Chapter 46

Macy and John watched the couple walk off in the gently falling snow together from the big round window in John’s office. “They’re headed toward Worzil’s” said John, “we may not see them for the rest of the night.”

“Worzil’s is closing at ten tonight darling, they will have time for one hot toddy, and they will be right back here,” the office was suddenly plunged into darkness as Macy turned off the only light that was on. Now the only source of light was the Christmas lights encircling the window outside, and the muted lights from the village.

John walked over to where his wife was last and found the green dress with the white lace was empty and draped over the back of a chair, along with her panties and stockings. “You better hurry and find me before they get back mon amour!” called his naked wife from the darkness.

His beloved wife had removed the only white on her body and slipped into the storage area of the attic, where she awaited her husband naked. “Challenge accepted,” he said softly.

Macy crept on her hands and knees through the stacks of boxes in Paul’s attic. It was pitch black in there and she was completely naked. She reflected on all the twists and turns her life has taken to get her to this point. Born of Nigerian descent, Marie-Claude Solange Dagenais’ slim figure, striking features and coal black skin, got her early jobs in modeling and she made enough money to leave her family’s world in a small Quebec fishing village behind, to strike out on her own, eventually and inexplicably winding up in the seminary.

She loves God, and she loved theological academia and when given the chance to pastor her own church, she turned it down for a teaching job at the École de théologie évangélique du Québec, the leading evangelical seminary at the time in Quebec. She loved preparing young women for a life leading a church, then she met John, who exploded that life.

Now here she was crawling through her brother-in-law’s attic, naked, waiting for her husband to pounce. Having quietly shed her dress, panties, and shoes from the wedding in Paul’s third floor office, she silently crept into the storage room that takes up half of the third floor. It once was a bedroom, so instead of being dusty with open flooring like other attics she has seen, this one was finished with wall to wall carpeting. Boxes were stacked neatly but in groups that make sense to Paul, and probably no one else on earth, making various aisles and alleys to hide in. The twins are going to love this when they discover it; she thought. But being so distracted, she didn’t notice what was behind her.

Macy crawled stealthily between the stacks of boxes in the storage section of Paul’s attic. She was completely naked, having left her dress and underwear in Paul’s office with John. Her husband was now probably following, erect, ready to grab her and fuck her. Not that she wasn’t inviting this response from John, but she wants to play.

Suddenly, her eyes and mouth opened in shock as two unseen fingers entered her moist pussy. She knew she had to roll to the side or pull away, but every muscle and nerve in her lithe body wanted to push back against those fingers, to drive them deeper. Her nipples suddenly grew hard as pebbles and clamored for attention, and she fought with every fiber of her will to keep from pinching her nipples. With a frustrated whimper she pulled forward, freeing herself from his fingers, then before he could get a grip she rolled to the side, ducked between rows of boxes and tucked up in the darkest of corners. He passed by her without noticing his beautiful black wife in the dark.

She rolled over on her back and touched herself, mon Deiu was she wet! She licked a damp finger and smiled, her arôme was delicious, but it was missing something ... the flavor of her husband. Sadly, it took her and John nearly a decade to learn the ways of erotic love; she had such a horrible initiation at too young an age. But John was patient and loving and now she’s getting ready for sex in someone else’s attic. The thought made her grin in anticipation. She sat up and looked around. She couldn’t see anything. This back corner of the attic room was pitch black. There was no light of any kind. Her sense of sight was lost. She paused; did she hear a board squeak? Was that a gentle scuff of a foot on a rug?

She could hear herself breathing, so she held her breath and eased back quietly and bumped into ... her husband. Damnit. She shot forward as fast as her long lithe limbs could propel her and he grabbed at her in surprise himself, his hands sliding off her warm skin. As quiet as possible, she scooted around a stack of boxes, but he was on her trail. She scampered down the row of boxes until she came to the end of the row and realized it was a dead end. As silently as possible, she climbed up on top of the boxes and lay there as silent as death. She heard him discover the dead end by the way the sounds of his searching became confused. She heard his hands sliding along the boxes as he went back up the row.

She waited as long as she dared, then she silently lowered herself down and the hunter became the hunted. She started up the row of boxes after him. She continued up the aisle when she realized that the sound of her prey was behind her. How could he have turned the tables so quickly? She leapt forward, but a warm white hand closed around her slim black ankle and she came to a bone jarring halt. “Non!” she squealed, but she quickly covered her mouth with her hand, afraid of waking the twins.

The search was over, but the game was still on.

She was dragged backwards, out of the narrow aisle of boxes, trying not to laugh aloud. He was trying to flip her over, but she was able to spread her legs out to prevent that. He wrapped one of his legs around hers and grabbed both wrists and brought them together. Crossing her wrists, he was able to grasp both of her wrists with one hand over her head, which freed one of his hands to explore, caress, and tickle.

Rocking side to side, she was able to fend off his tickling attacks, but she could feel his erect cock rubbing against her thigh, which was almost as much a distraction as his fingers. Her wrestling became frantic until a finger of his free hand touched her exposed anus and circled it. This felt better than she expected, but in 10 years of marriage he never asked, never tried to go there. The circling finger felt delightful, but then it slid into her ass up to the second knuckle.