Her dad died four weeks ago.

Things have been rough. The family had decided to take a previously booked holiday to the coast two weeks after the fact, and while everyone was raw, it was good to get away - so when, a couple of weeks later, a trip up took us north, we were up for the opportunity to get some much needed head space.

A couple we had planned to go with couldn't make it in the end, so we had each other to ourselves for the weekend. A bit of shopping and some lunch before the long drive up towards Manchester, blaring Hamilton and singing at the top of our lungs.

Some seclusion from external forces is good for a relationship as long in the tooth as ours; eight years means we're happy as anything just being in each others' company, in silence or chatting about nothing in particular; my best friend's impending bachelor party, or the ridiculous Christmas decorations already up in the restaurant we ate at that night, or the ”subtle vanilla notes” of our wine.

Honestly though, we'd just been looking forward to getting into our pyjamas and watching TV in the hotel bed. The Mummy Returns on ITV2 was lame enough to be entertaining but not demand too much attention.

Snuggled up, her subtle humping of my leg demands my attention more. Hello there. My glasses come off, and we start making out with little restraint. Breathing quickens on both sides as my hand slides up her shirt, the other groping at her backside. My god, this girl doesn't half have an arse.

“I think you should use both hands on my tits…”

Over recent months she's definitely become more direct. I like it. I also respond in kind.

“I think we should take your top off.”

No arguments from her; off it comes, revealing two gorgeous, familiar handfuls, capped by light pink nipples. They're perfect; what she doesn't possess in size is balanced out by sensitivity, and I know where to go to get a reaction. It's clear we're not bothering with teasing tonight, and she responds to my tongue and teeth by climbing onto my lap to grind on my cock.

This is one of our common positions, and even covered by clothing, I know it won't take long for her to grind herself to orgasm on me, especially with her chest being bathed by my tongue. Thing is, I took the liberty of grabbing a condom from the nightstand before we left home, and I'll be damned if I'm going to let go an opportunity to have her cumming over my dick. Unfortunately she's normally a one-shot gal; a bit like a lot of dudes in that respect...

So I pull down my own bottoms before tugging at the waistband of hers. She gets the idea pretty quickly, maneuvering slightly awkwardly in her haste to get them down before resuming her position. That feeling of warm skin on skin electrifies us both, and her grinding intensifies. If I'm not careful, she'll be over the top before I know it. Better make sure she knows what's on offer.

“Just so you know, I brought protection.”

She moans loudly.

Bar a frenzied and slightly reckless week after we fucked for the very first time, in which we christened half the rooms of my childhood home, we've used condoms for our entire relationship. We've never discussed other methods of contraception; partly I guess due to an unfamiliarity with the pill and a reluctance to ask her to mess with the hormones of an already disgruntled body, and partly because she probably wouldn't trust it anyway - we REALLY don't want kids and can't afford to slip up. Or so we thought.

Without a stitch between us, my hands go wandering over her naked body. I cannot for love nor money resist that arse, and invariably my left hand snakes down her back, squeezing a cheek before the heat from between her legs draws it down further to the warm folds of her pussy.

She's a big fan of multiple avenues of attack, so with my mouth still going on her right breast, I easily slide my middle finger into her. Like a handhold, I use the angle to leverage some pressure on her insides.

All the while, I start to thrust up at her, sliding the length of my cock along her lips and across her clit. My three angles of attack are driving her wild, but none more so than when the tip slips up between her legs, the head probing her folds where only my digit prevents it popping inside her. God this is hot.

She clearly agrees, whimpering every time I repeat the action. You can't really blame me with that kind of encouragement, and so I firmly keep adding pressure to increase her arousal, alternating to slide it back across her clit for added teasing. But we the tenth or so time of pressing, with my own mind fogging over, she speaks between ragged breaths.

“Take away your finger. Please.”

Fuck. I hesitate momentarily, but she grabs my wrist herself as my hips carry on upwards, dragging my soaking digit away from her twat.

“Ohhhhhhhhh.”

'Ohhhhhhhhh’ is right. She's so damn tight, and my brain is flooded with the heat of her on the head of my cock. But it's been a long time since we've been in this situation and without a condom’s lube, it goes no farther than an inch or two.

Irrespective of the - albeit distant - alarms going off in my head, she's almost desperate for it.

“Why isn't it going…” she falters.

She shifts, taking me out of her. Second thoughts, perhaps?

Nope. Simply a reposition, and before I know it I'm in heaven again, this time the resistance lessening as the weight of her body above me, and her natural lubrication slowly eases me into her. The danger is firing off all sorts of endorphins in my brain, mixing with the exquisite feeling of her heat and softness around my shaft, as well as the general scent of sex in the air.

God I love her. On a hormonal level it's difficult not to think that when you're 3 inches from bottoming out in a vagina, but it's true regardless. She's been amazingly strong over the last month, and she has my endless respect. The combination of the two makes for a powerful cocktail and it’s taking what little cognitive function I have left not to pump the handful of times it would take before emptying my balls inside her. It’s all I can do not to as she takes the rest of me in her, resting her pelvis against mine.

We stay like that for a moment, breathing heavily still, and staring each other in the eyes, almost daring the other to move.

“Wow.”

I’m not even sure who said that. We were definitely both thinking it - but it’s definitely me who groans when she has the audacity to start lifting herself up and down, ever so slowly.

“Stop stop stop stop!” I plead.

I was slowly regaining some composure, but the heat, and the feel of her naked body, and the knowledge of how risky this could be is more enough without the movement too. It’s not like I don’t have stamina, but this is all so overwhelming, you can hardly blame me.

She relents, and sits there smiling down at me, eyes practically rolling back into my head. She rubs her hands up across my chest, and leans forward to kiss me. Of course, the movement of this alone lifts her pussy off me slightly, and leaning back again buries me in her completely again. I groan again.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I think so. You just feel so good.”

She pouts, with a mischievous glint in her eye. In lieu of actively riding me, she starts rotating her hips, testing the limits of what she can get away with. She knows I want to do what I would normally do in this position - grab her by the spot where her bum cheeks meet each leg, lift up her arse, and start pounding her with the full length of my cock - so she’s almost trying to goad me, despite the peril of an accident.

And it works. My body wins out over my brain, starting to thrust in the small margin of space created by her circular movements. It’s indescribable how good it feels: it’s not like her cooch is made of velvet or anything, but pretty much every woman’s is gonna be pretty great on a normal day, and the novelty increases the pleasure immeasurably.

But I can’t do it; I have to stop. Understandably she whimpers.

“It’s okay baby.”

“Sorry.”

She pauses.

“....can I cum on your dick?”

I grin, and with that she starts grinding again. My brain retains control this time, turning my attention to making sure she gets off before I lose control again. I dig my fingertips into her thighs to give her a little endorphin boost, and then deliberately slide both hands over her hips, up her sides and cup both breasts, squeezing each nipple hard between thumb and forefinger.

She inhales sharply - and I can’t say it doesn’t still feel good for me to. As she starts to grind faster I sit up and do two things I know will get here where she wants to go.

Firstly, latch onto a nipple with my mouth. She always goes fucking bananas for this, and tonight is no different. A little light biting doesn’t go amiss either, holding it in my teeth for a few seconds while my tongue flicks the tip before pressing the flat of it against her beast.

Meanwhile, I slip my right hand back round to grab a handful of butt cheek. In recent months I’ve seen absolutely no resistance to my hands doing pretty much what they want back there, and in the heat of her ramping up to orgasm I start rubbing my middle finger firmly up and down her crack before digging the rest of my fingers into her soft flesh as an anchor, and start teasing her asshole with the tip of my digit.

After mere seconds she starts bucking as she climaxes, and it’s all I can do to hold on, like a reverse rodeo where I’m the bull trying to hold onto the rider. I maintain the points of contact on her chest, butt, and of course crotch as the orgasm subsides. Mission accomplished.

She wraps her arms around my shoulders, savouring the wave of bliss and burying her face in my neck. When she finally disengages she looks me in the eyes and smiles before finally dismounting.

We’re weirdly at the opposite ends and on opposite sides of the normal male/female post-coital spectrum; she’s almost always immediately sleepy after sex, and as a generally quite sleepy person she sort of settles in against my body after I lay back. Me? Buzzing and entirely awake, unlike the stereotype of guys in general.

So I’m unlikely to get mine, much as she’d loves me to bathe her tits in cum, but that’s fine; sometimes it’s all about one person, and for the first time in weeks she looks peaceful and happy, and I’m all about that.

I’ll definitely get my chance again; it’s not like either of us is going anywhere.