Author's Note: I wrote this a long time ago--like 2017. I had originally intended
Heat
,
Stacie
to be a part of this manuscript. I'd also intended to have a section on Katie. I've never found the words for Katie...so this sat until I wrote
Heat, Stacie
separately. Thus far this is the only installment of
Heat
that has no elements of hypnosis other than Holly's trigger that appeared in
Six Ways to Heaven
. Incidentally, Holly and Ed are the same character from
Six Ways to Heaven
--just aged. It's rather short (sorry) but that's because much of Ed's story is told through the eyes of Holly, Katie and Stacie in other manuscripts.
Heat, Edward
Edward lit the candles and dropped the shades. He and Holly were early eaters which meant waiting for a candle-lit sunset dinner was out of the question, mid-summer. Nor was eating on the deck in a hundred-and-fifteen degrees a sexy option. Candles in the formal dining-room, with the shades pulled, was the best he could do.
He returned to the kitchen and inhaled, sherry, mushrooms, chicken -- divine. Ed checked the clock; 6:17. Provided she'd not been delayed, Holly'd be home any minute now.
Right on time, the garage door opened and the purr of Holly's Bugatti sounded from the driveway. He took the drained linguini from the sink and folded in his home-made Alfredo. Laying out the china, Ed speared a chicken breast for each of them and heaped on the Marsala.
"Hi, honey--" The garage door slammed. There was a heartbeat pause. "--oh wow."
Ed looked up from the dining room where he was pouring the Chateau Ste. Michelle. Holly stood in the middle of the kitchen; her hair swept to one side and cascaded in gentle wavelets to her top of her ass. One corner of her smile was pinned by a pearly white that couldn't dam the joy that beamed from her face.
"I was thinking of plowed, showered and a dinner out," Holly said. "But I can do plowed and dinner in."
Ed set aside the wine and stepped up to his wife. He ran his hands down her shoulders, through her hair to cup the ass that her too-short, cut-offs bared. "Didn't you get fucked enough at work?" he asked, although, he knew the answer to that. Sometime in the last eighteen years her libido had morphed from just barely controlled, socially acceptable bonfire to a California wildfire.
"Didn't you?"
"Stacie isn't you."
Holly draped her arms over his shoulders and ascended to her tip-toes. She planted a chaste kiss on his lips. "Ditto." Her second kiss was considerably hungrier.
Edward reached up and stroked her exposed ear. Holly shivered, groaned into his mouth and pressed her thigh divide against his bulge. She broke the kiss, her breasts riding against his chest as she heaved for air.
"My pants are still on. Why are my pants still on?"
Ed resealed their kiss and chuckled into Holly's mouth. His hands went to her shorts and snapped them open. Not breaking their kiss, Holly stepped back, kicked out of her wedges and helped him wiggle her ass out of her bottom-wear. Once her cut-offs were around her ankles she toed out of her shorts and g-string thong. Free of constraints, Holly jumped up and wrapped her legs about Ed.
Tongue wresting, with the curtain of Holly's hair blinding him, Ed staggered. Not wanting to slam her head into a cupboard or accidently drop her on the still hot stove, Ed pinned Holly against the refrigerator, which rocked alarmingly when their combined weight crashed into it. Unconcerned, Holly set her slit on Ed's fly and ground, pussy staining his slacks.
On the third or fourth rotation, Holly broke their kiss, buried her face in his shoulder and tried to curl into a ball around him on her upstroke. Holly's flesh quaked and convulsed on the down-stroke. She cried into Ed's collar-bone.
