Wrapture

It was the morning of Valentine's Day and Stan was the man, with a plan. No question.

Stan and Chardonnay had fallen into one of those time-warp traps that couples often find themselves caught up in. Chardonnay was an executive chef at a popular restaurant in town, while Stan spent his days operating a funky coffeehouse near the university. In their mid-30s, they were the proud parents of two boys, now in elementary school.

The problem was, Chardonnay worked mostly evenings, Stan always days. He dropped the kids off at school in the morning on his way to work; Chardonnay picked them up on her way to work and dropped them at a sitter's until Stan picked them up after work. Chardonnay had Sunday and Monday off and Stan, Friday and Saturday. Virtually anybody could see this wasn't a good situation.

So life, as the pair knew it, had come to revolve around the drudgery of driving the kids to school and home, going to and from work, sleeping and eating separately most of the time... And on, and on... In recent months, a quick peck on the cheek or quick cuddle was about all the affection they could muster.

Worse yet, Chardonnay was, of course, working the evening of Valentine's Day. And, leading up to what many couples consider "a big day," she had been busier than ever with restaurant, menu and wine list preparations – all so customers could enjoy their dinner and evening in style.

For his part, Stan had been busy at the coffeehouse, brewing Valentine's Blend coffee, stocking the cooler with heart-shaped cookies and decorating the premises with hearts and streamers of red and white. But, a couple of days before the big day, as he eyed his decorations, he fell into a funk and was quite depressed by the fact he and Chardonnay wouldn't be celebrating the day with everyone else. Daydreaming, he had caught himself checking out the tight asses and lithe bodies of a couple of the university students who worked for him.

In the midst of mentally undressing Jeannie as she leaned over the counter to take a customer's cash, he realized things had gotten out of hand between he and Chardonnay. Way out of hand. And so, mentally tearing his eyes off busty Jeannie, he worked out what he came to think of as Stan's Valentine's Plan. With a little shopping, he procured a few select items that he intended to use to make Chardonnay's Valentine's Day special. He stashed his goodies in the garage in preparation.

On the morning of the big day, Stan awoke to his alarm clock as always and felt Chardonnay's warmth beside him. After working late and then watching some TV as she always did, she wasn't ready to join the world. But Stan, as always, kissed her lightly. Chardonnay kissed back in her sleep and, as she opened her mouth slightly, Stan slid his tongue in. Their tongues met briefly and Chardonnay, still asleep really, moaned quietly. Stan felt himself stiffen at the sound.

After dropping the kids at school, Stan put in a half day at the coffeehouse before leaving Jeannie in charge. Yes, today was going to be different, he thought to himself. Today, while at work, all he had thought about was Chardonnay's body, never mind Jeannie's or Lynn's.

Five foot ten like he was, with fiery red hair she wore up when working, Chardonnay had never seemed to realize just how awesome her body was. Much of her height was due to her long, shapely legs, which, in the past, had regularly been wrapped around Stan.

She complained of being fat, like most women, but Stan didn't go for skeletal women; he liked them full-bodied, like Kim Basinger. Like Chardonnay. And, when not covered by the baggy sweatshirts she preferred around the house, or her chef's uniform at work, her breasts, Stan had always thought, were perfection. When they had started dating, he had just had to sneak into her underwear drawer to try and find out what size of bra she wore. He'd been too shy to ask her what size she was way back then, but he was thrilled when he found an unopened bra package which stated what he had suspected, in black and white; that the contents were for a woman of 40C size (Chardonnay, on the other hand, was not as shy and it was not long after they had first made love that she had laughingly pulled out a ruler to measure Stan's nine inches.

Stan drove home, then quickly cruised the house, cleaning up, chucking junk in closets or drawers, doing the dishes. He went into the garage and got his bag of goodies and took it into the kitchen. At 4 p.m., he drove to the sitter's home, picked up the boys and, as he had arranged with his sister Liz, dropped them at her place for a sleepover with uncle and auntie. Then it was back home.

Chardonnay wouldn't be home until after 11 p.m. so he had some time to prepare. He pulled out her cookbooks and found what he wanted; a recipe for chocolate sauce, made with real cocoa, cane sugar, cream and peppermint schnapps. He made a batch and set it aside, then cut up bananas, pineapple and pears for dipping. From the basement, he selected a bottle of champagne and put it in the fridge to chill. Heading for the living room, he pulled out Cheryl Fisher and Diana Krall CDs and loaded them into the player. Several trips between kitchen and living room ensured the volume was just right.

Finally, Stan thought, all was ready. He hit the couch, quaffed a beer and watched a hockey game.

It was about 11:30 p.m. when Stan heard Chardonnay's key in the lock. He hurried to the CD player, turned it on, then rushed to the door.

"Hey, babe." Chardonnay was obviously surprised to see Stan. He was almost always in bed by the time she got home from work. "Still up?"

"Yup," said Stan as he watched her take off her coat. "Thought I'd stay up for a change and surprise you." Stan noticed that Chardonnay's face was a little flushed, as it sometimes was after a particularly hectic night in the kitchen. She also appeared hyped after a successful night of making others' enjoyment possible.

"Awww, that's sweet. You didn't have to do that."

"Hey," he said, "why should it only be everybody else who gets to celebrate Valentine's Day?"

"That's true. The restaurant was packed tonight. Nothing but couples looking into each other's eyes. The lamb kebobs, crab cakes, and all the chocolate desserts were a big hit."

"Of course they were, babe. You made it all possible. You're the best. That's why people go to The Castle."

Coat off, Stan took Chardonnay's hand (isn't that a great name for a chef?) and led her to the kitchen. Reaching into the fridge, he pulled out the champagne and popped the cork. Then, pouring a couple of glasses of the cold bubbly, he handed one to Chardonnay and took one himself. "To us," he said. They clinked glasses and Stan took her in his arms. Chardonnay buried her face in his neck and, with Diana Krall in the background, they swayed gently together.

"Mmmm. This is nice," she mumbled. Pulling away a little, she took a long drink of champagne. Then, looking into Stan's eyes, she smiled and said, "Hi, we haven't seen much of each other lately."

"Hi. You're right, we haven't," he said, taking a drink.

"Are the kids okay?" asked Chardonnay, slightly spoiling the mood.

"They're fine. I took them to Liz's to sleep over. We have the place to ourselves for a change."

"Really? That is a change." She looked into his eyes again. "That' a really nice surprise."

"I thought it might be. Now," said Stan. "You just leave everything to me. You've had a hard night at work and I have a couple of surprises for you."

"Sounds intriguing."

"First," he said, "I have a little taste test for you. Close your eyes."

Chardonnay closed her eyes and Stan reached into a nearby drawer. Pulling out a red silk scarf he had purchased, he put it over her eyes and tied it behind her head.

"Oh my," she breathed. "What's this all about?"

"You'll see." Taking the bowl of chocolate schnapps sauce out of a cupboard, he held it close to her face. "Recognize this?"

"Why yes, that's one of my all-time favourites." Giggling, she said, "don't tell me you've been busy in my kitchen."

"Why yes, I thought I'd give you a break."

Stan then pulled out the bowl of cut fruit. Putting an arm around her, he dipped a piece of banana into the sauce. "Open wide now." As Chardonnay parted her lips, Stan eased the morsel into her mouth.

"Mmmmm. I'd have added more cocoa, but it's very tasty Stan. You do good work for a rookie."

"Shhh." Stan took some pineapple, dipped it and told her to open wide again. Chardonnay did so, and a little juice dribbled down her chin. Stan moved close and licked the juice from her skin, tasting a heady mixture of pineapple, chocolate and Chardonnay. Next came some pear, then a couple more pieces of drenched fruit. Any juice that left Chardonnay's lips, Stan licked up. After several pieces, he realized she was dripping the juice on purpose. Watching her mouthing the morsels stirred Stan's cock to hardness.

As Chardonnay pushed her hips into Stan's, he pulled back and said, "now I have something else for you."

She took a drink of champagne. "All right. Whatever you want, Stan."

Needing no further encouragement, and taking her by the hips, Stan guided her a couple of steps to the front of the refrigerator. He then pushed against her, pressing her against the metal as he kissed her deeply. Mouths open, they explored with their tongues, tasting each other, the champagne, the fruit, the sauce. "Mmmmm," Chardonnay moaned into Stan's open mouth.

"I know," moaned Stan back. Pushing against her against the fridge, Stan's hardness pressed against Chardonnay. Feeling his hard cock against her for the first time in weeks, she smiled and pushed her hips against him, then put her arms around him and held him tightly. Holding him tightly, and crushing her hips against him, she felt desire course through her body.

Stan, feeling her press against him, knew it was time for part two of Stan's Plan.

With Chardonnay still blindfolded, Stan ran his hands down her body. He lightly brushed her breasts through her blouse, traced the curve of her hips, then ran a hand down each leg. On his knees in front of her, he pulled the blouse out of her skirt and licked into her belly button. Chardonnay moaned.

Then, reaching to the sides of the fridge at the bottom, Stan took in hand the ends of a long, wide piece of red silk he had placed around the unit earlier. Standing, he pulled the silk, which ran in behind the fridge, up the sides. In front of Chardonnay, he looped the material around her waist a couple of time, so it met in front. There, he tied a large knot, effectively restraining her to the fridge.

"Oh my, Stan. Just what have you got in mind?"

"Oh, nothing, really. No big deal. I just want to keep you in one place for awhile."

"Hmmm. Well, I guess I'm all yours."

"And that's just how I wanted it."

Stan now pulled a box of chocolates from another cupboard and placed one between the blindfolded Chardonnay's lips. As she munched it, he wrapped another piece of red silk around one of her wrists. Holding her arm to the side, he tied the other end of the silk to a cupboard handle. He then took the champagne flute from her and repeated the procedure.

A little apprehensive now, Chardonnay asked, "Oh my God, Stan, what are you doing?"

Stepping back to look at his handiwork, and the spread-eagled Chardonnay before him, Stan said, "Just trying to celebrate Valentine's different this year, babe."

Chardonnay tensed against the ties at her wrists and waist. "Well, sweetie, this is certainly different."

With that, Stan took off his shirt, boxers, jeans and socks and tossed them aside. With his cock swinging free, he stepped around the corner of the kitchen and turned up the thermostat. The furnace obliged by starting up immediately.

Stepping back in front of his wife, Stan pressed his now-naked body against her and kissed her.

Pressing back, Chardonnay whispered, "But Stan, I can't touch or hold you."

"I know," he whispered back. "Just relax."

He placed another chocolate between her lips and unbuttoned her white blouse to bare the black bra beneath. Then, kneeling before her, he unbuttoned her black skirt at the waist, undid the side zipper and slid it down her legs over her stockings and off. Running his hands over her long legs, he moved back up to her waist, took her black panties in hand and slowly slid them down. As she stepped out of them, Stan guided her feet well apart.

The cold metal of the refrigerator on her bum sent a shiver through Chardonnay's body; along with a thrill as the air caressed her now-damp pussy. She had never felt as helpless and naked as at this moment. And she was thankful it was Stan who was the cause of the feelings running through her. She was horny and becoming wetter, but, tied, there was nothing she could do about it.

Stan tilted the champagne bottle to her lips and Chardonnay sipped. Then he kissed her and they teased each other's tongues. Stan pressed against her so his cock pushed against her skin. She felt the heat radiating from him and felt flushed all over herself. As Stan cupped her breasts in his hands, she felt a sense of supplication. She simply leaned against the fridge and, as there was nothing she could do, or anywhere she could move, she simply stood and relaxed.

Stan took a swig from the bottle himself, set it aside, then pulled the bra under Chardonnay's breasts. Freed, her nipples thrusting out, her large, firm breasts were covered in goosebumps. Standing before her, Stan fondled her; squeezing, kneading, feeling the heft of her breasts. Running his hands over her body, Stan fingered her belly button, moved around to cup her bum cheeks and squeeze, then moved back to run his fingers through fine, red pubic hair. Looking down at her body, Stan believed he'd never been harder in his life, nor produced more pre-cum.

Chardonnay gasped as he neared her pussy, a little surprised at the searing want that pulsed through her, and pushed toward him. "My God, Stan. Touch me, please."

"Not yet, babe. Not quite yet."

Reaching for the warm chocolate sauce, Stan slowly coated one firm nipple then the other, as Chardonnay squirmed in pleasure. He then bent to lick the chocolate from her, stroking himself with one hand as he did so. As he licked her, Chardonnay moaned loudly, now thoroughly aroused and more than happy the boys weren't home. Even as Stan lovingly licked and slurped at her breasts, she couldn't help but imagine the embarrassment of them walking in on this kitchen scene. Each lick, though, seemed to send a pulse to her pussy.

Stan sensed this and, kneeling with the bowl of sauce, gently applied the tasty concoction to the pussy before him. As he spread it over Chardonnay's lips, then clit, she bucked against his hand, burning with desire, moaning. Stan squatted, cock and balls hanging in the air, and moved in to lick away the gooey goodness, running his tongue over her lips, through the chocolate, suckling her clit. Chardonnay pushed herself against his mouth, relishing his tongue, wanting to be penetrated. Stan dripped pre-cum to the floor as he worked, rock hard and balls swaying.

As Chardonnay's moaning came louder and faster, Stan licked quickly, caressing her pussy, dipping his tongue into her well, touching the nub of her clit. He could tell by the way she pushed at him that she wanted his cock and so, after she pushed against his mouth, calling, "fuck me, Stan, fuck me," he had to oblige.

Standing, Stan stood to look at Chardonnay and noticed a little sweat between her breasts. He licked it, kissed her, then pressed close to her.

"Do you want me now?" he whispered into a perfectly shaped ear.

"Ohhhh, yessss. Yessss. Fuck me, Stan, fuck me. Please."

As always, Stan couldn't say no to her, so he moved close and, with his feet, spread her feet wide on the tile floor. Putting his arms around her, pulling her away from the metal of the fridge, Stan touched the head of his cock to her lips and felt the dampness there. Lowering himself a little, he eased into her pussy, her wetness allowing him to glide slowly, deeply, into her body.

Moaning in unison, Stan plunged into Chardonnay and she pressed against him to meet his thrust. Fully inside her, feeling the heat between their bodies, they kissed. They hadn't fucked for some time and neither felt they could last too long.

"Fuck me, Stan. Hurry. Hurry," gasped Chardonnay.

Holding her tightly, Stan fucked her, slowly, easing himself in and out of her body. He went in deeply, then pulled out so just his head was between her sweet lips. As he fucked her, Chardonnay met his thrusts and they built a slow rhythm.

Stan, feeling orgasm approach, picked up his pace, fucking her harder, quicker, hearing their juices squishing together. Chardonnay moaned more loudly yet, and also felt orgasm approaching.

At the end of one of Stan's plunges, Chardonnay pushed back against the refrigerator and, in one quick motion, lifted her legs and wrapped them around his back. Feeling her slide down slightly, Stan quickly grabbed her ass with his hands and fucked, madly now, passionately, balls slapping away.

"Oh God. Oh God. Oh God," Chardonnay chanted as Stan, puffing with the effort of holding her up, fucked her. Finally, as Stan felt cum welling up within him, Chardonnay squeezed him tightly with her pussy, pulling him deep inside, holding him, grasping him, needing him......

And they came together in an exploding rush. As Stan pumped his load into Chardonnay, she screamed as pleasure enveloped, swirled, caressed, touched her being.

Stan, deep in Chardonnay, felt his load of semen pour into her and thought he would literally explode. His balls ached, his legs were straining from holding her, sweat dripped from his hairline and down his chest.

Reaching up, he slipped the scarf from her eyes with one hand, then moved back to hold her bum. They looked into each other's eyes for the first time since he had covered them and they smiled.

"Untie me, Stan," Chardonnay whispered.

"Okay. Need to get down?" he whispered back.

"No. I just want to hold you."

Stan traded hands from her bum to a wrist to free the silk scarf there. With both free, and her legs still wrapped tightly around him, Chardonnay leaned back against the fridge and reached to undo the knot at her waist. Then, putting her arms tightly around Stan's neck, she floated there, his cock deep inside her, legs locked around him, and nuzzled into his neck.

Stan felt his leg muscles quiver, but he was damned if he was going to put Chardonnay down. He held her tightly, felt their heat and the sweat between them and her legs locked tightly around him. Felt their mixed juices running down his legs. Standing there, his wife aboard his cock, he couldn't remember a better moment. Ever.