Chapter 9

I lick, suck, tongue, and nibble my way to giving her a nice leg quivering, body rocking, wet orgasm right here on my kitchen countertop. When she recovers, she yanks me to her, kissing me profusely, paying no mind to the slippery wetness glazing my face.

“We’re not done yet,” she tells me, “I’m having your sweet cream one more time.”

Sitting me in a chair, she yanks my shorts down, drops to her knees, and immediately stuffs my breakfast sausage all the way into her mouth. Talk about a vigorous sucking to ensue, she soon has me ejaculating multiple milky streams. She hungrily takes every drop and savors my flavors for several moments. With a giggle, she swallows. “There, now I can take some of you home with me.”

“Yeah, I guess you can!” I laugh.

Up in the bedroom, she’s gathering her clothes and I find a pair of her panties on the floor. Lifting them to my nose, I enjoy the sweet scents of her pussy. “Can I keep these?” I ask.

She looks over and grins, “Sure!” Reaching down she picks up a pair of my used underwear and presses the frontside to her nose inhaling. “Can I keep these?”

“Sure!”

Two weeks till I can be with Heather again. We video chat on the phone every evening and often set up the cameras aimed between our legs while we touch ourselves. It’s actually kind of fun in its own way, each masturbating while watching the other – although we both miss the warmth, scents, and tastes of each other’s sex.

A week before I’m to drive to Chicago, Heather calls and asks if we can change our plans. A work associate of hers owns a cool beach house on Lake Michigan just north of Benton Harbor. She asks if I would like to spend next weekend there swimming and relaxing instead of going to Chicago. Sounds good to me.

The week passes and the day arrives that I make the drive to the beach house. I find the address and pull into the long brick paved driveway to park; Heather’s car is already here. I grab my duffle bag with a couple of days’ change of clothes and head to the house.

It’s a nice place, a very cozy-looking summer house. It’s not exactly a mansion, but I’m sure it’s not cheap either. As with most beach houses, there are plenty of full-sized windows to view the water. The properties along the shore here are somewhat large so the neighbors aren’t too close. Some lakefront communities are piled on top of one another with hardly any room to move. I wouldn’t like that, I don’t want to look out my kitchen window and feel like I’m also in my neighbor’s bathroom.

The door opens and Heather runs out to greet me. We hug and kiss, and kiss and hug; it’s great to hold her again.

Taking my arm, she excitedly says, “Let me give you a quick tour.” She shows me the patio deck facing the lake with a very inviting hot tub off to one corner, a firepit area surrounded by chairs, then we walk along a path to the sandy beach and watch the waves roll in. I put my hand in the water to see if it’s warm enough to swim, it is. Back in the house, she shows me the living room, dining area, and kitchen.

“How’s the bedroom?” I ask with a wink.

“I saved that for last, but I must blindfold you first and lead you in because it’s a surprise.”

“Okay.” It must be some sort of super bedroom to warrant all this build-up. Heather ties a soft black scarf around my head so I can’t see a thing. Taking my hand, she leads me to the bedroom.

“Okay, behind you is the bed. I want you to sit down and lie back. It’s a great big, huge bed and I want you right smack-dab in the middle. I’ll help you scoot in.” Oh boy, this must be some surprise, I’m giddy with excitement. Once she has my body situated, she tells me, “Lie just like that for a minute and I’ll be right back to take the blindfold off. Okay?”

“Sure thing,” I give a thumbs up.

I can hear her moving around as she’s doing something, but I have no idea what. Maybe she bought some sexy lingerie and she’s putting it on for me? That’s gotta be it.

More movement in the room, then I feel the mattress wiggle a little bit as she climbs up. I can tell it’s a quality mattress because when you move around, it doesn’t shake as much as a typical mattress.

I swear I hear some faint whisperings, but it must be Heather thinking out loud to herself, she does that sometimes. “Okay,” she announces, “I’m almost ready to reveal your surprise, but I need you to remember something first.”

“Okay ... but just so you know, this suspense is killing me!”

“I know, and that’s going to make this all the better, trust me!”

“I don’t doubt you.”

“Think back,” she says, “do you remember when we ran into each other at Lorna’s?”

“Yes, how could I forget?”

“Do you remember everything we talked about?”

“Sure ... I think so.”

“Do you remember when we talked about crazy sex fantasies?”

“Absolutely! That’s why I set up that day for you with my friends.” Why is she quizzing me on this like it happened long ago?

“Yes, you did, and I loved every second of it. But we talked about something else too, do you remember?”

Hmmm ... okay, now I’m stumped. I know we talked about a lot of regular stuff, memories from school, people we knew, she complimented me, I complimented her, I picked up that she might be interested in sex, then we agreed to get together for dinner at my house the next day—