Last week from Tuesday through Saturday I was away on a trip for work. It was an annual awards event for a few divisions in my company. It was great fun but exhausting.
I hadn’t seen Tony in almost two weeks (not since the debacle with my son in the middle of the night). I was three time zones away from home and up late partying most nights. My Mom had been staying overnight at my place while I was away. On Saturday, my plane was delayed and I didn’t get home until 9:45pm. I missed putting my son to bed, and I was disappointed about that.
My Mom and I chatted for a few minutes and she asked me if I was having company – and I said yes, Tony was coming over shortly.
Then she told me I looked exhausted. No question, I was.
My son was fast asleep upstairs. Once he’s asleep, he’s done. He has slept through the smoke detector going off in his bedroom.
Tony arrived at 10:30. It was a great feeling to wrap my arms around him, under his jacket, and be enveloped by his arms and his warmth.
He had asked if he could bring anything but I missed his text as I had been brushing my teeth and changing my underwear. I was pleased he asked since I firmly believe you shouldn’t really arrive empty handed to someone’s house.
He brought wine gums and beer, just in case I didn’t have any. We sat at my kitchen island and decompressed. We joked about which flavors were our favorites. He drank water and I drank sparkling wine. We would chat and kiss and chat some more. Then repeat the whole process.
I like how he is with me that way. He is affectionate, but it’s a good balance between that and knowing he wants to talk to me too. I don’t know how else to explain it – but it’s a super nice feeling.
But at some point the touching and kissing takes over, and then the heat and intensity builds. He holds me tight, kisses my neck. He runs his hands through my hair and holds my face as he kisses me. Sigh.
I ask him upstairs.
There is unhurried undressing, and jokes about cool underwear (his). My pink lace panties start to come off with my jeans and he mutters under his breath that he had planned to keep them on for a bit longer. It’s these kinds of moments where he feels real.
I feel him hard against my leg. It stays longer than before, but doesn’t last. We have sex, it gets better each time, both in knowing each others bodies and also from his ability to keep things going. Afterwards, we stay wrapped up tight against each other. We murmur to each other how nice it feels.
But we can’t fall asleep that way and break apart to crash, exhausted.
I had warned him in advance that my son was home and asked how he wanted it handled if he woke up in the middle of the night. He knew what happened last time when I tried to get my son back into his bed. Tony said he was fine to have him with us in my bed, should that happen.
Thankfully there was no middle of the night wakeup, but at 6:45am, that uncanny ability I have to know when my child is there, woke me up. Sure enough he was there, in his shortie pyjamas, about to crawl onto Tony. I whispered and course corrected him so he came on my side of the bed. He crawled under the covers, we said our hellos and I missed you’s and kissed and cuddled.
I was in the middle. My son looked over my shoulder when he was awake enough to realize Tony was there. I explained that he had missed me too and come over.
My son seemed perfectly fine. Tony stirred and looked over at us. They said good morning to each other in bed. It felt weird and lovely at the same time. I was contented. It’s been forever since I’d enjoyed a moment like that.
My son asked if he could go downstairs and watch TV. I said “sure”. A few minutes later I heard one of his favorite shows.
I backed into Tony so we were in a close spoon on the bed. Our hands started roaming, he teased my neck and shoulders with kisses, and we just got hotter and hotter. Shortly afterwards he turned me onto my back and pulled himself on top of me.
For the first time, I got a real sense of what his cock could offer.
My internal monologue was going a mile a minute and I was shocked I could even orgasm. It went something like this:
- Wow, that actually feels really damn good.
- Crap, I’d better keep my covers over his ass in case we get caught.
- What would this look like from my bedroom door, anyway?
- I know the kid is glued to the TV, there is no way he is coming upstairs again.
- God damn this guy is hot.
- How crazy is it that this is the best sex we’ve ever had and my kid was in this bed not 10 minutes ago?
- Wow, he’s actually kinda decently sized.
- It is really hard to stay quiet whilst cumming.
- Shit, was that the television?
- Whenever I look at him, he is really looking at me. Intently. Cool.
The sex was the longest duration yet and better yet, felt great. He finished himself off manually – perhaps another insight into his issues – but I can imagine it would be hard for anyone, knowing at any moment a kid might catch you boning his Mom.
Shortly after, he got dressed and I got a bathrobe and slippers and we puttered downstairs. I made him some espresso, we ate soft boiled eggs and toast, and my son did magic tricks for him.
He was comfortable. Not running to get out the door or to avoid engaging my son.
I really, really, liked it.
And the best thing of all? When I asked my son whether he minded Tony being there when he woke up, he said “no Mummy, because I still got to cuddle with you in your bed”.