Honey In A JarbyHeathen Hemmingway©
This story is an 'unofficial tie in' to another one of my works. You might even recognize the movie and the song that appears in the other story. My critics seem to enjoy picking me apart for my rather old fashioned views on love, sex, and d/s. That's ok by me. I can write faster than they can. Thanks for reading.
The night before was still floating lazily in my daydreams. We had been intimate for the first time, touched each other as lovers and discovered the hidden joys of one another. We were in her apartment in town. We sat and watched Nine And A Half Weeks after a take out dinner. Each moment that passed I was less attentive to the movie and more absorbed by her. Her hair was warm and soft against my shoulder. My arm was around her. I could feel her body move lightly with its own internal grace. She was wearing a black floral print silk blouse and a long black skirt of some light, cool material. Touching it reminded me of touching a patch of cool damp moss. As the movie drew near an end we found ourselves kissing, slowly exploring one another. Her hands always fascinated me. She had such slender, talented fingers. Something about being near her made me always want to hold her hands in mine. Like clutching a talisman. She was so achingly beautiful. That first night we made love and reveled in one another's presence. She's gone now, and I look back on our memories together with a mixed sense of loss and awe. The next evening she was to have dinner with me at my place. It was an evening that I will never forget or let pass into obscurity.
I was standing in my kitchen when she arrived. I could hear her car idle for a second in the driveway. I was busily finishing up with dinner. I got a secret pleasure from cooking for her. The effort took on a greater meaning somehow, knowing she would be there to enjoy it with me. I was comfortably barefoot, wearing a black denim t-shirt and blue jeans. The smooth, cool linoleum floor felt good under my feet. I had the ac running all day, so the air inside was cool and inviting. Outside it was a typical Alabama summer day. I could look out my window facing the road and see the heat rising in distorted waves above the asphalt. I was cooking Italian. Pasta Alfredo with home made bread, sweet cherry tomatoes and a huge pitcher of iced tea. Lots of fresh lemons cut up into wedges in a bowl chilling in the refrigerator. She was a confirmed bacholerette, so I knew that it wasn't too often that someone cooked for her. Like I said, I was enjoying it anyway. I could hear footsteps as she walked up the steps of my front porch.
My cat Christine ran to the door to be let out. Cats live with a secret urgency that applies to everything they do, and 'stine is no exception. I opened the door and she bolted out past her legs. Our eyes met, and for a moment in my mind I could see a likeness of her atop a marble column. A Venus standing here on my porch in a blue jean skirt and a black button up blouse. I let her in and we hugged. In that brief space of time I drank in the smell of her skin, her hair, the warmth of her against me, the press of her breasts against my chest, her firm and slender frame in my arms. Somehow I felt more alive and real in that brief moment. Like somehow something had expanded and the world had a new dimension to it. It was difficult for me to tell just what it was I was feeling.
We sat on my couch, and she told me about her day at work. I sat and listened, rapt with every word ( I was watching her mouth move as she talked ) She was a tall, slender woman. Very feminine, very pleasing to the eye. She had shoulder length dark brown curly hair. Fair, clean looking skin. A natural smile on her face, at all times it seemed. She had crystalline blue eyes, they always amazed and moved me. The first time I saw her, standing in the door of her apartment, I found myself thinking that I could marry a woman like this. She was all the things that fascinated and excited me about women. Everything about her was touchable, kissable. I was very infatuated with her.
I got up to check on dinner as we talked. Stirring the pasta, taking the cherry tomatoes out of the little plastic box and rinsing them in the sink. The house was full of the aroma of fresh bread. I bought a bread maker a year or so before, and had used it almost religiously since. I got the metal basket out of the bread maker and turned it upside down, gave it a sharp rap on the bottom and a neat rectangular loaf of bread popped out. It smelled good, it was warm and heavy in my hands. I wrapped it in a clean dishtowel and sat it on the kitchen counter to cool. We chatted as I worked, moving from place to place in the kitchen readying for our dinner. I filled two wide mouth mason jars with ice and sat them in the freezer to chill.
Having her here to talk with was very refreshing. I asked her if she'd like a mixed drink, and she politely declined - after dinner maybe she said. I turned off the eyes of the stove, took a dishtowel and doubled it over and picked up the big boiler with the pasta in it, to drain it. Steam rose lazily from the sink as I poured the boiling water out. I poured the pasta into a sieve to drain and got my good dishes down from the pantry.
A few minutes later we were sitting indian style on my living room floor eating dinner. My coffee table was pushed to the center of the floor so we could stretch our legs. I took every opportunity to look at her as she talked. She had a subtle grace about her. We talked and laughed, and ate while music played quietly in the background. I finished my dinner first ( I'm a guy, of course I would ). I got to put my dishes away. While I was up I got a lighter, and went around my living room lighting candles here and there. I have had a love for candles for a long time, and with time I have learned which ones are appropriate for which occasion. Chestnut scented candles and gardenia scented candles are my two favorites. This particular night I had ten or so pillar candles, all chestnut. I lit each one and turned the lights out. The room was cast into a dim, golden black light. Our shadows flickered and danced around in the shifting light. I sat next to her as she finished her dinner, my shoulder close to hers.
I leaned close and nuzzled her neck, speaking to her lowly.
"Is everything ok hon.?"
"Yes, dinner's just great. I was really hungry. Work gave me such a headache today. I feel a lot better now that I have eaten something."
"Do you want something for your headache? I have some Advil."
"No, I might later. It feels like it's backing off. I think I might feel better after I take a bath."
"Would you like me to give you a bath honey? I'll make you some hot tea and you can soak and relax."
She turned and kissed me sweetly.
"Yes." she said under half lidded eyes.
I took her dishes and put them away. I made two drinks - Irish crime and butterscotch schnapps. Good for feeling warm and comfy. I sat next to her and gave her the drink.
"Here honey. Sip on this and I'll run your bath water."
"Thank you." she said quietly.
My master bathroom is adjoining to my bedroom, separated only by a wall with an open partition and an arch above the door. On top of the arch I keep five pillar candles, all a deep cobalt blue. When lit they smell like the ocean. A light, airy fragrance. I put the stopper in the tub and drew the bath. I walked back in the living room and she was singing along with the radio, head down and eyes closed. The music seemed to drift through the air with a physical presence.
' time to take her home her dizzy head is conscience laden '
' time to take a ride it leaves today no conversation '
I touched her hand and she opened her eyes and looked up at me. Seeing her at my feet gave me a pleasant mental image. She took my hand and I helped her to her feet. I led her through the kitchen to my bedroom, taking the drink from her hand and putting the glass in the sink on the way. We walked into my bed room and she closed the door behind us. We turned to one another and embraced. Her body felt warm and awaiting in my arms. We kissed, lingering in the moment. I kissed her neck, whispered to her.
"I know you've had a long day. Let me take care of you for a little while."
She responded with a long sigh. I slowly ran my hands down the arch of her back, holding her close to me and kissing her. One button at a time I unbuttoned her blouse. With each button I exposed more of her skin, seeming to glow in the candlelight. My fingers brushed the fabric of her bra and she moved slightly. I removed her blouse, reached behind her and unsnapped her bra, pulled it away and let it fall to the floor. Seeing her bare breasted was an enticing pleasure. Her breasts were well shaped, firm with a graceful swell. Her nipples were small and pert, pink like coral. I glided my hands along the flat of her stomach and up to the swell of each breast. Her breath quickened as I held them, leaned close and kissed her passionately.
I reached behind her, and her skirt fell to the floor with a silent whisper. I knelt down, relishing every inch of he skin, so tempting and warm just within inches of my touch. She was wearing dark red panties, almost a cranberry color. I pulled them down slowly, lingering in the anticipation of seeing her sex. Her pubic hair was neat, rectangular. A jet-black patch just above her crotch. The skin just above her vagina was a mild pink, gradually increasing to an increasing pale red as it traced down into her labia. Her clitoris was a small pink triangle. I breathed a rush of hot air on her clitoris, ran my hands up her thighs, felt a tremble there.
"I need to turn the water off." I said to her in a quiet voice. I rose up, and as I did I gingerly slid my finger up across her vagina. She kissed me and I went to turn the water off.
The bathroom was full of rolling, lazy steam. I got a big towel down from a shelf and put it onto the sink next to the tub. I took her hand and led her to the tub. She dipped a toe in, then slowly stepped into the tub. I held her hand as she lie down in the water.
"Is your head still hurting baby?" I asked.
"Yes but not nearly as bad."
"Let me get you some Advil. Would you like some hot tea?"
"I don't think I need the Advil, but some tea would be nice."
I went back into the kitchen, got out a big coffee mug and filled it with water and put it in the microwave. While the water heated I got the tea bags and a jar of honey. When the water was ready, I put the tea bag in the water and held it under the surface of the water with a spoon. I remembered her telling me on the phone one night how she liked her tea. Good thing I remembered. When the water was a dark brown I took the tea bag out and threw it in the trash. I took the cup and the honey jar back into the bathroom and knelt beside her.
"Do you want a lot of honey?"
"No, just about two level spoons."
I had the kind of honey jar with the wooden paddle inside the lid. I rolled the paddle around and drew it out. Held it up for her to see.
"That about enough?"
"Just right. Thank you."
I dipped the paddle into the mug, swirled it around and put it back in the jar, and sat the honey jar on the sink.
"I'll bathe you while that cools."
She didn't respond, just closed her eyes and lowered herself deeper into the water. I opened the cabinet under the sink and got out a small bottle of chamomile oil. I put the small plastic bottle in the bathwater. The bottle bobbed and floated. I got a towel, folded it over and tucked it under her head gently. I leaned close and kissed her, her tongue met mine. My hand found her breasts, nipples barely poking up above the surface of the water. I took a sponge and dipped it in the water, and lathered it with soap until it was covered in thick white foam. I started at her shoulders, then her neck, lingering at her breasts, applying gentle pressure with the sponge. I washed her stomach, lifted each arm and ran the sponge lightly down the length of both. I held her hands up one at a time, and with slow deliberation washed them, held them in my own and squeezed the sponge between them.
For several moments I sat there, eyes closed, our hands clasped together. I placed her hands at her stomach, found myself thinking of an exotic sleeping beauty. I washed her legs, raising each one up with one hand, washing them with other. I washed her feet, entwined my fingers between her toes and covered them in lather. I ran the sponge back up to her thighs, took great time and leisure in washing her thighs, slathering her pubic hair with foam, rubbing the sponge with slight friction against her vagina. She exhaled a long moaning breath. ( I was having am incredible hard time not interrupting her bath by jumping in the tub with her )
I dipped the sponge in the water, squeezed it and dipped it again. I rinsed her off with a pleasant ease, taking my time to retrace my path, enjoying the view along the way. Lying there with her eyes closed, she seemed so much at peace. I put the sponge away and grabbed the bottle of oil. It was warm now. I took the cap off and poured a thin bead in the water just below her chest. I held the bottle up, let a fat drop fall on a nipple, and her eyes opened. Her eyes were beautiful to me, so exotic and rare in their beauty. A pure, almost dark ice blue. Like a slab of frozen blue cobalt sitting in bright sunlight. She smiled sweetly at me. I was so pleased that she was enjoying herself.
I ran a bead of oil down the entire length of her body. The drops floating in the water gave off a golden liquid reflection in the candlelight. With the steam rising from the water, the oil shimmering on the surface of the water, her beautiful face framed by the white tile, she looked like some graceful phoenix about to rise to life from ash. To this day it pangs at my heart how beautiful she was to me. I capped the bottle and put it away. I put a hand at her back, lifted her upward into a sitting position. She leaned forward and kissed me. I placed my hand on her chest, began to rub the oil into her skin. The scent of chamomile and clean skin was strong in the room. I kissed her again, closed my eyes, let my hands wander. I felt the lithe musculature under her skin, the firm flat of her stomach, her strong, slender legs. Under my hands she felt like a great spring slowly uncoiling. For that I was proud.
"Do you want your tea now? It should be cool enough to drink."
"Yes please. That was so nice. Thank you. I feel so much better."
I gave her the cup. She drank in small sips, no words between us. I got the towel from the sink and laid it in my lap.
"Take your time honey. I am enjoying every second of you being here."
She drank her tea, ladylike. When she had enough she handed me the mug. ( the mug was still over half full - I believe in overkill when it comes to simple pleasures ) I took the cup and sat it to one side, stood up with her towel. I took her hand to help her to her feet. When she stood up, the water ran down her skin in an electric sheen like she was slowly turning to gold. Her skin was beaded in a million pinpoints of amber colored light, highlighting every line of her body, clinging to every curve and accentuating her slender frame. A bead of oil perched atop each nipple, drops of water nestled in her pubic hair like drops of gold. Every inch of her skin was alive in the candlelight, reflecting in a billion mirror images shining feebly in the steamy haze.
I wanted to grapple her, kiss her hard, kiss her breasts, kiss her stomach, suck the water from her nipples, drink the water from her pubic hair and bury my tongue in her crotch. And she stood there like a perfect Venus dipped in liquid gold.
I held the towel to her, she stepped out of the tub and walked into me. I wrapped the towel around her and we fell into a long deep kiss. She wrapped her arms around me, pulled me even closer to her. Her skin was hot and soft next to me. The scent of her skin, chamomile and chestnut was alive and strong in the air. I reached behind, below her, and picked her up and sat her on the sink. She ground her tongue inside my mouth, approvingly. I opened the towel. It fell back onto the sink. I kissed her neck, languishing the smooth hot skin, kissed her cheeks, her mouth again, gently bit her bottom lip and sucked on it. I kissed her chin, ran my tongue down her neck to her chest, caressed her breasts with my tongue, my mouth, felt her nipple grow hard against my cheek. I greedily sucked her nipples, squeezing her breasts. I could feel her shudder.
She ran her fingers through my hair, locked them together there at the back of my head, pulling me hard against her. My hand found her stomach, teased her belly button, then glided down to her crotch. I looked into her eyes, kissed her once again, then knelt onto the floor in front of her. Her sex was fragrant, warm and sweet. I slowly kissed her there, parting her labia with my tongue, sucking slowly at her clit. She moaned, a cooing sigh. I felt her grip grow tighter, much to my pleasure. I slid my tongue down, into that fragrant velvet seam. She groaned, pulled me closer. I reached behind her, gripped her ass firmly, buried my face deeper into her sex. I forcefully probed my tongue inside her, with slow deliberate revolutions. Lapping up to her clit, gently biting and sucking at it and back down. She was breathing heavier now, exhaling audibly.
She spoke, a labored moan.
An image raced across my mind. I took my hands from her ass, placed them above me on her stomach. And I stopped. She took one harsh breath and waited for me to return. When I didn't in the space of a few seconds, she opened her eyes to find me staring solidly at her.
"Baby?" She said. "What's wrong?"
"Yes baby? What is it? Why did you stop??"
I pushed her back against the mirror, a gentle but firm push. Grasped her left breast and reached beside her. Picked up the honey jar. I pulled the paddle from the jar, ran it across her mouth. Kissed her fiercely. Braced her neck with my left hand, ran the sticky little wand down her chest, slathered her breasts in honey. Dipped the paddle back in the jar, brought it out dripping and lathered it across her stomach. She was crying, laughing, and moaning all in rapid succession.
Each time the cool wand touched her skin she jumped, each time I would kiss her even more forcefully, our tongues grinding together, our chins tacky with the sticky honey. Ran the wand down to her crotch, rubbed the wand into her pubic hair until it was a sticky matted patch, dipped it back into the jar, brought it out dripping again. I slowly, deliciously drove the wand against her sex. She squealed, ground against my hand with delirious friction, her hips pistoning forward.
Her hand found my zipper, pulled it down, snatched the button on my jeans loose. I threw the wand aside, pulled my pants down, immediately she was pulling my underwear away. I rubbed my hands on her chest, grasping her breasts, smearing the sticky honey into her skin. She grabbed my hands, entwined her fingers in mine. She let go of my hands, grabbed my cock in one hand, began stroking it slowly. Cupping my testicles with the other, rubbing them as she stroked my cock. I pulled away, kissed her again, knelt down and buried my tongue in that sweet, sticky puddle of sex between her thighs. She ran her sticky fingers through my hair, groaning and mewling, bucking madly.
I felt her tense, and began sucking madly at her clit. She drew a deep hitching breath, pushed me violently into her crotch and came in a sweet gusher. A low guttural grunt escaped from her. My face and chin were plastered in warm fragrant sex, thick ropes of honey and sex clinging to my chin and her clitoris. I rose, held her close, felt a seismic shudder roll over her, slid my finger inside her and gently rubbed her g spot. She lolled her head back, thrust her hips against me hard and grabbed my hand, not letting it move back any, and cried aloud as a second orgasm rolled over her. I felt a warm flood around my hand as I held her there for several long moments, then pulled her to me, caressed her clit with the head of my cock, then slid my cock inside and a madly fucked her. Our skin was glued together in a sheet of sweet tacky honey, her nipples hard against my chest, I buried my tongue in her mouth and drank long sweet kisses as I grasped her ass, with each muscular tug I felt myself coming closer. Lost in abandon, no want to prolong it, seized and rampant with animal lust and lost in the grips of an uncontrollable fuck. I felt my climax growing near, with drew from her, took her hand and placed it on my cock. Under her rapid breath she said lowly " no baby. "