Dreams... hot, erotic, naughty dreams cascade through my sleep, vivid and intimate; some fleeting, some lingering. All start or end with Claire.
And so it's easy, as the sunlight pierces my room and calls me to the day, to wrap the not-yet-fully-remembered events of last night into that bundle of not-real things that may or may not need sorting later.
I toss the covers aside and get up and stretch, naked in the mid-morning light that's streaming in through the window. A swim seems like just the thing to clear my head. I grab a fresh towel in the bathroom and head for the pool.
On the way, my mind is sorting things. An image - a dream recollection, really - muscles its way to the front of the crowd: Claire's mouth on my cock and me ejaculating a huge, never ending load. Vivid, visceral, and literally fantastic. Definitely a dream.
Wow, how much did I have to drink last night?
If it was that much, then why did I have such vivid and enduring dreams? And why of Claire? I must be sorting some mixed feelings; maybe some anxieties about coming back or something, I suppose. This is why I pay people like Claire to sort these things out; I'm no shrink.
I'm standing at the edge of the pool now. I have an urge to look behind me for some reason, but I don't. It's odd. I brush it off and dive in. I swim a half dozen lengths down and back at a good pace. I'm breathing hard but refreshed and feeling good when I push myself up and out, dripping cool pool water all over.
I glance over at the sauna and hot tub. I clearly remember standing in the guest room, naked with Jan. I remember Jan's advice. Yes, and Jan's dick is huge; noted. Ok. That all happened. I want a sauna and a soak, but my feet don't take me there; they steer me back to the bathroom instead.
On the way, I realize it's my stomach that's guiding me; I smell bacon. Damn am I ever hungry! So, I shower quickly and towel off. Back in my room, I pick up my suitcase and toss the covers back to lay it on the bed. I'm stepping on my underwear, so what's that blue bit on the other pillow? I pick it up.
Claire's panties.
My knees give out and I collapse onto the bed. I sit, clutching her dirty panties as it all comes back in a flood.
All of it.
Her very dirty, very fragrant panties hold the scent memory that drives all of last night through my mind like the naughtiest, hottest porn I've ever seen, run on fast forward. And that's exactly what it is.
Oh, shit, oh fuck, oh shit.
Okay. I hold her panties to my nose and take a deep, calming, centering breath. It's magic. Claire's dirty panties bring clarity. They tie the ends of this arc of my recent life together reassuringly and I am calmed; thinking clearly and rationally.
So, one of two things is true: Claire and I had too much to drink last night and said and did a bunch of crazy-asses drunk shit that neither of us will ever want to talk about ever again,... or, Claire and I had enough to drink last night that one or both of us were comfirtable enough to work out some real, long-standing issues and tensions in our relationship in a healthy and productive way, and there's a really healthy and positive way forward from here.
Yeah. Keep telling yourself that, Buddy!
Either way, of course the thing to do is to go straight downstairs and find Claire (
and food
, my stomach adds) and deal with this together. But not naked. No, that wouldn't do..
I'm going to wear Claire's panties, of course. It's a win-win; great icebreaker and, well: I get to wear Claire's dirty panties. Claire's got a good sense of humor. If I show her I can make light of it, it'll put her at ease.
You're such a rationalizer!
Yeah. And?
I step into them and pull the silky fabric up around my cock and balls. The gusset just barely holds my sack and nuts and then tapers to near thong proportions towards the back. Most of my ass hangs out. I can easily get my cock tucked in the front and it'll be fine as long as I don't get a sudden full erection. What are the chances?
I adjust myself in the mirror. I remember the first time I tried on a pair of Claire's dirty underwear way back when. They still look and feel marvelous... marvelously naughty! I look good and feel great. I'm ready to face the day, and Claire, and whatever happens now.
Downstairs in the kitchen, I find Claire pouring what looks to be béarnaise sauce over poached eggs, bacon, and English muffins. Damn! She's made her signature breakfast for me. My stomach rumbles and a host of memories of home ride into my brain with the delicious aromas.
She turns as I enter her cooking space. She's stark naked except for a smart, white apron that barely covers her tits and the very top of her thighs. She cocks one leg, puts one hand on her hip and tilts her head to look me up and down.
"Hot damn, Nate. I gotta tell you: I'm really stuck here, between "Fuck me, don't you look smoking hot in my panties!' and "Seriously, is there
anything
you won't do to get your pecker covered in my cuntsauce?'" She smiles a broad, genuine smile, showing her perfect pearly teeth.
I watch the luscious lobes of her lips stretch and roll as she grins. I notice the dimples that form at the corners of her mouth, the way her ears wiggle just a bit, the bend of her neck, her thighs rubbing subtly against one another as she shifts her weight. I'm totally tuned in to all of her. And I'm smitten into the core of me.
And I hear what she's said, and what she hasn't said, so I open with, "I brought your panties back."
"So I see. Where's my cum tax?"
"You collected it last night."
She strokes her throat lightly with her fingertips and licks her lips lasciviously. "Yes. Yes, I did. And it was... Mmm! Best ever! Hot, thick, sweet, and straight from the source!"
"So, we're doing this, then?"
She doesn't bother with playing coy, or games, or pretense. "I think we're off to a great start, don't you?"
I pause just a moment. Looks like we've both got a lot to work out, in a healthy, positive way. "I do. But..."
"But," she echoes, just a hint of apprehension flashing across her face.
"I'm starving, and you've done all this." I wave my hand at the beautifully presented plates. "Can we just go with how hot I look in your panties for now and talk about the other part after we've finished eating?" Her eyes slide down to my cock, neatly outlined in the sheer blue fabric of her panties. "Breakfast," I add for clarification.
"No promises," she winks. "But yeah, let's eat."
I follow her into the little breakfast nook that overlooks both the pool and the garden. I admire the long, shapely curves of her back and the bronzed, sculpted muscles of her gorgeous legs, but it's the squashed heart shape of her gorgeous ass that holds most all of my attention. It's like I'm seeing it for the first time and I'm transfixed by it.
Claire leans over the place settings to set down our plates. Her sweet, hot, round ass pushes towards me, just beckoning. As soon as she's let go of the plates, I plant a solid, open-palm smack right into the sweet meat of her left ass cheek.
Whack!
She groans deep in her throat and spins towards me. In a flash, she's pressed up against me, nipples digging into my chest, arms around my shoulders and neck pulling me tight against her. Her furry mons presses against my cock, still sheathed in the front of her panties. She snakes one leg up the side of my thigh and across my ass, hugging my pelvis to hers. Her lips press against mine and she moans into my throat as she furiously fucks my mouth with her tongue.
A long, hard bit of heavy breathing and tongue thrashing later, she lets go of me just a bit, stands tall on both feet and pulls her mouth from mine. "
Kuh-roysts-last fucking barmitzvah
, that was fucking hot, Nate! Jeezzus! But I fucking swear, if you smack my ass like that again right now, you're breakfast is gonna get really cold before you ever get to it!"
"Well we can't have that, not after all the work you've put into it. I can't wait to taste!" I pull her close, pressing my erection into her mons and making it clear that breakfast isn't all I'm dying to taste. I slide both hands down her back and over her ass to grip both of her cheeks. I squeeze them hard and lift her up. She wraps her legs around me and I press my pantied cock against her wet sex.
"You'll keep nice and warm while we enjoy this delicious breakfast, yeah?"
"Mmm-hmm," she sighs.
"Ok then, let's dig in!" I kick the leg of her chair to the side and deposit her ass on the seat. Then I take my seat, slip my napkin from the ring with a flourish, and lay it across my lap. I smile at Claire across our plates, picking up my knife and fork in eager anticipation.
"This looks and smells delicious Claire. Thank you!"
"Welcome home, big brother," she smiles. There's extra sauce," she adds, sliding a small boat of béarnaise across the table between us.
She watches me as I slide my fork into the muffin to steady it and slice across the top of the egg with my knife. The yolk runs out thick and golden, swirling into the pale béarnaise.
"Perfect," I tell Claire. She tucks into hers finally as I carve out a perfect first bite of egg, bacon, muffin and sauce. I shovel it into my mouth and chew slowly, deliberately; savoring and moaning mostly involuntarily.
"Mmm." I swallow. It's so damned good! The perfect homecoming dish for me. And Claire knew that. "Damn, Claire! That's fantastic! That's the third best thing I've put in my mouth this year!"
"Glad you like it," she says, wrapping her mouth around her own forkful.
I'm shoveling in another bite when she daubs her mouth with her napkin and asks, "So, what we're the other two?"
I lock eyes with her as I slowly chew and swallow. "Your tongue and what I'm wearing," I tell her. "But I'm prepared for all three to be challenged for primacy after I finish doing the dishes."
Remarkably, she blushes. It's quite cute, and quite unexpected. She giggles.
"What's so funny?"
"The thought of you doing dishes. In my panties," she titters.
