Wednesday, December 14, 2005

We have liftoff....

Tuesday, November 22, 2005, 5:30PM
T minus 44 hours, 30 minutes

"Can we go shopping for Thanksgiving, Steve?" Tim says.

"Sure. Where's the list?"


"Tim, that's a notebook!"

"It's not full!"

"With all that stuff, we're gonna need your truck."

"Of course. I just need to stop and cash a check first."

"I'm buying, Tim."


"Yes! You're cooking, and I'm paying."

"I guess I'll just have to give you a really nice Christmas present, then."

7:40 PM
T minus 42:20

My kitchen looks like it got hit by an out-of-control grocery truck. Every free inch of counter space is filled with jars, bottles, and packages of all description. The floor is barely navigable for all the white, two-handled plastic bags.

"Most of this is non-perishable, so I'll pile it on your dining room table until tomorrow," Tim says. "The perishables will go in the fridge, and if that fills up we can put the rest in your garage. It's cool enough to keep out there for a day.

"Here's tomorrow's shopping list," she says, tearing a sheet from her notebook and sticking it to the refrigerator with an FSU magnet. Can we make a run around 8:00, before the crowds get too nuts?"

"Tim, we just went shopping. Why didn't you get that stuff just now?"

"I like to work with fresh fruits and spices. The produce places I go to are all climate-controlled, and they will keep better there than here. Also, we have to pick up the turkeys at the farm tomorrow. I picked out two really nice ones!"

"You picked them out?"

"Yeah! I inspected them and everything!"

"You mean they're still ALIVE?!"

"Yes, Steve. I picked them out a month ago, and I checked on them yesterday. Nice fat ones!" she exclaims, wide-eyed.

"Did you - apologize for the fact that we're going to be ripping them to shreds and eating them in a couple of days?"

"Do you eat hot dogs, Steve?" she says, tilting her head impatiently.


"That means you eat rat hair and pig snouts. I think you can handle this."

"You're weird, you know that?"

"Always!" she giggles sweetly.

November 23, 2005, 6:00pm
T minus 20:00

"What's that... fruity smell?" I say, sniffing the air.

"That's for my brine!" Tim says, stirring the contents of a large sauce pan.

"Your what?"

"My bri-ine," she says, leering at me from the sides of her eyes with a sexy twist of her head. "It's to make the turkey juicier!"

"Juicy is good."

"Stop it!" she flirts.

I run my hand across the back pockets of her jeans. Tim's ass is so firm and tight that I could squeeze it all day long and not get bored. Horny, yes, but not bored.

"Turn that stove off."

"Not now, honey! This is a very important part of the turkey." She turns to face me, still holding her wooden spoon, and drapes her arms around my neck. She presses her lips to mine, as I tingle from head to toe.

"You better be good and horny later," she whispers, her eyes drilling holes in mine.

"Bet on it."

Thursday, November 24, 2005, Thanksgiving, 2:04AM
T minus 11:56

My clock radio pops on and screeches "Since U Been Gone" by Kelly Clarkson at a horrifyingly high volume. The tinny speaker can't handle the amplitude, and Kelly's normally in-tune voice is muffled by static and distortion. When I'm half asleep, it's more frightening than the theme from The Exorcist.

"Mmfffffff," grumbles Tim, propping herself up on her elbows and peeking at me through narrowed lids.

"What's going on, Tim?"

"I set the alarm. I gotta flip."

"No, you don't. On your back is fine!"

"No! I need to flip my turkeys, silly! They're soaking in the brine and it's time to turn them over."

"Forget your turkeys," I say, slipping my hand under the sheet and grabbing for her nightshirt. All I feel is skin.

"Are you naked?!"


"You were gonna flip turkeys naked?"

"Mmmmmm," she nods.

She rolls over, laying the full weight of her body on mine. I run my hand along her back, enjoying the softness and heat of her skin. I trace the valley of her lower back, the curve of her ass, her muscled thigh.

Tim and I got tested together a few weeks ago, and we've been going without condoms ever since. I had forgotten how much fun it is to fuck whenever the mood strikes us, to attack each other in the bathroom or the kitchen, not having to stop the action and fight with a condom, tugging, straightening and adjusting, like a commercial break in the middle of my favorite show.

I had also forgotten how good it feels to have sex without a condom. No matter how "sensitive" the condom is supposed to be, it's still there; it creates a barrier between us, blocking the mind-blowing friction of our warm flesh.

She lifts her hips up higher, grabbing me fully in her hand and guiding me into her, lowering herself down with a low sigh. She pushes up on my chest, straightening her toned arms, her blonde hair tumbling down between us.

I like letting Tim do the work in bed sometimes. It's fun to relax, and watch, as she grinds, bounces and moans on top of me. I like watching her eyes slip closed and her mouth twist into a snarl as she climbs toward orgasm.

"Ooooo," she whispers as her arms stiffen against me, her hips slamming against mine with growing urgency; I push her hair aside and watch her gently heaving breasts.

Late-night sex is so much fun because it feels different; the sensations are magnified somehow when experienced in the half-awakeness that I feel in the middle of the night.

Tim and I fit together perfectly; whatever position we happen to be in, it feels like we got it just right. I'm always holding back, trying to prolong the experience as I feel my body rushing to a climax.

Her breathing grows to a heavy pant, as if she'd just run a 100-meter dash. She pumps away at me furiously, her hands crossed on my chest, and my eyes close as I try to memorize this moment, this perfect moment of pleasure. I am completely at ease, completely happy, and yes, completely in love with this beautiful, mature, sexy, horny woman who is thrusting and grunting above me.

I feel her hair in my face and open my eyes. She's lowered her head in exhaustion or ecstasy, or both. "Ohh. Oh fuck," she whispers. She pauses for a moment, her eyes opening, then lets out a long, low moan.

The moan does it to me. I couldn't hold back anymore, even if I wanted to. I relax and finally let myself come.

"Good night, sweetheart," I say softly, as she lays her head gently down on my chest.

"Don't you want to see me flip my turkeys naked?"