Winter Season

“Are you testing my propriety, sir?”

After Chet left, Oscar stood and extended his hands for Esther. She accepted them and he led her to the bedroom. His bedroom. Even though he was wearing his standard pj’s; a pair of athletic pants with a panther on them (the high school mascot) and a tee shirt; Esther was still dressed in her clothing of the day. He stopped her beside the bed. With one hand he held the delicate chain of the necklace he had bought her and the other was around her waist. “Do you sleep in it?”

“No, I’m afraid I will break it.” She smiled. “I’m not a gentle sleeper.” She blushed, “when I sleep.”

He removed it. Letting his hands linger on her neck before laying it on the night stand. She just watched him. There was a deep secret part of her that was hoping that he was going to do what she thought he was going to do. But she wasn’t going to get her hopes up. It would happen in time.

He guided her to a setting position on the bed, lifted her foot removing her shoes and socks. “How do you feel about feet?”

“I think if you are both comfortable, feet can be very erotic.”

“Would you be offended if I wanted to suck your toes?” He didn’t look at her, he was massaging her feet.

“If they are clean, you can do anything you want.” He smiled, looking up at her. “I don’t want you kissing me after you’ve sucked a toe that has been in a shoe all day.”

He laid her on the bed, his nose touching hers. “Have I told you lately how much I love you?”

She guided her fingers around his neck. He inhaled a sharp breath. “You have told me that you love me. But you’ve never said how much.”

He kissed her. It was THAT KISS that made her want to rip his clothes off. THAT KISS that told her so much about what he was feeling. When words didn’t work, all he had to do was kiss her. He kissed down her neck to the top of her shirt. She was pleasantly surprised when he started licking her cleavage much like he would lick an ice cream cone. With each lick, he rooted his face deeper and deeper inside her shirt.

“Oh my.” She hissed.

He moaned, “you like?”

“Yeah.” She ran her fingers through his hair, wanting so badly to get a fist full of it but didn’t.

He pulled her shirt over her head. There was her big white bra. She had the hardest time buying sexy bras. Most bras nowadays are filled with padding. She felt that if you were already a 40D what did you need extra padding for? At least on her back she wasn’t so self conscious.

She lifted off his shirt, noticing how warm his skin was. It was always so warm.

“Are you testing my propriety, sir?” She smiled.

He was nose to nose with her. Those blue eyes sparkled with a wicked twinkle. He started laughing. “Are you kidding me?” The bed shook lightly as he moved to lay beside of her. Both laughing. “You are something else.”

“I hope that’s a good something.”

Gently, he moved a random hair from her face. Tracing the outline of her features in the soft lamp light.

“Keep doing that and I’ll be asleep.”

“Okay.” He continued.

“Looking back to this time last year, did you ever think you’d be in bed without your shirt on with a woman in just her bra?”

He blushed, “no.”

“Share with me why?”

He continued tracing her face as he spoke,”I’m,” there was a long pause as he looked for the right words. “Oat says I have my standards too high. If I’d lowered them I’d already have a family.”

“Like Doris?”

“I guess.” He trailed his fingers down and around her neck. “What about you?”

“Where do I start?” She took a deep breath. “I’m too,” it was her turn to search. “You have enjoyed things with me no other man would do. The night we made snow angels,” she cuddled into him. “I love my grandparents and I did play. But I feel like I didn’t really play. Because they were older it’s like a part of me was suppressed. I know there’s a time to be serious. I don’t want to be serious all the time. O, tell me about your first time.”

“Really,” he was shocked.

“Why not, especially if it was a good experience?”

“I was 20 and she was my professor.”

“Wooo hooo! An older woman” She teased. “So, is it true older women make better lovers?”

“I wouldn’t know. I’ve never had another experience like that.”

“None?”

“No,”

“How come?”

“I had this movie ideology of what a relationship should be. I thought the world should move when we kissed; that when we touch, volcanoes would erupt. I never experienced that.”

“So were you like her toy?”

“I’m not sure.”

“How can you not be sure? Did she tell you what to do and you did it?”

“I would read to her. Stories of her choosing.”

“You do have a pleasing voice. What did you read.”

“The Millers Tale, anything dealing with Kama Sutra, Lady Chatterley’s Lover.”

“Tell me about me?”

He held her a little tighter, “the first time we shook hands I felt something strange in your touch. Something I couldn’t define. I shrugged it off. After we played in the snow, I invited you over, when I helped you out of the floor my right arm tingled all the way to my shoulder. I told myself that kind of stuff only happens in the movies.” He thought for a moment, “uh.”

With a sleepy voice she spoke, “if you decide you don’t want to be in a relationship with me anymore, please don’t kill me.”

“Is this what you dream about?”

“Worse.”

Winter Season