Afternoon Delight

This story is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to real persons is unintentional and strictly coincidental. If you are below the age of 18, or 21 depending on your locality, stop reading right now. If your government prohibits erotic literature, stop reading now and delete this. If you choose to continue, that is your decision — and your responsibility — not mine. This is intended solely for adults, and any other rebroadcast, retransmission, and account of this game is strictly prohibited by the National Hockey League. Wait —The NHL doesn't care —I care.

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originally posted 11/10/00

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"Afternoon Delight" Copyright © 2000 by John3365A@aol.com (John A).
All rights reserved.
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Afternoon Delight

by John A

The dark room was heavy with the scent of sweat and sex, its heavy drapery covering completely the solitary window, blocking out the harsh midday light and the reality beyond.

Paul rolled off of Liz, pausing to place a fleeting kiss on her lips, and collapsed tiredly on the pillow in the middle of the king sized bed. Their breathing still hadn't recovered as Liz sidled up next to her lover and rested a weary head on his shoulder. She could hear the powerful throb of his heart beating rapidly beneath his breast, its rhythmic thumping having a soporific effect on her.

Their heavy breathing was the only sound that pierced the stillness of the room as their eyes alternated between open and shut.

Liz was the first to move, reaching down and pulling the quilt over their naked bodies before she snuggled back in the crook between his arm and chest.

"How do you feel?" Liz asked tentatively, beads of perspiration settling on her upper lip.

"Wonderful. . . . Amazing. You always make me feel great," Paul smiled, angling to kiss her on the forehead.

Liz beamed, her breasts rising and falling a bit more slowly as her breathing eased. She smiled to herself as she began to twine her deep maroon fingernails in Paul's chest hair, swirling the hair around and venturing to tweak a nipple, causing him to flinch. Liz raised her eyes and they sparkled in delight at her lover as she lowered her hand down his torso, ringing his navel, before settling over his damp, flaccid penis, lightly fingering it from base to head.

Paul laughed lightly, not wanting to disturb the serenity of the moment and absentmindedly began twirling Liz's long, brown wavy hair with his fingers. Liz closed her eyes and enjoyed the sensation. She took in his aroma — no, more of a smell — and she breathed in deeply, feeling a warmth and tranquility that she only knew when they were together . . . like this.

After a few minutes, reality began creeping its pernicious way back onto Liz's thoughts. "One of these days we're going to get caught, you know? We can't keep doing this in the middle of the day. Someone's going to get suspicious, eventually."

"I don't care. I love you. If we get caught, we get caught."

Liz smiled, soaking up the remainder of her time alone with him, knowing that their afternoon rendezvous was nearing its end for another day and he would head back to his office and she would return to her normal hum-drum world of laundry and vacuuming and cooking dinner. She sighed deeply and it didn't go unnoticed by her partner.

"We'll have to get away for a weekend. Spend a couple of days just like this."

She smiled, but didn't hold out hope. Weekends had been planned before, but for one reason or another they were never seen through to fruition; something always seemed to come up. Plans, it seemed, were easy to make and even easier to break.

The first sounds of reality crept into the room about three minutes later. Liz sighed and sat up in bed, looking down at Paul and shook her head, smiling.

"Hey mom, dad," Molly shouted through the door. "Tim's being a dork again. He keeps picking on me. Are you guys almost finished cleaning the closet . . . or . . . whatever." Molly let her words hang, their implication more than enough of an indictment.

Liz's face burned crimson and Paul laughed. "We'll be out in a minute, sweetie. Tell Timmy I said to stop it," he said.

Molly ran down the stairs yelling parental threats to her brother that were never even implied by Paul. Liz had donned her jeans by this point and was throwing a green sweatshirt over her naked torso. She leaned over the bed and kissed Paul softly, lovingly.

"Look at it this way, honey," he smiled. "Only three more years until they're both away at college."

She leaned over, her eyes sparkling and looking directly into him, and kissed him again, this time taking his lower lip between hers and biting down slightly. "I can't wait."

END

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