Loveseat

Just a hint of role play and spontaneity …

It is early Friday evening. Just after work. Home office.  All my calls are finished, but I’m still hanging out in here. I’ve got some music on with a glass of wine, and I’ve just finished assembling the small couch I ordered (time to spritz up the old home office a bit).

Wayfair

Craft a mid-century-inspired seating group in the living room with this chic loveseat, showcasing a wood frame and glossy tufted upholstery. Top it with a pair of patterned pillows for a pop of eye-catching appeal, or let it shine solo for a minimalist aesthetic.

 

I yell across the house for Stacy to come see my manly handiwork.

She perches on the loveseat sideways. Arm draped over the back. One leg crossed under the other. I’m sitting at the desk, spun around in the chair to face her.

“What do you think?”

“I really need this job”, she says with a pout.

I don’t catch it at first.

…she goes on, leaning forward, voice a little husky now: “You’ll be very satisfied with my performance if you hire me.”

Finally the light bulb clicks. I am a dullard.

“You certainly seem to meet all the requirements for the position.”

I get up and move across the room to her.

She stands to meet me, removing her hair clip.  Loose blonde curls fall to chin length.

There is a moment of silence. She threads a finger through a curl with a pout.

Picture Perfect.

I put a hand on her hip. We kiss. Lightly at first. Our tongues brushing. I can feel myself stir.

A few moments later, our pants are on the floor and she is kneeling on the loveseat grinning back at me over her shoulder.

She has beautiful full hips.  Round smooth cheeks with a sexy sheen of peach fuzz that comes together at the small of her back.

I step forward, run my hands across her skin to grab those hips.  The smell of her hits me as I grab hold. A light musk. Distinctive.  This makes me very hard, very fast.

I reach down and brush her lips with my fingers.  Gently stroking from front to back. She gives a small moan.

Not wet yet, but there is a damp spot. Aha…

My fingers press. Delve a little deeper. Silky. Warm.

I draw the wetness out with my fingertips. Smearing it over her swelling lips. Parting them, I position myself to enter.

Sliding in every so slightly.  Her hips pivot back, as I move in a little deeper.

We fit together well. Her warmth envelops me. I take a moment to savor it.

She is eager, but patient.  Only a small whimper escapes. I have her.

She is in my hands, I slide inside. Slowly. Deep as I can go.

Her thighs back up to mine as I pull her hips to me. Skin on skin.  We are one. I hold her here another moment. Relish the warmth. She squirms in my hands a little. Pressing back against me. Whimpers.

We begin to move together. I slide back and forth.  Measured strokes at first, but quickly speeding up.

The couch is light. It starts to slide on the hardwood floor.

She positions a shoulder on the back cushion for leverage.  With a thump it hits the wall.

She lets out a whimper. I press her deep and hard. Holding for a few heartbeats, I grip her hips tight. Fingers digging in.

I have teased her enough. Pouting whimpers become urgent moans. The smell of us hits my nostrils as the tempo begins again.

We speed up. I have to pay attention to my aim. Ensuring each stroke is on target. True and deep. This allows me to cool my own urgency a bit as hers heats up.

The little loveseat is really banging the wall now, plus I am sure the floor is scored as I absently remember the felt pads I forgot to stick on.

Faster and faster. Each stroke as hard as possible.

Suddenly the seat comes loose from the frame a little.  She is levering hard against the back cushion with her shoulder, and her knees have levered the seat out – mid stroke.

We don’t stop. We are in a strange rhythm with the loosening couch frame.

She’s almost there, and I am quickly catching up.  I thrust deep, pinning her against the sofa as she comes.

Her whole body contracts. The moans become a small gag as it washes over her. I am not there yet, but hold her fast.  She is pinned and coming hard underneath me.   Rigid, yet slightly writhing in my hands.

This pushes me over the edge.  My own orgasm floods me. Knees suddenly weak, I steady myself against the couch.

We are in tableau for a moment as we both recover.  Breathing heavy. Slick with sweat.

“I think you missed a screw, but it’ll do.” She says, chuckling….

 

 

 

 

 

 

2 Comments Add yours

  1. Vegas says:

    😂
    Love it!!
    Was just thinking about ya recently too, wondering how you were; and how you and Stacey were.

    Hope you’re well!!

    Like

  2. uehobbyist says:

    Thanks Vegas. We’re doing well. Been living together for almost a year now 🙂

    Like

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