Sherry, The Story Teller Pt. 2 - Sex Stories

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Sherry, The Story Teller Pt. 2

Date: 10/11/2015, Categories: Straight Sex, Author: Sisyphus, Rating: 2, Source: LushStories

breasts through the thin material, but I didn't care. “This is my favorite nightgown,” I told him. When we cuddled and I had my head on his chest, he gently rubbed my back and I was surprised how soothing his hand felt. His hand moved to my ass as I snuggled into his arms, but just as I started to feel aroused by his touch, I kissed his cheek and rolled onto my side, away from him and said, “Goodnight.” Surprised he didn't attempt to spoon with me, I turned to see he had closed his eyes and was drifting off to sleep. For a few minutes I lay next to him, my back to him and wondered why he didn't try to fuck me. Strange. The next morning, I saw he was still sleeping, so I quietly went into the kitchen, made a pot of coffee and was writing on my laptop at the kitchen table when he came in wearing his short maroon robe, partially opened, and kissed me on the cheek and poured himself a cup of coffee. “ What are you writing?” he asked. “ I'm working on the end of the story I was telling you last night, so I can't stop to talk.” “ Is that so?” He chuckled and reached for my hand and kissed it. “ I can't wait to read it to you later,” I said and continued writing, staring at the screen. “ I was impressed how you can tell a story like that just off the top of your head.” “ Well, I just let my imagination go, but when I'm writing, it's just like I'm saying it out loud but then I can go back and improve the writing. I want my stories to sound spontaneous and like I'm telling it. It's ... the art of appearing artless. Now let me concentrate.” “ You're quite the storyteller. I'm not used to having such a talented artist in my apartment.” “ I know what you're used to,” I said, sarcastically, narrowing my eyes, then went back to reading what I had just written. “Now, if you will excuse me, I want to see if I can nail the end of the story so I can read it to you tonight.” He went to the counter to pour himself another cup of coffee and then, without asking, poured more coffee into my cup, then kissed the top of my head. “ Thanks.” I smiled up at him, then went back to writing, but thought, Why is he being so nice. It's not like him. He stood at the counter and sipped his coffee while I continued writing, but found myself distracted by his presence and could feel him watching me and tried to block him out, but couldn't. I was wearing my sheer nightgown and looked at him against the counter with his robe open, his bulging bikini underwear, his hairy chest and legs, his longish hair, his handsome face with the shadow of a beard, his dark eyes looking at me with an intensity that made me swallow. “ Why are you looking at me like that?” I asked. “ You fascinate me.” “ I do? What fascinates you?” “ How you operate? How you're trying to get what you want by telling me a story and playing with my mind. I know what you're doing?” “ You do, do you?” “ Yes, I'm enjoying you. You're right, you're not what I'm used to. You're entertaining. You make me laugh. You're playing hard ...