Nephew No More?

"Put your dirty clothes outside the door. I'll toss them in the washer. I'm sure I can find something in He-Who-Shall-Be Named's stuff that you can throw on."

"I guess." He was obviously a little reluctant, but decided to go with the plan.

When Jerry tossed out his dirty clothes, Micky opened the bathroom door a few inches and tossed in one of her Ex's pajama bottoms. Ex had a bigger waist. That would mean they would drop more easily to the floor,

"Sorry, this is all I could find," she yelled to Jerry, so he could hear her over the sound of the shower.

"It is what it is," he yelled back.

She returned to her bedroom and dried and brushed her hair.

She was leaning back on the wall across from the bathroom door when he stepped out.

She had pulled the flannel off her right shoulder, exposing almost all of her right breast. She had her right knee raised, her foot resting on the wall.

"Coffee?" was all he could manage to say.

"No coffee, Jerry." She stared into his eyes.

"Then what?" He raised his hands, palms outstretched to show his confusion.

Micky hesitated. This was the moment when it all could blow up in her face and leave her racked with shame.

"To the place we've been moving toward. To where I want to go, and I hope you do too." Her voice was not sultry or sexy. It was simply soft, almost a whisper.

He stood their motionless. The expression on his face was unreadable.

Micky felt the moment was a narrow rope bridge across a crevasse. Would they make it across or fall? Would Dr. Jerry, literature scholar, find such a metaphor to be pathetic?

His mouth started to move. The words weren't forming yet.

"I-I thought I was just seeing what I wanted to believe. What I wanted to be real. I-"

Micky didn't let him finish. He had said enough. She let her shirt drop from her shoulders to the floor.

A second later, He let the loose pajama bottoms fall and stepped out of them.

She threw her arms around his neck, her breasts pressed to his chest, her left leg wrapped around the back of his thighs to draw him so close, her mouth and tongue giving him the kisses that had always been implied.

His hands caressed her buttocks and he began to lift her. With her left arm around his neck she helped, wrapped her other leg around his waist. She reached down with her right hand and guided his cock to her opening and slide her hips down until he filled her.

As he stumbled toward the bedroom, they pulled back from their passionate kissing. They were both smiling, almost laughing. She pressed her cheek against his.

It was awkward, but he managed to stand with his back to the bed and lower himself down. Her lower legs straddled him and she slowly moved up and down, gently riding him. She wanted this to last.

His hands came to her breasts. He massaged them with his palms. His fingertips traced her areola, tugged lightly on her nipples. She lowered herself, bringing one breast, then the other to be sucked and licked until her sensitive hard nipples could take no more.

She lifted herself off his cock and spun around, crouched with spread knees perpendicular to him. She leaned over and took his cock in her mouth. Her fingers moved lightly up and down his shaft as her tongue swirled around the head , flicked at the ridge. Soon her head was bobbing up and down, taking more and more of him into her mouth or pulling back to lap his shaft with his tongue.

She reached back to slide two fingers of her right hand into her pussy. When they emerged slick and slippery, she brought them to his anus. With one finger she circled his rim, teasing the outer sphincter muscle before slipping in the tip, pressing past the inner muscle, slowly pressing deeper into his rectum. Still sucking his cock, lashing him with her tongue. She slowly drew the first finger back, and when she inserted it again it was joined by the second finger. She spread and eased her fingers again and again to caress his muscles. Her fingertips massaged his prostate. His moans told her of his pleasure.

And then she pulled back, withdrawing her mouth and fingers. He didn't want him to cum yet.

She flopped back on her back with her legs spread wide.

What will he do now? Micky thought. Would he enter her again? Or would she feel his lips and tongue on her newly shaved pussy? Either choice would be beautiful. There was no right or wrong choice. She closed her eyes.

She felt a sucking kiss, a nibble on her left inner thigh. He dragged his lips across her labia to her other thigh. Kissing, sucking, nibbling. Back and forth again and again, teasing her.

Then his lips were surrounding one labia, sucking it into his mouth, tugging it gently, then the other. She softly moaned. So aroused.

When his tongue found her opening and pressed in to savor her slick juices, she reached down with both hands to pull back her outer lips, release her clitoris from its hood. He lapped her slit with the flat of his tongue. Two. Three. Four times. The tip of his tongue circled her clitoris, brushed against its sides, over and over again. His lips surrounded her clit and sucked hard. She thrust her hips, panting, moaning, on the verge of a huge orgasm. Then she was arching her back, her legs trembling as it surged through her.

She released her spread lips and gently pushed his head away from her sex. Her clit was too sensitive to take any more.

How long had he gone down or her? Twenty minutes, a half hour? His tongue and jaw must be exhausted, Micky thought.

Then his lips were on hers. They shared gentle kisses as he lightly caressed one of her breasts, then the other.

Micky could feel his cock, still fully hard pressing against her leg. In the drawer of the bedside table was the anal lube she had bought yesterday. In the scenario she had pictured yesterday, she would have asked him to fuck her up the ass. But now that seemed too crass, too much a slap in Sarah's face. And too likely to bring him back to that painful memory.

Micky felt so loved, and hoped that he felt loved as deeply as she did. As intimate as sex was, you were still never totally in the other's heart or head.

"I want you inside me. I want you to cum inside me," Micky whispered in Jerry's ear.

"I want to be inside you. I want to cum inside you," was his answer.

When his cock entered her, for Micky it wasn't penetration. It was feeling that her entrance and her inner walls were being caressed. His hands were on her breasts, cupping them, massaging them. He lowered himself to suck them. Her fingers brushed across his nipples.

When passion surged within them, when his thrusts became harder, faster, she lifted her hips to meet them; her nails raked up and down his back. She felt the throbs of his cock as his cum jetted into her. That heat, that almost fierceness, to Micky was an expression of their hunger for each other.

They lay exhausted, dripping with sweat. Both stared at the ceiling, smiles on their faces.

"Two thoughts," Micky said. "Actually sort of commands."

"Oh, really?" Jerry laughed. "Are you going to tell me to take out the garbage?"

Micky reached over and punched him in the arm.

"Ouch. That hurt."

Micky ignored his mock pain. "My first command is that you will call in sick to work this night."

"I take it you have some plans for me," Jerry said. "As long as there are no whips or paddles involved, missing a night of work is doable."

"Second," Micky continued, "After a little rest and another shower, we need to get dressed. I want to take you out for ice cream."

"A weird kink?" Jerry gave an expression of mock horror.

"Maybe in a way," she said.

"Well, ice cream is always a doable, so I'm there."

Micky kept her last thought to herself-"A lover is someone you take out for ice cream."