The snow had been falling steadily for several hours, covering the ground with more than five inches of crystalline flakes. You looked out of the living room window of your new home at the fresh blanket of winter white and frowned at how little of your driveway could be visibly followed from the garage to the street. Night was rapidly approaching, and the mercury vapor street light down the block reflected against the snow, creating a faint reddish-violet glow in the twilight.
I really should have the drive shoveled tonight, you thought to yourself, trying to remember which neighbor had the able-bodied teens needing some spending money.
The fireplace crackled with a soothing warmth, split hickory logs filled the house with a muted nutty scent as they burned. You turned from the window and crossed the room to the couch. A single lamp upon an end table bathed the area in just enough light to read. You sat on the edge of the cushion as you began flipping through your address book, looking for the fresh ink of new neighbors.
You paused to sip from your glass of wine, enjoying the flavor as you held it in your mouth before swallowing. Then you smiled when you noticed where your finger had landed in the book: Alex Watkins.
Oh, how many times we joked about me shoveling your driveway, and what kind of "payment" would be rewarded for my efforts. You took a slightly longer draw of wine, and let your head come to rest on the high-backed couch as you scooted back from the edge, curling your legs beneath you. You closed your eyes as you sighed and wished I wasn't so far away. All fantasies aside, you really did need your driveway cleared.
A sound outside made you open your eyes. Had minutes or just seconds passed? You glanced at the fireplace and noticed the fire was still burning...it couldn't have been too long. You heard the sound again over the quiet crackling of the fire...footsteps in the snow coming toward your front door. They stopped, and then a gloved hand rapped softly on the heavy wood.
You got up and went to the door. "Who's there," you called out. You were glad you had bolted the door securely as your mother had taught you.
"Snow shoveling, ma'am...at your service." The voice through the door sounded friendly and familiar. You peered through the peephole just as the tall person in a heavy hooded coat turned away and began shoveling the snow from the short walkway with a long-handled snow shovel. That must be Mr. England, or Engleman, whatever his name was, from two houses down and across the street. He had waved when you jogged past his house the other evening, and you had heard him call to his children to come home for dinner.
You watched him clear the driveway near the garage through the living room window before returning to the couch. What a nice neighbor to offer help before it was asked of him, you decided. Money would seem like such a crass repayment to an adult. The least you could do was make him a nice hot mug of real hot cocoa, and you wouldn't mind some yourself. As the rhythmic sounds of shovel blade scraping against asphalt set an easy tempo, you got to work in your kitchen.
As you stirred the heating milk and Godiva cocoa powder with the wooden spoon, the fading sounds of shoveling indicated the job had progressed nearly to the street, and your kind neighbor would soon be done. You tasted the sweet chocolate from the end of the spoon. Excellent. You poured the steaming drink from the saucepan into two large ceramic mugs. Note to self, you thought: buy marshmallows next trip to the store.
Looking out the window once more, you saw that the shoveling was within one or two more minutes from completion. You steeled yourself to the cold as you opened the front door and called to your Samaritan. "I've got hot cocoa here for you," you waved to the man. He turned part way toward you and waved back an acknowledgment before returning to the task at hand. You quickly shut the door and skipped over to the toasty fireplace, shivering and giggling at the chill.
The muffled sound of shoveling came to a stuttering stop, followed by the easy stride of heavy boots up the drive. The gloved hand knocked again, and you used the door as a shield against the cold as you opened it to let the man in. He was quite tall, you realized. Somewhat taller than you had perceived Mr. England/Engleman as being. A sudden flash of doubt crossed your mind as the snow shoveler worked his hands free from his gloves to better undo the hood obscuring his face. Who is this man?
As you watched the snow shoveler untie the drawstring from his hood, your mind raced to identify him, partly in fear, mostly in embarrassment for not recognizing him earlier. He still had his back to you as he silently moved his hands in a stiffened manner, affected, no doubt, by the winter cold. You convinced yourself that this person was not neighbor England/Engleman, as you had thought.
It seemed to take the man a long time to undo his hood, and almost as long to pull it away from his head to reveal himself. He shook his head like a dog coming out of water, his collar-length hair slightly damp from the exertion of shoveling. He gave out a deep breath and turned toward you, smiling.
"Oh my God!" you gasped, putting a hand to your slack-jawed mouth.
"Hello, Jill," I said matter-of-factly, still grinning.
"What...how...," was all you could say at first, shaking your head in disbelief.
I shrugged as I continued to remove my heavy parka. "You needed your driveway shoveled, didn't you?"
"How...what...," you rephrased. Your hand was still at your mouth.
I chuckled at you. "Do you really want an explanation? Because I'm not sure even I know what I'm doing here!"
You simply leaned against the door as you watched me slip my arms free of my coat, and toss it onto an antique wooden chair next to where you stood. My light-gray sweatshirt showed spots of dampness where I was perspiring on my chest. I leaned down and began to unlace my hiking-style boots with the big-treaded soles. I looked like an awkward stork as I lifted each leg to pull off the boots, making half-hopping corrections to my balance.
"Don't worry," I said, still grinning as I placed the boots under the chair, "my feet usually don't stink!" I pulled at the sweatshirt clinging to my torso. "I hope I can say that about the rest of me, too! Whew! Either I worked up a bit of a sweat out there, or your fireplace has made it warm in here!"
Your mind and mouth finally cooperated enough to speak in multi-syllables. "Yes, I do have the fireplace set on 'toasty'. I love it this way."
"I like it, too," I said as I stepped toward you and pulled you away from the door and into a hug. You were still too stunned to really hug me back. I gave you a quick kiss on the cheek as I leaned back to look into your eyes. "I seem to have scared you silly. Does this mean I don't get my hot chocolate?"
That made you smile. "I'm not scared...I just never expected..." You stopped again as confusion derailed your thoughts once more. You squeezed my waist as if to affirm that I was really, truly there.
"Hey...I'm ticklish," I protested. I tucked my forefinger under your chin and tilted it up toward me as my lips sought out yours. I kissed you gently, but affectionately. "How's that for positive identification, Ma'am?"
The way you kissed me back was all the reply I needed. We stood there for a few minutes, kissing sweetly in a loving embrace.
"Mmm..." I sighed. "It sure is good to see you again."
"It's been too long," you agreed. You playfully ran your nails up and down my back, glad that I was definitely not a mirage of sorts. I shivered from the sensation, with an aftershock coming close behind from the lingering chill of the outside air. "Come over here by the fireplace and warm up! You're still cold!"
"I'm hot and cold at the same time," I said, letting you tug me toward the crackling fire. "Once I knew there was a cocoa reward in here, I shoveled like a maniac to finish as fast as I could." I cradled the mug of hot chocolate you handed me and took a sip. "Damn, this is good stuff!" I licked the chocolate foam from my upper lip.
"Jill knows cocoa," you boasted with a laugh.
I took another sip and grunted in agreement. "This is warming me up just perfectly." I continued to pull at my clinging sweatshirt, trying to move some air between my skin and the damp cloth. "I love your new home," I said, looking around.
"I can't believe I'm really here," you sighed. "I really, really like it here." You took me by the hand and walked me through the house, showing me every closet and cupboard. I wasn't sure if I was listening to an architect or a real estate salesperson.
When we got to the master bedroom, you proudly showed me the walk-in closet and the hidden stairway to the third floor/attic. I poked my head into the spacious master bath, and whistled to hear the reverberations reflecting from the tile, making my mental calculations of the decay time. The Ronettes would have loved singing in here.
"Jill," I inquired, "would it be terribly rude of me to ask if I could take a quick shower? I'm afraid I've sweated just a little more than I wished I had. I'd only be five minutes, and I promise not to leave any hairs on the soap!"
Your eyes twinkled as you quickly grabbed towels and a washcloth from the linen closet. "It's not rude at all," you assured me, "in fact, I apologize for not offering my shower to you immediately." You laughed at what you said. "It's not that you smell, of course! I just want you to be as comfortable as you can be!"
You showed me where to find the shampoo, the bodywash, and how the hot and cold water faucets rotated for the best temperature. "You go ahead and shower, and I'll get you another mug of hot chocolate," you said as you turned for the kitchen.
I left the bathroom door ajar, adjusted the water flow, and quickly shucked out of my sweatshirt, bluejeans, socks and boxers. Thick steam soon filled the air with its heavy moisture as I pirouetted under the pulsing spray, luxuriating in the invigorating stream. I could have showered for an hour, it felt so nice, but I reminded myself to be the civilized guest, and finished within minutes. I groped outside the shower and found my towel, pulling it back into the stall to dry myself there as to not drip all over the place. When I had toweled my hair and head to the point where I could see clearly, I noticed the pile of clothes I left on the floor were now gone. In its place was a neatly folded dark-blue robe of plush terrycloth. I stepped into the soft robe and immediately noticed it was fitted for a man's build. I also discovered a fresh mug of cocoa on the vanity, and sipped from it as I ran my fingers through my towel-tousled hair, combing it away from my eyes and forehead as best as possible.
I called out for you from the bathroom doorway, but got no response. I tied the warm, cozy robe loosely, and with mug in hand, headed back to the living room to find you.
I found the living room darkened, illuminated softly by the scampering flicker from the fireplace, as well as a stout scented candle replacing the table lamp's electric light. It smelled good, like berries of some kind. Sweet, but not too fruity.
I walked into the living room and settled into a high-backed plush chair near the fireplace, sipping at my mug of hot chocolate. All at once my damp hair felt cool, and I pulled tight at the robe, making sure my knees were covered. The fire warmed my shins, and where the heat's reach faded, a shock of goosebumps rippled up my body from mid-thigh to my scalp. I took another mouthful of hot chocolate and held it there, trying to stop my teeth from chattering.
"You certainly took a quick shower," you said, surprising me from behind the chair as you came back into the room, clutching a large bed comforter in both arms. "You didn't give me any time to get the fireplace all ready. Did you run out of hot water?"
"No," I replied as I watched you throw out the comforter into a makeshift rug before the stone hearth. "I just didn't want to leave you without any for yourself. I'm not here to be an uninvited guest from Hell."
You tugged at one end of the comforter until it was spread evenly between the chair where I sat and the couch. It looked very thick and, well, comforting! As you straightened yourself and faced me, I realized you had changed into a long robe as well, a hunter green thermal knit robe that enveloped you from shoulders to ankles. "You may be unexpected, but you're certainly not uninvited," you smiled. "As for the Hell part, I think you've already been close enough to that address, but I know it's not where you live."
I took another large slug of the cocoa as I watched you turn and walk to the kitchen, quickly returning with a bottle of wine and two short-stemmed wine glasses. You settled down onto the comforter as only you women can, folding your long legs beneath you as you kept the wine and glasses perfectly balanced. "You look like you have a chill," you said. "Why don't you come down here closer to the fire with me, and trade in your mug for some wine to warm you up a bit faster?"
A sudden chill zipped up my back, and I leaned into a half-tumble, plopping onto the comforter while managing to keep my knees covered with the robe. I smiled as I scooted over to you and the fireplace, welcoming the heat on my face and head. You poured me a glass of Zinfandel and handed it to me. Our fingers brushed at the exchange. You poured yourself some wine and set the bottle at the edge of the comforter, away from the glow of the fire.
"A toast to snow shoveling," you declared, "and a fine job at that." I laughed and touched my glass to yours.
"Don't toast me too much," I warned after taking a sip of the sweet, light wine. "If it keeps snowing like it was, I'll need to be back out there again fairly soon."
You shook your head as you swallowed your mouthful of wine. "Not too soon. I took your wet clothes and threw them into the washing machine. It'll take some time until they're clean and dried."
"Am I to write a 'thank you' note to a past or present boyfriend of yours for the use of this robe?"
"No," you smiled, "that robe was a gift from the Double Tree Inn of Phoenix. After our company designed their new hotel layout, they showed their gratitude with His & Hers robes. You're the first to wear it, and I'd say it almost fits you!"
"It's a bit short at the knees," I blushed, "but it feels good! Mmm...virgin terrycloth!"
"I prefer my Victoria's Secret robe," you said as you shifted your shoulders. "The Hers robe from the Double Tree is much too short for this weather!"
I raised my wine glass. "I propose a toast to Victoria's Secret, and to the women who wear it!" We clinked together again as we laughed. The wine tasted good, and I took a longer sip after the second toast. "Tell me, Jill," I asked, "are you wearing more of Vicky's secrets under that comfy robe?"
"Mmm...I might be," you demurred. "I've been known to have worn a thing or two by VS." You looked at me with those incredible eyes as you took another sip of your wine. "Just how curious are you, Alex?"
My mouth broke into a big smile as I moved even closer to you. "Curiosity may have killed the cat, but I'm feeling like a dog right about now!"
I reached out to you and pulled you close. My hands touched your shoulders as our lips met. It was a quick kiss, and I pulled back a few inches to look for your approval. Your left hand tangled in my still-damp hair, and pulled me back in for more, answering any lingering questions I may have had.
I kissed you gently, just enjoying the softness of your lips. You inhaled and pressed closer to me, letting your mouth open slightly. I shivered, partly from the chill of my damp hair, but mostly from my increasing excitement, as I touched my tongue-tip to yours. We explored each others' inviting mouth, tasting and stroking with our tongues.
I broke our kiss and nuzzled along your left cheek to your jawline, and down to your neck. I pecked and smooched at every inch of neck I could find, luxuriating in your sensuous scent of perfume and rising passion. You moaned so deeply as my hands slipped from your shoulders to the front of your robe, finding and untying the sash at your waist. I moved my lips back to yours for another sweet kiss as I opened your robe. Then I sat back and took in the wonderful sight before me.
"They're called cardigan tunic pajamas," you explained as you let the robe drop from your shoulders. A heather gray satin-buttoned oversized top with matching full-length bottoms. "It's one of my favorites for nights like this."
I wasn't sure if you were referring to the type of weather, or the type of company, but it didn't matter to me either way. I liked it, plain and simple.
I moved back into your embrace, and we continued to kiss. My hands ran up and down your back as you wrapped your arms around my neck. I straightened up to my knees and pulled you to me, feeling your lush breasts press against my chest, our bellies and thighs meeting in their own kiss. Our tongues dueled again as our pulses quickened, our breaths becoming shallow with desire. I could feel your nipples stiffen through your pajamas and the terrycloth of my robe, and my cock began to fill with blood and poke at your right thigh.
You sighed into my ear as I began to nibble your neck once more. I guided you backward to lie down on the thick comforter, crouching over you in hot pursuit. I kept up with the nibbles and kisses as my fingers began to seek ways of undoing the buttons of your top. Your hands joined mine to hurry the task along. With a tug and a pull, your smooth skin was revealed, textured with the hint of goosebumps as slightly cooler air circulated around you.
Once again, I lifted my head from your shoulder to gaze upon you, my eyes drinking in the heady sight of your increasing nakedness, far sweeter and sexually intoxicating than any wine. Your pajama top slipped away from your breasts, revealing your fully hardened nipples in their upstanding glory. They begged to be kissed and sucked, and I was more than ready to oblige. My mouth returned to your neck, quickly issuing parting nibbles, to then move on down to your clavicle. I kissed and licked at the delicately raised flesh there, following the ridge from your shoulder to the hollow of your neck. The tip of my nose tickled at the faint depression between your collar bones, and you grabbed at my shoulders to keep from giggling.
My lips continued down your chest, following your sternum to the valley between your breasts. I lingered there to slicken the skin with my saliva, then kissed slowly up the slope of your right tit. I circled the stiff nipple with my tongue three times before descending upon the delightful spike with an open mouth. I sucked in your erected bud and washed it thoroughly with my warm spit. You gasped as I drew your nipple into my mouth and suckled lovingly. I let it pop free of my suction, and moved immediately to your left breast to treat the nipple there to the same affections.
I feasted upon your fantastic nipples for a few minutes, enjoying every second of it, feeling you squirm and writhe under my oral ministrations. My hands cradled the outsides of your tits as I moved from nipple to nipple, getting them so wet and so hard. Your hands moved from my shoulders to the back of my head, holding me to your heaving breasts, groaning and growling with appreciation and need. I moved my open mouth to the underside of your breasts, kissing the hot, satiny skin there, following the curve of your mounds to the sides and giving kisses to that area below your arms. It tickled you slightly, and you grabbed my head to move me back to your cooling nips. They were fat and swollen, dark with passion. I felt your chest vibrate as you purred with satisfaction as I sucked harder at your titflesh.
Your hips began to sway, and my hands moved downward from your breasts to the waistband of your pajama bottoms. I found a drawstring loosely knotted, and undid it easily with one hand. You exhaled loudly as you arched your hips, giving me the freedom to pull your bottoms down past your hips. My hands stopped there as my mouth began to follow, leaving behind your shiny-slick tits to glide along the ribs to the shallow harbor of your tummy. My chin found the indent of your navel, and my gliding tongue circled it again and again. Your fingers combed through my tangled hair as I found the peaks of each hip bone, and tongued them until wet. Again I nuzzled my way down your flat tummy until I reached the gentle rise of your pubic mound. The tightly curled hair tickled my chin, and I stroked my cheek against the soft curls. My nostrils flared as they detected the erotic perfume of your sex. You smelled good. My mouth began to water for the taste of you.
Instead of going further, I suddenly got back up to my knees. You looked so damn sexy lying there, bathed in the soft glow of firelight and candlelight. I reached for my glass of wine and drained it with four large sips. It felt good on my throat as I swallowed. Setting the empty glass down, I smiled at you and asked, "Jill, Sugar, for my next trick I'll need some Altoids or Tic Tacs...where do you keep them?"
You propped up onto one elbow and pointed toward the kitchen. "I think there are some Altoids in the drawer under the microwave oven," you snickered, anticipating what was to come. Watching me as I stood and walked into the kitchen, you kicked your legs free of the pajama bottoms, then finished off the wine in your glass, and poured more for both of our glasses.
I rummaged through the drawer, pushing aside pens, Post-it pads and take-out menus, until I found the Altoids tin. I opened the round lid on my way back into the living room, and popped two of the tiny mints into my mouth, biting down on them with my molars until they crunched loudly. "Wow, that's much more kick than a Tic-Tac," I whistled, my eyes watering a bit from the strong bite of British peppermint. "But I have a feeling you'll enjoy this!"
I set aside the Altoids, and lowered myself between your legs again as I shuffled the bits of the mints around my mouth with my tongue. The heady aroma of peppermint acted like a decongestant as my nose and throat opened to cool blasts of air. I began to kiss along your thighs from the knees upward, letting the last bits of peppermint dissolve in my mouth. My moist pecks felt cool on your satiny skin from the effects of peppermint oil. You parted your thighs wider as my head inched closer to your expectant vagina. The combined scents of your ready, wet pussy with the spicy mint were delightful. I settled down fully between your splayed legs, and moved my hands up to caress your vulva. You moaned as I massaged the beautifully sculpted labia before me, parting on their own accord, shining with your excitement. I used my thumbs to part them further, exposing the pink slick flesh of your hot cunt, the clit standing stiff and ready at the top of the slit.
You tipped your crotch up to my face, and I responded by leaning in and touching my tongue-tip to the pearl of your clitoris. The strong peppermint oils in my saliva zapped your pleasure button with an electric charge of instant arousal. It felt icy-hot, almost too much of a good thing, but I hadn't even started. I lapped repeatedly at your clitty, bathing it in sensual fire. I then swept my flattened tongue down the length of your spread-open vagina, adding my cool-spiced spit to the copious love-honey flowing from your depths. I licked at you as wetly as I could, wanting to coat your pussy lips as much as wanting to eat every drop of your juices.
"Oooohhh...Alex..." you groaned loudly as the erotic burn of mint sent your passion soaring with tingly itches of goodness. Your hands gripped my ears as I licked and licked at your snatch. Your heightened pleasure sent a heavy flow of sweet pussy juice to my searching lips and tongue, and I held my breath as I sought to scoop up as much of the delicious nectar as I could. You tasted so fantastic, so wonderful. I tried to plunge my tongue deep into your cunt, but your labia had become so swollen and soaked with girl-cum that it covered my nose, making it hard to breath! I pulled back slightly to spread your vulva open even wider, eventually scooping my hands under your thighs and pushing your legs back up to your chest. As your knees touched your heaving breasts, your pussy blossomed open like a freshly sliced peach, so beautiful, so exciting. A large gush of girl-cum flowed from your vagina, sliding down your innermost thighs to your exposed ass. I dived for the slippery essence, running my thirsty tongue down to lap at all that it had coated, from the fat labia at the mouth of your cunt, to the perfect pucker of your ass.
The peppermint on my tongue lit anew the sparks of passion as your ass clenched in response to the wet strokes of my oral brushes. I bathed your tender ass with broad licks, covering it with the cool fire of Altoids. Then I raised my mouth just inches, and blew a cool stream of minty air onto the wet skin. "OOOOHHHH, mmmMMMM!" you squealed, as your hips bucked at the peppermint tingle in your ass. I watched your pucker clench hard at the strange new sensation, then relax in helpless submission. I took that moment to dive again and spear my pointed tongue into your slackened back door. I tongued your ass over and over, feeling your rubbery ring grip at my oral invader as I stroked the inner walls, painting them with my minty saliva. My nose was buried in the soaked skin of your cunny, my face was slathered with your scrumptious juices.
I tongue-fucked your sweet ass for another few moments, then popped my tongue free from your gripping pucker and moved back up to your drenched vagina. I blew a quick puff of air over your splay, then attacked your clitty once more with quick flicks of my tongue. You breathed hard and groaned in approval as I brought the middle finger of my right hand to the mouth of your pussy, and pushed inside. Your heavy flow of girl-cum quickly oiled my finger, and I stroked my digit easily to the tempo of my lashing tongue.
You couldn't take much more of my oral loving. You were on the edge of a shattering orgasm. Your hands clenched my head hard as my tongue moved in circles around the stiff button of your clitoris. I picked up the pace with my tongue as I felt your body tense in preparation of a major climax, and lashed mercilessly at your swollen clit.
"Alex..." you gasped, "Alex...suck it...suck my clit...and...finger my ass..."
So I did. I took your hard bud between my lips and sucked at it as if it were a nipple, drawing it into my mouth. My middle finger almost squirted from your hot, soaked cunt as the first pre-orgasmic contraction hit your hips. I moved it down to your ass and tapped at your pucker, looking for any relaxation to make my insertion. But you were starting to peak, and I didn't have any more time. I firmly but gently pressed inward with my slippery digit, and felt the tight clench give way.
"UUUUuuuunnnnnnggGGGGH!!!" you cried out as my finger slid in to the first knuckle, then to the second knuckle on my second stroke. Your ass was so hot and tight, and I stroked you there as you lost all control and came hard. I tongue-twirled at your hard clit in my sucking mouth as you shuddered and shook. Your hands gripped my head very tightly as you crested, your thighs came down from your body and trapped my shoulders.
"GGGGGGODDDD!!!! I'M CUMMIIIIIINNNNGGG!!!!!" you screamed, not being the least but quiet about it. "YYYYEEEEEESSSSSSSSSssssssssssssssss..."
I dutifully kept my mouth sucking at your vibrating clit as I rode with you through your mighty orgasm, tenderly fingering your ass until you arched your hips one last time, and collapsed. Your breathing was heavy and labored. Your chest rose and fell in stuttering spasms. You licked your lips noisily, your mouth suddenly parched and thirsty. I let my finger slide free as I raised my head and began to crawl up over your twitching body. I paused to kiss at your still-swollen nipples, noting how warm they were against my lips.
"Oh my God oh my God oh my God," you murmured as your climax abated to a fuzzy glow. I crouched over you and kissed your neck. Your arms found the coordination and strength to reach around my neck, and you sought out my mouth with yours. We kissed slowly and lovingly, trading tongues lazily. Then you sucked playfully on the tip of my tongue, tasting both the remnants of the Altoids and the erotic flavors of your girl-cum. "Ummmm..." you smiled as we broke our kiss, "I may have to buy shares of Altoids tomorrow."
"They probably are worth a mint by now," I punned badly as I sat back on my heels and reached for our wine glasses, "especially after all of the recent publicity they've received in the chat rooms."
You propped up on one elbow to take a sip of wine. "They definitely have my endorsement," you sighed. Another sip was needed to completely rewet your dry mouth. I took a long draw of the Zinfandel, feeling it clash mightily over my tastebuds with the lingering mint. The fresh wine got the upper hand, and I decided to down the entire glass right then.
"You're not going to get drunk and pass out on me?" you inquired with a raised eyebrow. "I'm not done with you yet."
I laughed at that. "Sugar, don't worry. I'm not done with you either! I'm just replacing all that I sweated while shoveling the driveway." I moved back to your side, took your glass and placed it on the floor next to mine, and swept you back into my arms for another kiss.
We snuggled like that, you atop of me, for several minutes. Our post-orgasmic glow flowed in sweet swirls through our bodies, exiting through our feet as we playfully wriggled our toes against each other's.
I softly kissed your forehead as we silently reviewed the passion we exchanged, not wanting to lose the memories in the blur of everyday activities.
You kissed my chest, then looked at me. "My mouth is dry again," you said. "Shall we have some more wine?" You raised up slightly and reached to our glasses by the edge of the comforter. I took mine from your hand and watched you take a long sip of the Zinfandel. You smiled as you looked at me, a very happy girl indeed.
I raised my head as high as I could and tipped my glass to my lips. You giggled as I spilled wine down my chin and neck before getting the rim to my lips. I laughed as I swallowed, and held my glass away as you leaned in to lick at the dribbled wine on my chin, following it down to the hollow of my collar bone. I shifted my hips and eased us to our sides, somehow managing to keep our glasses from spilling any more. I drained the rest of my wine in two gulps and watched you continue to sip at yours like a civilized lady.
"Let's spoon our bodies," I suggested, "and watch the fire do it's dance around the logs."
I quickly moved behind you and slid my body up to your backside. I shifted my knees to the backs of yours, and pressed my wet crotch against your curved tush. I settled my chest along your back and draped my left arm over your waist. Propping my chin on the crook of your shoulder, we snuggled close together again and listened to the fire crackle and pop, enjoying the fuzzy heat it made.
We didn't say a word for a while, then began to talk idly of a range of subjects, from the physics of flame and fire, to the different types of stone used in making fireplaces. It felt so good to spoon with you.
Finishing the last drop of wine, you playfully tossed the empty glass aside and turned your head to look at me. "Now that my wine is gone," you whispered sexily, "I'd like something of yours to drink."
"Jill," I explained, "I finished my glass a few minutes ago."
"Silly," you nudged me, "you promised me I could suck you off after we boffed." You rolled to your knees and crawled to me, your eyes sparkling with lust.
I flashed a Cheshire grin. "I like to keep my promises!" Then I frowned suddenly, and looked at you apologetically.
"What's wrong?" you asked.
I sheepishly shrugged my shoulders. "Too much wine!"
"Oh, I can take care of that!"
I laughed. "No, I'm sure of that! I just need to make a pitstop first. The one-two combo of lots of good wine and a strong orgasm always push the bladder button."
That made you laugh. "Oh, of course! There's a powder room to the left past the kitchen there, remember? Hurry back, though!"
I stood and turned, then stopped and reached back with my hand. "Come with me."
You looked at me as if no one had ever asked you that before. Not a man, anyway.
"Come with me," I repeated with another Cheshire grin. "Have you ever aimed a guy's cock while he peed?"
You shook your head. "No!"
"Then I think it's time you tried." I took your hand and helped you to your feet. "It'll be fun."
Bewildered, you allowed me to lead you to the powder room. I lifted the toilet lid and seat, and took the classic stance before the bowl. I guided you to stand behind me, slightly to my right side, and brought your right arm around my waist.
"Normally, I sit down to pee," I admitted. "But there's no need to aim then. Now, take my cock in your hand, and make sure I don't splash all over!"
You began to giggle at this highly unusual situation. You grasped my soft, dangling penis in an overhand grip. "How's this?"
"No, no. Hold it as you would a fly rod," I coached, "using the thumb and forefinger as an aiming guide, and the curl of your other fingers as support." I chuckled as I added, "Just don't whip it like you would a fly rod!"
You giggled more as you followed my instructions. "Do I need to pull back your foreskin?"
"Um...no. It doesn't matter, really. It stays clear by itself. But...sure, why don't you. It might help you see what you're doing better."
You eased my foreskin back, revealing my still-slickened glans, smaller now that it was soft, but blush-red in color. Then we both looked down and waited. And waited.
"Uh...Alex? Is this the part where you do something, too?"
I shut my eyes and laughed. "I'm trying! I guess I'm a bit nervous even though I invited you here! Gimme a second!"
"Think of the ocean," you said softly into my right ear, "waves crashing upon the shoreline. A waterfall is nearby, sending a constant stream of white water down the cliffside."
You could feel my shoulders relax. "Yeah...that's working!" We both looked down again.
My penis jerked slightly, then extended a bit without getting stiff. A weak dribble of pee fell straight down from the tip, then quickly turned into a thin stream. You squealed in fascination, and moved your hand to point the stream into the center of the water in the bowl.
"Oh, this is neat! I can feel your cock vibrate as it's coming out!"
I relaxed completely as I let go all bladder muscles. The thin stream grew into a strong flow of crystal-clear piss. It had a light scent of wine with a hint of...peppermint? You laughed aloud as you got good with your aim, moving the stream around in circles as it splashed into the water.
"J...I... " you giggled as you began to move my shaft in deliberate directions, "...L...L!" You looked at me for a quick second. "Have you got enough pee left for 'Burke'?"
"Ha! We should have tried this outside in the snow," I laughed.
"This is fun," you declared! Your eyes watched intently as the stream gushed from my piss slit. As my pee subsided, you tried one last move, running the flow around the very edge of the water in the bowl. As you swung me around to the front, my bladder ran out, and the faltering stream splashed along the rim before you could aim me back to the water.
"See? Not so easy to keep from making a mess," I observed. "Now you know why I sit most of the time."
"Aww..." you pouted as my pee came to an end, the last drops falling from the tip. "Are you done already?"
"Well, you gotta shake out the stray drops," I said, "but shaking it more than three times is considered playing with it under international regulations!"
You carefully wiggled my cock, tossing a few stragglers to the water below. Then you milked at the flaccid tube, making sure the job was done. My foreskin popped over and back from the glans. You stroked along the shaft a few more times and felt me start to harden.
"Ma'am," I cautioned, "I believe you're starting to play with it at this point."
"Umm...are you getting turned on?"
"Well, yes," I confessed. "But I believe holding me while I peed has turned you on, too!" I turned toward you and ran my fingers over the erect nipples that had been grazing my back.
"I think you're right. I liked watching you pee. I loved holding you!"
I reached behind me and flushed the toilet. "I think I'm now able to keep my promise," I said before kissing you.
You kissed me back. "Yes! I want the other stuff to flow from your cock now," you replied as you felt my prick continue to stiffen against your hip. "Maybe I can write my name with it onto my tongue! 'Jill Astrid Burke'...all three names!"
I laughed once again. "I hope you mean in shorthand!"
You just smiled as you took my cock in your hand again and led me by it back to the living room.
We returned to the living room to find the fire beginning to wane. I dutifully grabbed a few pieces of split wood from the brass holder next to the hearth and stacked them onto the glowing embers of the nearly consumed logs. Renewed flames quickly raced along the edges of the fresh fuel, making the wood crackle and hiss.
I watched the firelight grow and reflect in your eyes as you took my hands and guided me to the high-backed plush chair by the comforter.
"Sit here," you said quietly. "Get comfortable."
I sat my naked body into the warm fabric of the cushioned chair, resting my forearms on the armrests and leaning back. I watched you push apart my legs and settle before me onto your knees on the comforter.
You licked your lips seductively as you gazed at my bobbing half-erect penis. You skated your hands up my thighs and took hold of my shaft, pumping the skin up and down to restore my rigidity. My cock surged with blood at your caress and quickly became fat and stiff. My entire crotch was still moist with our mingled love juices, and my glans popped wetly from beneath the foreskin with each tug.
You leaned in close, nostrils flaring, eyes concentrating, as you grasped my prick firmly and worked your grip slowly from bottom to top. My cock head flared and pulsed strongly, and my piss slit winked open to produce one last crystal drop of pee.
Impulsively, your tongue tip darted forth and swiped up the thin bubble, then you sucked at the slit with your lips for any remnants.