'Almost there,' he thought. He could feel it building.
Andrew went into his signature move, his closer. He knew it was time after he saw her signs. He felt the nails, waited for her to pull her knees up and jam her heels into his butt. Of course he already had her near the edge, and when he’d told her he was close, he knew it would push her closer. Sure enough, just as he started his closing move which consisted of sawing his cock into her rapidly until his belly slapped wetly against hers, her hand went straight to her clit.
He had his head down, concentrating on giving her his usual great performance, just the way she always liked it. He was closing in on his climax, assured now that she would cum when he did. He’d brought her all the way up, like he always did.
He grunted at her, letting her know he was almost there, too. Then he was momentarily distracted by her pulling his head down. 'What? What does she want now? Tit sucking? Again? We did that already, at the beginning! What, are we starting over? Not now, not when I’m this close!'
His body danced back from the edge, but he was a sensitive man and a skilled lover, so he maintained his focus through her distraction, shook off her hand and climbed the rest of his journey to his pinnacle.
He exploded inside her, groaning and momentarily unable to focus on anything but his straining cock, feeling the release rush through him through several jerking, spastic thrusts. His body went rigid and stiff and then with a huge release of breath he dropped his weight down on top of her, exhausted and spent.
He felt her fingers stroking his back, telling him how good he was, what a stud he was. 'And still am,' he thought, 'she must have cum while I was.' He took another deep inhale and rolled off to the side, slipping an arm under her.
“It was great for me too, Lou,” he smiled, tugging her body in close to him. “I love you, baby.” He pulled her head into his shoulder and growled deep in his throat and his breathing eased, smoothed and deepened. 'Fuck,' he told himself as thoughts slipped away to become dreams, 'I’ve still got it. I rock her world.'
In the morning, he slipped out of bed before her, as he always did. He grunted and groaned a little as he climbed out of bed with his boxers crumpled and bunched up in his crotch. He scratched himself and made his way to the bathroom.
After his morning constitutional, he stumbled to the kitchen and put on a pot of coffee, then sat at the table and scratched his crotch some more. 'Should have wiped myself off before going to sleep,' he thought. He flipped on the kitchen television and caught the recap of the games from yesterday. He had watched two of them, spending most of the afternoon in front of the set, pausing it for beer runs and making a couple of sandwiches between games.
As he poured his coffee he snarled a little to himself, at Louise and her cleaning. She'd come through the den with the vacuum while the game was on again! 'Jesus it was like she didn't care sometimes, or wasn't paying attention, running that damn thing while he was trying to watch.' It was a wonder he hadn't been too pissed off to fuck her last night night. He looked down at his crotch. 'But you took care of business, eh, you old dog?' he told his tool, grinning. 'A little housecleaning never stops you!'
She'd made it up to him, though, taking away his empties, although he could have done without the huffing and puffing. Did she think he didn't notice her, trying to make it up to him? Walking in front of him, blocking his view, clanking the bottles with an awful din that was almost as bad as the vacuum. But, good guy that he was, he didn't make a stink about it, even when she made a show of wiping the rings off the table.
He'd taken it all in stride, accepting her unspoken apology, and returning the favor when he went in to make his sandwiches between games. Of course she'd played dumb when she’d seen the stuff out on the counter and called him from the kitchen.
"I left it out for you," he'd explained, like she didn't already know. "I didn't know if you were hungry yet, but if you were, I saved you the trouble." Of course she'd made another show of banging things around to let him know how grateful she was.
She really did try his patience sometimes, with her shows of acknowledgment and affection. 'Couldn't she just say “thanks,” and “I love you,” and be done with it?' But he didn't hold a grudge, it wasn't his way. And to make sure she knew he was thinking of her, he took an empty coffee mug from the cabinet and left it on the counter for when she woke.
There was a time he used to bring her a coffee in the morning, maybe slide into bed with her and maybe even give her a quickie before his shower. But these days she'd just roll away from him; he figured she'd rather sleep, so he left the mug on the counter for her and went to the bathroom for a shower.
He didn't bother closing the door as he stepped to the toilet and unleashed the big dog, hanging it out of his boxers as he sipped his coffee. As his bladder emptied, additional pressure moved to escape as well, and as the gas announced its exit he heard his name from the doorway. The rest of Louise's sentence was lost under the sound of his flatulence. He turned to her, smiling over his coffee mug and, still pissing, gave her a grin. He knew she was checking out the magic wand that had brought her so much pleasure last night. He winked at her.
"Morning, sweets," he called. "Last night was killer, eh?" He lifted an eyebrow, but her expression stayed flat. He smiled to himself as she turned away. 'Still in dreamland, remembering,' he thought.
After his shower, he returned to the bedroom, humming a song that had stuck in his head. Louise regarded him from where she was finishing making the bed. He whipped his towel off and gave her a good look as he turned to the dresser. He dried himself as he pulled underwear and socks from the drawers and tossed them to the bed. When he turned back, she was picking up the clothes from last night and carrying them to the hamper. He tossed the damp towel in the general direction and began to dress. Once he had pulled his underwear on, he looked up from where he sat on the edge of the bed.
Louise was displaying that inscrutable expression she sometimes gave him. He looked back at her, thought about it, and smiled as he stood.