Milk and Cookies

PUBLIC BETA

Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box.

You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.

Click here

It wasn't until we sat patiently in my driveway waiting for the garage door to open that I really took the time to think about what I was doing. Less than 24 hours ago, this woman was a complete stranger. Now here she was about to come into my house, probably for the rest of the day.

Everything happens for a reason, I thought.

Brittany beamed at me from the passenger seat. Her lips were full and pouty, and images of what they would look like wrapped around my cock flooded my mind. I immediately scolded myself for thinking those thoughts about a woman I was simply helping out of a tough situation. I managed to force those onto the backburner, but the urge to lean in and meet those oh-so-kissable lips with my own was a little harder to sweep aside.

"What are you so happy about?" I asked.

"You," she said. "Someone so willing to help me out in a bad situation like this."

"Yeah," I said. "A funny, gorgeous woman who barely knows me is about to spend the day at my house. I think I should be the one smiling."

She continued to smile as I pulled my Silverado into the garage. We grabbed the bags and headed inside. I quickly ushered her into the living room and gave her the remote while I went back to the kitchen. I warmed up hot chocolate while putting all my groceries away.

I came back holding two steaming mugs and a blanket, and was pleasantly surprised to see her watching football on ESPN.

"This," I said as I handed her the blanket, "you get now. And this," I said, holding one of the mugs up, "you get when you explain to me why you're shopping all the way out here."

I sat down in my recliner, putting both mugs on the table.

"What do you mean?"

"You live in Keller, and we're in Garland now," I said. "You probably passed by 30 Wal-Marts and a hundred other grocery stores on your way here. Why come all the way out here to shop? Two days in a row, no less?"

She got up briefly to get the mug from the table, and despite my earlier ultimatum, I made no move to stop her. She took several sips quickly.

"Sorry," she said. "It just looked too inviting. Anyway, my friend Sherry lives east of Rockwall. She went through my Bachelor's program with me at UT-Arlington. She just got dumped last week, and I'm worried about her. With so many people at my house, it's getting a little suffocating out there, so I decided to come out to check on her."

"Two days in a row, in this weather?"

"The things we do for our friends," she said. "Besides, I stayed over at her house last night. The stuff I bought yesterday was for her. She said she wasn't going to do Christmas dinner either, but I thought if everything was staring her in the face, she'd go ahead and do it anyway. Just my way of trying to cheer her up."

"There are Wal-Marts in Rockwall," I said. "Why come all the way across the lake?"

"You ask a lot of questions," she said, but didn't sound too annoyed by it. "I grew up out here, and I know where this Wal-Mart is. So I stopped there yesterday on the way out there, and stopped by today on the way home."

I thought for a moment. "I guess that all makes sense. Just seems crazy to me that you live an hour away but came all the way out here to shop for basic things like ketchup and flour."

"Well, that's why," she said. "Now, if you're done being inquisitive, I want to watch football!"

Those words were music to my ears, and I matched her grin as she turned the volume up on the game. No sooner had she done that, though, when it went to a commercial. The first ad was for Sunny Delight.

"I forgot to put your orange juice away," I said. "Be right back."

I hopped up and headed into the kitchen. I'd left her two bags on the table, and I fished the orange juice out and put it in the fridge. I started to walk back into the living room, but I bumped into my guest in the doorway.

"Sorry," I said. "Didn't know you were coming in here."

"I spilled hot chocolate on your coffee table, and wanted to get something to clean it up," she explained. I looked on top of the fridge, where I kept my dish towels, and that's when I spotted it. I'd all but forgotten that my overzealous neighbor had insisted on hanging mistletoe over the doorway before I went on my last trip.

I looked at Brittany, and she was looking at it too. Her eyes met mine, and there was a glow in them I instantly knew I would never forget. I was ready to laugh the whole thing off -- after all, we barely knew each other -- but when she licked her lips invitingly, I lost all my willpower. I leaned in and gently brushed my lips against hers. It was subtle, and it was tender. It only lasted a second, but there was more heat in that split-second of a kiss than I remembered from any other first kiss in my entire life.

Whatever the case, it wasn't enough. I backed away briefly, but when I saw that her eyes were still closed, I leaned in again. If the first kiss had been a friendly introduction, the second was an all-out assault. I sucked her top lip between mine and she did the same with my bottom lip as our tongues instantly engaged in battle. I could feel her tongue ring with my own tongue. My right arm snaked behind her head and pulled her tighter as I felt her arms wrap around my torso.

It was everything I thought it would be when I was imagining it in the car, multiplied by ten. We broke apart ever so briefly out of respect to our lungs, but wasted no time tangling ourselves together again.

She pushed me up against the side of the fridge and became the aggressor, her hands running up and down my chest and sides as our tongues continued their battle. To answer her, I wrapped my arms around her waist and lifted her off the ground. She squealed at first, but quickly wrapped her tight, toned legs around my waist as I carried her back into the living room and deposited her onto the couch.

We were like two overly cautious school kids for the next half-hour. We made out frantically and let our hands roam wherever they wanted, but we carefully avoided any areas that might get us in trouble. I kept my hands away from her breasts, choosing instead to run them up and down her sides or across her stomach. Our legs rubbed together and created plenty of heat between our jeans, but my leg never slipped between hers, and vice versa.

We were exploring and living in the moment, happy to simply enjoy each other's bodies and mouths without pushing things too far. It was an unspoken agreement between us. We struggled to catch our breath when we finally split apart, still fully clothed except our shoes. She spoke first.

"I haven't done that since high school," she said.

"Been a long time for me, too," I replied. It had been nine months since I'd even kissed a woman; much longer for anything like this. "You are very talented at that, by the way."

"You're not so bad yourself," she said. We went back to it for a little while longer, but eventually the mid-day malaise overtook us, and we drifted off to sleep right there on my couch.

********************

I noticed three things when I woke up some time later.

First, Brittany felt just right nestled up against me. Somehow we'd managed to squirm ourselves into a spooning position. My back was pressed up against the back of the couch, and she lay on her side in front of me. At 6-foot-2, I had almost a foot on her, so her head fit comfortably against my neck and upper chest. My left arm was draped around her stomach. It was a corny thought, for sure, but it seemed like this particular position had been made just for us.

Second, I realized that the TV was off, and so were the living room lights. The clock on my satellite receiver was off as well, meaning that the storm had knocked out the power. Grrrrrreat.

The last thing I noticed was the most poignant of all, however. I could barely make him out through the tiny bit of light streaming through the living room window, but I saw Chester curled up against Brittany's legs. His head was tucked between his front legs, and he was sleeping harder than either of us had been.

His presence there was remarkable to me, and I alternated between staring at him and Brittany for the next few minutes. I couldn't help but laugh, and that woke up my house guest. She turned to look at me, that infectious smile still plastered on her face.

"What?" she asked softly.

"Just watching your friend down there," I replied.

She reached down and petted Chester's back. The cat didn't budge. "Why?" she asked.

"He's always been a pretty damn good judge of character."

"Really?" she asked, continuing to pet him. "Well, then, I'm glad he likes me."

"He does," I agreed. "Poor guy absolutely hated my ex-wife."

I'd blurted that out without thinking, and I instantly froze. Thankfully, so did my vocal chords so nothing else stupid could slip out. Sure, we were spending the day together and making out like a couple of oversexed teenagers, but it was waaaaaay too soon to be unlocking the skeleton closet.

She said nothing for a few moments, and finally I couldn't take it anymore.

"Sorry about that," I said. "Sure that was way more than you wanted to know."

She gripped my hand tightly. "Not at all," she said. "People get divorced all the time, Kevin."

I didn't know what to say, so I said nothing.

"He didn't like her, huh?" she said, trying to get me to say something.

"Not even a little bit," I said, laughing. "The first time he met my mom and my sister, he gravitated toward them. He's cool with my sister's kids, even though they like trying to pull his tail. My dad plays rough with him, and he just eats it up. He doesn't mind the neighbors or their kids, either. But Kira... the first time she walked through the door, he hissed at her from across the room and hid behind the couch. Eventually he got where he would come out when she was around, but he'd stay away from her. He wouldn't even come when she'd get out the treats."

"Damn," Brittany said.

"I know," I said. "After she left, she had to come back to pick up a few things, and he growled at her the whole time she was there. The only other person he's ever growled at was a door-to-door lawn care salesman I couldn't get rid of."

"Aww," she replied, bending down to pet him a few more times. Her long, smooth strokes did nothing to wake him up, but as her ass pushed backward into my crotch, something else was definitely stirring.

"Let me up a second," I said, and she just looked back at me over her shoulder.

"Why?" she giggled, wiggling her hips to let me know she knew.

"Power's out," I said, ignoring the problem. "Candles are in the kitchen."

"Oh, ok," she said and sat up on the couch, no small feat considering the furball attached to her legs. Chester was unhappy with the disturbance, and started meowing instantly. I stood up and patted him on the head.

"Calm down, Chester," I said, shuffling into the kitchen.

"Chester, huh?" Brittany said to him. She continued talking as I entered the kitchen, doing that weird baby talk thing women like to do to animals. Normally it annoys me, but with Brittany it was cute, just a funny quirk that made me like her a little bit more. When I returned to the living room with the candles a few moments later, he'd already curled up on her lap and was back asleep.

"Wow," I said, watching the two of them as I set up the candlesticks and lit up the room. "I knew he liked you, but... that's unprecedented. I don't think he even took to me that quickly."

"Aww, don't be jealous," she said playfully. "I've actually always been good with animals. We have a chocolate lab, but he's down in the valley with my older sister for Christmas this year." Her face was hypnotic in the candlelight, and I could see the flames dancing in her eyes. "I thought all men were macho and liked dogs," she said with a grin.

"I like dogs, but they are a lot of work," I said. "I'm on the road so much with my job that it isn't really practical to have one right now."

"How would Chester do with a dog?" she asked, petting him as he snoozed.

"I actually don't know," I said. "He's ok with other cats usually, but he's never even had to share space with a dog. The neighbors have one, and I know he likes to sit in the kitchen window and stare at it."

"He probably thinks it's insane," she quipped.

"I think it is," I said. "So what about you? All women are sensitive and like cats, right?" I asked, turning her earlier joking stereotype around.

"I like them, but we don't have any because my mom's allergic," she said. "I still live with my family while I'm finishing up school."

"Makes sense," I said. "Exactly what I would have done if I'd gone to college right after high school."

"What did you do instead?" she asked.

"I played professional baseball."

"Really?" she asked, perking up instantly.

"Really," I replied. "In retrospect, I should have gone to college instead. I had plenty of scholarship offers, but the only school I wanted to play for didn't want me. The Detroit Tigers did, though. Took me in the 22nd round."

"Where did you want to go?"

"The University of Maryland," I replied. "My dad got two degrees there, and my older sister was going there at the time. Now she's a chemistry professor there. But apparently their baseball team had enough lefties with 94-mile-an-hour fastballs."

"Stupid coaches, more likely," she said. "Mid-90s is impressive for a righty, and it's a lot less common for left-handers."

"You know some baseball," I stated, very impressed.

"Three brothers," she said. "I know more about sports than most men. One of my brothers works in the front office for the Colorado Rockies now, so I'm even more into baseball."

"All right," I replied. "There has to be something about you that isn't completely and totally awesome. Out with it."

"All in good time," she teased. That meant she wanted there to be a next time, so I took it. "So you signed with the Tigers. What happened then?"

I rolled up my left sleeve above the elbow. "Pitched for them for three years, made it all the way to Double A. Took a line drive off my pitching elbow during a Memorial Day game in Connecticut. Hurt like hell, but I decided I could stay in the game. I made a few warmup pitches, everything felt fine, and the team trainer agreed with me. So, the next live pitch I threw, I tore tendons I didn't even know I had. My left elbow now looks like a drunk blind guy doing a jigsaw puzzle. That was pretty much it for my career."

"Wow," she said, looking over my elbow for a few seconds. The scars formed an intricate pattern that resembled nothing else on Earth. "I'm sorry to hear that."

"Thanks," I said. "It was tough to deal with, but I know everything happens for a reason. On a whim, I enlisted in the Marine Corps. They taught me how to work on the computer systems in airplanes. I became fascinated with aviation, and when I wasn't deployed overseas, I learned to fly. One of the owners of my charter corporation was a pilot I served with in Iraq. My professional life is pretty much perfect now, so I can't complain."

"Just your professional life?" Brittany asked. "What about your personal life?"

"A story for a different time and a stronger drink," I said, grabbing the mugs off the coffee table and retreating into the kitchen. I'd already told this alluring virtual stranger more than I'd planned to, and it was a wonder she wasn't already out the door. Show and tell time was over for the day. "You want a beer?" I asked. "They should still be fairly cold."

"Sounds good," she replied, and within seconds, I was sitting next to her on the couch again. "Fair is fair, Kevin. I guess you've probably figured out that I'm divorced, too."

"Not necessarily," I said. "You don't have to be married to have a child."

"True," she said. "But I was. I got married two years after high school, divorced two years later, which was almost two years ago now. Seemed like a good idea at the time, but he turned out to be a complete and total assclown."

I just grinned at her language.

"Sorry to be so blunt, but he was. Actually, pretty much every guy I've ever dated has turned out to be an asshole. Some were drunks, some just wanted to get me into bed, one was even a cheater. All of them were liars. I've only had one boyfriend who never lied to me, and he lasted for less than a week."

"What happened to him?"

"A story for a different time and a stronger drink," she said, licking her lips as she turned the line around on me.

"Touche," I said. "Are you still friends with your ex-husband?"

"Not exactly," she said. "He's in jail. Hopefully, he will be for a long, long time." There was obviously more to the story, but she'd tell me when she felt comfortable with me... if she ever did. "Are you still friends with yours?"

"The bitch landed me on Fox News," I said. "The details are for another time, but she's a public figure in Washington. Our break-up was very messy, and due to her job, it was very public. I could forgive CNN and Headline News. Maybe even MSNBC. But once I saw the story on Fox News... that's just unacceptable. There's no forgiving that."

She was laughing again, which woke Chester up. I had to fight the urge to shove the cat off her lap and fall back on top of her on the couch, but I somehow managed.

"Ditch your friend for a minute," I said, standing up. "You're very lucky. I don't think anyone's ever gotten a tour of my house at night with the power out."

Brittany stood up, and Chester jumped off her lap and onto the couch. I grabbed the closest candle, and when Brittany took my hand, I could feel the sparks crackling at her touch. Between that and the smile she tossed me, my little problem was becoming not-so-little again.

I led her through my house, which was really more than a bachelor needed. She couldn't see much, but that was okay, because I didn't have a lot to say. I hadn't even been in the two guest bedrooms or the extra bathroom since I moved in a few months ago.

When we got outside, though, I could tell she was impressed with the deck. On one side was a brand new hot tub that I had yet to use, and on the other side was a large gas grill, which was my primary means of cooking.

"This is quite the house, Mr. Collins," she said once we'd hurried inside, escaping from the freezing temperatures and lightly falling snow.

"Thanks," I said. "I know it's too big for a single guy, really, but I figured..."

Something caught my attention. Something she'd said.

"How did you know that was my last name?" I asked.

Her eyes flashed with something -- surprise, maybe? -- but they settled right down.

"You told me today at Wal-Mart," she said. "When you introduced yourself."

"I did?" I asked. I didn't remember telling her that.

"Yes, you did," she laughed. "Typical man. Gets one little kiss, and forgets everything."

"Hey, that wasn't one little kiss," I replied. "That was a whole bunch of the best kisses I've ever had. I seriously don't remember telling you that, but I'll take your word for it. You have to share, though."

"I thought I told you mine, too," she said, and when I shook my head, she shrugged. "Oh well. It's Morgan. Brittany Morgan."

"Sounds hot," I said. "Just like you."

I had no idea what time it was, but it was dark outside. The only light came from the flickering red candle, but it picked up what was now becoming a familiar twinkle in her eyes. Staring back into them, I was entranced. She licked her lips as she nudged me backward against a counter in the kitchen. "So what do you want to do now, hmm?"

"You," I replied, picking her up around the waist. She wrapped her legs around my lower back as I lifted her, and our tongues wasted no time getting back together. I took slow, careful steps as I made my way down the hall, stopping only to open my bedroom door.

123456...8