Thursday, June 23, 2011

Don't Ask

"Mmm...ok what now?" Michelle asked as she slid her fingers through the wax on Luke's back. He folded his arms underneath his chin and watched the red glow of the candle grow dimmer and then fade out with a smooth stream of silver smoke. The blue comforter they had laid on the living room floor for the occasion was covered in splotches of wax that soon dried into a white stain. Michelle grabbed some of her long red hair and started running it up and down his spine, then laid down on top of him. He smelled like cinnomon and pine and she liked the the way the oily wax felt between their naked skin.
"Well, I dunno about you, but I think I'm gonna make me some toast with jam."
"What? Really?"
"Yeah," they both sat up and Luke stepped into the kitchen, about five feet away in their small apartment, and turned the light on, "I feel like some toast with jam. We've got all night and we've had all day, I want a snack."
He grabbed a piece of wheat bread and stuck it in the toaster oven, then started rubbing his greasy arms. He was a pre-op transman, but still felt completely comfortable being naked in front of Michelle, and it showed in the way he moved. He did everything in the same soft, yet firm way, clothed or un-clothed. Michelle leaned back and watched every line and curve.
"All night? You mean it? really?" she replied in a childish voice, then smirked at him.
"Oh, like I've never gone all night before. Yes of course, that's the whole point of this. And by dawn," he began searching through the fridge for the jam, "you and I are gonna be rightfully fucked. I mean rightfully fucked"
"Well aren't you a romantic bastard."
"You know it. Anyway," he grabbed the strawberry jam and closed the fridge, "what I mean by rightfully fucked, I mean. . .like neither of us are doing shit tomorrow. Just ain't gonna happen. Everything from the waist down is gonna be shot to hell for at least a day after we're done with eachother. If the sun comes up and I'm not torn to pieces, I'm gonna consider this night a failure." He opened the jar and got the toast out of the toaster oven. While he was spreading the jam Michelle laid herself across the comforter and stuck her legs straight up, stretched, and then started slowly kicking her tiny feet through the air.
"Is that so? What if one of us wants to sleep?"
"I made coffee, remember?" Luke answered and took a bite of toast, "what time is it, midnight? I'm not tired. You don't look you don't seem tired at all me, we ain't sleepin' tonight." He sauntered over and sat next to her, his back to the suede couch, and watched her toned legs go up and down.
"So what all are we going to do on this big night you apprently spent a whole five minutes planning?" she asked. She'd been with him long enough to know he liked being teased a little.
"Well could always shower me in hot wax again. That was pretty fuckin' awesome."
"Okay then, but what are you going to do with all this?" Michelle sat up with her shoulders back and looked Luke in the eyes, then casually ran her fingers down her dainty breasts and full hips.
"Whatever all that can handle my dear. You know I'll do anything just as long as you uh..." Michelle sat down between his legs and placed her feet on the edge of the couch behind his head
"You always want me to do ass-stuff. I don't understand why. I think you're secretly gay." Luke finished his last bite.
"Just because I like having my ass smacked every once in a while?"
"Just smacked and just every once in a while?"
"Ok fair enough then. You want me to prove that I'm not gay right now? Because i would, but I just ate a piece of toast and. . ."
"Oh, shut up!"

I'm gonna stop there for now....

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