Icy Fingers

Lybee was restless. She didn't know how to tell David that she wanted something, anything, to make their nights more exciting. They had been dating for nearly six months when he suggested moving in with her, to spend their time together and be closer. It took her a week to decide. She thought it over from so many angles, always coming up with the same answer. She loved him. She liked him. David was everything she had always dreamed of in a mate. They had connected immediately on the first date and things had only gotten better. Her major concern was daily exposure to her would soon convince him that he had made a bad choice and send him running from her. But after nearly a year, things were better than ever. They each had careers that intrigued and challenged them. Their circles of friends had meshed nicely and they enjoyed a variety of activities with them. The best part was how happy they were together. Spending an entire weekend with just each other was still a joy to savor.

Everything was wonderful. Except their sex life. As much as they loved each other, as open as they both were to new and exciting activities, their sex life had become, well, a little stale. It was beyond routine, it was almost set in stone. Lybee knew that if she took a shower, David would join her. She knew he would stand behind her and soap up a cloth to wash her back, quickly moving the soapy cloth over her tight ass, circling and massaging her cheeks. Soon his soapy fingers would be probing between the cheeks, moving down to her tight hole, always eager to gain even a tiny amount of entry. Finally, after much butt-clenching from Lybee, he would slide his soapy palm over her hip, slipping it down her tummy and into her curlies. He loved soaping and playing with them. Soon, he would settled on the floor of the shower, cross-legged, his fingers shaping and combing the soft hair. He would run his fingers along her slit, even inserting a finger, all in the name of cleanliness. To give him credit, he was fastidious about rinsing the soap away, even checking with hiS lips and tongue to make sure she was squeaky clean.

She would step from the shower, drying her skin, and go to the sink to brush her teeth. Within seconds, he was right behind her, pressing his erect cock against her ass, sliding it up and down between her cheeks. Lybee tried to finish her nightly tasks while fending off his rear attack. Then, as she moved to the bed, he often came up behind her and nearly pushed her forward, so eager was he to enjoy his handiwork.

He would climb between her legs, his mouth open and anxious to taste her, lick and nibble and drive her wild with desire. His tongue would travel up and down her slit, dwelling on her swollen clit, lapping at it as she began to moan and continuing until he was sure she had enjoyed at least one orgasm. Then it was his turn. He would turn her onto her knees, pulling her ass high in the air, and thrust his engorged cock deep into her, making her gasp from the force. He could maintain his erection for long periods of time, probing her depths for what seemed forever. At first, it was delightful, having a lover with such stamina. Lately, though, Lybee had begun to let her mind wander, planning meals or preparing briefs while he plundered her pink. She found if she made a well-timed moan occasionally, David was satisfied. When he finally came, Lybee always felt relief, inordinately pleased that it was over. The sex was nice. Sometimes, at its best, it was a little more than nice.

But this just wasn't what she wanted. She wanted her sex life to be as satisfying as the other aspects of their time together. She missed the little things, the kissing for hours, the slow buildup, the surprise touches. She wanted to feel that everything wasn't exactly the same each time, that there were still some activities they hadn't explored, some new twists to the old standbys that might make her heart race, her moans real.

All the women's magazines said to be truthful. They suggested sitting with your lover and telling him the truth, sharing your feelings and your hopes and desires. Lybee knew this was the way it had to be and she needed to make the time to tell David how she felt.

They had always kept Wednesdays for "Date Night". No friends, no coworkers. Just them. This particular Wednesday, Lybee made a lovely dinner. She lit candles and played soft love songs on the CD player. She bought a particularly delicious bottle of wine to share as they had the heart to heart discussion she knew they needed.

David came home from work a little late. He kissed her absent-mindedly as he passed through the kitchen on his way to change clothes. When he came back into the living room, he sat on the sofa and opened the paper, sighing happily.

Lybee watched him, realizing he hadn't even noticed all the extra care she had taken with the evening. She turned off the burners, blew out the candles and went to their room, curling up on the bed and pulling the quilt over her shoulders.

When David finally realized she was gone, he was surprised. This was unlike Lybee. He looked around, seeing for the first time the lovely table and place settings, the unlit candles, the bottle of wine. It occurred to him that it was Wednesday night, Date Night, and he had blown it! He looked for her, almost missing her under the heavy quilt. As he moved closer, he heard her soft sobs, and his heart broke. He moved to the bed, gathering her shaking form into his arms, ready to make it all better. At first, all she wanted to do was cry. He held her, waiting for the tears to subside so he could find out what had caused her such unhappiness. He whispered to her, smoothed back her hair, and kissed her swollen eyes.

When she finally stopped, she sat up against the pillows and tried to talk with him. Her voice was still quavery, hiccups interrupting her sentences, but this was important to Lybee. David was the man she wanted to live with the rest of her life, and they needed to address the problem and solve it.

"I love you so much, David. I want to be with you, and no one else, for the rest of my life. You fill my heart with such joy and contentment, you are the man I was waiting for all my life. I, um, I feel our sex life has become too routine, too expected. I want to be thrilled, surprised, overwhelmed sometimes. Could we work on that? I am willing to try anything you suggest and I have a few suggestions of my own, when you are ready."

David held her to his chest, listening, accepting, and agreeing with her. He promised to work on their sex life, to try to inject some excitement and thrills into their "together" time. They kissed lovingly and went to eat the surprise dinner she had prepared, both grateful once again that they had found one another.

That night in bed, David asked Lybee to make love to him. Usually he took the lead, and she followed and accepted. Tonight, she felt empowered. She told him to lie still, and that he had to obey her every command. She stretched full length on his naked body, and spent time exploring his mouth, tasting him, teasing and probing, her mouth reteaching him the joys of kissing. Her tongue slipped into his mouth, exploring the heat, playing games with him, making his entire body ache with desire. She rubbed her warm, bare skin against him, her nipples hard and pointy on his chest, her curlies soft on his thigh. Her fingers caressed him, slipping gently over his skin, making him hard with desire. When he reached for her, she guietly told him to place his hands at his sides. Her mouth moved busily over him, touching spots he had forgotten, creating lightning.

She straddled his thighs, her hands grasping his cock, massaging it, precome oozing over her fingers. She lifted her hips, using his cock for her own personal toy, rubbing herself, massaging her hard clit, giving pleasure to herself at his expense. Her eyes closed as she swayed above him, taking what she wanted and making him wait and want. Her body tensed, all the sensations pinpointed on her tiny clit. The roar filled her head and throat as she continued the sweetly painful teasing of the central point of her body. Her legs stiffened, her hands held his engorged dick tightly. As her spasms began, she pushed his cock off her clit and into her waiting and ready pussy, sliding down the hard length until she was impaled on his heat. Her body trembled, throbbed and pulled him into her darkest pink. Her head thrown back, he could hear the animal sounds she uttered while in the midst of her pleasure.

David watched his woman, not even recognizing her, as she towered over him, taking all that she wanted. He waited, holding back his own completion, wanting her entire attention. When he recognized that Lybee was coming back to herself, again aware of her surroundings, he called her name once, softly. Then his body began the dance of need and release, his hips bucking up to her willing hips, his cock fucking her so-ready pussy. It took only a few more strokes for him to explode with such intensity she had to reach for his hands to stay astride him. He poured his hot come into her, feeling the joy that comes from making love with someone special. She rode him throughout, milking his cock for every drop of his come and then just enjoying the sensations of his throbbing dick deep within her.

Then she melted. Her body became warm fluid, wilting to his, molding to his, a small ragdoll, totally deplete.

As his arms wrapped around her, holding her close, her heart beating against his chest, David made his promise. "I will fulfill your fantasies, my sweet. I will make you happy in every aspect of our life. I love you with all my heart and you will never have reason to doubt it again."

TO BE CONTINUED....