Chapter 4

Long story short: Helen moved into my condo. We had agreed to make a decision when her lease was up at the end of September. By early July we both knew it was what we wanted to do. We had hardly slept alone since that weekend at Brewer Peak, and mostly at my place. She had no trouble getting out of her lease as her landlord had been turning away tenants and was happy to offer it to some college students at higher rents. Her place came furnished so we didn’t have much in the way of furniture to move.

Now, I was sitting at the airport awaiting arrival of her flight from San Francisco. She had gone there to attend a conference for her job. I saw her flight on the arrivals board switch from On Time to Arrived, so I stood near the concourse entrance and scanned for her.

I spotted her and she broke into a sprint when she spotted me. She wore a charcoal pinstriped skirt and a white blouse and carried her matching suit jacket over her arm. I caught her in my arms and we kissed. “I missed you so much,” I said.

“I missed you, too.”

“How was your flight?”

“We left about half an hour late due to morning fog that pushed back all the flights. The pilots were able to make it up with tailwinds.”

“Let’s go get your bag.”

I dragged Helen’s checked bag to the parking lot and put it in the trunk of her Leaf. Helen sat behind the wheel and we headed toward the condo. “How did you like driving my car?” she asked.

“I like it ... it’s quiet.”

We reached my unit. Helen pressed the opener and parked beside my Honda Accord. While I removed her bags from the trunk she plugged the charging cable into the car’s nose. “I have a special dinner for you,” I said.

“Oh? What might that be?”

“Be surprised. I’m going to get the grill going.”

“I want to change these clothes.” Helen carried her luggage upstairs to the bedroom.

She returned some time later. “Sorry -- I had to unpack.”

I regarded her -- she wore running shorts and a blue tank, and I could tell she was braless. Her tank covered her firm breasts like paint. “That outfit is worth the wait,” I said.

“It’s kind of warm today. I see you have your shorts on.”

“Yeah. Dinner’s ready. I have the table set in back.”

“You know I love dining outdoors.”

I put a plate before her. “Grilled salmon. I love grilled salmon. I never would’ve thought to serve it with couscous.”

“It’s a light side for a warm day.”

“It is indeed.” I poured two glasses of pink bubbly and handed her one. “This is lovely,” she said after sipping some.

“It’s French -- a Bordeaux cremant.”

“Perfect choice. The crust on the salmon -- it’s almost like Cajun blackening. Is this your mix?”

“It’s a rub I found at that gourmet store you like.”

“It’s all wonderful. I never would’ve thought of blackened salmon. You cribbed my tomato salad. It goes together perfectly. You are a good cook, Eric.”

“Good with the grill at least,” I replied.

We finished our dinner and took our evening stroll. “How was your conference?” I asked.

“It was good. I learned a lot ... did some networking ... One of the hospitality suites was hosted by a venture-capital startup in the biotech industry. They’re located in San Francisco and are looking for staff. They invited me to send in a resume.”

“Are you going to?” I asked.

“I might, just to see...”

“San Francisco is a beautiful city,” I said. “The tech industry out there -- Google and Oracle -- have wrecked the real estate market. It’s a million for a nine-hundred square foot loft.”

“Yeah, I know...”

“What about us?” I asked. “I told you I can’t do a long-distance relationship. I want my partner under my roof ... and if not under my roof, the closer to my roof the better. Same street beats same city, same city beats same county, same county beats same state.”

“Same state beats same country?” she added.

“If it’s not at least same state, forget it.”

“Any job offers out there would have to be a package deal,” she replied, “jobs for both of us.”

“My roots are here. I’d love to visit San Francisco but I don’t think I could live there.”

“Well -- I’m under your roof and I’m staying under it -- no matter where it is.”

We returned to my unit and we went inside. “I have a surprise for you,” she said.

“Really?”

“It’s upstairs. I’ll go get it.” She headed up the stairs.

“I’ll put some music on,” I called after her.

She descended the stairs carrying a small black canister. What she wore made my jaw drop. It was a three-piece outfit, a peignoir set comprising a mid-thigh length jacket with three-quarters length sleeves and closed with a single tie. Underneath was a short babydoll style gown, the front of which was open from her sternum to her hips, and underneath that was a G-string style thong. All were made of the sheerest white fabric that concealed nothing.

“Do you like it?” she asked.

“You look sensational. Where did you find that? It’s not the sort of thing that’s off the rack at Hubbards.”

“The only hotel I could book turned out to be in the Tenderloin, although convenient by bus to the Embarcadero where the conference was held. Across the street was a twenty-four hour adult video store.”

“Across the street ... from your hotel was an adult video store?”

“That’s right.”

“That’s San Francisco for you.”

“I went in out of curiosity and spotted their collection of lingerie. A sales clerk approached me and asked what I was looking for. I was really shy at first, but as we talked she put me at ease. I told her my boyfriend likes my boobs even if I don’t. She said, if he likes ‘em then I should like ‘em ‘cuz that’s what counts. Then she took this off the rack and suggested I try it on. I went into a dressing room and tried on the gown and jacket. The clerk rapped on the door and asked how I liked it. I cracked open the door and she stepped inside. You wear that well, she said. I bought it and brought it to my room and tried it on, this time G-string and all. I looked at myself in the mirror and thought, I look pretty good. Eric is going to like this.”

“Eric loves it,” I said. I sat on the sofa and Helen sat on my lap. She placed the canister on the coffee table. “What’s that?” I asked.

“Something else from the sex shop. It’s honey dust -- honey that’s been dehydrated and then ground to a super fine powder. If you put it on dry skin, it becomes slick like talcum powder.”

“On wet skin it gets sticky,” I remarked.

“Yes but you can lick it off -- it’s sweet.” She popped open the canister and removed a feather applicator. “This is what you apply it with.”

“I know where I want to put some.” I took the canister and applicator, dipped the feathers into the powder and spread some on her thighs. “It does make your skin feel slippery,” I said as I smoothed my hands along her legs. With the feather I daubed some of the golden dust on her cheeks and lips.

“Careful -- I don’t want to inhale it,” she said.

“I’ll be careful...” I kissed her lips and then kissed the dust off her face. “It is sweet. I’ll put on weight if we use this...” I regarded her outfit and realized her gown’s bodice had no fabric covering her breasts. White satin ribbons that formed the shoulder straps also formed the outline of the bodice. “Helen -- is this a peek-a-boo gown?”

“Maybe,” she said coyly. I reached for the tie securing her peignoir jacket. “Let’s go upstairs first.”

I shut off the music, picked up the canister and followed Helen up to our bedroom, watching the backs of her sleek legs. There I quickly stripped to my briefs. She turned her back to me, untied the tie and let the sheer white jacket fall to the floor. Then she turned to face me.

Indeed the gown’s bodice was nothing but satin ribbons outlining her breasts. The cutaway front exposed her firm but soft belly with its cute navel and the sheer G-string barely covered her bush. “Man, you are gorgeous!”

“I know,” she replied. “When I looked in the mirror ... For the first time in my life -- at least, since puberty -- I liked how my boobs look.”

“I’ve been telling you -- they’re perfect for you.”

“I know you have. I believe it now.”

As usual I gently lifted her wire-frame glasses from her face and set them on the nightstand. Helen lay on our bed and I lay facing her. We kissed, her lips still sweet from the honey dust.

I reached for the canister and applied a liberal coating of honey dust to her nipples and areolas. Then I began fondling her breasts, her skin lubricated by the fine dust.

“This feels really good,” she whispered. “Deeper?”

I applied more dust and squeezed her breasts firmly from front to back and pinching her nipples. “This dust eliminates friction so I can use a heavier hand,” I remarked. “Maybe we should try some hand lotion sometime.”

“Mmm ... sometime ... Oh, God, this feels good. Just this for a while?”

“For as long as you want. I can’t believe how beautiful you look in that gown.”

“I can’t, either,” she replied.

I leaned over her and began kissing and licking the sweet golden powder from her breasts. When I kissed her right nipple Helen rolled onto her side and held my head, pressing my face into her breast. “Nurse,” she said and I began sucking on her nipple. “Take more of me in to your mouth and nurse.”

I drew as much of her breast into my mouth as I could and massaged her nipple and areola against the roof of my mouth. Helen pressed and rubbed her mons against my hip. “Feels good,” she gasped. “I can feel it in my womb ... Other side.”

She released her grip on my head and rolled onto her back. I licked more dust from her areola, drew it into my mouth and nursed. I could feel her heart pounding. With my left hand I fondled her right nipple, still slick with my saliva; and with my right hand I caressed her mons and labia through the fabric of her G-string.

Her heartbeats grew more rapid and her breathing became panting. “Stop,” she said and I lifted my face from her breast. She caressed my cheeks. “I almost came,” she said as she caught her breath. “I was almost there but it slipped away from me.”

Grasping the waistband of her G-string I began to slide it down. Helen lifted her hips and once clear of them I slid it off her long legs. With the feather I began applying more honey dust to the insides of her thighs. “You’re not putting that on my pussy, are you?”

“No -- I don’t think that would be smart.”

Lying between her legs I kissed and licked the dust from her thighs, starting at her knees and moving up, alternating from left to right. I reached her vulva and covered her mons and labia with kisses. “What are you in the mood for tonight?” I asked. “Fingers or tongue?”

“Oh, a hard choice. I love it when you do oral on me. I also love it when you look into my eyes and we kiss while I’m climaxing.” She bit her lip and rolled her eyes in thought. “Fingers.”

“Fingers it is.” I adjusted her posture so she was lying halfway on her right side with her left leg bent and her thighs open. I lay beside her, my arm around her so I could press my fingers against her left nipple. With my right hand I stroked her pussy, working my finger into her slit. Lubing it with her hot juices I found her firmly engorged glans and began stroking it.

Helen quickly achieved a string of powerful orgasms that left her flushed, panting and perspiring. I pet her pussy with the backs of my fingers to bring her down gently and watched her ribs heave as her breathing returned to normal. “Good one?” I asked.