No More Time

He'd dreamt of this many times over, never brave enough to ask, to give it voice. Why he had now he wasn't sure but it had felt right. Elsie was far more liberal than he was. Not scandalously so, but more open to considering new ideas, new ways of seeing, and now, it seemed, actions as yet untried.

But he didn't think he could stand anymore, her standing so tantalisingly close, so bare, so gloriously bare. But it was more than that, she'd wanted to give him this and the effect of that was more magnificent than he could ever have imagined. To have the gift of a woman who wanted him, why had he denied himself of this? And of her fully embracing her power? Because he had, over and over again. It was him who was too tightly wound, who flinched at impropriety, who would lash out and hurt her based on a view of the world that was fading. He'd seen sin in his youth and this wasn't it. This was Charles and Elsie, man and wife, friends, lovers, and all else in between. Nothing could be wrong between them when the feeling was so wondrous.

Her breasts stood out against the backdrop of the room, her nipples pert and ready for his lips to surround and lick firmly against them. The sweet flesh of her belly calling out to be caressed, the swell of her hips to be grabbed and pulled towards him. But he couldn't defy her. He'd asked for this, to be shown what he'd never seen, to be tortured until he knew he'd be forced to surrender. She'd won even before she'd begun but he already hadn't cared and, if pushed, he'd admit it, admit that she'd been right all along. And when she'd allowed he would simply have to take her, and take her hard.

His mind was ablaze as she continued to stand just inches from him, frozen somehow despite the fire dancing in her eyes. He struggled for control, for air, until at last he heard his own growl of desire erupt from him. It brought a wry smile to her lips and she crossed the final distance between them and knelt, her hands smoothing over his thighs towards the penultimate barrier between them. She stroked a finger against him, his hips jerking uncontrollably as she felt his thickness straining to be released. He thought for one moment she might...with her tongue...but no, it was a ruse and he grunted his frustration. She was in control still, her voice calm but clear when she again gave the order, this time for him to remove his underwear. She rose to watch him, a gleam in her eye.

And then it was her turn. She pulled at the tie that held her knickers tight before reaching for his hands, pulling them out from under his legs where he'd half buried them to stop from giving in to his longing to touch, and rub, and feel. She lifted them gently and placed them on her hips, and not breaking the contact she turned, her backside with its enticing, silky covering almost touching him. She directed his thumbs with her own under the waistband of her knickers and forced him to push them down, leaving him with the most glorious of views. He loved every part of his wife, he could list a thousands aspects of her character and soul that far outranked anything anyone else had to offer, but in this moment he could think of no other part of her other than these pure white cheeks that were his to possess and his alone. But he daren't move, not even now.

As she bent forward to pull them free from her feet, he thought he'd die. He wanted to kiss and suck at her sweet flesh, to kneed his hands deep into her, to bring her to the edge only to turn and bring her to his mouth and lap at her until she'd begged for release. But as she righted herself, her hair falling down her back to brush against his knuckles, a shiver of fear through him. She wasn't done with him yet, not by a long chalk.

Her next move was effortless, his hands on her hips allowed to guide her as she simply stepped back and sat down in his lap, a slight shift as she slid down onto him with grace and determination. The sound from them both a perfect symphony, their joining merely the conductor controlling the speed and pitch of their deep seated moans as the thrust of his hips met her downward motion again, and again, and again. He frowned, half delirious with the effort as he filled her, the tight wetness he found spurring him to push harder and deeper each time until he thought he couldn't hold on any longer, until he thought he'd explode in one primal scream of completion. But he wasn't given the chance. With a shake of her head, Elsie pulled herself up and away from him as suddenly as she'd descended and the whine on his lips was the least of what he wanted to express.

"No," she muttered as she turned to face him, her face flushed with bold arousal. "My turn to see you."

She moved past him to climb up on the bed and laid back, a siren calling out for him to touch and caress and to pleasure. Scooting closer, he delighted in how she grasped at his hand and brought it to her chest, her role as director not yet complete.

"Here," she commanded softly, to tease her already hardened nipples.

It was all he could do to acquiesce to her request, worship at her bosom, his hand exchanged for his lips as he kissed and nipped at them, moulding her breast in his palm as she writhed at his touch. But it wasn't enough and grasped his hand and directed it downwards, pressing his fingers firmly into her moist folds, before she flung her arms above her head and a long, deep groan of gratification escaped her lips.

He teased at the softness at her entrance, slipping in a single finger, his thumb at her nub drawing her closer to her release. He thought he'd come undone as a second finger had her moans alter to heavy panting intermingled with uttered words of encouragement as he found the spots that were driving her ecstacy ever closer to the edge before a final sweep pushed her over, a scream of agony as she came against his hand, a long wave of pleasure, her head twisted to one, her body stiff as it consumed her.

He moved his body against her, his own desire so close that he forced himself to conjure something mundane to mind to stop from releasing over the creamy white of her stomach. He tried to kiss her, to cover her mouth with his, but she resisted.

"No time," she hissed, "Do you not want me?"

"Oh God, yes. Yes." he replied in begging tones, "Please".

"I'm yours," she permitted as her legs widened.

He didn't know how he moved so quickly, his desperate want defying his age as in one fluid motion he was at her entrance, hoovering as his eyes locked on hers, his own hazy lust staring back at him. He wanted to draw it out, to make it last, but she was right, there was no more time. He thrust into her, the feeling of being enveloped glorious, pausing only to savour it just for a moment before pulling out and thrusting again, harder as he felt her orgasm beginning to build. He knew the angle to take, the place to hit and he did, relentlessly pounding into her deeper and deeper until he could go no further. Over and over, for longer than he thought he'd manage, the cries of his name on her reddened lips keeping him going until he couldn't any more. He roared above her, the entirety of him tensing and releasing in one magnificent, overwhelming, juddering final motion. He was suspended in time as he filled her, her own majestic orgasim a beat behind, her muscles pulsing around him as her body shattered completely beneath him.

They continued to move together, not wanting it to end, but at last they collapsed into one another, entirely spent, their want for the other sated.

"Charlie," she breathed heavily.

"My Elsie," he replied, kissing her at last, a gentle brush against her lips before he rolled off her and brought her into his arms, her head snuggled into his chest.

Eyes closed, they lay still save for the racing of their hearts, their lungs drawing in deep breaths as their bodies slowly returned to normal. He sighed happily as he felt her relax against him. His wife, his wonderful, astonishing, indulgent wife.

"I'm sorry," he murmured into her hair.

She tilted her head back against his shoulder. "Whatever for?" she asked, her eyes open in surprise.

"For not asking you to be mine sooner," he confessed with sadness.

Elsie tutted dismissively, "Oh, my dear man," she said gently, her hand drifting up into the soft curls on his chest. "If you had, we wouldn't be here now."

"And if I'd never got around to it..." he started before she silenced him with her finger on his lips.

"Then maybe you'd be angry and cross at me for refusing to wait any longer and asking you," she teased and he rewarded her with the smallest of chuckles at the very idea. "Besides," she continued more seriously, "I love you in the here and now, not in some imagined other world."

He shifted awkwardly, an action that denied how happy he felt on hearing her words, how they swelled emotion inside of him that he hadn't known was possible until he'd allowed her to show him. Her words echoed in his ears until a thought occurred to him.

"Do you love me enough?" he asked, a smile on his lips, "Enough to do all that again?"

"What a question!" she laughed in reply, propping herself up on her elbow to view him properly, an eyebrow raised provocatively as she continued. "And certainly I'll give it some consideration."

She squealed as he suddenly reached up and drew her towards him, his hand behind her head as he captured her lips with his. It was as sweet as ever they'd shared, the darker knowledge of what else was possible set aside for a future time.