2 comments/ 13007 views/ 2 favorites Adventures of Lionel & Sondra By: l8bloom Be advised this story is intentionally rife with POV shifts, misdirected adjectives, and other wanton misuse of literary convention. Please turn back now if such fripperiness gets on your nerves. Thanks. : ) L8. * The Adventures of Lionel & Sondra chapter one -- watching TV "Television? But you never watch television. And you know I don't either." Lionel was confused by Sondra's request. Besides, she didn't look like she wanted to spend an evening watching TV. What she looked like, was a) like she was up to something, and b) like she wanted to nuzzle the nape of his neck. He knew her well enough by now to know that a) usually equaled b) or some variant thereof. Her math was pretty transparent. Sondra gave a small, hopeful smile and shrugged her shoulders. "You could bring the popcorn." She looked undaunted. "Okay, but you're up to something." He encircled her in his arms and gave her the gift of his kiss. Fleetingly she squeezed his ass. "Great, see you tonight!" she chirped. She looked really happy. He loved seeing her smile. He went back to work. The phone was ringing again. Lionel's main job consisted of explaining things that were simple to him, but complicated to other people. Luckily, he liked his customers, and explained things well. Sondra didn't really understand his work, but that was okay. Hers made no sense to him either. In their part of the world, homes with basements were difficult to come by. The earth's rocky crust was loathe to yield to the whims of man. Yet, Lionel and Sondra made so damn much money, they could have used dollar bills for wallpaper. They could afford such a house. So it was that at seven p.m., Lionel had the distinct pleasure of sauntering downstairs into what amounted to a cool underground cave. He carried a big bowl of popcorn. As he rounded the corner, he stopped in his tracks. Their lair had been transformed. All the furniture was pushed up against the walls. The floor was covered with big, thick cushions and soft-looking rugs and blankets. Sondra had been busy. On the walls she had wantonly driven little fixtures, each bearing a simple tealight candle. Lionel gawped. There must be fifty of them. Either a) he was going to need a lot of spackling or b) he was going to get laid. Hm, why not both? His woman appeared from the next room. When she saw the look on his face, she broke into a big smile. "Like it?" "Uh, yeah…" He looked around some more. "How did you do this?" Her forehead wrinkled. "With a hammer? Is this a trick question?" Lionel laughed. "Okay, Pretty One. Whatever you say. I thought you wanted to watch TV." "Oh, I do," she said innocently. "I mean, a movie. Guess I should have clarified that." Definitely -- she was definitely up to something. She took the popcorn from his arms and invited him to get comfortable. With one more affectionate smile, she clicked the remote. It was a movie he had seen before -- Solaris. Lionel gave Sondra a curious look, then turned his attention to the screen. Side by side, they lay on their stomachs, watching George Clooney fall in love with Natascha McElhone. Except for the crunching & munching of the popcorn, the room grew quiet. Sondra propped her chin on the pillow, watching the couple on the screen. George and Natascha weren't wearing much. It was clear they both worked out. Sondra, too, had seen the film before, but not quite under these circumstances. It was different, watching people make love on the screen, with her man beside of her. Ever since he had sent her the link to that video, she had fantasized about watching stuff with him. She couldn't quite bring herself to use the word, porn. Sondra was by no means a virgin, but it was also true that, sexually speaking, there was quite a bit of unexplored territory. And Lionel had been her best tour guide to date. Now he had his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. He shifted his body so that his hip nearly overlapped her butt. "Is this what you wanted?" he asked softly. His face was near her hair. Sondra couldn't speak. She could only nod and turn pink. He kissed the side of her blushing face. He could feel the heat in his own. "Why didn't you say so?" he asked quietly. But his question was rhetorical. He knew sometimes she was inexplicably shy. He caressed her hip and lipped at her ear. "Where did you put all the other DVDs?" She pointed to a box in the corner. "Over there." "Wait here." She watched as he dug through the box. He gave her a knowing look and changed the disc, then lay back down beside her and pushed buttons on the remote. He watched her face as much as the screen. He watched her eyes widen and the roses bloom in her cheeks. She moistened her lips, looked at him and snuggled closer. Lionel reached around her back. His hand found the curve of her breast. Again he moved in close, leaning his hip against hers. Sondra leaned her body still closer to Lionel's, shifting her back toward his chest. Lionel sensed the increased access to her breast, and took it. He reached around further, capturing more of her flesh in his hand. He massaged her breast in a slow, sensuous motion, lifting it, playing with it. Her shirt was in the way. He slid his hand up under her shirt, feeling her warm, smooth skin. On the screen a man stood facing a woman. They were both naked. His hands fondled her breasts. She reached for his erection and began to stroke him. The two stared at each other, their eyes glazed over with lust. Lionel and Sondra watched as the couple kissed. Just before their mouths met, the woman's tongue flashed out and licked the man's lower lip. Lionel's fingertips found the satiny skin of Sondra's nipples. Lightly he stroked the tender tips, teasing them to hardness. He knew that it was too soon to pinch them, but soon she would be in desperate need of the firmer touch. He circled a fingertip around the points, first one, then the other, feeling them harden in response to his touch. He told her how lovely she was. His breath tickled and teased her ear. The couple on the screen was now in a similar pose, only vertical. The man stood behind the woman. His hands cupped her breasts as he nipped and teased at her neck. The camera showed his erection bobbing against the woman's ass. Sondra was trembling in Lionel's arms, making soft moans of pleasure and saying yes to him. She could feel his hardness pressing insistently against her backside. She wiggled her bottom in his lap, knowing exactly what reaction she caused in him. Lionel groaned in her ear and snaked his arm underneath her body. Now her back was pushed completely up against his chest, and he reached for her breasts with both hands. She gave a little cry of passion at his touch. He groaned at how good she felt in his hands. He played with her breasts freely, rubbing them, moving them around and hefting their weight. "Watch this part, it gets better." Lionel's voice was husky in Sondra's ear. Sondra could barely keep her mind on the movie any longer, but she did as he suggested. She was somewhat shocked at how explicit the images were. The woman on the screen bent over, legs apart, exposing her sex. The man said something like, Oh baby, you're so fuckable, I'm going to fuck you now, and he did. There was a close-up shot of the penetration. "Do you want me to do that to you?" Lionel's voice was hoarse. "Yes, yes, …" Sondra was tearing off her sweatpants as fast as she could. Lionel watched over her shoulder as she dipped her middle finger into her swollen wet lips. She put the finger in his mouth, feeling his tongue. He sucked on that finger, driving them both further down the road, and he, too, scrambled out of his clothes. "Take me from behind … please…." He grabbed her hips. "Spread your legs for me." Instantly she complied. Her pussy came into view, just as the woman's on the screen had done. The sight roused his lust from simmer to roar. Lionel groped between her legs, probing her wetness. She was fully creamed and ready for him. She looked over her shoulder, "Fuck me, baby!" "Get on your hands and knees!" He had but to ask. She was wild to feel him inside her. He entered her, watching his cock disappear between her lips. He was lost in the sensation of burying his rod in her hot, wet fissure. Her internal muscles engulfed him completely in a snug velvet grip. He pulled back, and thrust back in. The friction sent sweet waves of delight through both of their bodies. Their moans were echoed by the couple on the screen. Lionel and Sondra could both see the man's cock pumping into the woman. Sondra cried out at the combination of visual and physical stimulation. She began to shudder and jerk her hips around. "That's it! Cum for me, Sondra!" Lionel drove her on with his words as well as his cock. He fucked her faster, pushing her orgasm as far as it would go. He didn't want to cum yet. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pushed her flat to the floor, then rolled them over so she was on top. Her nipples pointed skyward, begging for his attention. He pinched them, and she arched her back, pushing her ass into his groin. He wrapped his legs around hers, holding her fast. "Touch yourself," he demanded. Sondra fingered her clit, tormenting the sensitive bud, feeling the tension rush through her body again. Lionel felt her start to shake and urged her on. She cried out, all of her muscles spasming at once, and threw her head backwards, narrowly missing his. "Oh, baby," she panted. Her desire to please him, to make him cum, was overwhelming. "How do you want me?" "I want to see your eyes…" She slid off of him and rolled over. Then she mounted him, settling into the pose that she knew brought him joy. She could see the pleasure in his face. Her eyes sparkled into his. "Oh, god, you're so sexy!" she told him. All at once, her feelings for him rushed forward, caramel into honey into gold, all the desire interlaced with all the affection and caring, meshed with the joy of just liking him. She fluttered inside, delicate as a cream confection, and Lionel sensed her feelings for him, and his supernova boiled her sugar. Both of their bodies whipped to a frothy peak, her cries mingling with his moans. She bucked erratically on top of him and let the sensations of joy control her utterly. Powdered sugar snowflakes seemed to dance in the air around them. They sounded like distant chimes emanating from a cloud on a mountain that no one had ever climbed -- no one but them, anyway. Sondra held fast to her boyfriend and buried her face in his neck. She whispered the words that had never been easy for her to say -- the hidden part of her heart that could be revealed in a moment of intimacy, kind of like a stone being rolled away so that for a brief moment, Jesus was visible to the one who wasn't afraid to look. And Lionel wasn't afraid. He whispered back, completing their connection. "I'm right here," said he. "You mean a lot to me." He clicked the remote to hush the telly. She sighed with happiness and laid her palm to his. Together they admired the simple wonder of how big his fingers were in comparison to hers. They held their two hands up in the air, her right to his left, fingers outspread, watching the candle light glow in the spaces between. Sondra mellowed out. It seemed so simple and obvious now. She kissed him again, and lay back in his warm embrace. chapter two -- gardening a Sunday afternoon Sondra came in from outside, trying not to slam the door, even though she was of a strong mind to interrupt her Lionel. She could see him working at the kitchen table. The computer screen bathed his face in a bluish glow. She remembered a few things he had written on that very computer and a grin crossed her features. It would be a great deal of fun now to see if she could sneak up on him, low-crawling under the table maybe… But there was something she wanted. She wanted a raised-bed garden. Now technically, she could build one herself, but it would take her all day. With Lionel's help, the project would take only twenty minutes maybe. So she pulled up a chair beside him, rested her chin in her hands, and made the Sphinx face. At first, Lionel didn't look up, though her presence was a big light on his radar. He finished typing, "Oh, god, you're too big, you'll kill me with it…" and hit the save key. "What's up, querido?" he asked. Sondra tugged at his sleeve. "Will you help me build a raised-bed garden?" "Now?" "Oh, please." "Okay. But I reserve the right to extract payment." He followed her out to the yard. "What do you have in mind?" Eagerly she pointed at the pile of railroad ties. She waved her hands around, describing the frame and the way she wanted the corners to go. She had gotten him a nifty cordless power drill for xmas, mostly for him to play with, but also for just such an occasion as now. Lionel didn't mind. He enjoyed her schemes. Sometimes she was so enthusiastic, almost child-like, he had to smile. He got the Makita out of the garage. Working together, they lugged the first two beams into place, so that the end of one abutted the side of the end of the other. "Hold 'er steady." Sondra did as he directed, but in the most flirtatious way possible. She sat on the wooden letter I with her feet on either side, calling his attention to her crotch. Then she leaned forward to hold the other beam in place. He grinned at her. "Think you're cute, don't you." She grinned back and wrinkled her nose like Myrna Loy. "Naw, I think you think I'm cute." "Chah!" Lionel snorted softly, thinking, She reads me like a billboard on the freeway. He squeezed the grip. Zzzzz! went the drill. "Ooo baby, I love it when you drill me like that," she giggled. "Well that works out well—" Zzzzz! "—cause I like drillin' ya!" The two giggled and played as they built two frames. Each measured four feet square. Together they lifted one atop the other and eased the stack into alignment. "Are you done with me now?" asked Lionel. "Nope! Not quite. Now we have to mix the dirt." Sure enough, several big bags of peat moss, compost and topsoil lay waiting. Sondra studied the newly built bed. "Do you think the dirt will leak out between the two layers?" "I don't think so. These old railroad ties are pretty thick. I would say minimally, if at all." "Good," she nodded. "Here's what I want to do: mix up all these kinds of dirt so they are evenly distributed throughout the bed." She had already been wearing work gloves, to keep splinters out of her hands as she held the wood. Now her companion pulled on a pair, also, and they poured and swirled the dirt into place. It was fun to play in the dirt. Grown-ups so rarely chose this simple pleasure, and it was too bad. Sondra knelt beside Lionel and brushed up against him. Through the layers of dirt and glove, their hands met, moved, and touched again. The wind sang in the trees and the breeze pushed her ponytail over one shoulder. She would probably get a bit of a sunburn, having once again failed to apply sunblock, but she didn't care. Should her friend decide to kiss her, he would taste her sweat, and this was a lot more sexy than titanium dioxide or octyl salicylate. The bed was now about three-quarters full of dirt. Lionel asked, "How deep do you want it?" In her best seductive voice, she answered his question with a question. "How deep do you want to put it?" She batted her lashes and lifted her eyebrows. "I think maybe…" Lionel sat back and regarded her. He spread his hands wide and planted them directly on the front of her chest. "…this deep." "OH!" Sondra looked down at the two big dirty handprints that decorated the front of her white t-shirt. She looked back up to see Lionel smirking. He appeared to be pretty darn pleased with his handiwork. "Two can play at that game, mister!" Before he could back away, she took a palmful of dirt and smeared it on the crotch of his jeans. "Hey!!" At first he scooted backwards, trying to avoid her attack. But as she leaned forward, he quickly saw she was off balance, and grabbed her and pulled her toward him. He retaliated. The soft blue denim now sported a brown triangle. "Yup, if you'd let your hair grow, that's what it'd look like!" "I'll get you!" Sondra lunged for his chest but he held her by the shoulders. She could only swipe at his belly. Lionel laughed, easily holding her at arm's length. She twisted, breaking his grip. She grabbed his ass. "Ha!" He flipped her onto her back and pinned her. "I've got you now." He kissed her. She struggled at first but soon relented under the onslaught of his kisses. She grabbed him again, getting the back of his t-shirt dirty. She peeled off her work gloves and thrust her fingers into his hair. Lionel lifted his face for a moment. Their eyes met and communicated. Just as she was about to say something, he started in on her neck. All the smarty-pants quips evaporated from her mind. Her breath went hot and still in her throat. She panted little noises of delight until she felt him tug at the hem of her t-shirt. "Cut that out," she said, blushing, "let's go inside." "Shy, are we?" He was teasing, he wouldn't really have joined with her in full view of the neighbors. He helped her stand and they raced indoors. They slammed the front door behind them and started whipping off their clothes. Lionel threw his gloves into a corner even as Sondra yanked at his shirt. He took off her top. "I always knew you were a dirty girl." 'Hush up and take off your pants," she giggled. She parked her ass on the arm of the nearest easy chair to take off her tennis shoes. Lionel hopped out of his boots and shed his jeans. Sondra eyed his package with considerable interest. "Damn, baby." "Hmmmm…looks like you got dirt on your nose. Better take a shower." He took a step toward her. "You put it there, you ought to be a gentleman and wash it off." She was backing down the hallway, daring him and taunting him now. "Ohhhhh-kaaaayy…" he advanced, and made a playful grab in her direction. She squealed and ran, hearing his footsteps thudding close behind. He caught up with her quickly and pressed her against the bathroom wall. She flapped her hands against his chest but lifted her face to accept his kiss. Lionel kept one arm around her and found the spigot with the other. Her eyes flew open at the sound of the water. She sparkled at him and kissed him again before carefully stepping into the old clawfoot tub. He had installed a power head just a few weeks earlier and they had enjoyed this toy quite a bit already. But now she just wanted to touch him everywhere, and feel his hands all over her body as well. She tipped her head back, getting wet, and traded places with him so he could do the same. They each took a bar of soap. By some unspoken agreement, each began to soap the other's chest. "Oh, that feels so good," she moaned, "…baby, you're so good to me…" Sondra closed her eyes and luxuriated in the feel of Lionel's hands massaging her breasts. He drew his fingers in, making chef's kisses to her points, then moved his hands in a wax-on, wax-off motion. He scooped up her curves, letting the lather lubricate his movements. Her pretty globes slid through his hands. Sondra was swept by waves of pleasure. Her lover's unhurried caresses at once teased and satisfied her. She opened her eyes when she realized she was so distracted, her hands had stopped moving across his chest. With a giggle she resumed her tending of his body. Adventures of Lionel & Sondra "Thank you," she said softly. "My pleasure." He smiled down at her. Lather made a frilly lace over her bosom. Her nipples peeked out. "Now put your hands on my shoulders…" He did so and it was his turn to close his eyes in pleasure. She soaped up her hands and stroked his cock, hand over hand in a foamy massage. She soaped her own belly and rubbed up against him. She cuddled his balls from time to time and skidded the tip of one finger up his ass. He moaned. The sound was music to her ears. She fisted him a little faster. Through the white suds, the head of his cock was an angry red, almost purple. Lionel found two words: "Faster, Sondra…" She herself was breathless as she obeyed, jerking him with short, hard strokes. As his ivory fountain erupted, she took her hand away and stepped in close to hug him. Their hot, slippery bellies closed together around his cock in a messy mélange of suds and cum. "Oh,….oh…" he moaned. His knees threatened to buckle. "Baby," she murmured into his chest. She held him as much in sweet affection as she did in sexual pleasure. Her emotional peak mirrored his physical one. Lionel breathed heavily, hanging onto his pleasure goddess. He realized his grip was too tight on her biceps, yet she had not complained. Sondra pulled back a little. "Did you like that?" "I'm not really sure, we may have to test this again." chapter two and a half -- camping Sondra was dreaming. She was dreaming of a time, not so long ago, when she felt like Lionel had many girlfriends, and she wasn't so sure that she was special to him, even though he had told her she was. She just wasn't the type of girl to assume anything. As is common with dreams, this dream wove together some elements of reality, and some of fantasy. It was a long weekend, just before the heat of summer descended with a vengeance on their town. He invited her to go camping. At first, mired in uncertainty, she tried to maneuver out of it. "I haven't been feeling so hot lately," she told him. She thought maybe he would just ask someone else. But he surprised her. He told her tempting stories of all the activities they might enjoy. Not only did he entice her to go with him, he talked a lot about the non-sexual attractions of the trip. Sondra was intrigued. Here was a fellow who wanted her company. She agreed to join him. The first day they went canoeing. "Do you know how to paddle?" he asked. "I think so. You row on one side and I row on the other, right?" Yep, she had it right, and over the blue-green lake they sailed. He insisted that she wear sunblock and she was very glad of it later, for not only did the sun pour its gold all over them, but the glare reflected off of the lake as well. She would have cooked like a lobster, maybe even gotten sick, and that would have spoiled everything. The next day they rose early to visit the hiking trails. They took an easy one first, to stretch their leg muscles. Sondra was used to swimming every day, so her stamina was good, but the way the muscles were used was different. A warm-up was important. Through the tender wood they strolled, under the dark green canopy. Lionel took point, holding branches out of the way, and extending his hand where the footing was questionable. They were both careful to avoid smashing the wildflowers. Neither did they make too much noise, for part of the point was to not frighten away the wildlife. They rounded a bend. In front of them was a rare spot where a pillar of sunlight shone down through the roof of the forest. It highlighted a big flat rock, like a spotlight. Sunning itself on the rock was a thick snake. They eyed the snake with interest, trying to determine what kind it might be. They spoke very, very quietly so as not to disturb it. Sondra was not afraid until it began to uncoil its sinuous body, and then they tiptoed on. The remaining sights were less tense. There were wild strawberries, violets, trillium and bleeding heart. They picked out the slender leaves of the black walnut tree, even though it was too early for walnuts to be found. They crossed a rickety bridge over a stream. It was little more than a series of planks, strung together with a few ropes. But the stream was not deep. At worst, had they fallen in, they would have gone home with wet and muddy clothes. The water sang its flute-song to them. When they were hungry, they found an overhang, and pulled off their backpacks. It was a quiet lunch. They speculated about how the river had once cut through this place. Through it all, rippling through their emotions like an undertow, was awe at the beauty. Someone or something had made this place, and it wasn't mankind. This very fact was louder than its gentle sounds: the wind flying through the trees, the chittering of birds and insects. Lionel tugged at Sondra's sleeve. Silently he pointed. Not fifteen feet away stood a doe and her fawn. The doe regarded them as it chewed on long green stems. She stared at the humans for a moment, then took her little one back whence they came. Sondra's eyes glowed thanks to Lionel. Something moved in his eyes, too -- he was glad he had asked her along. The couple's time together went by quickly. It was as if being in the wood brought out another kind of communication, something deeper than everyday words could say. Sondra was sorry to see the back of it. That night after dinner, before the sun went down, Lionel asked Sondra, "What are you doing?" Her eyebrows flew up. "Zipping together two sleeping bags." He expression said, Is this a trick question? Lionel laughed. He wondered if he would ever get used to her quirky sense of humour. Nope, probably not. After the sun went down they lay looking up at the stars. Out here, away from the city, the sky was crystalline clear. The silver-white dots glittered majestically in the deep indigo field. He ran his hands over her body, not in a sexual way, but in a loving way. Sondra warmed happily to his touch. They picked out the constellations -- he knew more of them than she -- and one or two planets. He wasn't condescending as he shared his knowledge. She liked that about him. After a while her eyes began to flutter…it had been a big day. As Lionel pointed out Venus, her mind began to drift into nonsense. She pictured the two of them, lying on the big dirt ball called Earth, and the ball was orbiting around the sun, and the solar system was revolving around galactic central point … in a very real sense, the universe itself was rocking them in its cradle. They were safe. They were where they should be. She lost consciousness in her lover's arms. In the middle of the night, his hands caressing her breasts woke her up. "Mmmmm," she said sleepily. Even though it was pitch black, she could imagine the sight of his mouth. His lips were beautiful as a beautiful dream. She pressed her full soft lips to his. Her arms wrapped around him in the quiet noise of their t-shirts gliding and he pressed his mouth more firmly to hers. He slid his tongue past her lips. She arched her back at the jolt of electricity that raced to the tips of her breasts. Suddenly her heartbeat throbbed between her legs in a wet silken fire and his hands, roaming over her body, caused her to moan against his lips. He kissed her neck, where she was very sensitive, hearing her draw in a sharp breath. He nipped at her throat and tasted the salt of her skin. Her breasts fairly begged for his hands, longing for his caress, waiting for his fingertips to feel every round inch. He held the weights in his hands, then buried his face in her ample bosom. Her cries of joy encouraged him. "Suck my nipples…" Lionel had no idea how powerful was her ache, and when he met this need, the white-hot fire coursed through her. She wondered if he had any idea what he did to her. He drew her hips a little closer, reached inside her panties and found the creamy wet heat that he aroused in her. Sondra thought she could not resist him tonight if he were the devil himself. She was warm and alive in his arms. She reached to caress his hardness and a thrill of joy rocketed through her to find that she aroused him, also. "Oh, god, Lionel, I can't stand it any more…" He guided the head of his hot hard cock into her aching thirsty pussy, stabbed his steel into her pink petals. They began moving as one. He rolled their bodies together so that she landed on top of him. She felt his hips flex beneath her. Her vaginal muscles tensed in waves of pleasure as she looked into his eyes. She could see his adoration. He played with her abundant tits, feeling her get wetter. As she pitched and rolled above him, she whispered sweet words of passion, things she couldn't say in the daylight, things he had already guessed, and she knew that he knew. She held both of his hands, leaning forward and meeting his thrusts to grind his granite against her clit. As he brought her to orgasm, she lost all coherent thought. He moved her in so many ways, he penetrated her more deeply than any man ever had, and she wanted it all: his scent, his sound, his touch, his taste, filling her and sweeping her with him to his own country… She felt his cock swelling inside her. His balls tightened. "Cum inside me!" she urged, and he answered back, "I'm going to cum, I'm going to cum inside you," and his blast shook her, his explosion fired deep inside. "Oh god. Oh god. I am yours…" Body and soul, she confessed. She woke up. chapter three -- Lionel's birthday Summer sighed away into September, and Sondra pondered how best to celebrate Lionel's approaching birthday. Of course she intended to jump his bones, but she wanted the bone-jumping to be extra special, the kind of bone-jumping that would give a man happy memories on his deathbed, so that even as he slid toward the white-gold light, he would still be thinking, "Oh, god, Sondra, that was great," even as he remembered that perhaps under the circumstances he ought to consider using a capital G. Just in case. She got the idea from the radio as she was driving home from work. The following Tuesday, she barely touched her dinner. Lionel noticed she kept looking at the clock. "What's up? Got somewhere to go?" "Yeah, well." She smiled mysteriously. Here we go again, thought Lionel. Even though he knew it was pointless to ask, he asked anyway: "What are you up to?" "Oh, nothing. Listen, if you leave the dishes, I'll clean up later, OK?" She gave him a big smile, probably her best attempt at innocence, but in fact she came across like the cat that had defeated the clasp on the cage of white mice. Ha! said the look. I got it! Quick as a wink, she bussed him on the cheek and scurried out the door. Lionel smiled and rolled his eyes. Whatever it was, he would probably benefit. He turned on the radio and was in time to catch the bottom of the second inning. The Cubs were up 1-0. This was pleasant enough, but by no means an indicator of impending success. They were, after all, the Cubs. Just because he liked her so much, he scraped the dishes and piled them into the dishwasher. Then he settled down to read smutty stories, write smutty stories, think up ideas for more smutty stories, and help fellow authors edit their smutty stories. He could not help but think of Sondra, especially during certain lurid descriptions that reminisced her favorite toys and positions. She got home about ninety minutes later. She was fragrant and her cheeks were pink. "You're glowing," he observed. "Did you have a good time?" "Yeah." Her smile was very, very big. In fact she was beaming, as if she had just discovered something wonderful. She kissed him hello and strode down the hall. "Just gotta wash my feet." A little question mark formed over Lionel's head. He didn't bother to ask. The following Tuesdays were pretty much the same, excepting the Cubs whose performance was miserable, miserabler, miserablest, then all of a sudden they would come out of nowhere and whip the Sox, probably due to inbred genetic rivalry. Sondra routinely dashed out of the house by 6:45 and came home, just as predictably, at about 8:15. This went on for five weeks. One night as they were making love, Lionel noticed a change in Sondra's movements. There was something different about the way she rotated her ass. It was almost as if she were listening to music, and the music was transmitting through her muscles…it was very nice … He rolled with her, moving in counterpoint to her rhythm. Something about his old days of playing the guitar echoed faintly at the back of his mind. "Unh! … Unh! … Unh! … UNH!" "Where did you learn to do that," he panted. Sondra was breathing heavily beside him. "Sex class," she replied with a straight face. "What!?" She giggled. "I'm just teasing you, you silly goose." She caressed his jaw and kissed him. But she hid behind the banter of their word-play, and never did answer his question. * * * Finally the big day came. Lionel awoke to find flowers on the nightstand, with a mushy card propped up against the vase. He smiled as he read it. The smell of a tasty breakfast wafted under his nose. He felt so well taken care of. With a sigh of happiness, he pulled on a robe and padded out to the dining room. He had a sense of living a dream. "Happy birthday!" Sondra gave him a big tight hug and invited him to sit down. She brought him coffee in his favorite mug and dished up a platter of eggs, hash browns and ham. There was even freshly squeezed orange juice. His only disappointment was that she had clothes on under the gauzy apron. Lionel blinked at his plate. "Thank you. This is very nice." His girlfriend grinned back. "I'm glad you like it. I'm just sorry you have to work today," her glance turned rueful. He couldn't resist playing with her a little bit. "So what'd ya get me for my birthday?" "I'm not gonna tell ya. You have to wait until tonight to find out." Looking smug, Sondra fixed her own breakfast and joined him at the table. They chatted about ordinary things, then; the church, the weather; Lou Piniella getting kicked out of last night's game. Soon the phone began to ring and Lionel donned his hat. It was time for another day full of explaining things that were simple to him, but utterly mystifying to most of the rest of the population. Sondra waved him off, looking guiltier than ever, smiling the big goober grin that meant she had something up her sleeve, the kind of grin that would probably have gotten her kicked out of 26 casinos, all her womanly charms notwithstanding. Lionel nodded and waved as he drove away. He would certainly have to make an effort to keep his mind on his work, and if he even remotely considered the vaguest notion of what she was up to, he'd probably have to sit in the truck and concentrate intently on Michael Barrett's on-base percentage before he could go talk to anybody. Such was the effect she had on him, and with good reason. He was, on the whole, a fortunate man. The day seemed to take forfuckingever. Lionel fixed things with a good grace, pointing out to the ladies and gentlemen the virtue of checking batteries, knowing even still how they would forget this simple axiom of common sense, and he would soon again be called upon to rescue them from their own foibles. Oh, well. It paid the mortgage. Dinner time finally rolled around. Sondra cooked again. She fixed up a simple little appetizer, dried apricot halves stuffed with blue cheese crumbles. Lionel was surprised at how tasty the little buggers were and gobbled down half a dozen before he remembered he liked fig newtons better. Oh, wait. He hung around in the kitchen, watching her chop scallions in between checking the steaks. "Can I do anything?" "I think you can do lots of things, but for now if you want to, you can get that pinot grigio out of the fridge." Lionel fetched out the white wine, even as he objected. "This doesn't go with steak." "Wanna bet?" She had a naughty look in her eye. Lionel poured their drinks. He filled each stem to the widest point of the bubble and gave one glass to his woman. Her counter clockwise movement caused the wine to swim a few liquid laps, and she took a mouthful of the cold white. Then she kissed him and let the cool wine slip from her mouth into his. Her tongue rode in on the wave, imitated a swimmer's flip turn and slid out, barely giving him time to enjoy the tease. The sensuous kiss traveled through his body. The look on his face was her reward. She grabbed his ass and whispered, "Beef! It's what's for dinner." Lionel embraced her. He was tempted to drag her off to the bedroom and let the steaks burn, or maybe even lay her on the dining room table. But he knew she had something planned. He contented himself with roaming his hands over her body, copping a feel here, stealing a grope there. He whispered back, "Beef! It does a body good." She squeaked at the grope and giggled at the quip, and finished fixing dinner. The steak was great, dark hot pink on the inside and charred around the edges. They dug in, mindful of how lucky they were, not only because they could afford to eat well, but also because they had each other. Abiding friendship with a sexy playmate -- who could ask for more? As it happened, however, Lionel could ask for something more, and that something was the resolution to his burning curiosity. He had sensed the tension in her for weeks. "So," he tried to sound casual, "you never asked me what I wanted for my birthday." "That's right, I didn't." "Are you going to tell me?" "Wellllllll…" Sondra stroked her chin, pretending to consider. "No. But you can have these." She stood up from the table and opened a kitchen cabinet. Carefully she lifted out a little stack of presents. There was a big one, a small one, and a tiny little box on top. She put the gifts on the dining room table and told him to wait a minute while she cleared the dishes. That done, she sat back down and selected the middle-sized box. The wrapping paper had bats, gloves and balls on it. Lionel could tell by the feel of it that it was a paperback book. He tore it open. It was a copy of The Southpaw by Mark Harris. "Still trying to get me to read this, huh?" He chuckled. "I'm convinced you'll love it. It's a story about a pitcher who is also a writer." She looked really happy. "Thank you, I'm sure I will enjoy it." He leaned to kiss her softly, and smiled into her eyes. "Okay, now the big one." This one was covered in a satiny blue paper. Lionel pulled the silver ribbon and the bow on top came untied. He lifted off the lid. At first he wasn't sure what he was looking at. Whatever it was, it was made of denim -- many different hues of denim. He pulled the cloth from the package. It was a blanket of some kind, a single layer sewn in a pattern of interlocking circles. Each circle was about the size of a CD. On the back it looked like a series of squares that was held together with circular stitching. A shard of insight lanced into his mind. "This is where all my old blue jeans went." Sondra lifted her chin. A trace of pride showed on her face. "You made this …" Lionel stood up and unfolded the coverlet all the way. It was big enough to cover their bed. It would be the perfect light weight, for their climate, in the upcoming winter months. "You made this for me." He was moved. "Thank you." Sondra nodded. "You're welcome," she whispered. There were nearly tears in her voice. Lionel drew her close and wrapped both of them in her gift. He kissed her forehead and hugged her with all the warmth he could muster. "I'll treasure it always." Adventures of Lionel & Sondra In that way they stood for a moment, two friends sharing a special time. The long flow of denim trailed from Lionel's shoulders, as if he were a sultan, or a king. Sondra kept her arms around his waist, the side of her face pressed to his chest. She listened to his heart. Finally she broke away and smiled up at him. "You have one more gift," she announced. "Does this have to do with Tuesday nights?" "Mayyyyyyyy-be! Now here you go --" she handed him the teeny tiny little box. It was wrapped in black silk and tied with a gold velvet ribbon. "This one has special instructions, and you must follow them exactly in order for it to work." She walked him back over to his chair and turned him so he could see the clock. "You are required to wait a full ten minutes before you open the box." Then, with a satisfied nod, she kissed him and left the room. Lionel sat at the top of the rollercoaster, belted in and ready for the ride. He tried not to be impatient. He tried to enjoy the moment of suspense, as if he were watching a Hitchcock movie. Yet his ears strained to hear, to try and determine if Sondra was making any sound, any noise at all that would provide a clue. He could hear nothing. He tried picking up the book she had gotten him. He could not get past the first sentence, so distracted was he. Then he thought of turning on the computer, but that didn't seem right. The computer would only take his mind to another place, and he wanted to be here. He turned over the little box in his hands. It weighed practically nothing. The silk was sexy to the eye and to the touch. He ran it over his lips. The feather-light weave gave away no secrets. He sighed, willing the hands of the clock to move. He tapped his fingers on the table. The moments slid by with agonizing slowness. He knew this was what he had been anticipating all day -- even though he didn't know for sure yet what it was. At last the author had mercy and typed the last paragraph of his waiting. The fabric wrapping gave way beneath his eager fingers. Under the silk there gleamed a shiny gold box. It was the type of box that made a person think of the old saw about good things in small packages. He pulled off the lid. Lying on a snug little bed of cotton was a card. It read: "Proceed to the northeast bedroom and sit down in the chair facing the mirror. Leave the door open. You may touch yourself … but only yourself. No flash photography is permitted." Lionel remembered a certain other picture which had been taken in that room. As if he were walking through a forest, in a dream, he walked down the hall. His heart was beating in anticipation. He had an inkling, an idea, but no, it couldn't be. Sondra was shy, Sondra had always looked to him as the one who led the way through these types of adventures. Sondra was shy -- wasn't she? He opened the door and left it open. There were only two pieces of furniture in the room -- the bed and the chair. The chair faced the wall that was one big mirror. He sat in the front row, the only row, as directed. Thirteen winding notes in a minor key curled into the room. Instantly he recognized the eerie riff: Black Magic Woman as rendered by one of his all-time heroes: Mr. C. Santana. An arm, clad in a slit black sleeve, waved in through the doorway. The fluid motion of the arm undulated like a sine wave on an oscilloscope. Sondra flowed into the room as if her arm were leading her in a tango. Lionel sat transfixed as a mouse face to face with a clever, cage-opening cat. Some distant part of his mind trumpeted, I knew it!! But mostly he just sat there with his mouth hanging open. With the first soft knocks of percussion, Sondra tapped at her own heart, sending a signal from her jungle tribe to his. The little bit of skin below her clavicle was visible, but not much else…not exactly. She was pretty much draped in sheer veils. "Got a black magic woman Got a black magic woman I've got a black magic woman Got me so blind I can't see That she's a black magic woman She's trying to make a devil out of me" Gradually she moved into the room, as if the music were a rope that pulled her in. The black silk of her bellydancer's costume was the same as that which had covered the tiny box. Little bits of gold flashed as she danced. Gold coins twitched at her hips and fooled around near her breasts. Tiny gold bells hugged one ankle. Her hips circled around, outlining an infinity symbol that was as ancient as it was hypnotic. "Don't turn your back on me baby Don't turn your back on me baby Yes, don't turn your back on me baby Stop messing round with your tricks Don't turn your back on me, baby You just might pick up my magic sticks" Yet she did turn her back on him, wantonly denying the singer's order. Lionel thought he had known all about Sondra's ass, thought he was familiar with every delectable curve, and here she was, proving him wrong. The way she moved now would have delighted a sheik. The mirror let him see her forward as well as aft. Her hands curved the air around her breasts, drawing the letters of his name. In the mirror she met his eyes with a sultry gaze. It was as if she were saying to him, Go ahead. Pick up your magic stick, baby. Dance for me, as I dance for you. Her eyes were swept with kohl, like Sophia Loren, or Cleopatra. Lionel was already throbbing. He unzipped his jeans and picked up his magic stick. Sondra swayed and bumped, letting the guitar tell her body what to do. At the end of the first guitar solo she went full stop, splayed like a standing starfish, but only for a brief moment. Then the music pulled her again. The music was her dance partner, persistent, insistent, unwilling to release her until the dance was through. She lifted her arms high overhead, then moved them one at a time, as if she were picking apples from branches just out of reach. Then she offered the fruit to him, Eve to his Adam. Finally her hands fell, tumbling over and over, like blossoms falling under the pressure of rain. She looked at her Lionel, shamelessly staring at his cock. She licked her lips as she watched him handle his length. He met her eyes just as boldly. She began to touch herself directly, no longer making little aerial patterns, but clearly rubbing her breasts. Her nipples stood proudly through the sheer black fabric. The lustful guitar notes worked her hips as if she were fucking him. Lionel thought he would go mad if she didn't show some skin soon. As if she read his mind, the third and final verse began to reveal itself, and along with it, so did she. "Got your spell on me baby Got your spell on me baby Yes, you got your spell on me baby Turning my heart into stone I need you so bad, magic woman I can't leave you alone" At the first two lines, Sondra pulled away the panels of silk that draped over her ass. There was a ripping sound as first one, then the other, gave way. Her back was to the mirror. Lionel's eyes widened as her peach came into view. The scarves that looked like sleeves went next. She let one fall under her feet and threw the other in his direction. He lunged to catch it and nearly touched her but she backed out of range. The music was thrashing like lovers in the homestretch. Sondra had no choice but to follow. The bra top flashed in jeweled gold and black. It barely held her breasts in place. She bent her body like a c-clamp and her bosoms spilled out. With a sudden jerk, she came upright again, simultaneously pulling the two front panels from her hips. The remaining miniscule g-string barely covered her mound. It was then that Lionel broke the rules. He grabbed her and threw her forcefully on the bed. He tore off the shiny demi-bra and the little nothing of a g-string. With a growl he took the nearest nipple into his mouth, grazing the sensitive skin with his teeth. Sondra cried out. She was soaking wet. She grabbed his sword and guided it to her sheath. Lionel stabbed into the haven she gave him with a groan. He hadn't even made it out of his jeans. He fucked her with lustful abandon, entirely freeing his animal urges. He had to have her. He had to. Most of the noises he made could not be construed as English, but a few of his syllables matched hers, mostly the ones devoted to taking the Lord's name in vain. He spluttered her name, even as she screamed his. With a final dramatic push, Sondra arched her body. At the same time she pressed down with the soles of her feet. Her weight pointed through her shoulder blades as her pelvis thrust sharply upward, taking her partner with her. Her orgasm squeezed his cock. Lionel clapped his hands to her ass cheeks in an answering squeeze. He shouted and filled her with a splashing crescendo. Smash! Smash! Smash! Like an ad for Zildjian, his body crashed into hers, thundering over the cymbals and toms. Gradually the bumping descended to just the bass drum of his heart. He lay on her chest for a while, listening to her heartbeat slow with his. She cradled him, caring for him and tending him. Finally he rolled to one side. "Oh, god, Sondra, that was great." Yes!!! shouted her spirit. Then: "Thank you," he kissed her, "this is the nicest birthday I've ever had." "You're welcome." Her smile reflected all the emotions that added up to joy: the sense of accomplishment…pleasing her lover…sexual bliss…and the warm, relaxed feeling of trust. Another thought trickled into Lionel's consciousness. "You probably had some kind of ending in mind for your dance." She grinned at him and chuckled. "This was it."