Erotic interracial affair

Her husband’s e-mail arrived in mid-afternoon that Monday, full of the usual. Some help with an unfamiliar UNIX command and chatter about work, dinner and the odds that he’d get soaked by a passing shower on his way home. The last paragraph, though, was what really caught her attention. “I’ve been wondering how many licks it takes to get to the center of an orgasm-pop. ;)”

Her dark brown eyes sparkled. It was about time, really – she’d been bugging him to do something with her for at least two or three days, but a big development project at his job had been eating up all his time. He’d been focusing on work, going in early, coming home late, and forgetting to shave. And with his love of open-air cycling commutes, that long blonde hair of his was quickly tangling into proof that a white boy could wind up with dreads like a Rastafarian, if he wasn’t careful.

He made it home a little earlier than usual, and found her hard at work as well, revising a website for one of her clients on the Linux PC in her home office. She had a few questions waiting for him – his Internet experience went back half again as long as her six years, and he could usually tell what needed fixing on a web page without even seeing the source code.

Massaging her broad shoulders and twirling her locks between his fingers, he answered the questions easily. Two heads were better than one, and the pace picked up. Even so, it was 9 pm. before they finished making code changes, testing, eating dinner, running errands and fending off distractions and found time to relax.

Tossing their clothes in piles on the old pine planks of the bedroom floor, they sprawled onto the bed in the darkness, and found a comfortable position for cuddling – she with her knees drawn up, and he conforming to the line of her back and legs, one arm around her, cupping one of her small breasts in his hand. Even after their eyes adjusted, his fair skin looked almost colorless in the dim light, while her deep brown and red tones were nearly lost in the shadows. As always, the contrast intrigued her, as did the way the colors complemented each other.

“Caress me?” she asked, after giving his hands a few minutes to warm up under the covers, and he did. His fingertips brushed against her the smooth brown skin of her long dancer’s thighs, the gentle curves of her torso, and the dark, resilient protrusions of her nipples.

His roaming hands gently squeezed her rounded buttocks, then slid slowly up her spine and over her shoulder- blades, fingernails lightly scratching her. After several minutes, he rolled her onto her back, straddled her, and gave her a long hug. “Are you going to keep your promise?” she inquired.

He smiled and kissed her – first on the mouth, then the neck, then her shoulders, then each nipple, and a long string of licks and kisses down her taut stomach, until he reached the edge of her wavy, jet-black pubic hair. Reaching under her, he cupped her bottom in his hands, and pushed her further up the bed to make room for himself.

“Hey!” she protested, “You moved me off the warm spot!”

They both laughed, and she settled back and spread her legs. He lay between them, and kissed her vulva five or ten times through the hair. “Do what you did last time,” she said. “Kiss my thighs.”

Gladly, willingly, he did her bidding. A mixture of feathery kisses, moist kisses, and light strokes with the tip of his tongue gradually made its way back to her mound, and the tip of his tongue probed curiously between her labia.

“Too pointy,” she said, trying not to giggle. He spread the dark lips gently with his forefingers and lightly licked between them, the tip of his tongue gliding up and over her clitoris.

After ten slow licks he paused, and began kissing her thighs and caressing her once again. He resumed his licking shortly, sometimes extending his tongue down as far as her pale pink vaginal opening. His hands stroked her thighs and her torso, and he made a slight vacuum with his mouth, brushing his lower lip against her clitoris in a series of kisses.

As he continued his efforts, he felt the muscles around her clitoris beginning to tense with every touch of his tongue, and her heartbeat and breathing quickened. Carefully, he counted each lick. At the fortieth, he stopped and began licking her slowly with the flat center of his tongue, pressing gently against her clitoris and labia. A few licks later, she began to arch her back slightly, and her breath came haltingly.

Forty-eight… forty-nine… don’t move!” she gasped, shoving her vulva against his tongue and lips as she tensed and writhed slowly in the throes of a gentle, but prolonged, climax. He struggled to comply, delivering only pressure in return.

As her orgasm eased slightly, she asked for a little more movement, and he massaged her clitoris with his tongue, teasing the tip against the opening of her vagina. She floated in orgasmic bliss, moaning quietly, for several minutes. His tongue never left her clitoris, only moving ever so slightly against it.

Finally, she had her fill of his oral affection. “Enough,” she said, running her fingers through his hair.

He gave her swollen clitoris a farewell kiss, and moved up to embrace her. As her arms and legs wrapped around his pale body, he suspected she wanted her fill of something else. “Do you want more?” he teased with a grin.

She could feel the his erection rubbing gently against her vaginal opening. Kissing him deeply as he ran his fingers through her locks, she pulled him closer with her legs, sighed as she felt his hardness slide into her, and let her body provide the answer.