Getting undressed she looked at the full length mirror. He had told her she looked better than she ever had but she wasn’t sure of that. She had lost over ten pounds so far this year. She looked at her flat stomach and trim waist and was pleased. She took off her bra and grimaced. “Why can’t you lose ten pounds without five of it being from your boobs?” she thought. Six months ago her bras were all 36C’s or 34D’s-- depending on brand and fit. If someone wanted to know her size she probably would’ve said 34B because she was the type of person who would think telling someone she had D cup boobies was bragging. She was modest that way. But looking at herself in the mirror she wished she could have 36D’s without gaining any pounds. Or maybe 38D's-- she knew he loved big, full titties. But more than that, she liked the way she looked in sweaters and tee’s when she had more up top. Oh well. The size 36 bras never left the drawer anymore. She wondered if she should buy new ones that fit better, but her frugal nature and the fear that she would soon regain the lost weight kept her from splurging.
Gazing at the mirror she realized that she really liked the way her hair looked now. The little bit of gray was all gone. It had been years since she last colored her hair but she was so glad she had finally done it again. He kept telling her she should. She had resisted but finally went ahead. It had been the right idea. She brushed it and felt good that it was still thick and full. She turned to look at her profile. Still had that bubble ass—way back in high school the black guys told her she had an ass like a sister. She liked the idea better now than she did then. All in all she thought she was doing OK for her age (although she'd never say that to anyone.) Certainly he wasn’t complaining, and she still got a few looks from the men at work.
But she was so damn tired. Always so damn tired. It took until Sunday afternoon to feel rested and then it was time to go back to work. She usually got a good fucking on Saturday night, slept late on Sunday, and went back to work Monday morning pleased with things. But it was a long time between Saturdays. A few years ago it was no big deal to her, what with little kids and all. But now for some reason she needed it more than when she was in her early 30’s. She was really bad at asking for sex-- not even good at hinting at it. She knew that he was aware of how tired she was and waiting until Saturday was probably his way of being nice to her. But, when they were young they went at it twice a day damn near every day. She missed that—when she wasn’t too tired to even think about it.
She put on a clean pair of white cotton panties and a big oversize t-shirt. She didn’t like to sleep in the nude. For some reason she slept better with panties on. Security? Protection? She had no idea why—it was just the way she was. There was no point putting anything sexier on—it was a week night after all. She brushed her teeth, rinsed with Scope, and went into the bedroom. She flipped through the channels on the satellite and finally left it on Discovery Health. She knew she’d be asleep in minutes and the TV was more a night light for him when he came to bed in a couple hours than sleep time entertainment for her. The clock was set for 5:30. She pulled up the plunger on top. Sleep came in seconds.
She woke as his left hand slid over her tummy and inside her panties. She was on her right side facing the nightstand. She felt him spooned up against her. She wondered what time it was, blinked her eyes to see the clock: 4:28. An hour before the alarm, which stunk, but then again she had gotten a full eight hours. She pushed her round ass back into him just a bit, letting him know she was awake and interested. He pulled his hand from her panties, quickly pulled the big t-shirt off of her and threw it across the room like it had offended him. She knew from the way he undressed her that he was going to take her. She wasn’t against the idea—in fact she was warming to it quickly.
He cupped her left breast with his left hand as his right arm went under her neck. He played with her tits for a while. Pinching her nipples. Flicking them with his fingers. Squeezing the entire breast firmly. One, then the other. She slid a hand between her legs as he fondled her. He flexed his right arm so that his hand was now in her hair. Stroking it. Combing through it with his fingers. His breath was just behind her left ear. She could hear the low, deep growl that she’d heard so many times before. It never got old since it signaled his desire for her. She kept her right hand in her panties and reached behind her for his cock with her left. She got it on the first try and grasped at its firm length. He took his left hand away from her breast, grabbed her arm and put it back in front of her.
He rolled onto his back and brought her along so that she was on her back on top of him. He maneuvered her so that her ass was down between his open legs, his hard cock against her spine from the small of her back and pointing towards her head. She got her hands on the bed so she was up off him a little and he took her hair in both hands and smoothed it back. Time after time he ran his hands through her hair drawing it back. Then he pulled it tightly into a ponytail and tied it. She could tell it was tied, but didn’t know what he had used. He didn’t have any clothes on so it wasn’t something from his pocket. He must have gone to bed planning to do this she thought… maybe he put a rubber band from the junk drawer down in the kitchen on his wrist before he came up to bed-- knowing he was going to do this to her. But then her thoughts escaped elsewhere as he put both of his hands back on her tits. As if she didn’t think they'd shrunk enough, here she was flat on her back on top of his chest. God he must think they’ve disappeared. But it felt so good the way he grabbed at them and handled them so roughly.
He pushed her back down between his legs and sat her up on the bed. He was sitting right behind her with his legs spread apart around her, his feet on the bed and knees flexed. He pulled her head back by her brand new ponytail while pressing between her shoulder blades so that she was soon looking straight at the ceiling. Her hair was long enough that he could get a wrap of it around his left hand. With his free right hand he slapped her tits from below, one after the other. He just grazed her each time so his hand caught mostly nipple. Then he took that free hand and brought it to her neck. Her head was back, her eyes closed as he took her neck firmly in his hand. His breath was at her right ear. Neither one of them said a word. She didn’t need her hands for balance and she knew she wasn’t supposed to try to grab for his cock so she slid a hand in her plain white cotton panties and fingered her wet snatch. She was closely trimmed but not shaved bald. Her lips felt so full and warm as she played with her slippery self. He took his hand off her neck, placed his palm against her chin, and fed her three fingers one at a time.
They went at it this way for a while. Her fingers working her pussy-- his fingers probing her mouth. She sucked at them every time he teased her lips and tongue with them. She could feel that hard dick against her back when he whispered into her right ear, “What do you want, baby?”
“Fuck me,” she said in a voice that was more air than sound.
He let go of her ponytail and reached around her to get at her panties. She pulled her hand back out of the way. He got the white cotton front in both fists and pulled in opposite directions. The fabric tore from the waistband to the crotch. He got his hands under her ass and gathered up the torn panties and kept ripping them until the tear went from front to back stopped only by the elastic waistband. Then he moved out from behind her, pushed her back onto the pillows, and got between her legs, the shredded panties offering no barrier to her soaked cunt. He ran the head of his cock south to north in her slit. She gushed. He drove it all the way in and fucked her harder than he had in months.