Giving Thanks

When made love to by a man, it should be like an overdose of tryptophan. I mean, it really is debilitating and quite embarrassing sometimes, the way he can put me down. He makes me come at will, and it isn’t just that I wanna sit on the couch and watch the Macy’s Day Parade kind of coma either, but the one where I can’t even hold myself up on all fours and collapse like an overcooked noodle in my own wet spots kind of coma. I guess that can be my special way of giving thanks. Well, if you consider drooling in fetal position and mumbling both thanks and apologies incoherently an adequate form of flattery after a fuck-lobotomy as much of a compliment as he does, but I digress.

Thanksgiving has always been his favorite holiday, but after our divorces, we both have found ourselves children-less as our modern-day Brady Bunch is scattered, and we find a whole new way of giving thanks. We don’t entertain at our home and travel instead to nearby family or friends to celebrate, and we pretty much spend the majority of the day drinking in an attempt to drown the sorrows of missing our babies, but we make do just fine. They are only some of the very few days out of the entire year that we are ever without children, so we take advantage the best we know how. We sneak some time between visits to enjoy time on the beach, bottles of wine, and some very hot and heavy nekkid time. Thankfully, he gives me plenty of opportunities to do make-up work for all the times he selflessly spoils me rotten.

This particular time, we had just rushed home from our beautiful beach chill session where we surprisingly had the beach to ourselves. We had set up our little pop-up sun shelter that fits a couple of sun chairs under it, and it has windows and everything. Leave it to him to find ways to swag past my defenses, and the next thing I knew, I was pulling my bathing suit to the side and watching his gifted tongue while he skillfully ate away at more than just my defenses. To see him in such vivid sunlight lick more and more of my reticence away with each additional swirl and dip of his gifted paintbrush of a tongue had me dizzy and faint as I stacked my orgasms and recklessly cried out in thanks. I hadn’t even noticed until my senses returned, that his fat cock was out and that he had also been stroking it since I facilitated his hands-free eating contest by not only pulling my suit to the side, but also my curtains taut so that my clit stood at full mast under his jousting tongue and the cool beach breeze. I felt it as my appreciation spilled from me and he lapped it up even more hungrily than before, and he would’ve continued, but once I saw his thick cock calling, I couldn’t help myself.

I squeezed my thighs around his head until it popped up from between them like a slick wet grape, and he looked at me all crazy. I told him “my turn” as I pushed him onto his back with my foot and wrestled MY cock from his grip. I’m not quite used to seeing him in the brilliant light of day, so I took my time admiring him. He was so hard, and probably for the same reason I was extra wet. We were out in the open, and boy was he happy to be free. I swear that it could have supported my weight as I wrapped my hands around it and pulled it off his abs and into my hungry mouth. It tasted beachy and delicious, but not as good as it does after it’s been inside of me, but beggars can’t be choosers. I did my best, but there was no way that I could take it all, especially as it grew even more at the back of my throat, and that just made me wetter and wetter as I felt my still exposed and swollen hoo-hoo chilling in the breeze. I couldn’t take it any longer and quickly climbed up into the saddle and lowered myself decisively in hopes of quieting the insatiable hunger pangs of my pussy. It hurt so fucking good impaling myself so forcefully on him. I felt it so deep up inside me that I thought my soul might burst. I was coming almost immediately, and I hadn’t even noticed that he freed my full breasts and was pinching my nipples and demanding that “I come all over his fucking cock”, and who was I to disobey? Our timing was impeccable because I could see another couple walking up the beach, and I put my boobies back and warned him as I fell out the saddle and we tucked everything else away, and I warned him that we weren’t done.

We packed up with the quickness, and there was no hiding his appreciation either as it stretched obnoxiously in his beach shorts. All we could do was laugh it off as the couple walked by, and we all echoed Happy Thanksgiving; he and I looked like the two that ate the canaries. We packed our collapsing sun shelter and ran to the car like two fat kids after cake. I didn’t want the moment to pass, so remember how I told you how much better his cock tastes when flavored with me? Well, as soon as we got in the car, I freed the beast only to swallow him whole. I couldn’t believe it when we made it home so quickly; it must had only been about six minutes, but in those six minutes I made sure that the moment hadn’t passed, because momma was so wet, and daddy was at full fucking mast. We parked in the garage and sprinted into the house, but we never quite made it into the bedroom. It dawned on us that we had the whole house to ourselves for the change, and who were we not to take advantage? He yanked me back by the hand, picked me up and put me on the kitchen island, untied my bathing suit bottoms as I threw my legs over his muscular shoulders, and watched as the pie-eating contest continued. “Best pie ever,” he groaned as his face and smile spread me. He enjoys giving thanks, and you can always tell that by how someone eats their food. He eats intimately and gets messy. I’m all over his face, fingers and cock when he’s finished and picks me up off the island and carries me over to the couch. I’ve lost track of the rounds, along with my orgasms, and the thanks had only begun.

Like the beach, we were happy and aroused to have the house to ourselves. His dick wasn’t joking either, and it is so flattering to me when it is as hard as it was. It was so hard that it hurt so good as it was his turn to fill me with authority. I could tell that he meant business too because of how hard his pelvis slammed into me, crushing my clit while his heavy balls spanked my ass with increasing speed. All I could do was stutter “fuck..fuck..fuck..me” as each additional blow warned of the next big one to strike. I always know or suspect when the big oh is about to go, and I desperately hope that he too is close. It’s his deep guttural growls that finally permit me to let go, as I scream “I'm cumming,” while begging him to follow. It’s an amazing feat to watch and feel as his cries get louder and our souls start to peel. I’d already come, and hence fortunate to be able to watch the show as his whole body appeared to grow. It looks almost painful, and I’m anxious for him to finish, and when he does, it is so fucking arousing to watch the release and relief, that amazingly, I come again. I’m so happy that he finally got to join me that I melted into the couch and watched him stand over me. His whole body is so pumped that I can see all the bulging veins in his muscular frame, from the ones in his shoulders, all the way down to the ones in his thick hanging cock. I can’t even believe it when I’m getting aroused again just looking at him and feeling thankful for all the giving. My eyes climb up him like a tree until our eyes meet, and I see a dimpled smile once again stretch across his mischievous face, his eyebrows bounce, and even more pleasantly surprising, I see his cock flex as it stirs back to life, and both my smiles grow with anticipation. Happy Thanksgiving, indeed!

Happy Hump Day!!