Commencement Exercises
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Warning, this is a short smutty chapter. If smut offends you please don't read this.
NB. IT IS NOT NECESSARY TO READ THIS TO UNDERSTAND THE REST OF THE FIC. Events in this chapter have no bearing on what happens next; it's just an insert. I haven't changed the rating because it's not particularly explicit and does not involve adverse themes etc. If you do read it, you have been warned.
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9
Kirsten rolled her eyes at her husband, grasping the tie again and pulling him back up to kiss her. He complied eagerly, his fingers continuing to tease her. She moaned into his mouth, sliding her own hands southward to struggle with his shirt.
'Careful,' he warned as she became impatient with the buttons, 'this is the only shirt I have with me.'
She giggled, 'Well if you would stop distracting me…'
'Oh, so it's like that is it?' Much to her disappointment Sandy did just that, letting her remove his shirt unimpeded.
'I didn't mean you had to,' she whined as the feeling he had been causing subsided.
'I can't win can I?' he pretended to complain, shrugging his shirt off and replacing his hands round her waist so he could manhandle her across the room. They hit the bed end and Sandy gently lowered his naked wife onto it. He stood between her legs, leaning over her but resisting her attempts to pull him down also, enjoying the sight. Her arms were pinned to the bed so she couldn't move away despite attempting it, embarrassed by his scrutiny.
'Sandy,' she protested, trying and failing to raise herself up enough to kiss him.
'You're beautiful,' he told her.
'Thank you, now stop being an ass.'
'Me?' he asked, dropping the lightest of kisses on her lips. 'Not me?'
'Yes you,' she insisted, not satisfied.
'No, surely not me,' he murmured running kisses across her face, down her neck and along her collarbones.
'Maybe…not so much now,' she amended as he picked up where he had left off earlier; returning his lips to her breasts. He released her arms meaning she could smooth her hands sensuously up and down his toned back, pressing him to move closer but he resisted, liking being able to watch the shivers run across her skin, making her rounded stomach tremble slightly. He kissed his way over the bump, glancing up at Kirsten as he did so. She'd propped herself up on her elbows and was smiling at him.
'I hope you've told him or her to close their eyes,' he said, pausing in his activity.
'Sandy! You know…we do this way too often…'
'We do not!'
'I meant…in front of the baby. He or she is probably scarred.'
'Aw come on honey, it's not even born and I think it deserves it. We won't exactly have much alone time after he or she arrives.'
'You have a point.'
'I do, now where I was I?' He scrutinised his wife's body for a moment before kissing her belly button which made her giggle and continuing downwards. Meanwhile his hands began to trail up her legs, soft, feather-light touches beginning at her knees where they were bent over the side of the bed and trailing torturously slowly up her golden thighs. It came as a surprise when he lifted them in one swift movement over his shoulders. He lingered there, breath tickling her, driving her crazy with anticipation. When it did come, the kiss was unexpected, the delving of his tongue eliciting a whimper that only served to spur him on. Already feverish from his fingers, Kirsten barely lasted two gasps before chastising her husband as he teased, tempting her right to the edge then backing off and leaving her hanging, suspended in space. It brought a smile to his face when she collapsed backwards, unable to hold herself up any longer, desperate for the release he refused to give her yet.
Sandy gently extricated himself from between her legs, unable to prevent his smile growing to a grin as he noticed Kirsten glaring at him. He was about to manoeuvre himself beside her when she sat up, albeit still a little shakily, and pressed him back. Puzzled he complied, standing as she shuffled slightly to sit on the edge of the bed, smiling wickedly. Distracting him all to well with fluttering eyelashes and pouting lips, he leant to kiss her to find himself trapped; one hand ridding him of his boxers, the other already inside making remonstration impossible and unnecessary. Teasing was pretty much superfluous by now but she did it anyway, turning him on even more. Her soft hands were making it hard to stay upright but when she dropped her head to him, soft lips and warm mouth harsher, more insistent, he suddenly couldn't see straight either. The hands buried in her golden hair began to tremble slightly and he could feel his body tighten in anticipation. He tried ease her away, swallowing thickly, but to no avail, Kirsten refused to yield until he was spent, breathing heavily and forced to lean against her. She looked up at him, features awash with a smug expression and he laughed.
'You're bad,' he told her.
She pouted. 'Really?'
'Uhu. So bad you're good.'
He bent to kiss her before letting himself topple sideways onto the bed.
'Coming?' he asked his wife who was still sat upright, offering his hand. Kirsten turned and crawled towards his prostrate form, straddling it and working her way upwards from his feet. She stopped, resting over his knees and leant forward, lips skimming him and beginning to return him to hardness.
'I love being pregnant,' she declared, 'means I get to be in control.'
'Like you're not anyway,' Sandy muttered, distracted by the fact that she was nestling over his hips.
'Watch it or I'll leave you like this.
'Kirsten!' he protested in an anguished whisper as she began toying with him until he was rapidly approaching the edge again. She leant forward, rubbing herself against him, Sandy turning the tables by stroking down her back, over her ass and up again, sliding round to brush over her breasts before he caught her face in his hands and kissed her hard. Succumbing to his touches, her arousal peaked once more making her relent in her teasing. She lifted herself slightly, letting him enter her, both sighing at the familiar feeling, the pressure, the friction as they moved together. Kirsten rocked, slowly at first, eyes open watching her husband watching her. As he sensed her relaxing, settling into a rhythm as they moved in concert, he began to challenge it; thrusting against her so his wife's hips bucked in response, bringing them closer together. Sandy felt things speed up, his body flooding with warmth, and shut his eyes, fighting with himself. It was difficult to control his breathing with Kirsten panting and gasping above him, the sounds sending tremors of pleasure and stimulation around his body, blood rushing not just to his head. She was close, very close. He moved a little roughly, rewarded by the sound of his name drawn out in a climactic moan, her back arching, body shuddering.
She felt herself tumbling forward but this time meeting Sandy rather than emptiness and soaring upwards, not the opposite direction, calling his name.
With intense relief he felt Kirsten's release, steeling himself to let her almost finish before allowing himself the pleasure, hoping to extend hers. He was lost for several seconds before regaining enough awareness to capture a little of the previous momentum and bringing them both down slowly. Kirsten fell forwards in reality, resting against his chest for several seconds before having to roll sideways to accommodate her slightly extended stomach. That was something she missed, lying skin against skin, pressed up against him afterwards. Lying beside him wasn't the same. His eyes caressed her lovingly as he watched her come down from her high; eyes shut, face flushed, tousled hair spread about her, heavy breathing hitching in her chest. Her eyes flickered open a few moments later, unfocused and smiling, hazy with satisfaction. They focused on the clock behind him on the dresser and suddenly the misty expression was replaced with one of anxiety.
Kirsten launched herself off the bed with a startled exclamation and demands for Sandy to do the same.
'We're going to be so, so late,' she complained.
'I'm late, I'm late for a very important date,' he quoted, laughing.
His wife was not amused. 'This is your fault Sanford Cohen.'
'If I remember rightly you were the one who undressed me.'
'Only because I wasn't already dressed. I can't believe you distracted me so long.'
'It was worth it wasn't it?'
'Well yes…I mean…hurry up!' was the response as she began dressing frantically.
Her husband copied her actions in a more relaxed manner.
'Calm down honey.'
'Calm down? Your mother is going to skin me alive if we walk into your brother's graduation ten minutes late.'
'That clock is fast,' Sandy told her. 'Ma always sets them that way so you think you're late and end up being early.'
'Trust your mother.'
'Indeed…so it means there's no rush,' he said, leaning in for a kiss.
'No Sandy, no! We can only just make it as it is.'
Her husband laughed, stealing one chaste kiss and relenting, hurriedly dressing. It wasn't only his wife who feared the sharp tongue of The Nana.
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Well there it is. The Smutage!
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