She was groggy, still partially asleep -- how could he be awake already? As her muddled thinking slowly cleared, she understood that he could be awake because his body had been immunized to early mornings by his five AM start times. This meant that even on a Saturday he would be brewing coffee at three or four in the morning. Ugh. So much for the concept of sleeping in on weekends.
Lori listened to the wind roar down their valley; the tops of the fir trees surrounding their house must really be bending under the force of that typical south-easter. Soon snow would be flying wildly, burying them until next April. So many things to do, to get the place ready for winter in earnest. She huddled deeper into the quilt, daring today's chores to come and find her.
She listened to Peter trudge up the stairs to their loft, allowed her mind to fill in the rest of him: fairly short and not thickly muscled, but hard and agile nonetheless. Right now he would be wearing only sweats, the nipples on his hairless chest standing out firmly in the cool air that invaded their house nightly. She heard him put down two heavy clay mugs of coffee. Downstairs the woodstove crackled and sang it's love song to heat as its metal surfaces expanded.
Peter kissed her ear, ran his hand through her hair playfully. She wrapped the quilt around herself even tighter. "What do you want?" she teased, knowing full well.
He rolled her over, quilt and everything. Her defenses weak to begin with, he managed to expose her bum to the cold air. She gasped and struggled to redistribute the quilt, get back into the warmth. Dammit -- now the enemy was actually under there with her!
Peter's head was at her feet, she could feel his tongue on her soles. Ripples of pleasure spread through her legs, into her abdomen. She moaned softly when he licked her toes, drawing each into his mouth in turn. He worked methodically from one toe to the next; he always had a plan, he'd joked to her, pointing out his German ancestry. All the sweeter when he occasionally subjected them both to a spasm of sexual chaos that she would fantasize about for weeks afterward.
His hardening cock rubbed tiny strings of pre-cum on her back as he slowly worked his way up her feet. Lori was lying comfortably on her side, and just let him lick her the way he thought he needed to. She could feel the heat and moisture of his tongue as he licked her shins and quads, working his way to the inside of her knees.
In a semi-conscious fog of pleasure and sleep, Lori realized that Peter had licked his way up the outsides of her thighs. She had no idea how much time had elapsed; probably no more than a few minutes. She thought that the way she felt right now, with him gently licking her thighs and bum, could easily be the way she felt for the rest of her days, and she would bear it without complaining too much.
Until he did ... that.
His hands had found the black thong panties she'd worn to bed, and now -- ever so slowly -- tugged them gently back and forth between her tightly closed legs. As the stretchy cotton material moved across her skin, the bastard was stimulating every nerve in her labia, every nerve in her clit, even her anus, to gentle wakefulness. She couldn't help herself, and softly moaned her approval. She supposed this feeling was not too bad either, ummmm ....
