Sam and Bob

There was a little sleet tinkling the back windowpane of my house, and I was worried. The weather forecast talked about it only for the early evening hours, but it could royally screw up my Thanksgiving plans. Most of all I was worried Sam couldn't make it: she lived far enough away and Lawrence is a hilly town. We had a tradition of the night before Thanksgiving with the anti-Turkey feast. I had meat loaf, whipped potatoes, and roasted Brussels sprouts and onions almost ready to go; Sam was bringing Spinach salad, sweet potato casserole, and dessert. A nice bottle of Beaujolais (an indulgence) was open, a fresh pitcher of slightly lemon iced tea (her favorite) was in the fridge, and I'd loaded our favorite playlist of Mozart.

Sam got back from her trip to the Mississippi Gulf Coast the day before, and I was dying to see her. I miss my friend when she's gone. No one else I know is as witty or bright and I had more in common with her than anybody I've ever known.. I enjoy my solitude, and she was my favorite way to break it. Sure, I would see my family the next day and she would see hers, but our friendship was family by choice.

Of course ten days before she'd reintroduced me to the glory of fellatio, and the revived beast was wondering when it would happen again. I'd even done a little research on how to repay the favor.

6:30 was already dark when she bustled in my front door. Her shoes were off less than ten seconds later and her coat in the hall closet before I could come out of the kitchen and meet her. A broad grin broke out on her face, and she leaped into my arms, much to my surprise. "I see you made it," I said after giving her a bear hug.

"Yup. Tough time getting across town, but I made it. Couldn't miss the anti-Turkey feast."

A basket on her arm held the goodies she was contributing, and they were on the table quickly. A push of a button on my iPhone and Wolfgang joined the conversation. "I bet the roads are getting really shitty."

"Tres sheet-tay as I would say. Had a dreadful time getting back yesterday."

"Was the weather bad?"

"No, it was just dreadful. The monsters struck out spectacularly with the flowers of the South, and their crabbiness never let up. Had to pull over and threaten to make them walk before they settled down."

"I've been on trips like that. Welcome to professorship." She got herself a glass of iced tea, I poured myself a glass of glorious red liquid, and we sat at the table. "Thanks God, it's all good!"

"Yeah, team. So anything happen here while I was gone?"

"Oh, same shit, different days. Your generation is going to drive me nuts: I've talked to more parents the past couple of days than in forty years of teaching. I should correct that. Your parents' generation is going to drive me nuts. Spoiled brats when they came to college twenty years ago, and are still spoiled brats."

Sam nodded. "Yeah, my parents are pretty damn spoiled. That's why I try to avoid them as much as I can. How are your girls doing as parents?"

"Oh, they're tyrants. Their rugrats say please and thank you to everything. In fact, Cody once told me, 'Pawpaw, you need to say please when you ask for that. We must have good manners.' Christ, the kid is five going on twenty five."

"Nice. Here's to being old school."

I got my dishes out of the oven and put them on the table. "Other than that, just trying to keep up with reading papers. Sent off an article on Lord Byron last week for the refereed journal. Stupid prick. He deserved to drown in Greece."

"Our field work went pretty well, but what it showed is sickening. They'll still feeling the effects of the Deepwater Horizon disaster. Stupid pricks, there's a movie coming out about that soon, isn't there?"

"Yeah, let's ignore it together. Let's eat."

"I'm starved." She gave me a sultry look and licked her lips, letting out a giggle when she saw my reaction. Sam never played fair. I wanted to embed my cock in that smirk, and she knew it.

We tucked into our meal at the kitchen table, since we weren't into the ceremony of the dining room. As usual, the food was great: Sam and I have some kitchen skills. She usually just ate a few bites of her food, but her appetite was better that night than usual. Her mood was giddy enough for me to think she was drinking wine as well.

After dinner, we hand washed the dishes, being traditionalists (and I not having a dishwasher.) I noticed as we left the kitchen, she was leading me into the dining room. It was dominated by a nice piece of furniture, a glorious dark wood table, with a lace tablecloth draped in a diagonally across it and two antique candlesticks flanking the center. I think she set it up that way a month ago when I wasn't looking.

She sat on the table, lighting the candles, then hopped down again. "Now for dessert. You will have the pleasure of a piece of my pie, and the first time deserves some dignity and class. I hope you're hungry."

It took her two seconds to take off her clothes. I turned out the lights, not worried what my neighbors on that side would see since they'd already left for the holidays. She was bathed in a soft glow, her legs dangling off the table and spread, with a huge, wicked smile on her face. "Let's see what you remember, before we begin the lesson."

My first move was to try to kiss her lips, but she pushed me away. Bending over, I took her pert little nipple in my mouth, licking around the areola and sucking the bud in and out. My reward was a gasp and a gentle hand on the back of my head. After a few moments, I switched to her other breast, savoring that sweetmeat. My back wouldn't let me do that for long, and I had to sit down facing the red tuft between her legs. I never thought Sam would dye her hair, and her carpet definitely matched the drapes.

My hands reached up to cup her breasts as I kissed her slit the first time, and she guided me to pinch them. Her breathing got intense, and after a stronger squeeze brought positive response, I was soon gripping them hard and pulling a little bit. My tongue circled her lower lips, tracing them up and down, before focusing on the stem of the flower, sucking it gently. I put my elbows on the table for stability, but I couldn't hold it for long. The pain in my shoulders was building; my friend Arthur was insisting on joining the party

Letting go, I sat up and said, "Sorry, Sam. My old body won't let me do both anymore. Ideas?"

The look on her face was one I'd never seen before, like she'd awakened unexpectedly from a delicious nap. "Ah, got any clothespins?"

I shook my head. "All my stuff is permanent press, and I've got a dryer. Let me see what's in my closet downstairs. Don't go anywhere."

She pulled her leg up to rest her head on her knee. "I may duck outside for a smoke. If I can find my cigarettes." Very funny, she'd never smoked in her life. Like she was going to walk out my back door stark naked in that weather.

Rummaging through my hall closet, I didn't find anything inspiring, so I went up to my bedroom. In my closet there was a hanger with two clamps for hanging trousers. They looked vicious, probably more than she wanted, but I brought it just in case. There were paper clips in my home office and I took a couple, but I doubted that would do either.

When I came into the room, Sam gave me a look of surprise. "Damn Bob, didn't know you were this kinky. Is this for your special girls, or do you bring it out for all your sex slaves?"

"Hey, it was all I could find. We try it and see how it works. If it doesn't, we try something else."

Fortunately the room was cool enough her nipples were very hard. She winced when I pinched the first one with the pant hanger clip, but after a moment pointed to the other one. "Shit, that's intense, but I think I like it." She panted a few moments, getting used to the sensations, before touching my shoulders. "Okay, big boy, back to your station. Get that tongue busy."

I circled her waist and grabbed her butt cheeks as I stuck my tongue as far as I could inside, making her shudder. The flavor was a little grassy, but I liked it. Her voice started an odd, animalistic cadenza as I tongue fucked her, and when I came out, I stuck my index finger in and out while I sucked her bud. I had to breathe normally for a while. Boy, was I glad I didn't live in an apartment, she was drowning out poor old Wolfgang from down the hall.

Catching a glance at what was going on over my head, I saw her pulling on the pant hanger, stretching her nipples. Keeping my finger busy while I came up for air, I kissed her dear little boob as it was elongated. Her eyes were closed tightly as her face was drawn up, gently biting her lower lip. I picked up the pace, going as fast as I could, and she gasped again, gibbering incoherently. "Must be nice to have another language," I murmured, bringing a hint of disgust to her face.

Diving down, I took out my finger and went as crazy as I could, moving my tongue all over the place. Her body started to tremble and she clasped my head with her knees in a death grip. It was a little tough to breathe, but I maneuvered my head a little to get my nose free, just above her lush, red fur. Her engine was gaining speed and I did my best to keep the throttle down. It seemed like a lifetime, like I'd never get over the boundary. The shuddering grew and grew and she let loose a loud, demonic shriek that must have roused the neighborhood as my face was suddenly drenched with her love juice. I kept going until she let me go, pushing my face away, and I wiped my face on her thighs, kissing them.

When I sat back, she was panting in front of me, her head thrown back, resting on her arms, breathing heavily. Her nipples were still bound by the pant hanger, and I released them. They were a brilliant red, and the slightest touch of my tongue sent another shudder through her. Sam looked like a madwoman, gazing into my eyes ferociously as her breathing returned to normal. "Happy Thanksgiving," I said in my most sardonic voice.

It took Sam a few seconds to reply. "Damn, Bob. Damn, didn't know you had it in you. Best I ever had. Shit. I don't think I can walk. The women of this town don't know what they're missing. Talk about keeping your light under a bushel..." I touched her sore nipple and she shuddered again. "Damn. You'll be lucky if I ever go home. Man, you are going to get SUCH a blowjob. When I come down, you aren't going to know what hit you. I could almost root for Man United, long live Wayne Rooney."

"You're welcome."

Sam gave me a sweet smile. "Why don't you go in the front room and get comfortable? Have another glass of wine and light your pipe. I'll be there soon."

I left the room, going to the kitchen to pour one of my favorite concoctions: half Bailey's and half Amaretto. There was a nice cherry blend I just picked up for my pipe, and soon I was in my favorite chair, with drink and smoke and Eine Kleine lilting in the air. The sleet was still tinkling on the windowpane like windchimes, but I didn't care. Of course, my pants and underwear were around my ankles.

Fifteen minutes later, Sam entered the room carrying a candle, naked except one of my neckties around her neck, tied in an expert Double Windsor. She was trying to act solemn, but her lower lip was quivering, as though she was mocking her own formal procession. There was something in her mouth, but a small bulge jutting from one cheek. Kneeling in front of me, she touched her head to the floor for a few moments before sitting on her knees and swallowing what was in her mouth. It was all I could do to keep from laughing.

Pulling up my stiff penis, she formally kissed the right and the left testicle before kissing both side and the tip of my cock. Then we both lost it, dissolving in giggles. Recovering, she intoned: "Master, I have come to do you homage. Your grace to me is beyond compare, you have dispelled the coldness of the night with the white hot fire of affection, and so I must honor you. I would harness the four winds to speed your journeys, and draw water from the springs of paradise to slake your thirst. My body trembles at the thought of your touch, and my heart races at the promise of your goodness. I am here to serve, Master."

"That was almost Shakespearean, Sam. Well said. A great exposition of high sounding bullshit. So I guess this begins the ceremony of sucking my cock?"

She laughed. "All right, we'll do this another way." Humming to give herself a pitch, she sang in a childish voice:

"A cocksucking we will go,

A cocksucking we will go,

Heigh-ho di derry O,

A cocksucking we will go."

I laughed and reached up to pull her head closer. "Okay smartass, whenever you're ready."

She started by licking around my shaft and balls, still giggling, making me grow and long for the touch of her lips. The Beast was interested immediately, and responded to her attention. Sucking the head in for a few moments, her tongue was all over the helmet, making it slick and sensitive. Then she went down to my nuts, savoring them delightfully and making my sap start to rise. By a telltale tingle, I knew she was sucking a Peppermint Lifesaver, which she did frequently. A thought crossed her face: "Let me try your pipe."

"What?"

"Let me take a hit off that, smells really good."

Hell, I would have offered her anything to keep doing what she was doing, so I passed my corncob for her to take a puff or two. She let the smoke through her mouth around my cock, which looked incredibly hot and felt fantastic. I thought I'd died and gone to a '70s porn movie. She took a few pumps before taking another puff, which was both felt great and frustrated a little as I was hoping form sustained effort.

Coming back up, she slid my staff in and out between her lips, applying the right pressure and groaning a little. When the irresistible force started to rise, she didn't let up and make me wait as before: she redoubled her efforts to get the great salty surge I had to offer. Once again, my brain was completely disconnected as the waves washed through my consciousness, and feeling her hunger was the greatest stimulation I've ever known. The mountaintop is a great place to be.

My pipe went gray as I recovered from my experience. Sam got back into her clothes (the room was a little chilly for someone physically inactive,) and dialed up the weather on her phone. "Gonna sleet for a few hours, no sense in going home. Mind if I stay?"

I gave her a look which she laughed at immediately. "A damn stupid question if you ask me. What do you think?"

"I'll call the fam and tell them I'm here." Both our families knew we spent a lot of time together, and Sam had stayed in my back bedroom many evenings at all times of the year. I pulled up my pants and poured myself another drink; the world was a wonderful place in spite of the weather outside.

We played chess for a couple of hours before retiring, sharing a pipeful of delicious tobacco. When we were done, I went through my shut down routine after she wandered off to the guest bathroom, expecting her to stay in my spare room as usual. Just after I put the light out, she climbed in my bed with me, naked, and I gathered her in a huge embrace as we spooned under the covers. After settling in, she asked me: "What play are you doing this Spring?"

"What play? Taming of the Shrew."

"Nice. Take it you've got a strong woman to play Katherine."

"Oh, a couple of our current lady leads could do an excellent job. Working that out will be tough; the one who doesn't get it is going to be a bitch to live with off stage."

"I think if I ever have a daughter I'll call her Katherine."

Oh, shit! Best response was silence, of course. I wanted a chance to fuck her, but if she was going to be in that kind of mood, it could be trouble. Definitely not the right time to ask if she was still on the Pill. After a few seconds I had an inspiration: talking about my own children could derail that train. I murmured, "I named my oldest daughter after a Shakespearean character."

"Summer? Summer isn't a Shakespeare character."

"Summer's not her first name. Hyppolita, Hyppolita Midsummer."

Sam snorted. "Shit, you named her after the Amazon queen in A Midsummer Night's Dream, who doesn't have a lot of lines? You're strange, Bob."

"I thought it was grand, unique. Lucky I didn't name her Thisbe. She was all right with being called Hippy until about Fifth Grade, since then it's been Summer."

She snorted again. "Bet you paid for that one."

"My ex would never let me name anything again. Not even my dog."

"Serves you right. Your ex must have been one smart woman."

I slapped her butt and she wiggled back against me. We settled down to slumber as the sleet continued to tinkle on the windows, safe in the knowledge we were warm and safe. Sam didn't mind me putting one hand on her breast and the other on her tummy while drawing her close to my chubby torso. As I drifted toward sleep, I felt the best I had in years. Life was beautiful.

Then she started snoring...