“Brad, why don’t we get some take-out and go back to my place? I’ve been dealing with crowds of people all day and I’m kind of tired and need some peace and quiet.”
Brad welcomed the opportunity to go home with Maggie but didn’t know if her telling him she was tired was some kind of message.
“Sounds good to me,” he said.
They took off their jackets and went into the crowded bar. They managed to find an open stool, which Maggie took, and Brad stood. After a couple minutes they ordered appetizers and salads to go, and a couple beers for while they waited.
Brad was dressed neatly in black jeans and a tan shirt, but Maggie was dressed in her uniform from work: a camo shirt with the store logo and her name on her left breast, and khaki pants. She looked like she was going on safari. He asked her about her day at the store and she said she was pretty sure they’d set a sales record. They’d been slammed from start to finish, much of it with hunters, since deer season would open the next day.
They got their food and Chad followed her home. Her house was a small two-bed, one-bath cottage in an older, dingy part of town. It was the same place she and her husband had rented way back when as newlyweds, and she was still living there. They ate salads at the kitchen table and put the appetizers in the fridge. Maggie put some coffee in the pot, and while it was brewing went to her bedroom to change clothes. She returned in a few minutes wearing a cream-colored housedress which clung nicely to her shoulders and breasts, her hair tied back. She laced their coffees with some Kahlua she had sitting around. They sat together on the couch in the small living room.
“Ah, this is nice,” Maggie said, sitting back and stretching. “Long day.”
“Yeah, that slave driver boss of yours needs to give you a raise,” Brad said, with a laugh.
“Yeah, you’re right. Maybe I’ll go on strike.”
“Do it. We can make signs and picket outside the store. Unionize!”
Maggie laughed. “Nah, Dad’s okay. Besides, there’s a different kind of union I’ve been thinking about.”
“There is, huh?” He smiled. “And what would that be?”
“Well, today I had a hard time keeping my mind on my work. Because I couldn’t stop thinking about last night.”
He put his hand on hers. “I’ve thought of nothing else.”
“We crossed a line.”
“We did,” he said. “And I want to keep on crossing it.”
He kissed her. It was gentle and soft and deep, their tongues slow-danced as their hands slowly got into the act. He found her breast, bare beneath the thin fabric of her dress, and her fingers traced from his shoulder, downward over his arm to his inner thigh.
“I want to make love to you,” he breathed into her ear. She smelled glorious, like fresh tangerines.
She sat back and glared into his eyes. “We’ve come this far. But if I go to bed with you it is going to change our relationship forever. I want to be sure that it changes it for the better. I couldn’t forgive myself if it changed it for the worse.”
Brad thought about how long he had admired her and wanted her. He said: “It’s going to be better, I promise. It’s going to be the best.”
She sighed, and said, “I think so, too.” She stood up and took his hand. “Come with me. I want to show you something.” She led him out of the room and down a short hallway. The coffee got cold.
Maggie opened the door and they entered her bedroom. Brad was shocked at what he saw. The lights were off but there had to be twenty candles lighted all around the room, reflecting off of the brass bedposts and the mirror atop the dresser, and filling the air with minty, piney scents. The fluffy-white bedspread was turned down halfway and satin sheets emitted a soft glimmer in the glow. There was a bottle of champagne in an ice bucket on the nightstand.
Brad was impressed, flattered and emboldened by her planning. He took her into his arms and locked his mouth onto hers. His arms surrounded her and he palmed her butt and upper back. His dick was already pumped up. He squeezed her tightly and felt her stiffening nipples against his chest.
“God, I want you,” she hissed, and began unbuttoning his shirt.
He wiggled out of his shirt and kicked off his shoes while she went to work on his belt buckle. She got his pants off and tossed them on a chair. Then she focused on his blue and white boxers.
“Ooh, silk underwear! I love silk,” she said, running her fingers over the slinky fabric covering his ass and cock and balls. “Nice touch.”
“The most comfortable underpants I’ve ever had. And they don’t bunch up.”
“They’re very nice. But they’re coming off.” She yanked them down quickly and his stiff penis bobbed up and down. She grabbed it. “This is nicer.”
She pushed him down onto the bed, then pulled her dress off her shoulders, let it drop and stepped out of it. She was down to nothing but a skimpy red thong. She flicked it with her thumb and said, “You can take this off.” Then she fell into bed.
They embraced immediately, went back to kissing and their hands fondled their bodies. He held her tight and with his hand on her ass pulled her groin close to his so she could feel his hardness. She sucked his tongue into her mouth and her fingers walked around his body.
His lips moved to her neck and shoulders and gradually to her ready breasts. Her skin crackled like a lighted fuse when he kissed them, licked them, and sucked her stiff nipples into his mouth. He went slowly and her body writhed in time with the rhythm of his loving. Her fingers were entangled in his hair and dug into his scalp as he feasted on her toasty flesh.
Maggie moaned throughout. It had been a long time and she was savoring every touch of his lips, every flick of his tongue, as he worked his way down the front of her. Her stomach, her navel, and… She gasped when he kissed her crotch barely an inch left of her soaked twat.
Brad kissed her thong, and noticed it had been treated with the same sweet, tangy citrus aroma as her neck and shoulders. He pulled it aside briefly, and she gasped again, even louder, when he slipped his tongue between her quivery lips. He pulled the thong down the length of her flailing legs to get it off, took a good whiff and tossed it on the floor.
Her pubic hair was trimmed short in a neat V above her sweet, beckoning pussy. He admired it for a moment before diving in head-first.
She shrieked like a Screech Owl when he rammed his tongue into her. He licked her in and out, her luscious lips and deep within, while he massaged her swollen clit with is upper lip. He tongue-fucked her as forcefully and as deeply as he could without getting a cramp in his neck. She swayed her groin along with him while pulling his head flush against her.
Maggie never stopped moaning. She hadn’t said a word since she’d fallen into bed. But now, her words flowed. “Oh my God!” she said, over and over.
His mouth and cheeks and chin were covered by her wetness as he sucked on. She was feeling it, getting close, he could tell. He wanted her to come already, and to come big. Then he could relieve the pressure in his stretched erection.