“Girls,” Pat called up the stairs, “hurry up, or you’ll be late for practice.” Ginnie clattered down almost immediately. Once seated at the table, she splashed milk onto her cereal and started to gobble it up. Trish, who felt that 16 was too old to clatter — or, for that matter, to obey her mother’s orders — followed two minutes later. She, however, poured her milk cleanly without a drop hitting the table.
Hearing Dan on the stairs, Pat poured his coffee.
“Bless you,” he said when she handed it to him. He handed back an empty cup before sitting down. She poured him a second before sitting to finish her own cereal. Dan didn’t eat breakfast on Saturdays; coffee was enough for him.
Two “‘Bye, mom’s” and Dan’s “Love you” and kiss later, Pat was alone. She sipped her coffee while enjoying the peace. Then she cleaned up the kitchen table, rinsed the dishes, and put them in the dishwasher. She went back upstairs, carrying a kitchen timer. She inserted her diaphragm, stripped off robe and nightgown, and was lying back in bed under the covers when she heard Dan return.
He shaved and stripped in the bathroom. When he came in, he dived under the covers. She turned on her arm to kiss him.
“Not all that cold,” she noted approvingly.
“I used a hot washcloth on my face and hot water on my hands.” He touched her shoulder. She moved her hands down his arm to his hand.
“Okay.” He drew his hand up her arm to her shoulder. Then it caressed down to her breast. She caught the sheet and pulled the covers over them. His hand was still a little chilly. Maybe that was why her nipple responded so rapidly.
“You’re still a sexy lady.”
“I have a sexy husband.” And he was sexy. Wherever his desire came from (and the forward on Trish’s team was a very hot senior), he’d brought it home to her. As she turned towards him, he trailed his fingers — warmer now, or maybe her bottom was less sensitive — along her bottom. “I love your fingers.” This was the only time in the week they could talk.
“I love your ass.”
She fell back but raised and spread her knees. His hand flowed down the outside of her thigh to the knee. As it stroked back up the top of her thigh, his kisses trailed down her throat. He kissed a trail up the breast towards the peak. When he passed his hand between her legs, she rolled towards him enough for him to get a grip on one buttock.
“I really love your ass,” he said before he filled his mouth with the tip of her breast. His tongue licked her nipple as he clenched and relaxed his hand on her bottom. Her fingers combed the hair on his chest as her passion rose. When she wanted more direct stimulation, she started tickling his nipples. “Pat,” he said. He let go of her bottom to trail his fingers across the bottom of her delta. Soon, one finger parted her labia to stroke her moisture up towards, but short of, her clit. He repeated the stroke, sometimes getting nearer, never reaching it. She needed the touch, but — she realized — she needed the teasing, too. Finally, her patience wore out.
His next stroke reached the clit, and she felt the heat rush through her torso. The heat from the next strokes went further, soon reaching fingers and toes. She was no longer cold, was so hot that she’d have thrown off the covers if she weren’t too busy simply feeling. Though his hand kept the same slow — too slow, she now thought — pace, the heat throbbed within her more and more rapidly. Finally, she couldn’t take this, either.
“Dan!” She reached down his torso to her rescue from this teasing. She felt it fat in the fingers of both hands. Then, when he started to move above her, she stretched her right leg down flat and held it hard in her right hand. Her left hand replaced his on her labia.
“Put it in,” he said. She spread the lips with her left fingers while she placed it between them with her right. “Yes,” Dan said as he drove into her. He stayed there, pressed deep for one instant. “So wet, so warm, so soft.”
“So hot,” she responded, “so hard.” She tightened around it to feel the firmness deep within herself. Dan drove in and out. Her feelings, high and hot already, spiraled upward. Suddenly, she broke through. Her mind was flooded with light. Her body was flooded with heat. She felt herself clutch around him again and again.
“God!” Dan yelled. She could feel him pulsing within her softer quivers. He strained above her, and then collapsed. She clasped him in her arms. She could hear his gasps, maybe her own. “You,” he said when he rolled them onto their sides, “are the greatest.”
“No,” she said, “you are.” She was finally cooling, and she freed one arm to rearrange the covers.
They cuddled together until the timer rang. Dan had the delivery; she had the pickup. She douched, not wanting Dan oozing into her panties while the girls were in the car. She showered and dressed. Then, downstairs, she was careful to wear a scarf and a warm parka. Before she got to the field, the heater had warmed the car. Between that and her own acclimation, she was warm enough to open the parka.
Several cars had got there before her, but no players were visible yet. When she saw the first of the high-school team, she shifted over in the seat. Trish got in the driver’s seat.
“Hi, mom.” Well, it was better than nothing. It wasn’t really a ‘thank you.’
“Hi yourself. How did it go?”
“Practice. How could practice go: I got four goals. Tremendous in a game. What it means in practice is that Helen’s off her game.” Helen was the team goalie. One part of practice was giving all the other players shots on goal. “Where’s Ginnie?” She reached for the key.
“Turn that on, and you’ll not touch it for a month.”
“You protect her so. It wouldn’t hurt her to walk home once. It would teach her to be on time.”
“I can remember when your eyes were blue.” Instead of the green-eyed monster she was embodying now. Trish huffed but didn’t say anything. Then they both spotted Ginnie. She ran to the car, having recovered from two hours of practice in a few minutes. She clambered in the back and attached her belt.