The oven timer’s ring startled her. She had already shampooed her head and it was all coursing down her face and through her body. She half-rinsed her head and draped a towel around it as she left in a rush to check on the eye of the round roast in the oven. There was this new recipe a friend gave her and she could not wait for the New Year to try it. It sounded like a tasty way to send the year off. She didn’t plan to spend it alone but things being as they were, she had no choice but to contend with watching the fireworks from her porch that overlooked the city square.
She could already smell the rosemary as she walked to the kitchen and wondered silently if the beef was already overcooked. The first 15 minutes had flown by so fast, or maybe the shower was too sweet. She couldn’t really tell. Her towel hang loosely as she bent over to adjust the oven to a lesser heat so that she’d have it served medium rare in an hour. She really hoped that all the oregano, thyme and black pepper would kill her taste buds softly as she savored the meat.
Just then, the doorbell rang and she wondered what the neighbors wanted this late into the night. She wasn’t expecting anyone not tonight at least. Her husband was across the world in some other 3rd world fighting the good fight for the UN peace keeping missions. He reviled the idea of being away from her just as much as she did but he was on duty. He was so conflicted at times he wanted to quit but when he remembered the mortgage in such a struggling economy, it was a sacrifice he was willing to make. He was in for a penny, in for a pound. With both choices there was something to lose.
As he stood in front of the door, all he hoped is that she had kept the faith and held on until he came back home. His biggest fear at this point was that she had found someone else. Someone who was at least available when needed. Someone to change the bulb or make her feel secure not just in the house but in her own skin too. She reached out to turn the front door lights on and without even a word of endearment, he dropped his duffle bag and picked her up right off her feet. For a while there she was in shock and didn’t know what just hit her but once she saw the scar she helped nurse on his neck, she knew.
As he put her down she could not help getting her face all salty with tears of joy. Without a word he hugged her left foot and sobbed into her towel, thankful to see her and above all, in good health. She held onto his head steady onto the towel as he knelt down to worship on her altar. He paused transitorily and kissed her from her ankles and worked his way up to her calf. A kiss behind her knees almost had him kicked but he held her steady. He kissed his tears off her leg as he went up the insides of her left thigh. So soft and tender and still reeked of the blue berry shampoo that she loved so much. Old habits die hard.
He stopped for a while to take a deep lungful and he felt her stop to breathe too. One hand cupped her right butt cheek while the other felt her up beyond her hip to those lines where the leg joins the lower abdomen. He traced his finger down the line to where it met with the other from the right leg and took a breather. So deep was the breath that she felt the warm air around her skin rush into his nostrils. The air was replaced by a chill from the open door of which they had both forgotten about until now. She felt the goosebumps steadily swell on her skin as her towel gracefully dropped on his head.
She lifted her leg and put it over his shoulder and eased her weight onto his tongue. He buried his face in her crotch and she could feel his nose right above her hoodie. Her pubes were neatly shaven into a cross. Not that she was a religious zealot but she fancied the idea of making him drink from the fountain of life right under the cross. The foot of the cross pointed right where she needed his tongue to be and from his position, every drop she had was consumed with glee and without spillage. He dug as deep as his long tongue would let him and knew just what to touch and how to negotiate in there.
Apart from pushing his head, further in, she often took breaks to gently cup her supple breasts and every time he hit the G spot, she almost tore her nipples off. The A spot was always an easy find so he saved it for last. While sucking and nibbling on her little nub of pleasure, he ran his fingers down her butt and parted the cheeks to have an easier access to her chocolate starfish with his pinkie. Her breathes became laborious with the double attack she was experiencing. A flick of his tongue on her bean had her insides have 0.5 second apart contractions. Her build up was so huge she broke her flood gates right into his buccal cavity.
He took a moment to breathe after he had taken more than he had anticipated. He looked savage with residual cum dripping off the sides of his mouth down his beard and eventually onto the floor. He went on a knee and took out a 25 carat diamond ring his mother left him and didn’t even have to ask. She nodded and took him by his face in her hands and kissed her essence off his face before finishing with his swollen pink lips.
2 thoughts on “The War Room (Part 1)”
No that! Not even me can say No!
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Hehe seems like the war room bore it’s fruits