Chapter 33: Let’s Go to Bed

Waiting in the living room while she got ready, made me jittery as all hell. I needed something to help calm my nerves, so I raided Vicky’s drinks cabinet for her peach schnapps. I’d only ever had it once before, but it was Vicky’s favourite so it couldn’t be that bad. I poured two small glasses, with ice, left one of them and the bottle on the coffee table and then sat on the sofa with my drink in one hand and the television remote in the other.

I flicked through the countless satellite stations, starting from BBC One and going all the way up through the EPG. Nothing held my attention for longer than a few seconds, not even when I got to the various free to air adult channels where some girl gyrates on a foam mattress while talking to some punter on the phone who’s paying through the nose for the privilege. In the end, I reverted to BBC News and zoned out.

What was taking her so long? Or was it long? I had no idea. My perception of time was all messed up and I could have been sitting there for minutes, hours or days and not known the difference.

I didn’t even realise I’d finished my drink until my glass was empty. I sighed and I stood to pour myself another. I had my back to the door when the softest voice imaginable said, “Paul?”

I turned and gasped, nearly dropping the bottle. Clarissa leaned against the door frame, her arm raised above her head and one leg bent at the knee. She wore a mid-thigh length, Valentine Red, kimono-style robe, tied with a sash around her waist. Her legs were bare, but she wore the same red heels that she had to the Halloween Ball—at least, I think they were the same.

“You like?” she asked.

I nodded, not wanting to risk speaking for fear of what kind of garbled sound I’d be able to produce.

“I thought you would.” She pushed herself off the door frame and slowly walked towards me, one foot stepping directly in front of the other which had the effect of exaggerating the swing in her hips. She stopped just out of my reach and gently tugged at the bow in the belt which held the robe closed. It undid easily, letting the two sides of the kimono fall open to reveal that underneath she wore a slinky night dress, also vivid Valentine’s red, with a strip of lace at the short hem and low-cut neckline.

I took a deep breath and said, “You’re beautiful.”

She smiled, tilted her head down demurely, almost submissively, then lifted her eyes and said quietly, “Thank you.”

I put the bottle down, picked up her glass and held it out to her. She took it, sniffed the fragrant liqueur with her eyes closed and then downed it. She held the empty glass out for me and after I took it she moved her hand closer to mine, waiting for me to take it and said, “Let’s go to bed, Paul.”

She led me upstairs, to my room, where she’d already turned back the bed covers and laid out my pyjama bottoms at the end (I usually sleep naked from the waist up, it’s just more comfortable). While she shrugged off the robe and climbed in bed to watch, I undressed. I’d like to say I gave her a show, but I didn’t think of that. Nor did I feel any real embarrassment at undressing in front of her for the first time. Instead, I simply took off my clothes as I would if I were alone. I did notice Clarissa’s eyes widen and hear her take a sharp intake of breath when I pushed my jeans and boxers to the floor and stepped out of them. I wasn’t exactly flaccid at this point, but neither was I at full mast and besides, it’s not like she hadn’t seen it (and more) before.

She held the duvet up for me slip under it next to her and then wrapped it over me. She kissed me, just a small peck, and then turned her back, pulling my arm with her so that I spooned up behind her. She kissed my hand and said, “I love you.”

I kissed the back of her head and said, “Love you too.”

“Night.”

“Night.”

We lay like that for what seemed like forever, yet also just mere seconds. My cock had swollen to full hardness shortly after my body moulded against Clarissa’s and it stayed that way, nestled against her rump. Several times Clarissa audibly sighed and pushed her arse back against me, adding ever more strength to my erection. After the third time, I pulled my hand from her grip, placed it on her hip and held her steady as I ground myself against her.

It was instinct, nothing more. She rubbed against me, I rubbed back. Her satin nightdress felt nice in my hands but, again on instinct, I moved my hand lower until I felt her smooth skin, then slid it back up, pushing the fabric out of the way as I did so. It was only then that I discovered she wasn’t wearing panties.

She sighed again, then pulled my hand around to her front until I felt her fuzzy pubic hair. Then she reached back, slipped her hand between us and rubbed my cock through my pyjamas. I pushed through her hair until I reached the warmth of her feminine folds and dipped a finger into her slit, making her gasp.