Friday, November 11, 2005

Delight

I left work horny and bored. I wanted some sort of action in my life as I was looking at a long, blank weekend. I asked husband if he would go out with me. Of course, he wanted to know where. And I tried to think of a place which would be acceptable. I looked up movies and came up dry. Nothing we both really wanted to see. Finally, I said "Let's see what Martin is doing!"

So I told husband to call Martin. "No, YOU call him, it's your idea." "But I shound shtupid" I lisped, emphasizing the way my tongue piercing is making a mockery of my speach. "So what? Call him if you want to." So I did. And he agreed to meet us at his house and we'd... well, actually we had no idea what we'd do. It ended up being a night of TV, but I digress.

When we got there the house was cold. I hunkered down in my jacket and asked him why he was living in Antarctica. Both the men made fun of me for it but Martin pointed to the fireplace in his living room (which had always struck me as a strange fixture) "I was going to light a fire. For you." A few minutes later he did and I ended up spending the vast part of the rest of the night laying directly in front of the fire slowly baking.

We watched lots of TV, husband on the couch, Martin in a chair located somewhat between us, and myself on the floor in front of the fire. I was somewhat tired, the heat of the fire and my overall comfort sleeping in Martin's house led me to slowly drift... away...

I kept thinking about the sensuality of laying there in front of the fire. It's an old cliche, sex in front of the fire. However, I understand WHY, now. I could see myself laying with Martin curled up against me, his fingers tracing patterns across my naked skin, the heat of the fire heating already hot flesh... Martin on top of me, slowly moving inside me, holding my hands over my head... me on top the firelight and heat playing across my skin. Except the carpet sucked. I had to imagine some kind of sensual fabric under me...

Eventually, husband lay down on the couch and Martin joined me on the floor, sitting companionably next to the pillow I'd been alternately laying down on and ignoring all night. After a moment of consideration, I lay down next to him and it wasn't long before I took the initiative and let my fingers begin caressing and crawling up the side of his outer thigh. I couldn't resist touching him so intimately. Remember, my goal has long been to torment him as much as I've been tormented the last year or so of knowing him. He has a light set to a timer and it clicked off. And that's when things took a turn. He began to hold and caress my hand. Gradually his fingers began to explore down my arm until he was coyly caressing my breast with the backs of his fingers.

Husband began to snore.

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