Date: Sat, 13 Feb 1999 17:19:50 -0600 From: Merideth Johnston Subject: [WRITERS] SUB: The Newlyweds ****Monica's Erotica Contest Entry**** The Newlyweds She blinked, then squeezed her eyes shut, trying to hold onto the last night of their honeymoon for just a moment more. Maybe if she didn't wake up, she wouldn't have to tell him... She took a deep breath, and opened her eyes. The bright sunshine lit up the white ceiling as she turned her head to see if he was awake yet. He was asleep, dark hair curly against the pastel blue pillow case, his mouth soft. She let herself enjoy watching him sleep, noticing again how his skin had smoothly tanned during the two weeks of their honeymoon. She glanced at her own pale arm, with the fine blonde hairs almost invisible against the rash of freckles that the island sunshine had given her. She slid carefully out from between the sheets. He didn't move, and she grinned. Maybe she wouldn't have to tell him... She hurried down the stairs, stroking the wooden banister. He said that two generations of his family had waxed that banister until it was perfect for sliding, and the velvety slickness was a testament to the hours that they must have spent. She hadn't had a chance to really look at the house last night when they got out of the taxi from the airport, and somehow knowing that it really was her house now too made it all different. She squeezed the book as she walked into the kitchen. She set the book on the counter, opened it, and started reading it. It seemed like only seconds later when she heard him upstairs. She opened the refrigerator, looked again, shook her head, closed the refrigerator, opened one cupboard, closed it, then flipped some more pages in the book. She looked up, saw him standing in the doorway, bit her lip, and started crying. "Jennell, what's wrong?" he said, walking over and putting his arms around her. She rubbed her cheek against his chest, then looked up at his face. She opened her mouth, then closed it. "Jennell, tell me what's wrong," he said. His hand rubbed gently along her spine for a long moment. "Enoch -- I -- I..." "Whatever it is, we can take care of it." She lifted her head, looked at him, looked at that book, and shrugged. "Enoch, the truth is that I can't cook. I thought I'd sneak down here and fix you something from that cookbook, but I don't even know where to start." He laughed, and used his forefinger to lift her chin. She blinked pale pink eyelids, then looked at him steadily. "Is that all? I thought it was something serious," he said, and leaned down to kiss her, his lips warm against hers. After a moment, her lips parted and his tongue gently probed her waiting mouth. He straightened up, his arms still tight around her. "Jennell, let me show you what I really like for breakfast," he said, and winked. "Freckles!" he said, and kissed her nose. She could feel the counter behind her, and his breath warm on her cheeks as he nibbled at her cheeks with his lips. His hands slid up her ribs, raising the sweatshirt she had slipped on up to her arms. He leaned back, looked down, and whistled. "Why Mrs. Jones, there are more freckles down there, and some are bigger than others!" He slid down her, his hands holding the sweatshirt up, and began nuzzling her stomach. He nipped her lightly with his teeth, lifted his head, and said, "Oh, sorry, that one's attached." Then he grinned and kissed her bellybutton. She could feel his breath hot against her. She reached her right hand over and pulled the left side of the sweatshirt up, getting her left arm free. "Hey, can't you let a man enjoy his breakfast?" he said, lipping his way up her ribs. She shuddered and said, "No, just trying to help out." Then she slid the sweatshirt off her right arm and over her head, tossing it somewhere off to the side. She closed her eyes, wobbling in the pinkness, enjoying his hands rubbing her tension away, finding the soft spots between the ribs, the big muscles in her shoulders, and lightly skimming over skin that seemed to have an electric anticipation of where his fingers might touch. His mouth seemed to be everywhere, kissing, tonguing, nipping here and there... "Jennell, here's one of the big ones!" His lips settled on her right nipple, and she felt a shock run from there throughout her body. She leaned back, letting the counter and his strong arms hold her. He sucked her nipple through his teeth, and she reached out and pulled his head tighter against her. She could feel his grin against her breast, and then his teeth gently nipping at her engorging areola. She trembled, then turned his head and twisted her left breast into his mouth. He bit and tugged as she strained against him. She gasped as he lifted her, his hands sliding rapidly down her hips, the sweatpants suddenly dropping off her feet to the floor as she found herself sitting on the counter. "Is that too cold, Jennell?" She opened her eyes a moment and shook her head, unable to talk. She breathed deep as he slipped out of his clothes to stand before her, hair like a mat of soft steel wool encircling his own flat nipples and forming a kind of line down the middle of his chest and stomach, pointing toward the heavy beard between his thighs that didn't even make a pretense of hiding his penis, full and stiff, and the pendulous weight of his testicles hanging below. He got down on his knees and tilted his head back, a silly wide smile on his face. "And now we check out the freckle crop down here in the valleys, okay? There were certainly plenty in the mountains." She giggled. Then she shook her head, and said, "Aren't you going to be late for work?" "That's one of the advantages of owning the business. Besides, everyone knows about newlyweds, right? So I'm going to count freckles now..." His breath was warm against the soft skin of her inner thigh as he kissed it. He raised his hand, and stuck up one finger. She started giggling again. His lips softly spread her, and his tongue probed. His tongue probed, slipped, slid, touched, and... She moaned, loud and long, as she climaxed. He held her, then his tongue started probing again, and she came again...and again...and again. She opened her eyes and looked at the white ceiling. She felt as if her bones had been dissolved, and her muscles gently boiled until they were ready to fall off. But she turned her head, wondering where... On his pillow there was a note. "Jennell, Darling, I've gone to work. I'll try to get back for a little at lunch. Love, Enoch." She smiled, and fell asleep again. She woke up, glanced at the clock, and jumped out of bed. She took a long, hot shower, carefully cleaning herself. She wasn't at all surprised to find several spots where her pale skin showed the redness of a hickey. She wrapped herself in one of his bathrobes, one of the thick towel ones with his monogram on the lapel. In the kitchen, she picked up her clothes and carried them upstairs. Then she washed the counter and sat down with the cookbook at the table. She was sitting back, staring into space, with the cookbook in front of her when Enoch came home. "Jennell? Are you all right?" She sighed, looked at the cookbook, reached down and closed it, then looked at him. "Enoch, I can't cook. How could you love someone who can't even do that for you?" He walked over with his hands behind his back. "Is that all again? Wait until you see what I've got!" He brought one hand forward, revealing a bag from McDonald's. "And I got you a Monica Lewinsky toy, too! Can you guess what it is?" "Enoch, you're nuts. What are you talking about?" "It's a new toy. See, two dolls. You just put this doll's hand in this one's lap, pull twice and it comes on her dress, not in her hand!" The grotesque little figure jerked as it spewed a little cream onto the other figurine. "That's disgusting!" "If you think that's disgusting, you should try putting the cream in." She grinned. Then she reached forward and opened the bag. The smell of french fries streamed out, and she realized just how hungry she was. A few bites later, with one Big Mac and half of a super-size fries inside her, she realized that Enoch was smiling at her. "You know, Jennell, you really look good against that white robe. I know you were hungry, but I wonder if you feel better now?" She looked down at herself. The robe was oversize on her, and she had wrapped it around herself. But in sitting, then in reaching for the food, the top had loosened so that her left breast was peeking out. She had also swept the extra cloth off of her legs, so that Enoch had a clear view of her from just below the waist on down. "Much better, thank you. And just what did you have in mind, Mr. Jones?" She winked at him. He stood up, walked to her, and loosened the belt on the robe. "Well, Mrs. Jones, I actually thought I would have a few freckles to go with lunch, if you don't mind?" She ran her hands up his arms to his shoulders, then pulled him toward her a little bit. As his hands spread the robe, she said, "Actually, Enoch, I was hoping you would ask." She held his head up for a moment, kissing him while his hands moved slowly down her thighs, pausing for a moment at her crossed knees, then disappearing until she felt her breasts lifted, a thumb stroking across the nipple, then circling, circling. Each movement of his fingers seemed to send ripples of energy sliding through her breasts, deep into her, with echoes in her neck, her stomach and back, and her thighs. She slid her hands down and unbuttoned his shirt, pushing it back. He let go of her for a moment, shrugging his shirt off, and stood there, waiting for her. She slid her hand down, letting the fingertips slip inside his belt. He gasped as her fingernails stroked something down there, and she smiled. Then she let her hands work at his belt, undoing the buckle. She reached down further and slid the zipper open. She started to slide her hand inside, but the bulge was so tight... Enoch reached down and unfastened the hook-and-eye at the waist, so his pants suddenly loosened. She peeled back the waist, then slid them down his legs. He stepped out of them, his boxer shorts pulled out of shape by the pillar of muscle that was standing up and forward between his legs. She stroked the hot strong rod through the thin cloth, and felt him tremble. "Now, be patient, Jenelle, let me have a few freckles before you get too exciting for me to handle!" He kneeled, his boxer shorts gaping and falling back as the reddish-purple penis slipped out. He put his hands on her knees and slid them up the outside of her thighs, then up her ribs more slowly, caressingly, as he leaned forward and kissed her left breast. She could feel her nipple straining under his lips, and she arched her back, pushing herself closer to him. He slid his right hand back down, down between her thighs. She could feel his finger lightly stroking the folds of her, slowly teasing the edges of her being. He nibbled on her right breast, his head turned sideways, rubbing his cheek against it, lip kissing it, then nipping. His left hand was somewhere behind her, stroking and lifting the base of her spine, sending heat throughout her as he touched the dimples just above her cheeks, then gripped her right cheek, testing its size and consistency, spreading her from behind while his right fingers dove deeper into the center. She threw her head back, her mouth open, her eyes closed, and moaned. She felt him everywhere, and she tried to pull him into herself as she felt the world explode from inside herself. When Enoch opened the front door that evening, Jennell was standing naked at the head of the stairs in all her glory. The evening sunset painted her with golden light, long legs spread just a bit, breasts proudly standing, with a rash of freckles everywhere. She set her finger against her mouth, then beckoned him in. He stepped forward and pulled the door shut behind him. He stared up at her. She grinned down at him, then swung herself up on the bannister and slid down. He started laughing. She jumped down off the bannister, winked at him, then ran up the stairs, mounted the bannister, and slid down again. This time he caught her at the bottom of the stairs and kissed her solidly. "All right, Jennell, what are you doing?" She hugged him close, and whispered in his ear, "Warming up your dinner freckles for you, of course. Are you up for it?" ******************** Monica's Erotica Contest Entry ************************ Merideth Johnston, Contest Judge Take a look at Monica's Erotica Contest and write to "Merideth Johnston" before Valentine's Day is over. Time is running out for entries! merideth@sky.net ;)-{8-->= li'l wimyn @-{--E=