0 comments/ 21225 views/ 0 favorites The Stroke of Midnight By: Southernhelle THWACK! The dart entered the center red circle and my opponent groaned in defeat. I had closed out everything and had about 100 points on top of it. Not bad for a female at almost 2:00 am with about ten mudslides- with- an- extra- shot- of- vodka wreaking havoc in her system. I had come to this dirty little biker bar in the weirdo- hippie- punk- rock- freak section of town looking to take home some horny man for a night of meaningless rough sex and had ended up talking about the damned snow in Vermont with a bespectacled woman that I had taken for uptight but who was actually turning out to be quite a firecracker. We had sat at the bar for a couple of hours talking about Vermont because we had both lived there, loser men because we had both had them, and french erotica because we both had a passion for Anais Nin and Georges Bataille. She was drinking straight vodka and I was guzzling the aforementioned concoctions like there was no tomorrow. Not a single man had approached either of us all night, and in addition to finding it hilarious (we must have looked like a couple of dykes, talking and laughing loudly, pounding down hard liquor), it was nice to have a break from the usual pickup procedures. Funny how things happen - like I said, that was exactly what I had intended to attract when I set out for the evening. Her name was Courtney and she had just moved to Atlanta from Tucson, Arizona. She was attending Georgia State University, working towards a masters degree in child development. Like me, she had moved around a lot as a child, living in pretty much every region of the U.S. She had grand hopes for Atlanta but was already dreaming about where she would move when school was over. I, too, had come to Atlanta to find "something" and was in the process of moving to some tiny town on the east coast of Florida. She was dressed plainly in jeans and a black t-shirt. I was decked out in a tight black dress with a severe slit up the side. Something attracted us to each other, though, and I was loving the company. "Damn!" She pretended to sulk as she pulled the darts out of the board. "I'm horrible at this game anyway." I slurped the last of my drink from the glass and set it down with gusto, drawing an annoyed look from the bartender. "Too bad they don't have cards here, I'd whip your ass at gin too." She grinned at me and shook her head, cheeks flushed from the alcohol. I announced my need for a trip to the restroom and she said she was going to go order us more drinks. I stumbled to the back of the bar and into the bathroom. Closing the door to a stall, I hiked up my dress and sat down. I leaned back and closed my eyes, feeling everything swimming and churning and spinning in my head. "Toooooo much alcohol.." I sighed, finished my business, and lurched out and to the sink. I looked into my own leary blood-shot eyes and smiled. "Hey, Courtney, I'm no dyke, but I'd like nothing more than to run my hands up your thighs and drive my tongue down your throat." I chortled at the stupidity of what I had just said to my reflection. It was true though. I was attracted to her in a way I had never felt about a woman. I kept trying to brush it off as the inebriation speaking, but the warmth between my thighs whenever I thought about her lying nude on my bed was impossible to dismiss. The door slammed open and I jumped at the sound. Courtney stood there, slightly swaying, a drink in each hand. "Are you going to come out or should we just bring the party in here?" She took a few steps towards me and let the door close behind her. We giggled as she held my drink out to me and I spilled some of it on the floor. "Cheers, dahling!" With that she tipped her glass back and downed it in a single swallow. Her cheeks turned bright red for a second, her eyes watered. "Whew!" She cupped her hand under the faucet and drank some water from it. I sipped my drink through the straw as she stood up, wiped her face, and declared that the last drink of the night. We went back out and sat down in a booth. Looking at each other across the table, we started grinning. "What?" "What, yourself?" "I asked you first!" We broke into a fit of snorty laughter and I thought I was about to just tell her I wanted to spend the night with her. "Too bad none of these guys are my type - I really feel like a fuck right now." I was a bit taken aback by this comment, but I murmured a shared sentiment. Damn it, Courtney. I sat back and closed my eyes for a second. My heart was beating like crazy and my palms were sweaty. What was I thinking? I had never been with a woman before, and this girl could turn out to be a good friend and I was actually going to fuck it up by propositioning her?!? "I am soooooo drunk." I looked at her from slightly raised eyelids as she nodded agreement. "How far away do you live?" Shit, that's right! I had a LONG drive ahead of me. "Um, like 20 miles." I smiled sheepishly as she shook her head. "You are NOT going home like this. I live just up the block. You can sleep on my couch or something." She stood up and got the check from the bartender. As she sat back down she tossed it on the table. "$82.50." We cracked up at this for some reason, left $100 on the bar, and walked out into the night. "Do you realize for that amount we could have bought ten times as much liquor at a store?" I asked. "That's insane." She finished lighting a cigarette and pointed out, "Yeah, but then we never would have met each other..I don't go out much. I almost stayed home tonight." We walked in silence for a minute, listening to the gravel crunch under our feet. I heard her inhale then breathe the smoke out. It was difficult to keep walking but my body went on automatic pilot or something and I managed a pretty straight path. After a few minutes she flicked the half-smoked cigarette into the road and said, "It's just up here, the blue house." She pointed a few houses up the road to a partially-hidden Victorian surrounded by trees and bushes. The landscaping was immaculate, the house well-kept. "It's beautiful!" "Yeah, the landlords are gay, I think that's why." She laughed. "They always seem to have a better eye for things than straight men." We walked up the front steps and she unlocked the security door. She led me up the first flight of steps, then the next. "The stairs are a pain sometimes, but I got the cool ceilings and windows for my trouble.." She turned and smiled at me as she pushed her front door open. The first thing that hit me was the smell. It was incredibly soft, musky, like sandalwood and juniper. A lot of my friends like to burn incense and they totally overdo it, creating billowing clouds of raunchy odor. This was nice, like aromatherapy. She switched on the light to reveal one huge room, but it was organized to form different spaces for different needs. To the left the floor sunk a few steps into a living area with a kitchen wrapping aroud behind it. To the right was a queen-sized four poster bed with an elegant cherry nightstand and dresser. The walls were a medium blue color, creating a very tranquil atmosphere. "This is the most amazing apartment I have ever seen!" I felt like a little kid at Disneyland, gaping at everything. "Well, thanks!" She threw her keys on a table and proceeded to push her shoes off. She padded over to the kitchen and opened a cabinet. "Want some tylenol? I always find that taking two at night after drinking usually eliminates a hangover.." "Sure." I bent over and unbuckled my shoes. As I stood up she walked towards me holding a bottle and a glass of water. "Hold your hand out." She dropped a couple of tablets into my palm, handed me the glass, and recapped the bottle as I gulped the pills down. I put the glass down on the table and looked at her still standing there. She was watching me with a little smile on her face. We stood there for a second, not saying anything. "I don't want to make you uncomfortable..." Say it say it say it say it..... "...because I've had a REALLY good time with you tonight and I want to stay friends. The thing is..." Thank you god, I will go to church and tithe and all that bullshit... "...I wanted to hold your hand when we were walking back here. I wanted to embrace you when we got in the door. I want to kiss you now. And I want you to sleep in the bed with me, whether anything happens or not." She looked down at the floor, clearly uncomfortable with the uncertainty of what she had just said. "OK." OK? That was all I could muster? I had a million things I wanted to say to her, that she was beautiful, that I felt the same way, that I wanted to make love to her and taste her and feel her body on mine and next to me and.... She reached out and ran the outside of her hand lightly across my cheek. I closed my eyes and sighed, nuzzling back againt her a little. She took a step towards me and reached out with her other hand to brush my hair back from my face. "You're so soft..." she whispered, her breath warm on my face. Her lips grazed mine, sending shivers throughout my body. I pressed back, feeling her full lips againt mine, parting them a little, running my tongue across them... Her hand pressed me closer to her, our lips parted, and her tongue sought mine. This was the most passionate kiss I have ever experienced. Her tongue slowly circled mine, pressed it, retreated...I felt the heat rushing between my legs and shifted, feeling the friction on my throbbing clit. She broke away and looked into my eyes, matching the lust there with equal intensity. Her hand slid down my neck and flattened out as it came into contact with my breast, squeezing lightly, kneading the flesh. She found my erect nipple and pinched gently, causing a low moan to escape from me. My breasts had never been particularly sensitive to stimulation but this felt like there was a direct connection between my chest and my pussy. I actually felt a drop of moisture escape and roll slowly down the inside of my thigh. "You want to go lay down on the bed with me?" she asked. I nodded and she turned off the light and locked the door as I walked towards the bed. Once there I turned around, feeling slightly awkward. She walked up and slid her arms around my waist, pulling me close to her. Our breasts met and I could feel her hard nipples through her shirt. As we kissed again, more urgently this time, I reached down and cupped both of her breasts. I massaged around the sides and up to the nipples, which I twisted lightly and flicked with my fingers. She groaned and pulled away from my mouth, her hands covering mine, leading me to squeeze harder. She leaned in and licked my neck from my collarbone to my earlobe. She sucked gently all over, causing waves of pleasure to course through my body. I was losing my concentration on what I was doing with her but she didn't seem to mind. Her hands returned to my tits and circled around, rubbing and caressing and tweaking my aching nipples. I was nervous as hell, wanting to move my hands further down, but it was like there was a barrier there preventing me from going below her chest. Everything about Courtney was turning me on - she was a wonderful kisser, she smelled great, and she tasted even better. I was feeling the first waves of pleasure coming over me - how insane that I might actually orgasm without having had any sort of stimulation "down there". Our moans and breathing mixed with the licking and sucking sounds againt the quiet night were a powerful aphrodesiac, and I felt like I was on a totally different plane. I ran a hand slowly between her tits, across her sternum, and down her belly where my fingers ran lightly across her navel. She twitched a little and smiled. "I'm ticklish.." I moved my hand a little lower and she backed away a bit. "You probably don't want to do that.." "Why?" "That time of the month.." She looked apologetically at me as she caressed my hair. Shit. I didn't know that I would ever feel comfortable initiating things with another girl, and who knew how things would be in the morning, when we were both sober. I stood still for a moment, wishing desperately that I wasn't so intoxicated - I couldn't even think rationally to try to figure out whee to go from here. She saved me from further thinking by pushing me gently back on to the bed. "That doesn't mean we can't explore at all.." She raised my leg in the air, bending my knee, running her hand slowly across my shinbone. She unbuckled my shoe and tossed it onto the couch, smiling wickedly up at me as she brought my foot to her face, running the sole across her cheek. She slipped my big toe into her mouth and lightly sucked, causing me to burst out laughing. She sucked harder, running her finger across my sole as I squirmed, trying to get away. We were both laughing pretty hard as she let my leg down, then raised the other to remove my other shoe. My giggles died down and I watched her taking her time, looking at my body stretched out on her bed. "You're very beautiul. I want you to know that it's hard for me to find a woman attractive in a sexual light. The minute I saw you I knew we would become lovers.." Although this was kind of a brash statement, I understood it. I hadn't thought the exact same thing, but there had been an almost immediate attraction to her. She got up on the bed and pushed my dress up to my hips. I felt exposed, lying there with just my panties hiding my very obvious arousal. "I can smell you..." She ran her hands up my legs from my ankles, slowly, massaging at every stop along my thighs. I spread my legs a little wider, relishing the sensation of her soft hands on my flesh. After what felt like hours of torture, her hands delicately ran over the edge of my panties, up the sides of my hips, and began to trace the waistband. "Mind if I pull these off?" she whipered. "Uh-uh..." It came out more as a soft moan than a statement, but fuck it. Everything this girl did was causing little pleasure explosions in my groin. The panties came off and were flung somewhere near my shoes. She repeated the slow leg massage, driving me crazy with desire, and I was trying to scoot her closer, faster. My beathing was out of control and I was convinced that the second she touched my clit I would explode in a pulsating, screeching orgasm. I was wrong though. It was like three pulating screeching orgasms. When she got to my thighs she bent her head down. Her tongue came to rest right above my pubic hair, where it drew slow cicles of saliva on my skin. She slid down a little, tracing a path down to my slit. Once there she gently pulled me open with her fingers and licked once at my clit. Some weird banshee cry came out of me and my body felt like it rose off the bed. If anything had been in me I think I would have pulverized it with the strength of the contractions in my vagina. The heat and the pleasure were almost unbearable. She lay there between my legs, waiting out the storm, probably getting a very good glimpse of raw emotion. When I finally came down I was crying and laughing and trembling. "Courtney, I - " "shhh..." She was kneeling between my legs now, hitching my dress up further. As she began to massage my breasts, she started humming something. I closed my eyes, relishing the total relaxation. "You want another one?" I almost thought I had imagined it (because I could have sworn I dozed off for a second), but when I opened my eyes she was sort of leaning over me, waiting for an answer. I nodded my head and she adjusted herself on the bed, lying next to me. "I want to see you touch yourself." Odd. But ok. I reached down and started rubbing my clit, still sensitive from my monumental orgasm awhile ago. She reached down and pushed a finger slowly into me, working it around inside, pulling it slowly back out. "You have a wonderful pussy, nice and tight. I wish I had a dick..I'd fuck you all night long." She licked my nipple as she said this, voice low and seductive. I have never been with anyone that talked dirty like that - I mean, the best I ever really got was the oh-yeah-oh-shit-yeah-fuck-yeah-oh-god-oh-god-oh-god. She pulled her finger out and when she put it back there was another one with it. She started a slow rhythm, in, out, in, out...the odd little tingling was coming back, and I was rubbing my clit a little more inistently. "I want you to come for me baby, I want to feel your orgasm on my hand...come on...get yourself off..I love to feel you fingering yourself.." She actually started moaning. This totally drove me over the edge. Forgetting once again to be quiet, I stated moaning and panting, gyrating against her hand a little, massaging the hell out of my now completely engorged clit as she kept pushing her fingers deep inside me. I felt the orgasm brimming to the surface and started thrashing around, feeling like my body was collapsing in on itself. "Courtneeeeeyyyy......oh goooood....." My hips were bucking with the strength of my climax, I was sweating and screwing my face up in concentration, wincing with each throb of my pussy. As it subsided I was completely exhausted, drifting off to sleep even as Courtney removed her clothes and laid down next to me. "I love you," I whispered. And I meant it, at least in some way...she curled up next to me, our legs intertwined. Her hand rested on my breast, her head in the crook of my arm. I thought I heard her talking but it could also have been a dream. I don't remember a thing after that, but in the morning when I woke up it was raining and Courtney was still sleeping. The dark and the warmth of her apartment mixed with the soothing sound of the rain outside lulled me back to sleep almost immediately. The Stroke of Midnight It was just turning that preternatural gray that heralds the coming of morning. Clare rolled over in the wide sleigh bed and stretched. Sean was NOT in bed. Where on earth could he be? it was their seventh wedding anniversary - New Year's Eve. That it was a Saturday was a double bonus, since it meant neither one had to make up an excuse for not going to work, and it meant they could sleep in. So where WAS he? She sat up, and looked out the window. A winter wonderland met her delighted gaze, and it was still snowing. Hard! "Honey!" she called out, hopping out of bed. She had just turned thirty on Christmas Eve, to Sean's forty. She was a diminutive girl, barely passing the five foot mark, while her husband was a solid six-footer with an inch or two to spare. But what she lacked in height, she made up for in muscle and mouth. "Sean!" she hollered at the top of her lungs, and jumped when he said, behind her, "Boo!" He easily avoided the slap she aimed at him, and scooped her up in his arms like so much thistledown. She relaxed immediately, and snuggled into his chest, feeling his lips on her cheeks. His touch electrified her, no matter how asexual it was. "Happy anniversary, sweetheart!" he whispered, before caressing her lips with his. Still a gentle touch, with no hint of the passion and power she knew he was so good at concealing. "What are we going to do today?" she asked, when he deposited her back on the bed. "Everything I do today will be a gift!" he promised. "But you'll love them -- all seven of them!" He bent and tasted her top lip, leaving a wet spot that he blew on before he stood up again. "Ready for the first one?" Sean explained that they were to spend the entire day at home, and that he would be ministering to her every need, and giving her seven of the personal attentions she most desired and enjoyed. Each gift would be accompanied by kisses, to match the number of the gift. The first gift, her favorite breakfast -- eggs over easy, ham, Canadian bacon, hash browns, banana pancakes, strawberry syrup -- had ended with the first of what were to become increasingly more seductive and sensual kisses, pulling a response from her that she did not know she could give from kissing alone...and that had been hours ago. It was already 11:00 p.m., and Clare had already received five of her seven gifts, including the facial - # 2, the manicure -- # 3, the foot massage - # 4, and the pedicure - # 5. She blushed when she remembered the heated kisses they had shared after each gift had been given and received. Each set of kisses had been hotter and more seductive than the ones before, because Sean had varied not only his techniques, but also the places on which he'd sucked and licked her, and left the lingeringly sweet impression of his tongue and teeth and lips. She hadn't discovered until today that Sean knew a lot more about her than she realized. She heard him in the bathroom, and heard water running. Ah! A bath was gift # 6. She felt smug -- she hadn't been able to guess any of the surprise gifts up to this point, and when he walked into the room, she said triumphantly, "This one's not a surprise! You're setting a bath!" "Ah! But a bath such as you've never had before, my sweet! And therein lies the surprise!" He pulled her up from the chaise where she had been lounging, reading the latest in a series of romance novels that he had bought for her. "Come on, the water's warm!" He pulled her into the bathroom, and the scent of jasmine flavored the air. Steam rose from the tub, shadowing the windows. Candlelight threw the room into seductive light and shade, and music was playing in the background. She listened, letting him tug her pajama bottoms down her legs. It was a country love song, one of her favorites, by Tim McGraw, one of her favorite singers. She hummed along, feeling her heart begin to beat faster, and her hearing her breath begin to quicken. Sean's hands were teasing her flesh, and his breathing was faster, too. "Get in!" he invited her hoarsely, before planting a wet kiss on a nipple. Clare stepped into the bath, and the heat of the water seeped into her as she sank up to her neck in suds. Sean put a rolled neck pillow behind her head, and she lay back and closed her eyes. "Mmmmmm! Thanks, sweetie! This is great!" When he didn't answer, she opened her eyes, and saw that he was standing over her, staring down into her face, and not hiding the love he felt for her, or the desire that raged in him. "Make way!" he said, and stepped in, settling himself opposite her on the other side of the tub. He leaned back and closed his eyes, and Clare watched him, marveling that such a man as this could love her. "Come here!" he said, without opening his eyes, as though he knew she was staring at him. She slid around the side and came to rest next to him, and he pout his arm around her shoulders, turning his head to look at her. "Are you enjoying your day, sweetheart?" he wanted to know, but kissed her before she could answer. "Because you should know, I'm enjoying mine. Immensely!" His tongue left a warm trail across her cheeks, stopping on the way to delight in the plumpness of her lips, and the succulent sweetness of her tongue on his. He turned slightly and put both arms around her, pulling her over onto his lap. He was hard as a wall, and his cock twitched when she settled her bottom against it. The song on the CD had changed -- it was Faith Hill now, singing about kisses. "You're so soft," he said, almost in wonder. Clare chuckled, and looked up at him. "And you're not," she said, and pushed her bottom against his erection. He groaned. "Behave, missy!" he admonished her. "Not time for that yet!" He kissed her again, slow, deep, wet, making her wish it were time right then. "Would the lady like her back scrubbed?" he wondered aloud. "Deluxe service in this establishment includes a back rub with the bath, and champagne. The champagne will be waiting for my lady when she has been powdered and lotioned and perfumed." Clare giggled. "The service so far today at Chez McLaughlin's has been superlative!" She whispered. "Especially the bonus kisses after each treatment!" She turned her face up, and Sean lowered his head, willing to oblige her and give her the kiss she sought. Their tongues mated passionately, before Sean raised his head reluctantly, clearing his throat. "The back scrub, my lady, is next on the agenda!" The song changed again, and now it was a song about a party for two by another favorite, Shania Twain. Clare let him wash her back, and moaned when he turned his attention to her front. Her breasts ached for his touch, and every time he passed by her clit, she sighed with intense pleasure. "Sean!" She called his name, and he slid a finger over her aching bud. "Baby, please!" "Patience, my lady!" he said hoarsely. "Things can only get better, you know!" Billy Currington began to croon his tune about how he must be doing something right, and suddenly, Clare was impatient to be out of the bath. She was ready for "better" NOW! But Sean tortured her, washing her tenderly, sensually, teasing her aching flesh, and by the time he had given her the last of the six kisses that went with this gift, she was trembling with need, and wet inside the sexy pink thongs he had bought for her, to wear with the hot pink kitty cat nightie top with the cut away belly panel that allowed her outie belly button to peep out at him before he kissed it, sucking it in and tickling it with his teeth before licking it one last time. Never had Clare been so alive with need, so edgy with desire. Sean had strung her along all day, and now she felt as though she would die if he didn't take her right then and there! She trembled even after he sat her on the chaise and wrapped her in a thick animal-print fur blanket. He left her with a warm kiss o her lips, and a knowing smile on his, to let the water out of the tub. When he walked back in he carried a bottle of champagne and two fluted glasses. He popped the top, poured the golden liquid into the glasses and set the bottle aside before bringing her glass to her. She slid a warm hand out from under the blanket to take the glass, and tipped it to his as he said, "Happy anniversary, my darling!" She sipped the sparkling beverage, and put the glass on the table by her hand. "It's almost midnight, Sean!" She looked at the clock, and then at the television that he had brought into the room for the evening. "The ball will be dropping soon. What's my final gift?" He had brought the music into the room with him, and the candlelight, which she had only now noticed, cast the far reaches of the room into shadow. From one of those shadows, Clare heard a sexy male voice telling his lover that he wanted to kiss her all over. At the same moment, Sean slid the blanket off her shoulders and dropped a sweet, warm kiss on her right shoulder. He let his tongue linger there, tickling her, before sliding it up her neck to her earlobe, which he bit gently, and then licked, once, twice, again. He breathed heavily in her ear, and sang, in time with the CD, "I wanna kiss you all over!" Clare shook, and turned her head for a kiss. Sean obliged, taking her mouth and owning it, sliding down to his knees by the side of the chaise, holding her in his arms, not moving his mouth from hers, till they both needed to breathe. He raised his eyes to the clock on the dresser, and then took her sexy nightie and pulled it over her head. "Turn over, babe!" He helped her roll over, and she felt him move away. She shivered, both with the sudden chill and anticipation. She heard him move again, and turned her head to see him standing over her with a small vial and a black silk scarf. He folded the scarf, and said to her, "Close your eyes!" Clare complied, and felt him ties the scarf around them. "Open them now. Can you see anything?' "No!" She shivered again, this time only in anticipation. "Lie down again, " he said, and turned her onto her belly. She felt his hands on her, as he massaged her, starting at her shoulders, going down her arms, sliding his hands over her back, smoothing her buttocks, and then finally reaching her legs. He squeezed and kneaded and rubber her into a puddle of sexual desire and then he said, "Roll over!" He sounded as though he had a sore throat, and Clare thrilled to the knowledge that this exquisite torture was getting to him, too! She turned onto her back, and felt his hands on her shoulders again. Her breasts ached for his touch, and when he finally touched them she almost came. She fought to stay focused on the pleasure his hands were giving her, clenching her fists at her side. "Relax, baby! Let it go!" He bent his head and sucked an erect nipple into his mouth, and when she was almost mewling with need, he let go, and smoothed the oil over it, bringing her right back to the brink. Then he let it go, and the cold air, chilling her warm flesh, soothed the ache in her loins. The exquisite pleasure continued, Sean making her ride to the very edge of an orgasm, and bringing her back. She wished she could see his face, and the fact that she was only able to feel and not see added immeasurably to the eroticism of the experience. When he passed a now obviously trembling hand over her mound, letting his finger rest heavily in the slit, she arched off the chaise, trying to get him to touch her. She heard him chuckle. "I'm gonna get you for this, Sean!" she managed, over the cotton in her throat. "I sure hope so, sweetheart! I'm looking forward to it!" He cleared his own throat, and continued to torment her with his fingers, adding his lips and his tongue. When he touched her clit, it was, at first a teasing pass with the tip of his finger. Then he came back, but this time, what she felt, as he spread the lips of her sex, was not a finger, but warm oil. It slid down one side, and then the other, and still he didn't touch her. She groaned when it reached her wet center. "SEAN!" she called out to him, and he touched her then, a hard finger against her hard clit. "Please baby!" "Soon, babe, I promise. Almost there now!" His hand shook as he smoothed the oil over her thighs, and down her legs, giving her time to come down from the high place that he had just led her up. The singer on the CD now promised to make love to his lover all through the night. The men's voices washed over her heightened senses, and when Sean hummed along with them, she felt a gush wet her already soaking pussy. Sean bent and placed his lips over her clit, sucking on it, then passing his tongue over it slowly, teasingly, tasting the essence of the woman he loved. He hummed along with the song, knowing she could feel the vibrations on her turgid flesh, and then he picked up the little instrument at his hand, the one he had hidden from her, and inserted it into her wet center. She gasped, for it was cold, and he picked up the remote control and switched it on, watching as his wife tensed, arched her back, and came. He smiled, and kissed her mouth, drawing her tongue into his and sucking on it, letting her taste herself on his tongue. "Is that what I think it is, babe?" Clare asked. "I don't know. What do you think it is?" She could hear the smile in his voice. "A vibrator!" She waited, and when he didn't answer she said, "Well? Is it?" "You tell me!" he answered, and turned a little knob on the control. "Ohhh!"" she gasped again, and moaned. "Well?" he asked, echoing her words. "Is it?" He chuckled when she swatted at him, and bent to kiss her there, licking her in that most intimate of places. The combination of his mouth and the little vibrator brought her to another orgasm. The clock said he had two minutes. He reached up and removed the blindfold, and turned her so she could watch the ball drop with him at midnight. He kissed her, another long, wet kiss, claiming the prize he had won seven years before. "I love you, sweetheart! With all my heart!" The countdown began, and Sean slid his naked body up hers, parting her legs as he did so, sucking her tongue into his mouth one more time, waiting till the stroke of midnight... "Happy New Year, Mrs. McLaughlin!" Sean managed, before he lost himself in her... The ball stopped. On the CD, Faith Hill begged Tim McGraw, "Let's Make Love".