Georgia-- aka Heaven Ch. 03

I could contain myself no longer. Kiefer's hands resting on my head, I slightly shifted position and trapped his cock between my cheek and his belly. I hesitated to move--the moment felt so exquisite. But I did move at last and encircled his cock with my right palm. My lips caressed the head, the tip of my tongue parted the tiny fissure at the tip of his cock. I savored his taste, his smell. The smooth hardness beckoned me, and I held Kiefer's cock up and still as I caressed my right cheek with its throbbing underside, gently sliding my head up and down. As I turned my head to resume the lapping of my tongue, Kiefer's hands left my head and came to my upper arms.

He pulled me up along his body in a smooth movement, my face suddenly close to his own, belly to belly, heat to heat. The urgency was clear. When I visually expressed my desire to return to my former position, Kiefer's eyes blinked no as his hands slid down from my arms to grasp my buttocks again. He pressed my body close to his and his lips sought mine. I felt his tongue probing, seeking entrance into my mouth. My lips readily parted and our tongues began a slow, measured dance. My body rocked up and down, Kiefer's pliant and yielding body matching the movements of my own.

Again, I felt as if I might explode, all of my senses overfed, my mind blurred, my movements blurred, and Kiefer's tongue reaching for and attaining, apparently, my innermost center. Metaphysically, I was intermeshed with Kiefer's being. Physically, I felt myself being lifted and shifted as Kiefer suddenly disengaged his mouth from mine and sat up, pulling my legs up until I again rested on my knees. In a wink, Kiefer leaned back against the headboard in a semi-upright position, his eyes boring into my face, insistent and intent. My body rested not an inch below his hard on, my own readiness revealed by the glistening of juices smeared on my inner thighs and Kiefer's lower body. His hands went to my hips, gripping tightly, raising me slightly, urging me forward to mount him.

With eyes still interlocked, I managed to move the short distance, shaking in anticipation. Somehow my arms managed to hold me up as I allowed Kiefer to guide himself slowly into me. I inhaled deeply and my head went back as I slid down on him and the breath left my body in a long, slow hissing sound. Oh, god. Had it ever felt this good? Ever felt as if my very center were being touched?

We rocked slowly, at times my chin on Kiefer's head, at times staring at one another. Overwhelmed with emotion, I succumbed to Kiefer's touch, his direction, as he moved my body in the rhythm he needed, clasping my buttocks and digging his fingers into the flesh. Our slow-paced rocking movement eventually gave way to a sharp, bucking motion, still guided by Kiefer's grip on my buttocks. As my head bobbed forward and back, the back of his locked onto the headboard and he sucked his bottom lip into his mouth. Shortly, Kiefer's face found its way between my breasts for only seconds before it shot back to the headboard and his arms fiercely clamped my body holding me still as he rode into me from underneath. His throbbing cock found its way even more deeply inside me, but more intense than this was the feeling that he'd somehow penetrated a core that had never been penetrated before. And still, there were those eyes, seemingly pledged to mine as he emptied his load into me, thrusting deep, and yet deep again.

I was wilted. Limp. It wasn't my emotions that made me sink my cheek to his chest, but physical exhaustion. He'd said it would be fast. Quick, this time. If this were fast, oh, god, what would the slow burn be like? Could I bear it? I stayed motionless for what seemed ages. Kiefer, too, was non-moving. Our breathing slowed, lazily, from quick, short, belabored bursts to long, measured intakes.

After our breathing returned to a more normal rate, Kiefer, whose arms were still around me, tightened his grasp and pulled me to him. The slight upward movement expelled our mingled secretions from my body and the delicious, hot liquid dribbled down both inner thighs. Funny. I'd thought to hold on to that forever. Keep this part of him inside me, deep, safe. And for the third time this morning I was conscious of not feeling embarrassed in circumstances that sometimes are.

I pulled up from Kiefer's chest, settling back onto knees. I stared down. His eyes were closed, and I had an opportunity to study his face, to memorize this moment, this look. The fuzzy stubble, the thick, long lashes, the square jawline, the slightly pouty lips. When his eyes opened, they were neither clearly blue nor green, but a bewitching cross between.

As his eyes sought mine, he smiled. An audible, slow breath escaped his mouth. He looked content. I hoped my expression conveyed the same to him. I reached my hand up to cup his right cheek and, as I had done to him before, he turned his lips to kiss my palm.

"Feelin' sticky?" he chuckled.

"Uh huh," I nodded.

"I'll get us a towel," I continued, and I raised myself up and over him, exiting the bed on what I now considered "his" side. When I returned, Kiefer's eyes were again closed and a faint smile played on his lips. I'd been gone three or four minutes, taking advantage of an opportunity to both pee and clean up a bit. He was not asleep, but rested peacefully. I'd brought a warm, wet cloth and a towel. As I crawled onto the bed and knelt beside him, his eyes opened. I was about to wash him, making movements to begin, but he took the cloth from me and began to slowly wipe himself clean. It was an intimate moment, watching this man smooth the cloth over his most private places, holding his near-soft cock up towards his belly as he cleaned below. Then his left hand went to his balls, lifting those as he swathed this area as well. When he tossed the cloth to the floor, I presented the towel and he dried himself off quickly. His eyes monitored his progress while completing the task and again I'd been allowed the opportunity to observe his face. I was enchanted.

Kiefer tossed the towel and at the same time I exited the bed, walked around the end, and sat down on the other side, facing the cart Del had brought earlier.

"You hungry?" I finally formed words.

No response.

I rolled back and onto my left side, reaching out my arm and lightly running my palm over Kiefer's chest. My head tilted upward to look at his face in an attempt to gather information.

He smiled, but offered no words. I returned to my former sitting position and opened two of the silver-domed dishes, nesting one of the domes over the other on the bottom shelf of the cart. One plate held mounds of sausage and bacon. Another held scrambled eggs. Toast was found nestling on a plate under a third shiny dome. I quickly placed several pieces of bacon on a piece of toast and folded the toast over. I rolled over and proffered the half-sandwich to Kiefer.

His right hand reached for the sandwich and he slowly bit into it, chewed, and swallowed. He was taking his second bite when I turned back to the cart.

"More coffee?" I asked. "Or, perhaps some juice. There's some here. Looks like orange juice."

I turned to look at him. He continued to chew, evidently his last bite, his eyes trained on my movements. He shook his head up and down.

"Okay." I paused, waiting for his choice. "Which one?" I finally had to ask.

He looked confused.

"Which beverage, silly?" Pause. "Coffee or juice?"

He rumbled the word juice.

As I turned my attention back to the cart to pour juice, I felt Kiefer's hand on my back. My eyes involuntarily shut. I experienced a sharp intake of breath. That touch. I felt dizzy. Keep your hands steady, I thought. Don't spill the juice.

Eventually, I filled a glass and turned to hand it to Kiefer. I wish I'd been able to keep his hand on my back. It was not to be though. But as I lamented the loss of his hand's touch, it quickly came up to rest on my cheek. Oh. Was I shaking my head right there before him? Was I making the 'oh' noise? No matter. I felt no embarrassment. I inclined my head closer to his hand, kissing the air with my lips as I looked into his eyes. A smile spread across his face.

Kiefer inhaled a deep, deep breath. He was in no hurry. No hurry to speak. No hurry, apparently, to take the glass from my hand. He just looked at me, hand still on my cheek. He finally spoke.

"You gonna drink that juice, or let me have it?"

My eyebrow went up. He was playing. I followed suit.

"I'm gonna let you have it. And it won't be this juice."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah," I challenged.

I put the glass back on the cart and searched for a weapon. The toast was buttered. I grabbed a piece, turned, and moved towards Kiefer, placing the toast buttered-side down on his chest, smearing it into the thick hair. I watched his eyes the whole time, and they were huge and round as he grabbed my wrist to stop the movement of the toast. He exerted enough pressure to make me squeal and release the now soggy bread. He scooped up the messy lump into his palm and abruptly squashed it to my upper chest between my collarbones. Kiefer's grin widened. I pulled away, the lump falling to the sheets, and grabbed for more ammunition. This time it was a handful of still warm scrambled eggs. As I turned again to face him, Kiefer's head began shaking to and fro.

"No you don't," he defied me. "You'd better not do that!"

Before the last word was out I'd slapped the eggs onto his belly, in and all around his navel. He burst into laughter and grabbed my shoulders.

"I oughta make you eat those," he chuckled and slid one hand up to my head, forcing it in the direction of the pile of eggs.

It looked pretty inviting to me, so I allowed my head to be guided and soon my parted lips sucked up a bite of the eggs. Then another. Kiefer really started laughing hard then, the eggs bouncing up and down as his tummy moved in and out. We both sat watching the dance of the scrambled eggs which made us both laugh even more. Suddenly, in the midst of this hearty laughter, we grew silent, catching our breath.

It was a good silence--not the kind of silence that becomes uncomfortable when with someone you don't know very well. The silence, however, was short-lived--died with a knock on the door.

"Kiefer," came a muffled voice. "It's Tom. Lemme in."

Kiefer's expression changed to one of perplexity. He tilted his head for a second, then he vacated the bed and went quickly to the door--heedless of his naked state--unbolting it and opening it in one smooth progression. I scurried to pull the sheet up and over me.

Tommy stood there in the doorway, looking anxious, apparently unruffled by Kiefer's lack of clothing. Kiefer took his arm and ushered him into the room, closing the door.

"Mom's looking for you." It was delivered as a grave pronouncement. "You'd better come!"

Kiefer's eyes closed to a near squint and his lips curled with mischief.

"Just did, brother," Kiefer delivered the words and slapped Tom on the shoulder. He turned to me as he finished and I gave him what I hoped was a menacing look.

Nervously, Tom glanced at me, then returned his gaze to his brother.

"I'm not kidding, Kie. She's looking for you." He paused, glanced my way yet again.

Kiefer's face became serious.

"Tommy, I already owe you a pounding. You're the one responsible for the never-ending charades game last night." Kiefer did proceed to smack Tom several times on the upper arm with a fisted hand.

"Now you come here this morning and tell me Mom's lookin' for me. Are you determined to piss me off?"

"I . . . I . . . " Tom stumbled. No wonder. Poor man. Kiefer's chest was shiny with margarine, the chest and belly hair neatly holding bits of scrambled egg. He was a mess, and I was certain I might have vestiges of egg on my face.

"Look, bro. I was just warning you, that's all." And Tom looked earnestly into Kiefer's eyes.

Kiefer relented. He smiled that lopsided smile and rubbed his right palm up and down Tom's arm.

"I know. I know. Thanks." While delivering these words, Kiefer was opening the door and guiding Tom through it into the hallway. Tommy looked questioningly at Kiefer still. I couldn't see Kiefer's face any longer though.

"I got it, Tommy. I'll be there soon." And with that the door closed and Kiefer turned to me, shaking his head.

"What?" I asked.

He continued shaking his head as he spoke.

"Maybe we could put some bacon around my ears and some more eggs in my belly button and I could pass for an omelette. Escape. Get outta Dodge."

My smile must have been a quarter of a mile wide. My belly caved inward as I sucked in my breath in erupting laughter.

"C'mere. I'll put bacon on your ears! I'll put some bacon in some other places, too!"

Kiefer's body sprang into a running dive and he landed in the middle of the bed, jerking the sheet down. The upper half of his body draped over my lower half, smearing the greasy mess all over me. I had no idea what the maid would think when she observed the disorder in this room. Kiefer leaned up onto his elbows and began to lick my tummy. I giggled because it tickled. Because it tickled and because I was giddy. Because I was giddy and because it felt so good to be so close to him.

He sat up on his knees, one hand on my thigh, one on my forearm.

"Watcha thinkin'" he inquired.

I smiled at him before I answered.

"I'm thinking that I feel good. Feel comfortable." I bit my lower lip as I finished. I hoped he might feel the same way, too.

He didn't respond verbally, but the near-shy up and down movement of his head communicated that he had similar feelings.

We looked at one another for half a minute. I wanted to say something, but wasn't really sure what. Thanks seemed too little. God this has been fucking fantastic seemed too much. As I struggled with just the right words to say, Kiefer spoke.

"I'm comfortable, too. Comfortable with you." He glanced down, then back up.

Before speaking again, his tongue slipped out between his lips and he licked the left corner of his mouth. He swallowed.

Deep breath.

"It's good we waited. I mean . . . waited for this."

"Kiefer, I don't think waiting since last night is all that big a thing!" I laughed.

He looked puzzled briefly and then continued.

"No, no. Not since last night. I mean . . . I mean I'm glad we didn't do this years ago."

My face must have registered some form of wicked merriment, for Kiefer clammered to make himself clearer.

"No, I don't mean . . ." he offered, frustrated.

"Too late, boy-o. You just hurt my feelings. I'll make you think you're glad we didn't do this years ago!" I yelled. I lightly slapped the side of his head. "So bad, was it," I continued, "that now you wish we hadn't done it?"

Kiefer smiled at my mock anger, took my hand in his.

"We're a mess, aren't we?" he stated, his eyes traveling the length of my body, then surveying his own.

"Yeah, we are. You particularly," I said as I traced the fingertip of my other hand down his chest. "You'd better hit the shower, omelette-boy! Shirley's gonna 9-1-1 if you don't show your face soon."

Kiefer let go of my hand and cupped my face in both of his. When he let go, he rose on his knees and gave a smart salute.

"On my way, sir. To the shower!"

He jumped over me and out of bed, but stopped and turned around, lowering himself to his knees on the floor beside the bed. I inclined my head to him, thinking he'd remembered some unsaid thing. I was wrong. Very wrong.

Kiefer must have spied, or stepped on, some of the egg-y mixture on the floor as he headed to the bathroom. Suddenly, his hand came up over the edge of the bed and delivered a near-handful of the now cold, rubbery eggs to my belly. I screamed obscenities at him as he rubbed the gross mixture into my skin.

Out of breath with laughter, Kiefer finally ceased his icky massage.

"You are an ass, do you hear me?" I wagged my finger in his face.

"Uh huh. I hear you." He stood and turned, making his way to the bathroom door. He looked over his shoulder at me, that cocky grin on his face.

"And I suppose later on you'll be wanting to spank me for being such a bad boy, eh?" And he winked before entering the bathroom.

My body went limp. He was teasing me. Or was he daring me. Or was he letting me know that later on my suddenly tingling palm might make contact with that decidedly firm rump? My imagination ran wild. I tried to keep it in check. As I heard the water turn on in the bathroom, I brought my mind's focus back to the present. What a wonderful evening last night. What a wonderful morning so far. Whatever the rest of the day held, whatever the future held, I had these memories safely tucked inside my heart's vault.