flirting to fucking

I had fun with Rob yesterday. I got to hang out on his leather couch and (pretend to) read while he puttered around the house. I miss the days I used to spend just lounging at his house, something I used to do before Christie decided to live with me full-time.

We used to spend whole afternoons cooking and drinking wine together. We'd have a pizza from scratch day or homemade chicken soup day or just plain naked chef day. Once he moved his bed into the livingroom and we watched football in bed, interspersed with sex, the entire afternoon.

So yesterday I watched him doing his housework and stuff from across the room instead of the usual face-to-face thing. It felt good, kind of like I was living there, and I wondered if this is what it would actually be like. At one point he caught me watching him do dishes. His blue eyes met mine and sparkled. Mmmmm. I wanted to devour him.

Eventually he joined me on the couch and opened a bottle of merlot. Alcohol has been good for us, especially me. It leads to uninhibited conversation, something that's not completely natural and comfortable for me. (surprised?) He gives me a drink to see what's lurking inside... or when he knows I have something on my mind that I'm reluctant to bring up.

Our conversation wandered from our kids and their antics to how we might like to tour the US in a mobile home when we're retired. Nope, not a very sexy conversation, but the fact that we had fun talking and drinking together heightened my anticipation of bedtime.

By the time we crawled into bed together Rob was feeling pretty mellow. I was going to let him drift off to sleep, but the position he chose, curled up behind me like a spoon, was a dangerous one. One wiggle from my butt created the spark that lit the evening fire.

I gave him full rein to enter me and sprint straight to the finish line. Time was of the essence as we both had to get up early. And to deny the desire would have been downright stupid. So he gave me his best from behind, sort of caveman style, completely driven by instinct. The rhythm of it all was very exciting, feeling his passion rise to a crescendo and slow, then rise again, until finally he fell and spilled into me, having generated just enough sweat to leave him smelling like a man.

Ahhh, sweet dreams.