One Fine Day. Janice Sims

      Jason opened his robe, untied the belt, and let it fall to the floor. “Done!”

      His thick-lashed eyes swept over her body, daring her to match his boldness.

      Sara sucked in air, released it and stood looking at him with her mouth open. She wasn’t about to get naked with all the living room blinds wide open.

      She bent and picked up the robe. Handing it to him, she said, “I’d rather not give the Ledouxs an eyefull in case they’re looking up the hill tonight.” She turned and hurried to his bedroom where the curtains could be drawn and no one would be the wiser to anything that went on behind its walls.

      Jason put the robe back on and followed.

      Sara removed her shoes and began peeling off her clothes immediately upon entering his bedroom. She unbuttoned the shirt and Jason took over, pushing it off her smooth shoulders and pausing to kiss the side of her fragrant neck. She was wearing a scent that left her skin smelling faintly of a flower with a light head to it. Jason wrinkled his nose. He couldn’t quite place it, and he was thinking that he should be able to. He had a talent for wine and could discern the many underlying fragrances and tastes in a certain variety of wine. But this he couldn’t identify, possibly because it was combined with her own unique fragrance. It was confounding him.

      “What’s that scent you’re wearing?” he asked. “It’s very sexy.”

      “It’s something I bought at a fragrance shop in Santa Rosa. They’ll mix anything you want. It’s mainly gardenias with a few spices that I won’t name.”

      Jason smiled as he licked her earlobe. “I’ll have to taste you, then, to find out what they are.”

      The shirt was then hastily dispensed with and he turned his attention to the buttons on her jeans. The robe stood open all the while he was undressing her, and Sara enjoyed the view. A runner, Jason had a lean, muscular body, powerful leg and thigh muscles and wonderfully delineated calves. At six-one, he was four inches taller than Sara which was a near-perfect fit as far as she was concerned. She didn’t have to tiptoe too much to reach all the good parts and he was tall enough and powerful enough to make her feel protected, which she occasionally liked to feel. As a tall woman there weren’t that many men capable of making her feel that way.

      Jason pulled the jeans down past her hips, gravity did the rest, and Sara stepped out of them. She stood before him now in just her panties and bra.

      She pushed the robe off his shoulders and it fell to the floor.

      Jason pulled her into his arms. He left her bra and panties on just to test how long he would be able to resist ripping them off her.

      Sara’s hands were splayed on his back. Her body seemed to relax with the satisfaction of finally being this close to him. He also smelled delicious. It was just the soap he’d used in the shower, a spicy masculine scent that was probably used by millions of men, but she wasn’t in love with those men and no one could convince her that love didn’t do something to your olfactory senses. At the very least the sense of smell worked in conjunction with every other sense that lent itself to sexual arousal. Jason’s scent alone could awaken her sensory perception.

      She sighed and threw her head back, offering him her neck. Jason rained kisses along the curve of her throat, then lower to her cleavage. All the while, his penis was thickening and lengthening until it pressed urgently against her crotch.

      He moaned deep in his throat as pure pleasure began to course through him. Sara straightened and reached down, grasped his engorged penis and placed it between her thighs where she could feel it throbbing against her clitoris.

      Jason reveled in the feel of her warm, moist sex. Their eyes met and held as he bent to kiss her mouth. As the kiss deepened, he thrust between her thighs. His penis grew harder and Sara’s movements became more urgent as the climax building inside of her gained momentum.

      She didn’t want to climax in her panties, though, so she pushed him backward onto the bed. Jason smiled lazily as he lay on his back, his penis pointing straight in the air. He watched as Sara did a little striptease and a minute later her bra and panties lay on the floor next to the rest of her clothes.

      “I take it you still keep the condoms in the top drawer?”

      “Of course. Right next to that tape I made of us.”

      “Don’t be funny. You’re never going to get me on tape, buddy, so quit hoping.”

      She got a condom, opened it and straddled him. “So, you’d just as well be happy with the memories.” She rolled the condom onto his penis, and positioned it at the opening of her vagina. Jason pushed slightly, but she was tight, which he loved, and they both took their time as they gazed into each other’s eyes.

      He reached up and simultaneously rolled her nipples between the forefinger and thumb of each of his hands. He loved the deep golden brown richness of her skin. In summer it took on an even darker golden tone underneath the medium brown hue. With her black glistening braids she looked like an African goddess born of the sun.

      He yelled. While he’d been waxing poetic, his goddess had accepted him fully inside of her body and was riding him with abandon. Her nipples were distended, her eyes were closed in ecstasy and her thrusts were strong, rhythmic and relentless.

      It took a minute for it to register in his fevered brain that he was no longer in control here. As if he’d ever been. Her vaginal muscles squeezed him and released him, bestowing on him such a riot of sensual gratification that all he could do was smile and roll with it.

      Between intermittent kisses to his mouth, his chest, his chin, she took her fill of him and didn’t seem to be anywhere near being done with him. It was as if she was making up for the three weeks they had been apart.

      Surprisingly, though, her movements were not frantic, as if release were her only goal. No, she moved slowly and luxuriously, as if she were relishing every thrust of his body inside of hers, as if nothing had ever been more fulfilling.