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Sunday, November 11
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Sunday, November 11 Veteran's Day. At least, the Traditional Veteran's Day. I woke up naked, my arm over Stacy's torso. I looked at the clock. I knew Peter would be up already. I quietly got out of bed, pulled on a white tank top and a pair of red shorts with bunnies on them, and my white terry cloth robe. We could hear them last night, Peter and Bailey, fucking. Bailey was never quiet when she was coming, and she came a lot last night. Stacy and I listened for a while, then 69ed until she begged me to stop. I opened the bedroom door. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee hit me square in the nose. I went downstairs. Peter was in the breakfast nook, reading. Always reading. He looked up, smiled at me. "Good morning, Liz", he said. "Hi Baby", I said. I went to him, kissed him. His mouth smelled like coffee and Bailey's cunt. I'm sure mine smelled like Stacy. He reached for me, drew me to him. I sat on his lap. He reached for my breast, cupped it, tweaked my nipple. I moaned. He moved his hand to the top of my thigh. His fingers snaked their way inside my shorts. I was already wet. "Fuck", I whispered. "I'll let you have your way with me if you let me get some coffee". "By all means", he said. I got up, went to the kitchen, took a mug out of the cupboard, poured some coffee into it. I added sweetener, then some milk from the fridge, took a sip. Just what the doctor ordered. I looked at Peter. He had been watching me the entire time. I set the mug down, reached down, lifted my tank. I was being playful. Peter appreciated it. I went to him, made love to him on the chair. It was my turn to appreciate him.  |
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