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With me, or any other woman, you'll never hear him speak a swear word. No matter how tired he is, he'll always stand to give his seat to her or an older person, open the door for her, or carry anything heavy, even if it's out of his way, and he's in a hurry.It's only if & when, that I've seen the other side of him. It's startling to see this quiet gentle man in seconds change so drastically into a rolling mountain of fury and rip into some obnoxious male, pounding him to a pulp. I've only seen it happen once, and I never want to see him that angry again in my life. It's frightening. It's traumatic to see that gentle giant that you think you know so well, become a demon from hell bent on destruction.That moment was for me, a peek into this other world of his. A world, I never have known, and could only make guesses about, a world so foreign and strange, as if it were on a completely other planet from ours, a world harsh and brutal, cold and without consideration for social niceties. A. I was exhausted when he finally came up the bed and started to kiss me, I could smell and taste my cum on his mouth and the odd thing was it seemed to turn me on again.“Want to learn how to suck my cock?”“Yes.”“Well get on this sheepskin rug with me and take hold of it and suck it just as you would an ice lolly and while you are doing that move your hand up and down it in a slow wanking motion.”I had to hope I would be able to do it right as I got on my knees close to his hips and slowly sucked his cock into my mouth. I couldn’t take it very far it was that big but I licked and sucked just like he was telling me and wanked my hand up and down his cock. I could feel his stomach muscles tighten.Maybe he was about to cum. I had never tasted cum but had read about it and how some women loved the taste. One told me she hadn’t liked it to start off with but when seeing how much it pleased her partner just kept on with it swallowing it all and now loved the taste. His moaning my name made.
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I feel the pressure of your chest, stomach, hips, pressed to me, a sigh escapes my mind through my lips and nose. The expressed breath moves the fabric of your shirt and I breathe back in slightly, losing myself in the smell of your skin. There is very little light but it’s not necessary to see when the need to touch and smell is so forceful. With your body against mine, I press my face to the cloth of your shirt. The buttons are small, unyielding disks meant to inject a small bit of reality. Is this what you want? What I want? Though the buttons are easily overcome, their boundary is obvious. Still, their warm, smooth surfaces are a welcome distraction to the crushing waterfall of your nearness. My face is lost in the hardness of your chest, breathing deeply, my fingers explore your lower back, tips meeting briefly as they trace your spine, roaming, memorizing. They move slowly still waiting for your muscles to tense, for your tiny step backward. At any moment, either of us could.

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