The Sleepover. Take two.

I spent my second night away. It was as fun as my first night (I talked about it in another post 'Good night, sleep tight'). On that first night I didn't know I would be staying when I went over there. This time we planned it that way.

Staying overnight makes things different. For my husband, it means knowing I won't be coming home so he didn't stay up waiting. Instead he went to bed at the usual time and tried to fall asleep. He couldn't though, and he said he tossed and turned until late. I felt bad. But he said it was okay because it was exciting thinking about everything. I asked him if he masturbated. He said he thought about it but decided to wait for me to come home in the morning. I told him that I wouldn't blame him if he had.

For my lover and me it was more relaxed than our usual times together. We knew there was no deadline and I didn't need to watch the clock or worrying about driving home late. It also meant we could drink and do any party favors we wanted without me having to drive. That takes some of the pressure away.

The night was unhurried and sensual. I got there about seven o'clock. We talked for a while on the sofa and had a drink. Then he asked me if I wanted to go into the bedroom and watch a movie. I thought he meant porn. No. He meant a real movie. So I picked through his movies and found 27 Dresses with Catherine Heigl, since I was one of the few that interested me. After giving him shit about having a chick flick in his DVD collection (he likes Catherine Heigl after all) we laid on the bed to watch it.

It was really nice. The movie set a good tone. We laid back and ate snacks and just watched it together. I began to appreciate his suggestion, because it let me relax in his bed without going straight to sex. It put me at ease. I definitely was planning to show him my appreciation.

When the movie was over we knew it was time to get busy. He went and turned off all the lights in his house, which felt strange. At that moment it became clear that I was here for the night. I settled into "my" new bed and waited for "my" man to come join me. It felt strange yet still comfortable.

He slipped in beside me in the near darkness. We fell into each other arms and kissed and held each other and warmed to one another.

The sex was great. Because we had been together before everything went smooth. He knew me and I knew him. I guess it was probably around ten o'clock when he got into the bed with me, and I know it was at least one a.m. when we were still making love.

Making love was probably a better term than fucking. Like I said things were more relaxed. We didn't do anything new, but everything we did felt different. It was more sensual and less sexual.

I mean the fucking was great! We probably fucked four, maybe five times. I spent a lot of time on my knees and he spent a lot of time on me. I had plenty of orgasms and some were the mind-numbers I love. He had three. Two that night and one the next morning.

We fell asleep between one and two I guess. I don't remember falling asleep, just waking up.

I woke up first. The other time we slept together he woke up first and woke me up with his mouth. I decided to return the favor. I slid under the covers and took his soft cock in my mouth. He moaned and woke up immediately, putting both his hands on my head. He grew harder and began bucking his hips slightly.

I thought he was just getting into it. But then he built up and was getting more urgent. I was just thinking that this could end up as a morning blowjob instead of a fuck when I got that salty taste in mouth. He held my head tightly in his hands and raised his hips and spurted in my mouth!

It was all I could do not to choke with him pressing me down on his shooting dick. I wasn't ready and I didn't have a good breath but he didn't care. He was all about holding my head still and emptying himself into my mouth. If I weren't on the verge of choking and suffocating I would've had my hand between my legs frigging myself. It could have been hot as hell. Instead I felt lucky to live through it.

But I survived and he came. After he recovered he did go down on me, and I did have a nice orgasm. I was tempted to squeeze his head between my thighs and try to suffocate him but I didn't (I'm too nice sometimes).

We lay in bed after that. All we did was talk although he did play with my boobs once and I thought it might lead to more but it didn't. So we got up, we dressed and I called my husband. I told him that I had a good night and would be home soon to tell him all about it. He sounded happy which made me feel better. Any time we try something new you never know how we will both react. I was pleased to hear his voice and know that he was okay with things.

So my second sleepover went well. Will there be more? Something tells me there probably will be.

This is fun. Really, really fun.