Since so many of you requested a follow-on from Memories of Summer, here it is.

I was mesmerised for a moment as I watched her disappear out through the door, and then the discomfort set in.  My cock was as hard as I could remember, and as I stood and turned to the bar to drain the last of my beer, I also took the chance to adjust myself.  Instantly, I felt the damp stain on my shorts where pre-cum had leaked through both layers.  I wasn’t sure I’d ever felt that excited.

As I moved through the crowd in the pub, I pulled my shirt out of my shorts and had to hope that it would cover the evidence of my arousal as I walked the half-mile back to the hotel.  As I exited the pub, there was no sign of her, so I hurried along as fast as I could without running.

A few minutes later, I arrived in the air-conditioned foyer of the hotel and rushed to the elevators, pressing the button repeatedly as if my urgency would bring it quicker.  As I stepped into the empty cubicle, I shifted the still-uncomfortable erection in my shorts.

Finally, I arrived at the door, set the keycard against it, and pushed the door open.

There she was in all her beauty, standing by the window, the afternoon sun turning her summer dress sheer as it bathed the room.  I could see her seductive shape through the material, the curve of her hip, her legs clearly defined all the way up.

I was drawn across the room as if by a magnet, and as I reached around her to draw her to me, my hard cock pressed against her bum, which she immediately wriggled as her hands touched mine.  The groan of desire I let out caused her to giggle and press back against me.

As one hand cupped her breast, the other slipped down to lift the hem so that I could continue where I had left off in the pub.  Her panties were soaked, but that didn’t stop me rubbing her steadily.  It was her moan that did it!

I couldn’t hold back any longer.  I lifted the dress around her waist, pulled down her knickers, and guided her onto the bed.  She arched her back beautifully in the sunlight, offering herself to me.  I freed myself and entered her with one deep thrust.

She felt perfect: warm, slick and tight.  I leaned over her and moved with purpose, the wet sounds of our union filling the sunlit room.  She met my rhythm, pushing against me with every exquisite stroke, moaning softly as I drove into her.

But the afternoon’s events had left me desperate.

“Fuck . . . I’m not going to last,” I groaned after hardly a minute.

In response, she squeezed me and rolled her hips whispering, “Come inside me.”

That was all it took. With a final thrust, I came—deep, hard, pulse after pulse of release filling her.

After a moment, I pulled out and looked down to see my cock covered in both our juices and her pussy already leaking the evidence of our lovemaking.  Without hesitation, I dropped to my knees in front of her, leaned forward, and ran my tongue from the bottom to top of her vulva, just the way she loves.

I could taste both of us, smell her intoxicating fragrance, feel her quiver, and hear her moans as I feasted on her beautiful pussy.  I made love to her with slow, relentless strokes of my flat tongue, until her hand rested on the top of my head, pressing slightly.  This is one of the unspoken cues in our life and tells me she’s ready for the next stage.

My tongue started to flick against her clit as I slid a thumb inside her.  I heard her breathing grow sharp and ragged, and as I concentrated purely on her pleasure, her whole body tensed and she came hard with an almost sobbing cry.

My tongue circled her clit gently, still savouring the taste of us both as she came down from her orgasm, sitting up only when she lightly pushed my face away.

I kissed my way up her body, pausing to slip her dress strap off a shoulder so I could suck one of her nipples, before our tongues sought each other out.

God, I love my wife, I thought as I collapsed beside her.