Under the Stars and Stripes (Under Him)

Brittany is still here, lying in my arms, sleeping so soundly that it may be the first restful sleep she’s ever actually had in her life. It’s so hard to believe that I’m not still asleep or in some crazy Inception-inspired REM loop because if all of this is real, then everything that felt like a dream coming true last night was real too.

Then again, this is the dream I’ve been holding out for. I may not have always known it was Brittany who was supposed to be here in it with me. But situationally, it’s that thing I’ve always lacked and wondered about in passing but have never really given an honest effort of searching for.

I’m glad she’s here with me, though. There have been some mornings when I’ve woken up to women in my bed that I can’t remember bringing home because I’d drank too much by the time I’d invited them back here.

Most of the time, I passed out immediately after having cum in those cases, too exhausted to even bother opening my mouth to tell them to go home. And the feeling of having to wait until a stranger was awake to tell them you had to get going and, for that reason, so did she, is not a comfortable situation to be in.

They always would ask for my number or whether I was going to call them and never had there been a time when I’d even considered it. So, the fact that I’m elated when I realize that, no, last night was not just some wild, erotic fantasy, is actually quite a difference for me.

It’s not that I expected to feel that way when I woke up. But there was a part of me that had been unsure of how I’d feel after I finally had sex with Brittnay. I’ve never craved anyone quite the way I do her, and so there was no foreseeable outcome banked away in my brain for reference.

She squirms a bit to keep the light out of her face, and I can tell she’s having trouble doing so. I had this house built some time ago when Tony and I really found success with Picture Perfect.

I’d purposely wanted the western wall across from the one with the small window overhead to be entirely made of plate glass so that in the evenings I could watch the sun go down over the water.

It’s still my favorite thing about this place, and I can’t wait ‘til later when Brittany and I will have a little more self-control (I hope) and I can shower her how gorgeous it is.

As she shuffles a bit more, I assume she’s probably waking up and trying to fight it off, so I figure I might help speed along the process. I duck beneath the covers and make my way between her legs, which I wrap my hands around to hold them in place in case she gets taken off-guard and accidentally kicks.

I then look at her perfect pussy after having given it it’s very first pounding, and I can still smell the sex from last night.

I run my tongue up along her thigh and then over between it and the other, and without any soft beginning, I start moving my tongue in time-tested movements that I know are certain to bring her to the edge of climax.

“Ahh…” she lets out as she starts waking up some more.

From down here, I can’t quite tell just how awake she is, so I take my tongue and attack her clitoris with it, then stick my middle and index finger inside her pussy hole and feel its walls clamp around me.

There’s a tremble that comes from her knees, and again she exclaims.

Only this time she says, “Don’t stop.”

And I don’t. If I had a choice, I never would again. Our lives would just be us here in this bed pleasuring one another, only stopping to watch the sunrise over the beach, and then going again until the sun returned.

She continues to beg for more, although it becomes clear she’s not completely woken up yet, as her words are just a groggy and slurred.

“Keepgoing,” she moans out. “Ohhh…”

She twists and her legs lock me in place.

“Oh, daddy.”

Then I slow down my fingers and I pull my tongue back from its place on her flesh, and slowly I climb out from beneath the covers to take a look at her.

“Did you just call me ‘daddy’?” I ask her, as she flutters her eyes open and smiles at me.

Some people don’t get the appeal— and honestly I’m not claiming I understand it either— but the whole ‘daddy’s girl’ thing really turns me on.

“Have you been a bad girl?”

“I’ve been a real bad girl,” she says with a sweet little yawn. “I think I need to be punished.”