They cuddled together afterwards. Hearts slowing, breathing struggling back to normal. A wonderful loving it had been. Almost animal towards the end.

She’d pleasured him orally and then he she, bringing her over the edge time and again until she begged for his cock inside her. Then they coupled, she so wet that they both giggled at the sounds of their loving. Finally, sobbing for breath he’d gushed his love into her. Her final orgasm came rushing after his. The intensity made him think he must be flooding her, knew he wasn’t, it just felt that way as he came into her time after time. They lay then, still spooned. He slowly dwindled inside her and she felt his gentle contracting, her walls holding him, loving him gently.

Finally she got up and scrambled into her panties. He watched. White cotton, very brief and very sweet.

“Don’t you leak afterwards?” he wondered aloud.

“Of course.” she laughed, as if stating the obvious.

She came over to the bed and thrust herself provocatively towards him. “Of course I leak … feel.”

He reached out and touched the crotch of her panties slipping fingertips gently between her thighs. They came away wet. He rubbed thumb against fingers, silky, slippery.

He looked up at her. She smiled, guessing his unspoken question. “Because I like the feeling. Because it’s yours, ours. I get a thrill from the chill ..” she half laughed at her unintended little poem, “when the breeze gets up my skirt…” she paused and added defensively, “do you think that’s weird?”

“I think it’s sweet,” he told her, “fact is, I don’t wash my face after I’ve loved your pussy. The scent of you lingers in my moustache and beard for the rest of the day.”

“Really?” she murmured. “Now that is sweet.”

“Very,” he said making a show of licking his lips.

She struggled into her bra. He watched her, his cock stirring at the sight.

Breakfast was hurried, just toast and coffee. They’d spent more time lovemaking than they’d realised.

She glanced at the clock, the bus was due in ten minutes. He was still in his bath robe. She moved towards him and straddled his leg. She flexed her knees and dropped her crotch onto his thigh. The action hidden under her skirt. “Just so long as I dry as fast as I leak.” she thrust forward wiping herself up his thigh, then down again. She stood and moved back grinning wickedly. His thigh was cool from her wetness, the skin glistened and he was damn near fully erect again.

“Got to go sweet.”

She turned in the doorway, her feet apart. Sure enough, there was that naughty breeze cooling her crotch as it fingered her panties. He leaned down and kissed her.

“Mmmm, marmalade and me,” she looked up at him, licked her lips, strangely moved by the taste and the obvious scent of herself around his mouth.

He’d caught her scent too, he licked his lips, “you are very sweet My Lady.”

(Mr.Webster gives nine meanings for SAVOUR, of which: The quality in a substance that is perceived by the sense of taste or smell and … The power to excite interest and … To relish or enjoy seemed to say it best.)

“Savour” © 2002 by Julius. All rights reserved. Content may not be copied or used in whole or part without written permission from the author.

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