The house was dark, cool and quiet. The fridge door made that ripping sound that you can only hear in the middle of the night, as the magnetic strip pulled away from the metal.
My hand hovered inside, unable to choose between the cold chicken wings, and the leftover chocolate pudding, clearly equally appropriate midnight food, and then I heard a noise behind me, and slowly turned, just in time to see the angel land.
Well, not land exactly. More 'appear'. In the hallway. A vision of loveliness in blue, standing on the smooth wooden boards, barely lit by the light from the fridge, and the pale yellow gleam from the lamp outside the front door.
A healthily rounded woman, dressed only in a thin wedgewood blue nightie, her covering translucent, almost glowing, as though the light were desperate to show her off as best it could.
The nightie barely covered her decently around the thighs, and I could see dimly a dark thatch triangle through the clinging cloth, and a pair of cool erect nipples thrusting from the small firm breasts.
Her smile shone too, love and desire in her lips, and her eyes.
"Mike, what the Hell are you doing?"
Oh yeah, she's not that kind of angel. This is my wife. Five years, and I can't imagine existing without her.
"Sorry Linda. I didn't mean to wake you. I was just a little peckish."
"You can't eat that stuff Mike. What about a piece of fruit?"
"Fruit? At midnight? You can't be serious."
"Oh, I can." And she moved to the fridge, intending to find something more healthy for me to eat. I quickly closed the door, and stood in the way. The light level dropped even more. "Mark, come on, let me in there."
"Not a hope. I don't want anything now. I've changed my mind."
And still with a smile on her face: "Well then, you have to pay a toll for waking me."
"What sort of toll?"
"A lip kind of toll."
So I put my arms out, and took my angel in my arms. Holding her close in her thin nightie, I could feel all her wonderful curves as though she were naked. Our lips locked together, hands wandering freely over both our bodies.
Before I noticed, Linda had undone my dressing gown, and it fell to the floor around my feet. I pulled her hard to me and lifted her gently from the floor. She wrapped her legs around my waist, my hands on her bare bum, holding her up, and we stumbled like some mutant animal to the table, a big old solid teak slab atop eight rough legs.
I lowered her bare bottom gently to the cool surface, and relaxed her body back on the table, grabbing a cushion from one of the chairs to rest her head. She was supported to the knees by the table now, her nightie hiked up to just below her breasts, her skin a deliciously bronzed shimmer in the low light, knees slightly apart, her most intimate parts fearlessly displayed.
Returning my lips to hers briefly, I began a silent exploration of her warmth, travelling erratically downward, pausing to inspect her neck, thinly covered erect breasts, her smooth belly. Have you ever noticed how attractive a woman's stomach is in this position? Smooth and taut. Truly angelic. Linda has a ticklish navel but finds it arousing as well, so I had to time my tongue caresses carefully, listening to her body's demands.
Slowly but surely I neared my goal, amidst the dark thatch near the edge of the table, and my tongue slid lightly over the sturdy coiled hairs and down between, like passing through the gate to a forbidden city. Feeling moisture and slipperiness on my tongue now, I explored all around ground zero, running my tongue in and out of her tender areas, my hands now reaching up and caressing her nipples, dragging the thin blue cloth over them, applying friction in a cruel-but-oh-so-nice way she loved.
I could feel her body's level of arousal rising with my ministrations, and concentrated my attack on the city, flicking delicately but deeply within the tender folds of skin, edging nearer the pleasure centre.
.... There is more of this story ...