Seeing Stars

She laughed and dropped her eyes, clearly embarrassed. "Wow, I've been called a lot of things, but never a treasure."

I reached out and touched her soft hair, letting my hand come to rest on her cheek. It was warm against my palm, and I felt an almost overwhelming affection for her, a strange desire to tell her just how fantastic she was, to detail her every charm.

"Well, you are," I said simply. I let my hand drop and for a second she just looked at me like she was trying to decide whether to believe me or not. Then she leaned down and kissed me lightly on the lips.

"You're a silly romantic," she said. Her expression was serious for just a half a second, and then she smiled. "I like that."

She kissed me again, more softly and sustained, and for a long few minutes we lay naked together, kissing and touching each other gently. For a second, my mind flashed back to the vision of her on her knees, looking back at me over her shoulder, grinning, wanting me inside her, and I groaned as a rush of excitement swept through me.

She broke the kiss and smiled at me, like she could read my thoughts. Then she snuggled down against my side, putting her head on my chest and we were both quiet for a while. My reeling mind slowed enough to let me review the things that had happened, and I marveled at how fantastic it had all been, how over the top. I'd gone from a twenty-six year, more or less sexless marriage to this—this explosion of sensual delight. Stella had roared through my evening like a comet, searing the sky with her energy and enthusiasm. She'd nearly worn me out.

I realized I'd stopped questioning the reality of the whole situation; it was undeniably real. I could feel it in the ache of my muscles, the stickiness of my skin, and the tingling pleasure that wrapped my whole body. I felt warm and sleepy and better than I'd felt in years. The heat of Stella's body against mine was a sensation I thought I could never get enough of; it just felt so right.

"Are you falling asleep?" Stella lifted her head and looked at me. A moment later she shifted her body, sliding on top of me, her thighs parting as she settled herself over my hips easily.

"Because we're not done yet," she said. She narrowed her eyes and put her hands on her hips, scrutinizing me, giving me a most disapproving look. "You're not tired are you?"

Her expression and posture was so serious it made me laugh. "No, no, not at all," I said, judging by her exaggerated attitude that this was the correct answer.

"We can take a break if you want, but there's a lot of work to do, mister. We have years and years of sex to catch you up on. Things to do!

"I suspect there's a very dirty-minded man somewhere in there." She laid a finger on my forehead and dragged it down my nose, letting it land on my mouth. "I saw a glimpse of him when you turned me over to fuck me from behind, but I bet he's still waiting to make his debut."

I was going to reply, but she leaned close suddenly and took my face in her hands. She lifted my head and put her lips on mine, her big brown eyes wide and close. Her voice was all sex then, pure suggestion. "I'm dying to meet him, Eliot."

She kissed me then, softly, with an open mouth that was hot and wet and inviting. It was a slow kiss, in no hurry to reach the finish, and I relaxed into it, savoring her touch. I felt the tiredness in my body, but I had no doubt she could make me forget it. I wasn't sure how I'd keep up with her, but I was willing to try; I was dying to meeting this dirty-minded man myself.