Chapter 3: Spiked

“Did I forget something?” Tim asked. It wasn’t their anniversary, nor was it her birthday; it wasn’t even his birthday. Yet Sally was certainly wearing a going-out-to-dinner dress.

“Nope. I just felt celebrative. Stay back!” He was approaching for a welcome-home kiss. “Go set the table.” The celebration didn’t extend to the menu, except for a tossed salad. The meat loaf, home fries, and peas were just what he’d have expected. He also would have expected a kiss, but Sally hadn’t given him any opportunity.

“Go wash your hands,” she said instead of announcing dessert. He washed them, taking the opportunity to empty his bladder, too.

“Now,” he asked when he got back to a cleared table. “What are we celebrating?” Normally, clearing the table was his responsibility. No kiss but her taking on his chore, that was both a puzzle and a contradiction.

“My temp spiked today.”

“Darling!” He took her in his arms. The kiss was sweet. He relaxed the hug when he found she was wearing no bra. He stroked her back, fondled her butt, stepped back half a pace to cup her breasts.

“See why I made you wash your hands?” He finally did, and why he got no kiss before the announcement. She neither wanted grease all over her dress nor his discovery of her braless state.

“You’re sure?” She nodded, smiling happily. “Then why don’t we... ?” She nodded again and started towards the bedroom. When she sensed he was watching her butt, she wriggled it exaggeratedly. He chuckled. When he had closed the bedroom door, she pushed his sports coat off his shoulders.

“I can get that. Why don’t you take care of your own?”

“You can get your own clothes if you want. I want your help with this.” She’d been able to get it on by herself. But he’d be glad to help. He stripped quickly and efficiently. When he turned to her, naked and with the beginning of an erection, she turned her back. The zipper of the dress was in the back, and it had a snap at the collar which he didn’t discover until the zipper was down. Her back was bare; well he shouldn’t have expected a bra strap. When he pushed the dress shoulders forward, he saw that she was wearing nothing underneath the dress.

“Just a moment. I have to hang this up.” She raised it over her head and hung it in the closet. When she turned around, he could see her in all her glory. She stepped out of her shoes and was wearing nothing at all. They kissed, and he let his hands roam. Her skin was so smooth; her breasts were so soft; her butt was so firm; her lower hair was so crinkly.

“It’s chilly like this,” she said. “Let’s get under the covers.”

“Don’t want to get cold.” He watched her get in first, pretty butt, lovely lips showing below it. When he got in, he let his feet hang over the end. That put his mouth level with her breasts, an opportunity not to be wasted. By the time his spiral around the near breast got to the nipple, it was hard to greet him.

He suckled there for a while. After all, she would need the experience. Meanwhile, he stroked the insides of her thighs. Every upward stroke stopped a little higher, but not quite there. Then she grabbed his hand and pulled it to her lower lips. He switched breasts as he rubbed those lips. As the second spiral reached her nipple, his finger reached her clit.

“Yes.”

He was silent since his mouth was full. He could feel Sally relax. That relaxation was brief, though. As his finger stroked her moisture over her clit, as his tongue circled her areola before tasting her nipple, he felt the softness of her belly harden under his forearm. That firmness deserved a tribute. He kissed a line down her breast, across her lower ribs, and towards her navel. Teasing Sally by licking there was always fun, but -- perhaps -- fun not suitable for this solemn occasion. He skirted the navel and continued downward. He paused just short of her hair to plant a smacking kiss on the skin covering her womb.