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Je veux être la fille avec la plupart de gâteau. Regardez-moi dans la glace.

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15 December 2005

 

Snow Day

Viviane kissed me goodbye, saying, “See you tonight, dear.”

I’d arrived last night and we’d had dinner, wine and, um, conversation until very late. Now I turned the key to Jefferson’s apartment which would be empty for a couple of hours while he took the kids to school. Time enough for me to shower and unpack.

I rolled my small suitcase to the bedroom and unzipped it. There was the drawer, cleared of t-shirts in preparation, and several empty hangers in the closet. I put my things in order, set the bag behind the chair by the window, undressed and took my bag of ablutions into the bathroom.

I toweled off after my shower and walked naked and steaming to the living room.

Standing in the middle of the floor I smiled. There was the coffee table, stacked with books and journals, atop which floated Lillie’s latest art project, a photo of her, a Scholastic Book Club order form. Here are the plants brought in from the terrace where I’d watered them in July.

I walked over to the window and looked down at the street. It was still snowing and people were bundled; sidestepping puddles and lakes of slush in the crosswalks.

My breath fogged up the glass. I shivered. I went back to the bedroom, put on my pajamas(yes, I know), and got under the covers. I dozed off, which is so easy for me to do here.

Until a chilly body slid under the covers and nestled up to me.

I smiled and rolled to face him. My arms went around him and he pulled me close.

“Hey, baby…” I whispered.
“Welcome back, honey. God, I've missed you. What’s this...Jammies?!”

I laughed, “Aren’t they sexy?”
“They’re actually pretty hot,” he took a cuff between his fingers.

I’m not a bedtime pajama girl, but I love lounging around in the winter wearing men’s style pajamas. These are white cotton sateen. If they were sheets they’d be, like 800 threadcount. They feel like fucking butter.

Jefferson pushed the hair out of my face and smiled when it fell right back over my left eye.

“How were the conferences?”

“I was distracted. I kept thinking about getting home and seeing you.”

“But you did pay attention, right?”

“Yes. Never fear, my children are all doing just fine in school.”

“Is Lillie adjusting well to the first grade?”

“That girl is too smart for her own damn good. And she likes to talk, like someone else I know. Now, be quiet and kiss me.”

I smiled and offered my face to him. Arms and legs and lips and tongues all tangled together. Soon my pj bottoms were around my ankles and we were both trying to kick them off as our fingers worked to unbutton the top.

He parted the front, exposing my breasts. He smiled, inhaled and took the right one in his mouth, sucking and twisting the nipple as his head circled over the pale skin, scratching it with his stubble, turning it pink.

My back arched as he found a spot and latched on; my thigh pressed up and found his cock hard between our bodies. I ground my leg into him as he bit down on my nipple, my hands moving around to his back, his ass.

It was so quiet I could almost hear the big fat snowflakes blanketing the trees and sidewalks. I smiled, pulling my lover close, smelling his neck, letting him rock me in his arms. His eyes were closed and he brought his forehead to mine.

Someone whispered, “I love you.”

His wrapped cock pressed into my cunt slowly. We did that simultaneous gasping thing and his cock moved in me. We started slowly, rocking back and forth, my hips rising to meet his. Eventually we were moving in and out in circles and in waves. The whole thing was like a symphony, each movement with its own character and pace.

My knees were pushed back to my chest or slung over his shoulders, my ankles crossed behind him. Our faces were close, chests rising against one another when we came to a quiet spot.

It was late morning and the giant snowflakes had stopped falling. Our bodies were slick, the sounds of our breathing punctuated with my sighs.

I thought, ‘How lucky we are that we can do this, when other people are avoiding eye contact with their bosses and praying for the week to end.’

We were warm, sated, naked and wrapped around each other while outside New Yorkers turned their heads down and their collars up against the wind whipping around the street corners of Manhattan.




3 Comments:

Blogger Alex said...

I wrote out Suzanne's Christmas card today, realised I'd got huge amounts to say and ended up filling two A4 sheets and stuffing these into the envelope with the card. One of the key things was just how much I look forward to coming home from the moment I leave for work.

I know what you mean about PJs, Suze resorts to them in the coldest months, but they are a bugger to remove in the heat of passion lol.

Nice picture too.

12/15/2005  
Blogger Jay said...

hot story

12/15/2005  
Anonymous Hotspur said...

I love the transition from the last post describing wanton passion and this one describing intimate passion.

12/16/2005  

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