Coffee and Sympathy

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A knock at the door brings her head up with a snap. Her mirror reflects a deep blush climbing up her neck from between creamy breasts. She tucks freshly rouged nipples into the taught black lace of her bra and buttons the translucent black blouse. Running to the front door, she peeks out the window to identify the knocker. A gasp and she unlocks and opens the door to the blowing wind and snow.

“Bill!” she breathes, pulling him into the warmth of the foyer and quickly closing the door behind him, leveraging a hip against it to make the lock engage again. “God, it’s a mess out there!” She crosses behind him, brushing the snow from the shoulders of his coat.

“Sorry to stop by unannounced, Karey,” he laughs sheepishly, stomping the snow from his boots to the rubber mat on the tile floor of the entryway. “I was in town making copies of my next submission for group and got the car totally stuck in a snow bank. And, of course, my cell’s dead as a doornail. Laura had it all week and didn’t charge it.” She feels a twinge in her solar plexus at the mention of her name. He glances a fraught apology directly into her eyes. She melts.

“Well, let’s get you warm, mister. You’re soaked. And you can call home from my phone while I put on the kettle. Or would you prefer coffee?” She remains behind him, removing his soggy coat and hanging it up. She is still alarmingly out of breath.

“Coffee sounds great!” he said, rubbing his hands together briskly. She points him to the living room phone and scoots into the kitchen.

“Breathe, girl!” she admonishes herself, reaching into the freezer for the coffee. Her hands shake slightly as she puts the filter in the basket, fills it and fills the carafe with cold water. “I could use a couple of stiff cups, myself” she thinks, glancing down at the front of her blouse to make sure the buttons are done up correctly. Looks like you’ve got a couple of stiff cups already, she giggles, noting the insistent nipples outlined clearly through the sheer fabric. Hoo boy. Nothing like being caught during dress up time to make a girl’s juices flow. Guess it would be a little obvious to change into something a bit more modest right now. And Bill’s always been her flirting sparring partner, so why not shake things up a little on this snowy afternoon? She flicks the coffeemaker’s “on” switch and catches a deep breath – finally.

“Well, that’s done.” Bill’s voice in the kitchen doorway takes her by surprise and she jumps again, spinning with her back against the counter. She laughs and puts a hand to her chest. “Scare ya? Sorry…” She notices his eyes flick to her breasts and quickly back to her face. She smiles slowly and lowers her hand. His gaze descends again, more slowly, taking in her outfit more completely. “Wow. You look… fabulous. You weren’t planning to go out in this storm, were you?”

“Oh, no,” she laughs, pitching her voice as low as it would go. “Just hanging around the house… you know.”

“I’ve never known anyone who hangs around the house looking like that,” he croons, teasing her.

“Don’t hang around the right houses, obviously!” she parries, cocking a sassy hip and tossing her hair. The fact that her hair is short makes no difference to either of them. The gauntlet is thrown down. “Actually, I was just trying out some new makeup,” she purrs, turning to the cabinets behind her to reach for coffee cups. “I always like to take a little test drive before I wear it out in public.” Was that a low moan behind her as she tiptoes to reach deeply into the second shelf for the big mugs? The stretch feels good through her waist and she holds it for a moment before retrieving the mugs.

“Obviously,” he says finally, his voice a bit hoarse. “Nice shoes,” he says, “what do you call those?”

“Mules,” she models the stiletto-heeled beauties, “and… thanks.”

“They make your legs look… wow.”

“Thanks again, you silver-tongued devil,” she dimples at him. “Flattery will get you… oh, I don’t know. I’ll let you know when the time is right. Coffee’ll be done in a minute. How do you take it?”

“Any way -“

“– you can get it,” she finishes with him, laughing. “Yeah, yeah. Sugar? Cream?”

“Ahem!” he stems the flow of double entendre that threatens. “Just plain. Hot is good.”

“You’re telling me?” Oh, lord! This is merciless, she thinks, feeling a little hysterical. “How about a little something harder to warm you up on the side? A little brandy, maybe? Grand Marnier?”

“Oh, my god, sounds perfect.” He leans against the door frame, obviously feeling a bit of the same hysteria. She reaches again into the cabinet and retrieves snifters. Then into the liquor cabinet for the bottles. She pours two generous portions and hands one to him. The coffee beeps it’s completion and she fills the mugs as well.

“There ya go, snow man. Everything ok at the homestead?”

“Oh.” His face loses some of it’s loopy avidity that their flirting engendered. “Yeah. No one’s home. Laura took the kids to her Mom’s in Reynoldsburg last ataköy escort night. They’ll be stuck there for tonight, at least.”

“You can call them there, if you want. I’ve got very cheap long distance.”

“Maybe later. For now, I’ve got to defrost a little.” He sips his coffee with one hand, then another sip of the heady orange cognac. And another sip of the cognac.

“You doing ok?” Her serious tone makes him look up once more. His brown eyes fill with liquid as she watches.

“Yeah. I’m doing ok. Nothing that a nice afternoon with a sympathetic ear and a big bottle of Grand Marnier can’t cure. At least in the short run.”

“Good man,” she smiles and approaches him. “Let’s go into the living room and have a little sit-down.” She nudges against him on her way through the doorway, and smiles up at him as she passes. “Come on.”

They take up positions facing each other slightly on her deep, long sofa. Coasters are distributed and glasses are positioned within easy reach. She lights the big candle on the coffee table and pulls the ceramic ashtray toward her. “Mind if I have a cigarette?”

“Only if you let me bum one,” he grins. She knows that his habit of sneaking cigarettes is one of Laura’s no-nos. Karey’s heard her strident cawing when she dropped him off after a writer’s group meeting and Laura smelled smoke on him.

“Mi cigarette’s su cigarette,” she says, shaking one loose from the pack and holding the lighter for him as he drags deeply. He leans back and exhales the smoke in a hard, thin stream directly at the ceiling. He sighs and closes his eyes. Karey take the opportunity to take him in visually. Soft around the middle. Handsome face. Expressive mouth. Broad, short-fingered hands. Solid. She’s crazy about the guy, she thinks. There’s something about him – about his physical being that she finds completely irresistible. She feels her nipples grow erect again and shivers slightly. His eyes open and fasten on her. His face regains the clever, humorous cast it had in the kitchen.

“That’s mighty fine tobacco,” he mock-coughs and leans forward to flick his ash into the tray and retrieve his snifter.

“Only the best for my friends,” she replies, slipping off one shoe and tucking her bare foot under her other leg. She looks down at his hiking boots and gestures with her cigarette. “You really should take them off.”

“Excuse me?” His eyebrows shoot up comically. “Oh! The shoes. Sure.” He bends to loosen the laces and pull off the boots. “Shit. My feet are soaked.” He peels off his thick gray socks and lays them over the boots. “Brrr. Didn’t realize how cold they are ’til right now.”

“Give ’em here,” Karey states, brooking no argument. He dutifully swings his feet up onto the couch toward her. She stubs out her cigarette and reaches out for his ruddy toes. “Ohh! Wait! I’ve got just the thing.” She jumps up, bolts into the other room and returns with a bottle of lotion. “This’ll set you straight.”

“Did you doubt my straightness for some reason?” His eyes are slits behind his glasses and a sly smile curves his lips.

“Not for a moment,” she replies, resuming her position and pulling his feet into her warm lap. Just for a moment, his heels are pressed between her legs, only a thin layer of spandex and cotton of her leggings between them.

“Wow. You’re so… warm.”

“Mmmm.” She grumbles, squeezing a dollop of peppermint cream into her palm and rubbing her hands together to warm the lotion. She starts with the right foot, scooting toward him and tucking the left between her upper arm and the side of her breast. He gasps and closes his eyes, removing his glasses and blindly setting them on the coffee table.

“Oh my god – it’s kind of cold and hot all at the same time.”

“Mmmhmmm,” Karey mutters, concentrating on returning the circulation to his frigid toes. As she works, she feels his left foot curling a bit into the cushion of her breast. She finishes the right and pulls the left from it’s nest to repeat the procedure.

“Oh, man, I wasn’t done yet!” he moans. She twists his toes in response. “Ouch!” he laughs. She laughs too, adding lotion to her hands. He bends his right leg and buries his right foot under her, pressing against her pussy that must be clearly outlined through her leggings. “Oh, that’s much better. It’s important to huddle together for warmth, you know.” He wiggles the toes on the foot under her. She circumspectly ignores the urge to squirm on his invading digits. He chuckles and leans back, adjusting his hips on the pillows and the front of his Dockers as inconspicuously as possible. Not quite inconspicuously enough for Karey, though. She can feel her pussy heating up as she continues her ministrations. She rubs up his ankle, bracing his left foot between her breasts and rotating her pelvis to make more direct contact with the right.

“Warming up?” she little more than whispers. She can feel her heart beating hard under the sole of his foot. His toes curl under, pressing into the soft flesh that bakırköy escort spills out from the snug lace of her bra cups.

“Oh, god,” he moans. “Oh, my god. That feels so good.” She feels absurdly pleased. And even more pleased as he blatantly reaches down to adjust the front of his trousers. It’s becoming quite obvious that his feet aren’t the only things calling out for manual stimulation. She watches him squirm to move his hardening dick into a more comfortable position. His eyes snap open and fasten on hers. “You know what else is really really cold and needs to be rubbed?” He smiles in a way that makes the moisture flow to her mouth. And other places.

“Ummm…” She’s not quite sure that she’s ready to throw caution to the at this point and hesitates before answering.

“You bad girl!” he admonishes her. “I was talking about…” He leans forward and spreads his hands quickly in front of her face, like a magician doing a card trick.

“Oh! Your hands, you poor waif,” she laughs, completely tickled. She did so enjoy this man. And very much enjoyed touching him in this way. “Hands it is, me bucko. Straighten those legs out and present arms.” He cocks an eyebrow at her and thrusts his legs out. He is at this point nearly fully reclined on the sofa. Karey removes a couple of the pillows from the back of the sofa and straddles his thighs. “Now, just let your arms relax and let me do the work.”

“There’s a first from the mouth of a woman, in my experience,” he snipes and she puts his right index finger between her white front teeth and bites down gently. “Ow!” he laughs.

“You haven’t fed me yet, so biting is definitely an option,” she warns. She decides to forego the lotion for this process and begins work on his sturdy, cool hands. She bends her attention to her task, enjoying the simple pleasure of closely examining his fingers and palms with her eyes and her hands. She rubs deeply in the palm with her thumbs, massaging the pad between thumb and forefinger. She spreads the fingers and laces them with her own, pulling her hand back slowly and stretching his fingers as she goes.

A deep, satisfied grumble rolls from his chest. She glances up to see his eyes closed again and set back to work. The first hand done, she lays it gently on her thigh and takes up the other to repeat the process. Before she is half done, she feels his free hand begin a gentle sweep over the smooth expanse of her outer thigh. She scoots up a bit further, nearly bringing her pussy in contact with his crotch.

“Mmmm… so sweet.” He mumbles, transported, eyes still closed. She rubs his fingers one by one, resting the heel of his hand between her breasts. She notices that he is holding his breath. There is movement in the front of his trousers, mere inches from the v of her thighs straddling him. She bends her head and slips her lips over the index finger of the hand in hers. He breathes again, a gasp, really, as she wraps her tongue around the digit, suctioning a bit as she withdraws her mouth. She moves to the middle finger and his eyes open to watch. His mouth drops open, his face a confusion of shock and lust. She draws back her lips just enough to include his ring finger in her mouth. She sucks on both fingers gently. Teasing them with the flat of her tongue. She spins the ring on his third finger with the tip of her tongue. The gold tastes only slightly metallic to her. She slides her mouth slowly off of his fingers.

Never losing her gaze, he retrieves his hand from hers and puts three fingers of his right hand to the ring on his left. Aided by the saliva she laid on his skin, he slides the ring off, holds it up to his eye like a monocle and ceremoniously places it by his glasses on the coffee table.

“Hmm,” Karey thinks aloud. “There’s a gesture for ya.”

“Oh, it’s not really a gesture,” he says, his warm and damp hands sliding down her arms to her hands. He raises one, presses his lips hard to the back of her hand. “That, my dear, is a gesture. This,” he raises his middle finger and thrusts it toward the jewelry on the table, “this is a gesture.” He puts his hands around her hips and pulls her closer into him, centering her over his hard cock. “Taking it off’s just making me more comfortable.” She laughs and leans over a little bit as he leans up. Their lips meet – tentatively at first, but finding their place quickly.

“And your comfort is the most important thing, of course,” Karey mumbles, smiling, against his lips.

“Of course,” he grins and pulls her hard down on top of him. He reaches, throws the remaining pillows from the sofa and rolls her over on her back. Raising on one elbow, he traces a line with his finger down from her chin, her neck and between her breasts to the first button on her blouse. “That’s a very fetching blouse you’re almost wearing, Karey,” he breathes. His fingers deftly undo the first button. “You know, I believe I can see your underwear right through this thing, though.” He knits his brows and traces the top edge of the cup of her black lace bra through the fabric of her blouse. She breathes in, reaching for his finger with her breast. “Did you know that?”

“Oh, no!” Karey sighs, “how embarrassing…”

“Yeah… and you know what else? I can see your nipples right through your underwear…” His fingertip grazes an erect nipple. A nipple straining for attention like no nipple ever has. “My goodness. Good thing you weren’t going out in public like this. What would people think?”

“Golly. I dunno…”

“Hmmm. I think I know some guys who might enjoy the show, but I don’t think you’d make any girlfriends. Unless you bend that way.” He glances up to twinkle into her eyes.

“Well, I bend a lot of ways, but that’s not one of ’em,” she sighs with a smile, vibrating with arousal. His slow, featherweight touch is driving her mad.

“I see…” The second button is undone. One finger spreads the placket of her blouse, exposing more of her black brassiere. “Oh, boy, do I see…” His tone is more serious and she feels his hot breath on the skin of her breast. He bends his head and places the tip of his nose to one nipple, dampening the lace with his humid breath. He moves his nose in almost imperceptible circles, the tip of his nose remarkably similar in rigidity to her nipple. His finger dips into the top of the cup and pulls down until the pink areola is exposed completely. “Nice makeup,” he growls, and quickly fastens his lips on her nipple, scooping her breast into his face, his nose pressing deep into the pale flesh surrounding.

“Oh, my god,” moans Karey. The sight of a man’s face buried in her breast has always been a most erotic sight for her. He suckles gently on her, rhythmically, playing her like an instrument. Then his pace changes. His breathing becomes more ragged. He detaches from her breast and buries his face in the valley between her breasts.

“Oh, Karey,” his voice breaks. “Oh, Karey, I…” Her arms go instinctively around his meaty shoulders, drawing him into her warmth. She makes small comforting noises, nonsense syllables, mostly. In another moment he changes again. His head comes up with some force and he looks straight into her eyes. “I have wanted you for so long. I…” She waits for more, but no more comes. His mouth does, however. Down upon hers with a force that she has never experienced from a man before. It would be frightening if it weren’t so exciting.

After a very long time they each draw back a fraction. It’s showtime, Karey thinks, not at all sure now what is right to do. For someone who has seldom been in a circumstance that was beyond her control, lying here under this warm, fabulously desirable weight of man, she is a prisoner to his gravity. To his levity. She is as clueless as a teenager. She feverishly works through the possible downsides.

“It’ll be awkward in group,” he murmurs as he rubs his hardness against her slowly. He bends his head to the base of her neck and breathes deeply. “We’ll never be the same with each other again.” He lays his lips along her collarbone and pushes hard against her pubic bone. She pushes his weight up with a deep breath, driving into him.

“This could be a very bad thing.” She is vibrating with desire. Her legs steal up over the backs of his thighs. She wants to bind him. She wants to push him away. She wants him inside of her. She presses her lips to his ear, grasping the firm curl of his earlobe between her lips. “You’re married.” She forms the words with her lips and tongue, but with no breath.

“I’m a man,” he breathes into her mouth as his hands encircle her hips, as if he wants to get behind her – through her. “And I want you more than I’ve wanted anything since I can remember. I’m not willing to let this slip past me.” He locks her lips in his and her breath is in his possession. Again it is a long while before they draw back for cooler air.

“Well,” Karey breathes finally. She is filled with his flush, his heat, his lips, his eyes. She knows her lips are puffy, her eyes heavy with the lust for his touch. She feels her pussy expanding, moistening, readying for its reward.

“Well,” Bill leans back to view her face. He smiles in his old rakish way. “Moneypenny,” he squints in his best Sean Connery (which is actually more of Clint Eastwood with a bad Scottish accent), “you’re a hell of a kisser.”

“And you, James, are a cunning linguist… is that how you get the girls?” She cocks an eyebrow and holds his gaze.

“Actually,” he groans as he levers himself off of her prone form to a standing position. She hesitates, a bit taken aback by his abrupt departure. He extends his hand to her. She take it and he lifts her lightly to her feet and into his arms. “It’s my coffee that keeps ’em coming back for more,” he grins and kisses her.

“Really?” She blinks innocently at him. “You’ll have to make some for me sometime.”

“How about tomorrow morning?” He whispers in her ear while his hand steals to her left breast, thumb grazing the nipple. “Tonight, let’s just share a little cream, whattaya say?” He turns her away from him, keeping his hands on her waist. He aims her toward the stairs that lead to her bedroom. He walks pressed against her, nearly carrying her to the foot of the stairs.

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