By Coy Pink

Back to basics

Sometimes I yearn to strip our sex down to the bare bones.  All I need is the basics:  his naked body on my naked body.  No toys, no porn, no extra play.  Just him.  Just me.

Foreplay is short.  I’m wet just from the mere proximity to him.  A few hurried kisses and then he’s on me.  He enters me effortlessly and knows exactly what to do.  Though we’ve done this a thousand times, this night is no less exciting.  We’re feeding off each other’s excitement.  I know he’s close to orgasm, he knows I’m close.  He stops for a moment to prolong our ecstasy.  I’m dying to come but also not wanting this moment to end.  I love feeling the weight of him on me.  Nothing feels more right to me than this simple act.  He is inside of me, I look up at him, and all is right with the world.  It’s cliche, I know, but he plays me like an instrument.  He knows how much, when, and where to thrust to drive me absolutely insane with desire and lust.

We continue this dance a while longer.  Hovering at the edge of release, lost in each other.  But then I can no longer stand the wait.  He tries to slow down, pulling back a bit so he can postpone the inevitable.  I won’t let him stop.  I push my hips up to meet him, begging with my body for him to stay close.  He comes and then seconds later I am coming, crushing myself towards him.  There is something magical about coming at the same time.  I am rocked once again with the reminder that I can come so hard from “plain old” missionary sex.  With nothing more than his body he manages to make the ordinary anything but.

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