Day One, Morning
More precisely, it shattered. The sun tried to climb above the horizon and there were a few reddish rays. Then the scattered clouds moved in, pummeling them to pieces. Occasionally a shaft of light escaped, but eventually the grey won, ensuring the overcast weather so confidently predicted by forecasters the night before.
Dave sipped his coffee on the porch, silently watching. He was rarely up this early, but it felt good. He'd soon return to the slumbering house behind him and join Jennifer in bed, but this was contemplative time. Alone time. Something he'd not get much of in the next three days. Road tripping to Santa Fe—him, Will, Jen, and Jennifer. Dave was forced to smile at the irony. Such a road trip would have been unthinkable just a few months ago.
They were now so significant in his life. Two redheaded women with similar figures and the same first name. At least he'd never called Jennifer "Jen", though he'd had some tongue fumbles on occasion. True, he'd known Jen since she'd started dating Will two years ago, but they'd never really hung out as much until Jennifer joined them. He had been Will's "guys night out," not part of a second couple. Even when he was married to Claire.
Claire. Somewhere she was getting re-married soon, if she hadn't done so already. It didn't hurt the way it used to. While his stomach still tightened as the thought of her infidelity flittered through his mind, he was now able to dismiss it and his gut relaxed in turn. That was the past and this was now. Jennifer was a much better fit for him, and he was an order of magnitude happier.
Happiness. What a strange, elusive, indefinable concept. Had he been happy with Claire? Yes, as best he knew how, he supposed. They'd had fun at times and lacked friction in the little interactions of daily life. The sex had been pleasurable and regular with the occasional variant thrown in for spice. Then she'd left him and it felt like he'd died. He'd spent most of a year realizing that no matter how smart he was and how successful in business he was and how nice he'd been, it hadn't been enough. She'd still grown distant, and then turned for comfort somewhere else. He'd been like a turn of the century pedestrian, trying to describe the horseless carriage that had run him down. That year had been hard.
But Will and Jen had been there for him, in his darkness. And then Jennifer, who lit up his world every time she smiled. Was this happiness? It was deeper than anything he'd felt before. More open, with all the accompanying vulnerability. More pleasurable, in both the simple ways and the fantastic. More passionate, both in the lovemaking with Jennifer and in all sensuous activity. Like sipping coffee. And watching the sun try to rise.
Speaking of coffee, his mug was empty. With a last deep inhale of the morning air, Dave went back inside.
He found Jen in the kitchen, sitting on a barstool, idly swinging one leg, reading a book. She was wearing her short green silk robe, which had ridden up exposing most of her thigh and just barely covering her more womanly charms. Dave grinned to himself. It wasn't as much fun to look when Jen wasn't deliberately showing off, but it was still a delightful sight.
Jen looked up and smiled at Dave as he refilled his mug. She pushed hers towards him and he refreshed it as well.
"You're up early," she said, setting her book aside and then grasping her mug with both hands, taking small sips.
Dave shrugged. "Sometimes I just wake up for no apparent reason. If I feel rested, I get up. I kind of like it when it's quiet."
Jen nodded. "I'm usually up early too. If it's a lot earlier than when Will usually gets up, I read. If not, I wake him up." She had a salacious grin with that last comment and Dave had no problems imagining how she woke Will up.
"So what are you reading?"
"Callahan's Lady, by Spider Robinson. Will loaned it to me. It's set in the best brothel in New York City. Will says that if Lady Sally's really existed, he'd never leave."
"That's pretty high praise. What do you think of it?"
"I like it. I find the characters a little too perfect, but that's what makes it fiction. I really like the central tenet though."
"Which is... ?"
"Sex as Art. The brothel employees are referred to as 'Artists' with 'studios' where they entertain 'clients.'"
Dave chuckled. "You'd probably make a great artist!"
"Yes, I would!" Jen looked insufferably smug with herself, leading Dave to laugh even harder. Jen broke into a broad smile in response and they settled into a warm silence. It was interrupted by sounds of motion from the guest room.
"Will's awake!" Jen exclaimed, eyes twinkling. "Time for some Art!" She slid off the stool and scampered towards the hall.
Dave just chuckled at her eagerness. Slowly, he drained the last of his coffee, savoring the last drops, and then headed upstairs.
Jennifer was sleeping softly on her side, the sheets having dropped below her breasts. Dave just paused, admiring. Her slow breath was peaceful, almost serene. She seemed to be dreaming, and the rolled a little, shifting partially onto her back.
That offered opportunities.
Slowly, Dave tugged the sheets lower. Then he gently climbed on the bed and rolled them all the way off, revealing Jennifer's nude figure. He caught his breath at the sight. She was so beautiful. Careful not to disturb the mattress much, he positioned himself at her feet. She stirred as he rolled her hips so that she was fully supine.
Edging forward, he leaned and lightly kissed the top of her mound. Then the inside of each thigh. Jennifer stirred some more and Dave began to scatter kisses throughout her nether region. Sometime in the midst of it, Jennifer awoke enough to reach her hands down, touching his head, though not opening her eyes. Dave took that as a sign that he could begin in earnest. He paused, and then began one long wet lick, up between her labia and ending at her clit. Jennifer shuddered. Dave grinned and began to dine.
There was little finesse, this time. He alternated between sliding his tongue along her inner lips, occasionally probing inside, and wrapping his lips and tongue around her clit, flicking it and sucking lightly. As her juices began to flow, he brought his hands into play, firmly caressing and spreading her labia, then sliding one finger in. He had to shift forward so that he could rotate his hand to caress her g-spot while he continued to suckle her clit.
Jennifer moaned, obviously now fully awake. He looked up, hoping to catch her eyes, but her head was tilted back as she just enjoyed the sensations. Dave paused, taking a quick opportunity to cover her mons and thighs with wet kisses, before returning to her treasures. Jennifer seemed to catch her breath too, before settling into her familiar pattern of aroused openness. Dave knew she was ready for him to take her all the way to climax.
So he began. Gently and steadily—licking, caressing, lightly kissing. Slowly, very slowly, increasing the speed and pressure. No faster than her breathing increased, really. This time, Jennifer seemed to gasp loudest to his up-licks, against the underside of her clit. He kept at it. She began to flush and moan and Dave increased a tempo. Her moans turned to gasps and he licked and caressed and slid his finger in and out. She was starting to shudder and Dave's pace increased again—tongue moving fast, sometimes sliding askew but always quick to return. Finger, now fingers, pumping, sliding, caressing. He gave long licks and quicker flicks and suction and again went a step faster. She was starting to breathe harder and so Dave began to lick more, kiss more, stroke more and...
Jennifer gasped, arched her back, and then collapsed back on the bed. The flush began to spread across her chest and the lopsided grin appeared. Dave's own goofy smile joined hers. He rested, basking in her afterglow.
After floating down, Jennifer murmured, "my turn" and Dave pulled himself up into position. Jennifer held his shaft lightly as he got his balance. Then he was inside.
She wrapped her arms around him, and then hooked her ankles around his legs, pulling him in tight to her. Since it gave him less room for thrusting, he started a slow gentle rhythm. Jennifer's lips found his own and they began to kiss—warm rather than hot. Affectionate rather than raw passion. There was no time passing. Just the caress and constant touch of skin upon skin with the slow and steady motion of his body within hers.
Sounds at the periphery intruded into their interlocked little bubble of a world. Slowly they filtered though and became recognizable. From downstairs—Jen's passionate cries. Dave paused in the kissing, smiling. Hadn't they done this before? Both couples enjoying a morning's passion? Jennifer smiled, apparently sharing the thought.
"I want to feel you come," she whispered, before kissing him again.
He speeded up and she rolled her hips to give him deeper penetration. Soon they both began to breathe raggedly and she got her wish. A few last powerful thrusts and then spurts, and Dave collapsed on top of her. Jennifer hugged him tight, and then they lay still. He slowly shrank inside her and then slipped out while they listened to Jen's sounds peak, and then fade.
Jennifer slid her arms behind Dave's shoulders and gave him a big kiss. "Shower?" she asked.
Dave murmured agreement and they began moving towards the bathroom. The day had begun.
Day One, Afternoon
Walsenburg had been a bust.
.... There is more of this story ...