She was beside me in the bed, still awake, lying face down.

I rolled onto my side to face her, and put my hand on her back. No reaction. I slid my hand down to her ass. No reaction.

Pulling the fabric of her nightgown gently, I gathered up the hem so my hand could slide over her bare bottom. No reaction.

I caressed her buttocks several times, and then slid my hand down her curves, my fingers guided by the crack of her ass. No reaction.

Between her slightly parted legs, my tip of my middle finger could just reach the bottom end of her pussy. I rubbed it lightly, to and fro, up and down.

Reaction. She gave a slight shudder and shifted her weight. When she settled again, her legs were a bit farther apart, and my searching finger parted her pussy lips right at the entrance of the love canal. She was already moist.

Another reaction. Another shudder of arousal, another shift, another slight parting of her legs. My finger rode up and down the swollen wet lips of her pussy, stroked her clitoris and dipped into her wetness.

I rolled on top of her, knees between her thighs, supporting my weight, my face buried into her nape. The scent of her was delicious. As I nudged her legs wider, I felt her strain to rock her hips, offering herself for coupling. Then I was in her, my groin against the soft rounds of her ass, my cock sliding smoothly in her pussy, my arms around her search for her breasts. I went into her again, and again, renewing our union over and over.

Her breath was raspy with desire.

Then our calm intimacy shattered. I sat back, and pulled her hips up so she was hands and knees, and we fucked hard, her movements mirroring mine, her arousal matching mine. I wanted to put my hands on her everywhere: breasts, ass, pussy, neck, face. I felt harder, bigger, hotter with every push into her, and with every withdrawal, she dove her pussy back on to me harder and faster.

Until the moment of shuddering, spewing, spasmodic release.

When I collapsed onto the bed, she lay against me, her head on my shoulder.