Thanksgiving

Hmph, you think, some Thankgiving this turned out to be. You spent the day with all your friends, but they all had places to go fror a nice dinner, and you're coming home to nobody. Even HE tokk off an d left you... Your sweatsuit seems to be soaking up the Vancouver fog, and the hike from the busstop and up the stairs to your apartment leave you feeling lousy in them. Once you get inside, you tug your sweatshirt off and kick your shoes off, grumbling. "Surprise, hon." The sudden darkness of hands closing over your eyes isn't as startling, since you recognize the voice- he's here! You also saw that all the lights were out anywyas. In the darkness, your other senses report in... instead of the clammy cold outside, your room radiates with the humid warmth and the edelicious aromas of a home cooked meal in progress. over it all, the hint of cloves and cinnimon tellss you someone has lit two of your favorite candles over a lovely place setting for two. Not that that's all you're experiencing right now.

You could have seen all this, since his hands have wondered down your face, soft on your cheeks, the right pulling back the hair to kiss your neck, his breath billowing down your breasts mirroring the rising heat you feel in them. His left hand eases open your bra, which is wisped off by his right, which come back to stroke your breasts, his warm, soft fingers lingering on you nipples, still alittle soft from the rapidly disappearing cold outside. You swear you can see sparks when he last touches them. He hands then go down in tandem, his left down the middle of your back, his right acroos yuour belly to the wiast band of your pants. they come to rest at your hips, them he begins to pull them down, rianing kisses on the back of your legs as he goes. Buttocks, thighs, his be=reath humid, his hands rariating heat like the oven, you can feel then them an inch from your skin. One tender lick on the back of your knee as you step out of your pants and panties, the warmth of the room rushing over your pussy, dispelling the last of the clammy fog and really lighting you up. Soft lips on your butt agian, up your back, and he's standing agian, his hands roaming over your body. finally, he has one arm across your breasts, one hand ribbing circles over your belly, both seeming to provoke the heat building in you to explode fro those parts. Then, in a sweep and a breeze of cinnimon, you're in his arms and floatin to the bedroom; you finally open your eyes and look at him; so much for a cold lonely Thanksgiving!