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Somewhere in Chicago (M/F)

Jamandi

TMF Poster
Joined
Aug 19, 2002
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Somewhere in Chicago…

She laughed, that cute quirky laugh she used only at my expense. I smiled crookedly back at her. God knows I loved her sense of humor, but I could give as well as receive.

We finished the sunny, paved morning walk back from the market that had become our Sunday tradition. Breakfast needed breakfast supplies, and Saturday was no day for shopping.

We walked lazily but alert through the streams of sunlight pouring into our building. We focused mostly on each other. The Elevator was going up and we listened to the soft dings in the silence. Our eyes looked at everything but the future.

We walked quickly to our apartment and I opened our door as she strode through, turning suddenly. She gave me a look over her shoulder through her hair. Childhood innocence tempered through adult desires. She was being mischievous again, she had talent.

“Put the eggs away” I said with a smile.

“Yes dear” she raised her eyebrows slowly and I watched her tiptoe to the fridge. I walked behind her and pressed my nose along the side of her neck.

“No dear, the eggs” she stated flatly and moving away continuing to tend to the groceries.

I forced the door closed and backed her up against it. I kissed her, roughly, and we lost a moment of time. She pushed me gently away, slid her shorts off and raised her shirt over her head. She was still wearing her black nighty under her clothes.

I caught her arms while her shirt was just over her nose, still covering her eyes. She panted, red lips in visible contrast to her white upturned undershirt. I kissed her - like I owned her. She trembled under the weight of it. Her left leg snaked up my side and I picked her up, pressing her against the fridge. She exhaled, thrilled and frightened by it.

“Slide your hands behind my neck” I ordered, and she obeyed moving her shirt further down her arms, hands tangled within, up and over my head. Her toes came down and gently touched the floor.

“Don’t move”. She didn’t.

I traced my hands slowly down her arms lightly with my index finger and thumb. I could feel her tensing. “Don’t move” I repeated as my hands grazed the soft hollows under her arms. She squealed and panted. She had just been tickled for the first time today, her body soft and surrendering.

I continued to trace my fingers down the length of her arms and underneath, paying little heed to the squirming and laughing and frustration she was mouthing. I pulled her close and kissed her neck. Moaning she whispered into my ear.

“Take me” “Please”

I picked her up fully and she squeezed her legs around me as I carried her though the kitchen and down the hallway to our bedroom. She kissed me everywhere. I laid her out on the bed and straddled her hips. She clawed at my shirt and took it off.

I put her wrists in my hands and pressed them gently but firmly over her head with a strength we both knew she could not come close to matching. Her black nighty was satin and her tight breasts ached underneath, beckoning me.

She looked at me, with innocence somehow. And I bent down softly nibbling around her left breast with a lazy determination. Her reaction was instant as I felt her hopelessly pull against my hands, tossing her head back and forth against the sheets. She was laughing, and against all her willpower she could not stop. Her breasts and nipples were abnormally ticklish and the satin added the sensation of helplessness. A minute passed and I stopped nibbling suddenly and hunted for her other nipple. The second time was always worse.

She rubbed herself against my pants half purposefully, half recklessly and I let go for a moment. She gritted her teeth and unbuttoned the top button reaching her hand in to encompass me. I moaned.

I grabbed her wrist lightly, and rolled away to remove the rest of my clothing. She waited for me while our hearts thundered on. She was gorgeous.

I grabbed her sock by the toes and pulled it off slowly. Her foot was long, light, and more tender than any other object I had ever known. Absolute perfection. I matched the one foot with the other and soon both were bare. She turned over forcing me to view her perfect bottom and laid her wrinkled soles out before me on the bed as tribute to her momentary master.

I took her smooth ankles into the crook of my arms and locked her down. The fingers of my right hand lightly stroked once down her soles.

“GOODD!” she managed to scream before collapsing into giggles that fueled some unseen fire within me.
I traced symbols of madness on her creamy soles that tickled her beyond the limits of her sanity. She was mad, tickled mad. Her feet were animated by the pleasure and pain. Her body screamed for release.

I stopped and sucked on her toes one by one while she sobbed with joy. Her hands were pulling at her hair, frustrated with ecstasy. Her legs went wide suddenly and I could smell her. I felt myself moving up her smooth thighs. I entered her in a white haze and we were powerful.

I loved her, but she said it first.
 
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Very nice. For a short piece you set the mood very well and pack enough detail in and allow us to create the visuals for ourselves. I like the tickle foreplay aspect, sounds like a hell of a morning. :)
 
Thank you Suikoden. To be honest, it was your thread "Story forum - RIP" that finally nudged me enough to stop procrastinating and write something after years of silently enjoying this section. I greatly appreciate your feedback.

The weekend mornings that were the inspiration to this story are very fond memories. I am happy have to the opportunity to share a bit of them, though I would remind anyone reading that timely refrigeration of groceries is always important and not to be overlooked. :)
 
;) forget the groceries...what's a few spoiled eggs and milk when you can have this kind of encounter? Thanks for putting your toe in the water and welcome to stories forum! Very nicely done.
 
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