A Tale for a Winter's Night

I took a deep breath. "Freddie?"

"Yes?"

"Sorry. I can't help myself."

"I'd be offended if you could."

I inhaled the scent of her hair and kissed her on the top of her head. "Girl, you are playing with fire. I'm just a man, not a saint."

She rubbed her leg against my member as if to affirm that a saint was not what she wanted and climbed just that small amount further on top of me. We lay like that, entwined, holding one another with long, tender kisses as the mood compelled us.

When it was finally time for bed, we checked the door and the snow had never let up. My car was blocked in, and I couldn't go anywhere if I had wanted to. Even if I dug a path to the street, the roads had almost two feet of snow and everywhere traffic was stopped. Nobody was going anywhere that night and I wasn't complaining in the slightest. In fact, I couldn't keep the smile off my face as we agreed that I was staying the night. Judging from the way she smiled at me, the evening had worked out as both of us had hoped.

We walked along separate walls locking the door, checking the kitchen, and turning off the lights, then met at the foot of the stairs. As we turned to climb the steps, our hands again came together, and we climbed hand-in-hand toward the bedrooms.

"You know this storm may continue all night. There's no telling when you'll be able to go home."

"Personally, I'm hoping it snows all weekend." Okay, it was another cheesy comment, but I was smiling from one ear to the other and walking two inches off the ground. Also, I wasn't lying. "I did notice you had a well-stocked fridge and if you don't mind sharing tomorrow, I'll promise to take you out for a fancy dinner once the roads are passable. Actually, I'd like to take you out even if you put a padlock on the fridge and reduce me to bread and water."

She was smiling almost as much as me, so I guess she had a soft spot for cheesy jokes.

The moment had come. We reached two doors on the hallway. She pointed to the left and said, "Well, that's the guest room..." and without a moment's hesitation and never dropping my hand, she pulled me into her room. Once inside, she turned and taking one last step toward me she said, "...and this is my room."

Now I may not be the brightest bulb, but even I knew what to do next. I wrapped my arms around her pulling her close, and I kissed her. I kissed her and I didn't stop. Our lips parted and our tongues danced, and we didn't stop. She was breathing hard. We turned our heads as she shifted her body from one side to the other, and still we kissed. I slid my arm down around her waist and drew her close. She wrapped her arms around my neck and our kisses never broke.

Is it true what they say about pheromones? I don't know. All I know is that her lips were soft, her tongue was wet and warm, and her taste was wonderful. I breathed her in. My erection was back, and she pushed herself into it, slowly grinding against me.

When we finally broke our kiss, she buried her face in my chest and said, "David? I think I know the first entry on my bucket list."

I had a pretty good idea what it might be, but I asked, "What is it?"

"You. I want you."

"Are you sure? With all you're facing, the last thing I want to do is give you regret in the morning."

"I'm sure." Looking up at me and with a tear in her eye, she said, "David, I've never been married. I've never really been close. I've had two boyfriends and they both dropped me after a few months. I don't want either of them to be my last, best memory of love and intimacy when the time comes."

For a moment I was lost for words. It had been years since my divorce and my love life as a single man wasn't the sort of thing you write books about. What if I disappoint her? I brushed the hair from her face and said, "You know what happens when you pet a stray puppy, don't you?"

She gave me a puzzled look.

"The puppy never leaves, and you're stuck with him. He just wants you to keep feeding and playing with him."

Now she was smiling again. "I've always wanted a puppy."

So much for having doubts. As I kissed her with one arm behind her back, my other hand slid up her side and cupped her breast. I don't care if you're sixteen or fifty-six, holding a woman's breast is a magical moment. It was the perfect size, not too small and not too big, and wonderfully warm. As I brushed my thumb across her nipple, I felt it harden. Oh, yes, there was no doubt; I knew hers were perfect nipples even then. I briefly remembered my teenage definition of the perfect breast: it's the one in your hand at that moment. Yes, these were perfect breasts beyond any doubt. I ran my hand up and down her side, alternately cupping her breast and then pulling her to me, then cupping her breast again. She responded without hesitation and slid her hand down my torso and ran it across my erection. I guess she liked what she found because she never really let go. She just ran her hand up and down, kneading and stroking, until my heart was pounding. My hand had moved to her bottom, and I kneaded her cheeks as she stroked my member.

There are some things you do while kissing and some you do while looking in your lover's eyes. As our kisses broke and I looked into her eyes, I brought my two hands to her chest, and I began to unbutton her shirt. With a gleam in her eyes, she began to do the same for me. Between buttons we kissed and in short order our shirts were lying in a pile on the floor. We immediately began tugging at each other's t-shirts, the undershirts that we'd worn to insulate ourselves from the winter chill. Two people cannot pull each other's t-shirts off at the same time, but we tried and laughed while we did it. Then with a deep and lingering kiss, I reached around her back and unclasped her bra. She stepped back as her bra fell into the growing pile of clothes on the floor, and her arms went around my neck as we resumed our kisses.

What did I say about the perfect breast? I cupped her left breast in my right hand as my left arm drew her to me, and I could not remember when I'd held a more perfect soft, warm globe. We stood there for a time, kissing and caressing, kneading and fondling, with our hands alternating between our bare chests and the pants we had no use for. I passed my hand between her thighs as she rubbed her hand along my member. It was only a matter of time before we would be free of these unwanted pants. My hands went to her belly, and I began to undo her belt. The button on her waistband was freed. As I began to slide the zipper down, I slipped my fingers into her pants so that the back of my hand ran down her stomach and across her mound. I briefly let my fingers slide between her legs as my other hand slipped under the band of her pants and I pushed them over her hips. I dropped to my knees as I slipped her pants to the floor, and she gracefully stepped from her pants.

Wearing nothing but her panties, she stood before me, and I did what any man would do at that point; I dropped to my knees and kissed her navel as I took her bottom in my two hands and held her to me. A woman's belly button is a sensitive and erotic place. There must be a nerve that runs directly from the navel to the clitoris because as my tongue gently probed the depths of her navel and my hands squeezed her bottom, she began to shiver and moan. Her belly was soft and warm, and I buried my face in her stomach as I probed her navel with my tongue. She was shivering and her legs quivered and seemed to grow weak until I thought she might orgasm or collapse to the floor at least.

Her bed was just behind her, so I gently pushed her back until she fell back onto the foot of her bed with me close behind. I kissed her stomach again as I slipped my hands under the waistband of her panties and gently slid them down to her ankles and over her feet. She was now naked and inviting me in. This was not a woman who had prepared herself for me, shaving carefully, bathing and primping, and applying her makeup with great care. This was her real and natural self. We were spontaneous and our passion was born of the moment and nurtured by the years we'd known each other.

When we first began to undress, I told myself that I should not be too adventurous this first night; I should be tender and loving and we would make love face-to-face. Seeing her lying there before me drove every thought of caution from my mind, so I bent to her mound with my hands on her hips and I began to kiss her sex. I alternated between her inner thighs and her mound until I found my way to her lips, and as I kissed them, I could swear they were kissing me back. I feasted on her lips, passing my tongue over her little button. She moaned approval as I kissed her lips, and with every lick of her button she shivered again as her moans grew louder.

"Oh, David, I'm chilled." It was winter after all. "Can we get under the covers?"

She wasn't so heavy, and I wasn't so old that I couldn't pick her up in my arms.

As I set her down with her head on her pillows and drew the sheet and blanket over her, she scooted toward the middle of the bed and tried to pull me to her. "I love flannel sheets in winter!" Did I actually say that? Of all the stupid things to say to a naked woman...

She just laughed and pulled me harder.

"Wait, I'm still wearing my pants!"

"Well?" She was being sexy and playful. What a wonderful combination at any age!

There is no sexy way for a man to get out of his pants and remove his socks. There just isn't. You can try to do it standing up and you just stumble across the floor. Turn your back and sit on the bed and she behaves like you're ignoring her. I did both and all the while she laughed at my efforts. I know I said that I love to make a woman laugh, but this was not one of those times.

Finally! I turned to face her and slipped my boxers to the floor. Her smile suggested she approved, and I climbed under the sheet and blanket alongside her.

I took her in my arms pulling her body close to mine and we began the slow, wonderful progression toward intimacy. She was nearly a virgin, but she was very much a sexual being. Years of denial and loneliness gave way to her desire, and she revealed herself to be an eager and loving partner as we kissed and stroked and fondled our way toward unity. Slowly, lovingly, and without reservation or uncertainty of any kind, we made love until we were exhausted and my seed was planted deep within her womb.

I know that at our age there would be no pregnancy and no progeny. That didn't matter. For now, and as long into the future as the fates allowed, we would share our bodies and souls as we gave them to no one else. She would carry my seed and I would do all that I could to protect her and shield her from harm.

The months ahead were rewarding and ultimately painful. When we weren't working, we would travel together fulfilling the ambitions of her own personal bucket list as we grew closer together, sleeping beside one another, sharing our love and pleasure. I would meet her family and be welcomed by them, and I would stand alongside that same family as we said goodbye when she lost her final battle to cancer.