━ &&. Sonate au clair de lune
It was nearing her bedtime and the little girl still hadn’t taken her bath. Allowing the water to run, she moved about to find Noelle. There could have possibly only two places she would be hiding: her room or her father’s den.
Passing by the den, she stopped for a moment and listened intently: nothing. Her ears were sharp and she could sense if there was a soul in that room but it was vacant. Calling out, she reached Noelle’s room where the little girl was hiding under her blankets, giggling. Shaking her head with a smile, Cecelia leaned against the door. “Mon coeur, what are you doing hiding those covers? You know it is nearly bedtime and you haven’t bathed.” The little girl popped from under her blankets, almost astonished at how the older woman knew she had been. “Now come, my darling. We must get you bathed and in bed before your father gets home.”
Compliant but hesitant, Noelle followed Cecelia into the bathroom and wiggled out of her clothes before jumping into the bathtub. They had a wonderful time together as Cecelia washed her hair and allowed the little girl to make a bubble beard for the both of them. “Like Papa!” Little Noelle exclaimed proudly. Cecelia couldn’t help but laugh, wiping the bubbles away as she cupped the little girl’s cheek. “Yes, my darling. Just like your father, you are just like your father: brilliant and oh so humorous,” she smiled. It was thirty minutes after the hour and after getting Noelle dried and in her pajamas, the little girl climbed into bed but not before asking for a bedtime story. Of course, Cecelia could not resist: she loved story time with Noelle because her imagination was just as wild and pure. It was one of the perks of the inability to see: her imagination, her dreams were so vivid and it was something Noelle had surely come to adore.
Cecelia told of princesses and princes, and how this particular princess didn’t need a prince to be exceptionally happy because she had all she could ever want or need: her family, the unconditional love for herself and the willpower to be strong and independent. Cecelia would hope one day that Noelle would realize this princess would be and should be her; that Noelle would one day grow up to independent and strong willed for she knew this little girl who held such a generous portion of her heart already was growing up to be as such. Feeling her little one slump into the spot next to her, she knew Noelle has fallen asleep. Tucking her into her bed, she kissed Noelle on the forehead brushing her hair aside. “Dormez bien, ma princesse. Je t'aime énormément,” she whispered softly.
Before the French woman knew it, it was almost 11 o'clock. Slipping out of Noelle’s room quietly, she made way to the bedroom: well Adrian’s bedroom where his king-size mattress would be awaiting her. It was almost wild to even fathom she would or could be here: to be the one staying and living him, making their lives work as a familial unit. It was comforting and it was something Cecelia would work hard towards everyday she was privileged to be with Adrian. She loved them without a doubt, and she only ever wanted what was and would be best for them. Removing her clothes, she tossed on her sheer nightgown over her bra and panties before crawling to into bed. It wasn’t long before the silence reeled her in and she had fallen asleep.
Her chest rose and fell as she slept soundly, hugging the pillow that Adrian’s head rested on at night. Everything smelled like him and it was long nights like these Cecelia found herself missing him before she would eventually fall asleep. Cecelia did fall into a slumber but it was when her body felt another move into bed behind her. Feeling a pair of lips trail along her shoulder and neck, she tossed lightly in bed before uttering his name. “Adrian, you’re home…” She managed to mumble as she turned to face him. Cecelia cupped his face, smiling as his beard tickled her fingertips listening to him speak. “You’re home. That’s all that matters, mon amour.” Adrian sighed her name as he kissed her knuckles and she could tell he was a tinge upset, exhausted and knew an apology would soon follow after but she didn’t need an apology. There was nothing to apologize for. She knew everything he did would be for his daughter, to give his daughter a better life. Cecelia respected that, respected him. Hushing him, her lips found his and she fell deep into for a brief moment as she closed the space between them. She’d been apart from him for so long today, she was craving this contact: this intimacy.
It wasn’t long before she wrapped her limbs around him, pulling him closer by the nape of his neck, her legs entwining with his. Her heart pounded erratically in her chest: never in a million years did Cecelia imagine she could love the way she felt and loved for Adrian, so genuinely and purely. His broad and calloused hands made way under her nightgown, touching and grazing her soft and delicate skin in which his gentle gestures elicited a soft moan from her. She felt his hands graze her stomach and for a split second, the brunette sucked her belly in before her back eventually curved: a desire in her slowly burning, a need… a yearning for him. “Adrian…” She inhaled sharply as he hovered over her, a little taken aback by his swift motion. He asked her if he had hurt her and she could sense the concern in his whisper. “Non, non Adrian,” she reassured him, hands placed on his stomach as she brushed her lips lightly against his. “Please don’t stop,” she mused softly, pulling him back down on her and kissing him deeply, needy of him.
Adrian wasn’t hesitant in the least and the next thing she knew, her nightgown had been stripped from her body leaving her only in her panties and his lips attached to her body once again. His touch was addictive, electric and it sent shivers and goosebumps over Cecelia’s body; but she loved it, craved it. The more Adrian kissed and worshipped her body, the more evident she felt the arousal between her legs. They were undeniably wet now and as Adrian kissed along her neck, she could only grasp the sheets beneath them. She needed him.
As his hands traveled to caress her body, she did the same: tracing dainty fingers along his back, his chest and arms, his stomach – any and every part of his body she could touch to draw and memorize an image of her beloved in her mind, and my god was it beautiful. Delicate fingertips caressed small scars no one would otherwise notice, the hair that covered a good portion of his chest, the outlining of muscles up and down his back and torso, and the occasional goosebumps that rose along his arms. She loved him: every scar, every dark secret, every part of him that hurt. Cecelia loved Adrian. His hands maneuvering about her body, she wanted to give him her all: Cecelia wanted love in its rawest, most vulnerable form. Feeling his fingers slip into her panties, the woman bit her lip, conscious of the sleeping child down the hall. "Adrian," she sighed as he rubbed circles against her swollen bud, her legs threatening to close around his hand as she dug her fingertips into the flesh of his back. Feeling his mouth latch to hers, she kissed him back passionately, opening her mouth to him as he tugged on her lower lip, moaning into his mouth as she did -- her legs falling open to him as she felt herself dripping from the way he'd been driving her mad.
She was needy of him for when they parted lips, she wanted sincerely to grab him by the face and kiss him again but couldn't find the will to do so. Instead, she let him take her body: letting Adrian tug down on the fabric that concealed her breasts, she felt his lips cover her sensitive mounds causing her back to arch, making her breasts fuller in his hands and mouth. God, she was so wet for him. Without a second thought, she reached between them, slipping her hand down his boxers and wrapping a cool hand around his cock. "Mon amour," she blushed wildly as she stroked his hardening length, how thick he was in her hands making her even more aroused than she already was. She gave his cock a gentle squeeze before he inserted a finger into her warm and inviting cunt, causing her to squeeze him a little more firmly. As Cecelia lazily stroked him, she couldn't help but move her hips into his hand. Adrian nudged her legs open a little more and she complied. Her panties clad against her skin as he fingered her, his digits easily gliding in and out of her warmth as she sighed and moaned from the pleasure; Cecelia gasped as he inserted another digit into her tight pussy but only making her wetter. "Please," she sighed softly letting go of his cock, "oh that feels so good," she cried then.
Her body was bending and soon, she felt his mouth encompass her womanhood. Cecelia swallowed the lump that formed in the back of her throat, inhaling sharply as Adrian inserted yet another finger into her tight cunt. Toes curled as her back arched from the pleasure, and she could feel her juices trickle down her thighs the faster he pumped his fingers in and out of her. Before she knew it, the remainder of her clothing had been haphazardly tossed aside leaving her utterly exposed to him. Cecelia gasped as she felt Adrian’s lips wrap around her swollen and sensitive clit, her slender fingers yanking at his short hair. The way his tongue felt against her glistening pussy when he lapped up her essence with the utmost delight only made the French woman blush hotly. “Adrian,” she moaned his name again. Cecelia could not contain herself: no one made her feel the way Adrian did -- her body was surrendering to him. He worked his fingers swiftly in and out of her, the pressure building up inside as she her legs began to quiver, threatening to close around his hand as he continued to work for his reward. Again, she felt his tongue flick at her clit and almost like a natural and unyielding reaction did she feel herself drip once more. She cooed his name, the noises emitting from between her legs enough to drive herself mad. Each time he hit her sweet spot and each time, she felt like she was going to ‘pee’ herself. She was so undeniably aroused and wet for him, Cecelia’s breathing heaved and the grip on his hair tightened as she finally came undone around his fingers. “Adrian!” She cried out, grasping the sheets then as she opened her legs and worked to swivel her pussy right onto his fingers. Cecelia could not help herself: slowly she was letting go, allowing those carnal desires to take over.
For a split second, Cecelia had forgotten all else but him. Slowing her motions, she laid there: panting heavily but needing and wanting more. As he removed his fingers from her, there was no doubt she felt empty then but she giggled softly as the French woman felt him place gentle kisses along her inner thigh. “Come here,” she whispered softly. Feeling him hover over him, Cecelia brushed slender fingers along his toned arms then up his neck, cupping his face as she pulled him down to her, kissing him passionately. She hummed delightfully into the kiss, letting him go for moment to discard the remainder of whatever clothing that had been restraining him before her lips founds his once more. Shivers ran up the woman’s spine as he grazed his calloused hands along the delicate flesh of her body, blushing once more as she could feel his gaze set on her. Nipples hard from the cool air, Cece spoke softly then. “Take me,” she mused as his broad hands grasped her waist and pulled her closer to him. “Show me, Adrian. I want to feel you.”
Nudging her legs open once more, she felt him guide his cock into her and all at once, the woman felt her insecurities disappear. Cecelia’s mouth fell open, her toes curled once more and she could feel the blood rushing through her veins at the penetration. “Oh, Adrian!” She cried out in pleasure as she took every inch of his thick cock, her rosy pussy stretching to accommodate him, the noises emitting between her legs becoming louder and wetter. Cecelia felt Adrian fall forward, holding onto him tightly as his name fell from her lips like waterfalls. Thrusting deeply each and every time only caused the blind woman to drag her nails down his back, marking him. Again, her back bowed and he swiftly moved an arm beneath her. “Ma cherie...” she moaned helplessly, mouth agape. Cecelia was nearing another strong orgasm: her virgin pussy so tight, the way it stroked Adrian’s thick and swelling cock -- the woman could almost pop him out from how tight and drenched she was, but worked to keep him inside of her as he continued to pump deep inside of her.
A few more strokes and she was coming undone once again; creating a mess all over him and their bed. It took a moment or two before Cecelia could relax herself a bit but she still would not be completely satisfied until she knew Adrian had his release as well. As she felt Adrian prop himself up on his forearms, Cecelia leaned up and brushed her lips gently against his. “I love you,” she managed to mutter as she ran delicate fingertips along his arms once more before grasping him by the nape of his neck and pulling him down on her. Foreheads touching, she moaned softly, urging him to let go. Her legs wrapped around his waist, Cecelia angled herself so he could go deeper and as he did, she felt him release himself inside of her. Not a sound escaped left her lips as he came hard and fast; her nails dug into his back once more as she finally let out a strained whine.
Adrian had left the brunette breathless and as he kept his face buried in the crook of her neck, she held him tightly not wanting to let go -- allowing herself to relish in this moment. Cecelia smiled to herself as he kissed her temple then her lips. Cupping his face, she traced her fingertips across his once more before kissing him again. The woman let out a sigh as he finally removed himself from her. Curling into him, she could only speak so softly. “Je vous aime de tout mon cœur, mon corps et de l'esprit aime... Je suis à vous sans aucun doute et je te aime,” she mused tiredly. Perhaps he would not understand a word she said, but she did mean every word. As he traced circles along her back, she only held onto him tighter and slowly, she drifted into a slumber.
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