Driving back through the snow, I cursed Mike for ruining the evening. It should have been him that was dragged out at a quarter to nine, to deal with the downed server. I on the other hand, might have been making sophisticated if slightly slurred conversation over the coffee, instead of peering through the frozen windshield at a red stoplight, shaking in the storm. Not that they'd miss me - Simone's wrapped attention to Sarah's conversation, had me wondering. She did have that special something though, Sarah - the kind of poise that didn't just come, 'off the shelf'. I suppose it was the aura of knowing you'll be the most intriguing person in any room you're ever likely to walk into. That's my guess, but maybe I shouldn't try to analyse her too much, I'm no psychologist, servers are my thing - IT, but she certainly turned heads, and it wasn't just the guys who looked.
The lights changed and I pulled forward - driving on auto-pilot, dreaming my way down blanketed streets, oblivious to the headlights and the frozen city blocks, as I recalled events of the interrupted evening.
'Drew?' she'd said as I took her coat and she leaned in to kiss the air beside my cheek. I sensed the perfume, and brushed her dark hair with my lips.
'Sarah. Glad you made it.'
'This snow is in for the night,' she said, sliding away to throw her arms around Simone, and reaching up a little to make up the difference in their height. Simone's mass of chestnut hair, swung against her face and shone under the lights of the Christmas tree in the hall.
'Sarah - you're frozen, come in and warm yourself,' she said, taking her hand and leading her smiling into the den. 'Have you met Drew? We're old friends from college days'.
''Yes - I thinks so,' Sarah said. She had, but I'd clearly made less of an impression on her than she had with me.
I followed them into the den, watching the interactions. There was something electric between them - something I envied, and it carried on throughout the meal, as Simone took us through the courses. The perfect hostess, disguising the awkward fact that I was in the way, though it only dawned gradually, as they started on the second bottle, and as the moments of eye-contact lengthened between them. Maybe it was just that.
I was on call and sober, filling in at the last minute for dork, Mike Atkinson who'd broken his arm during a Sunday afternoon romp in the park with his kid. Watching Simone roll the Merlot around her mouth, I considered for a moment, that falling on the ice was too good for him, maybe, skiing over a cliff would have been more fitting. I imagined the vanilla flavours of good red wine, aged in oak casks, and sipped instead at an insipid soft drink.
That was the moment when the pager vibrated in my pocket. A phone call later, I was making apologies, and heading for a locked up web server. Thousands of dollars an hour of lost business would be pouring through the servers of my employer's competitors as the Christmas buying spree was jerked to an untimely halt by an exception error. Fuck Microsoft. Fuck Bill Gates. Fuck the world. All I wanted was to roll the smooth red wine around my mouth and laugh like them.
'I'll be right back,' I said. 'It's nothing.'
Simone reached up and unhooked a key from the rack by the door. 'Let yourself in when you get back. We're going to open another bottle and I can't promise that we'll be fit to let you in if you're away for long.'
'Great,' I said. 'As long as some of us are having fun.'
Ahead of me, a pickup slithered to a halt, its rear end slewing around as a suicidal drunk stepped into the road, daring the fat guy in the checked jacket to run him over. Steam rose from the pickup's tail pipe as a stream of abuse issued from the open window. I laughed.
It was good to see someone else wasn't having a ball tonight. Fuck Mike Atkinson - the prick. Then, I was outside of Simone's place, the porch lantern swinging in the bitter wind. Snow creaked under foot and I felt in my pocket for the key, then I was in warmth and stamping snow off my shoes onto the mat. Maybe I should shout? But what? An inane, hello? Hi - I'm back? Or nothing?
I chose the latter and made my way past the blinking light of the Christmas fir tree, down the hall towards the den and stopped short, mouth suddenly dry as the truth dawned. I should leave.
Hesitant, reluctant almost, I turned peering around the door. They were on the couch, Sarah's blouse was open. Simone hungrily kissing her, rolling taught nipples between her finger and thumb. The pulse quickened in my temple as I watched their passion - a peeping tom.
Simone pushed her down and moved astride her,dominating, as Sarah groaned, pulling at her lover's skirt, sliding it up, revealing creamy thigh, then black silk underwear, her hand seeking the moist warmth of Simone's need. I suppressed a groan, as she stood suddenly, unhitched her skirt and Sarah now on her knees, slid down the dark silk nickers and pushed her onto the arm of the couch.
'Sit on the edge,' she said, guiding her. 'No, further forward. Yes. Perfect.'
Simone straddled the arm, slid her buttocks forward, leaned back, taking weight on outstretched arms and threw back her head, her magnificent hair tumbling. Sarah smiled and buried her impish face between her legs, sucking and licking at her.
'Oh my God,' Simone gasped, moving one hand to the back of Sarah's head and stroking her hair, or was she pushing her harder into the heart of her pleasure? Her breath came in pants as Sarah worked. I moved, sliding to my right for a better view, feeling like my prick would burst through my pants at any moment. She was in ecstasy, moaning and panting.
'Oh my God, no, don't stop, Oooh God - yes,' she gasped, squirming, her fist now knotted in Sarah's dark hair. Small immaculately manicured fingers worked at Simone as she came, shuddering violently over and over again. Then as she finished, Sarah stood, slipping out of the long skirt. Simone, slid the pink underwear down, and stroked her fingers along the pure ivory of Sarah's inner thigh.
They stared into each other's eyes, then kissed. Sarah smiled, lay down on the rug, and Simone moved over her again, sliding her slender fingers into her gorgeous sex. Sarah moaned and from Simone's movements I realised she was working her thumb around engorged labia. I imagined the feel of it, wet and gloriously sensitive, I'd have hesitated over the hooded the centre of her pleasure, and from Sarah's squirming, I guessed that Simone knew better than any man, how to take her there and hold her, poised somewhere between heaven and earth.
She stooped, chestnut hair cascading over Sarah's nakedness, now kissing and licking at her, teasing, then pressuring. Her head moved rhythmically.
My heart was pounding as I walked in, unbuttoning my shirt and throwing it aside. Sarah's eyes opened wide as I unhitched my pants and stepped out of them, my prick standing hard at forty five degrees. Sarah smiled, shut her eyes as a wave of pleasure rushed through her, then pointed at Simone's glorious buttocks raised in front of me.
'Simone,' she gasped, imagine if Drew was fucking you right now - would you like that?'
She moaned for answer, and I knelt on the floor behind her, caressing her gorgeous buttocks, and sliding fingers over her glistening pussy. Her hips began rotating and she opened for me. I slid inside, feeling her swallow everything I had, moving, slowly at first, then faster. Short, teasing movements, then long ones, all the while, stroking the small of her back with one hand and rubbing and squeezing her taught clitoris with the other. I emptied into her, watching the look of rapture on Sarah's face as Simone, sucked and licked at her in a frenzy.
Afterwards, I lay spent on the carpet, by the fire, listening to their laughter as they showered. They didn't need me, and never had. I was finished, but for them, the night was young. I dressed, looking at their clothes strewn around the floor and laughed, barely able to convince myself of what had happened. It had been a privilege, but it was over. I let myself out into the cold. The snow had stopped and hard blue stars sparkled, like gems in the blackness. I reached the car and stood a moment looking at the house. Maybe tomorrow, I'd drop a bottle of something seasonal in at Mike's house. He'd never know the debt I owed him, and another thing, being on call, would never be the same again. I'd see it as an opportunity - you just never do know how things will pan out, now do you?
Thanks for this work of erotic art Fred!! It was the perfect bedtime story!
PH
