From a prompt she gave me all broken up for different sentences. Happy Day, B!!!
1. a long lazy day
Saturdays were days when Peter’s gun holster stayed in the closet, when Neal made brunch in his tightie whities, and when El skimmed the paper while the second pot of coffee brewed.
2. with a lot of fucking happening
Some Saturdays they never left the bed, and they tied Neal up, and Peter and El tag teamed his delicate ass, and coffee never got made at all.
3. Intense orgasms
On these Saturdays, if they worked at it, Neal could come five times in about two hours, and Peter would have long since stopped fucking him with his cock and started fucking him with dildos and fingers and last night’s beer bottles, and El was always afraid the neighbors would hear Neal screaming from the pleasure Peter fucked out of him.
4. & then making iced tea
On these and other Saturdays, when everyone was worn out by 11am, Peter made the best iced tea that he said he’d learned from a great aunt upstate, and El would wipe the sweat from Neal’s brow, kissing his neck – his salty neck – before swallowing the sweet, sweet tea on a sigh.
5. & then doing it in the shower
And then Peter and El would shower while Neal slept, and things would get out of hand, and he’d have her up against the wet wall, inside her, renewed, and she would always come before Peter would, crying as the lavender rain fell over her shoulders.
5. & Peter going to walk the dog
Then Peter would walk Satch, and the sun would kiss his skin as the wind whipped past, and he’d linger on every corner to let the dog sniff, himself remembering the tight sheaf of Neal’s ass and his wife’s soft thighs against his hips.
6. while Neal eats El out
And Neal would always be hungriest before lunch, when it would be just them in the house and all was quiet and he’d urge open her legs with a smile, and then all that could be heard would be lips against cunt and the infernal gasps he wrenched from her throat.
7. & stuff like that
Saturdays were days when Peter’s gun holster stayed in the closet, when Neal made brunch in his tightie whities, and when El smelled like sex for the rest of the day and night and the three of them lived life as if by the tides: coming on strong, and then winding down, limbs and breath tangled, only to reach for one another again, urgent as the sea.
For hoosierbitch's BIRTHDAY!!!
1. a long lazy day
Saturdays were days when Peter’s gun holster stayed in the closet, when Neal made brunch in his tightie whities, and when El skimmed the paper while the second pot of coffee brewed.
2. with a lot of fucking happening
Some Saturdays they never left the bed, and they tied Neal up, and Peter and El tag teamed his delicate ass, and coffee never got made at all.
3. Intense orgasms
On these Saturdays, if they worked at it, Neal could come five times in about two hours, and Peter would have long since stopped fucking him with his cock and started fucking him with dildos and fingers and last night’s beer bottles, and El was always afraid the neighbors would hear Neal screaming from the pleasure Peter fucked out of him.
4. & then making iced tea
On these and other Saturdays, when everyone was worn out by 11am, Peter made the best iced tea that he said he’d learned from a great aunt upstate, and El would wipe the sweat from Neal’s brow, kissing his neck – his salty neck – before swallowing the sweet, sweet tea on a sigh.
5. & then doing it in the shower
And then Peter and El would shower while Neal slept, and things would get out of hand, and he’d have her up against the wet wall, inside her, renewed, and she would always come before Peter would, crying as the lavender rain fell over her shoulders.
5. & Peter going to walk the dog
Then Peter would walk Satch, and the sun would kiss his skin as the wind whipped past, and he’d linger on every corner to let the dog sniff, himself remembering the tight sheaf of Neal’s ass and his wife’s soft thighs against his hips.
6. while Neal eats El out
And Neal would always be hungriest before lunch, when it would be just them in the house and all was quiet and he’d urge open her legs with a smile, and then all that could be heard would be lips against cunt and the infernal gasps he wrenched from her throat.
7. & stuff like that
Saturdays were days when Peter’s gun holster stayed in the closet, when Neal made brunch in his tightie whities, and when El smelled like sex for the rest of the day and night and the three of them lived life as if by the tides: coming on strong, and then winding down, limbs and breath tangled, only to reach for one another again, urgent as the sea.