From: yourmagic@aol.com (YourMagic) Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories Subject: Domestic Bliss (m/f,vegetable soup,black beans,TICKLING AND SEX!) Date: 18 Jan 1996 04:19:45 -0500 Domestic Bliss by YourMagic@aol.com Chop. Chop. Slice. Dice. She worked quickly, efficiently converting zucchini, carrots, potatoes, mushrooms, tomatoes, tucking her long dark hair behind her ears when it fell forward and distracted her. When she finished, some were bite-sized, some were chunks. Nice medley. No uniformity. She already a white onion simmering in the salted water. She liked the way it unfolded as it cooked and the way each pedal tasted sweet in her mouth. She plopped the veggies into the soup to join the onion, a handful of rice and a dozen peeled garlic cloves, then turned up the flame so it would come to a boil. She checked the black beans while she was there. Nice. Getting soupy. Another white onion unfolding in the pot. Almost time to add the epazote. Later she would scoop out a few spoonsful, mash them into the small pan where she'd sauteed a little onion, and cook them into a paste before returning them to thicken the whole beans. She smiled, remembering the time in Palenque when her Spanish was even worse than it was now. She had asked for "frijoles individuales" because she didn't want the routine refried ones. The waitress had shaken her head, then laughed. But she knew what she wanted. When she returned, she announced the beans as if she were at a 5-star joint. "Frijoles de la olla, senora." A real Mexican meal was not complete, as far as she was concerned, without a few whole black beans. With epazote. Turning the flame under the soup down again, she turned back to the countertop, hands on slender hips. What had she forgotten? Oh, the salad. Might as well make it now. We'd be eating in about thirty minutes, she thought. Easy one, this time. Yuppy lettuce with a few thinly sliced tomatoes and curled carrot rounds mixed in. Pretty. Simple. Good way to start the meal. She squeezed a lemon half over each, moved the salad plates into the fridge, then headed out of the kitchen. "Honey? (Donde estas, caramelito?" She heard his, "Up here" as she was already moved toward the stairs. Asking was just a formality. She could sense him, always. Knew where he was, what he was doing, what he was thinking and feeling, most of the time. They'd been married for a long time and knew each other very well. "Working? Or playing?" She stood at the door of his office, waiting for an invite. He never denied her access but she respected him enough to wait to be asked in. "Oh... playing... " She knew, then, that he was on the Net. She giggled, remembering how they had met so long ago when AOL was king and not just a fond memory. Their online attraction had been immediate, sensual, heart-linked from the beginning. Interesting how soulmates always managed to find one another, even in a sterile environment such as that. "Having fun?" "Yup." He typed in another line. "Anyone interesting?" She leaned against the door, admiring his wide shoulders, strong bare back, small firm butt. "Not really. Don't seem to be able to find anyone as fun as you. Yet." "Still looking, huh?" She giggled again. "You gonna ask me in, or what?" She was tired of waiting for his invitation. "No." A short burst of typing. "No?" She raised her eyebrows. "I'm telling her 'no', not you. I know better." "I'm comin' in, soldier. Ready or not." For some reason, she was being pushy with him now. Since she had known him, she'd never been threatened by another woman, online or otherwise. He made her feel too loved for that. But now she wanted to boss him around, be tough with him. And she only had twenty-five minutes before she had to put the meal on the table. She giggled again. Must be the veggie influence that made her this way. "Okay, bubba. That's it. You're busted. Close it up." "No." "Her? Or me?" "You. I'm having fun here." "I'll show you fun." She crossed the room in three strides, put her hand on one shoulder and whirled him around. Swivel chairs were great for that. In one swift click of the mouse, he was off- line. "Hey!" "For horses, no?" She sat on the floor in front of him and started pulling off his socks. "Hey!" "Still for horses. Be still or I'll tie you to the chair." She had moved quickly and was now grasping his left heel with her left hand. Slowly, she ran her right forefingernail along his sole, heel to toe bed. He laughed out loud and tried to jerk his foot back. She held it tighter then traced his arch and explored the rest of his foot. He was giggling for the most part but when she hit one of his tickle buttons, he erupted again in laughter. She loved the sound of his laughter. It was rich, deep, full-bodied. Like a fine wine. His big toe made its way to her warm mouth with a little gentle insistence from her. Again his sounds were music, very familiar music, to her ears. The giggling had subsided and was replaced with a low moan, almost a growl. She racked her fingernail along the sole again just so she could hear another giggle. She did. It was hard to tell who was enjoying this more. His other foot, free for the moment, was dancing around trying to release some of the tension, moving as if his body was on fire. She brought the two feet together now and grasped both big toes in her left hand. Knees up, feet on top of them. Ready for action. He hadn't seen this move for awhile. She played the eyelevel soles, tickling them wildly, passionately. He was in pre-orgasmic bliss. His laughter echoed off the walls. "Want to get back online, dear?" She expected no response from him. He was too busy trying to control himself. And failing miserably, she added to herself. She smiled. She could see his hard on through his running shorts. It appeared to be bobbing slightly as if it were a willow in a slight breeze. No willow there, however. Thick, meaty, looooong cock hiding under those shorts. Time to check it out. She lowered her legs and lifted his feet onto the floor. In one fluid movement, she came onto her knees and ran her hands up his bare caramel thighs, opening them. The hair tickled her palms. When she got to the waistband, he lifted his hips. "Did I tell you to lift your hips?" He sat back down, startled. "Okay. Lift your hips. NOW." He looked a little alarmed but did it anyway. Usually he was the aggressor. Today, it was her turn. She apparently had forgotten to tell him that. Better put it on the chalk board in the kitchen next time, she giggled to herself. She slid the white running shorts over his narrow hips and let them hang on one ankle before turning her attention to his cock. It was magnificent. She had been in its power since the first time they had made love. Long with a slight curve in it like a detour. The road to bliss. Without further ado, she lowered her mouth on it and began to suck the knob, searching with her tongue. Her hands lifted his balls slightly and tickled under them. He gasped slightly, then giggled. There was something about a man's giggle that was beyond description. Women giggled all the time. Men? Rarely. You had to tickle it out of them, it seemed. It was such a release, a surrender. She had learned much from her experiences online. She was grateful that she had such a wonderful man with whom to share them in real time. Her mouth slid slowly down the shaft. There was more cock than mouth, so she opened her throat so she could take him all in. He was very close already, she sensed. She wanted to prolong it. She could feel her own wetness, had for some time now. And her clit was throbbing like a mad dog barking. She reached up with both hands and dug her fingers into both sides of his ribs. He jerked, laughed and almost came in her mouth then. She giggled. Wrong move. Better ask him to do the nines. "What's nine times three hundred and forty-six?" "Four." He seemed so sure. She giggled. Maybe in his universe, it was so. In hers, it was cause for more teasing. She moved her fingers to his nipples and flicked them gently with her nails. He moaned. She pinched them. He moaned. She slid one finger inside her waistband and moistened it with her wetness. God, she was wet. Slippery. Like glycerine. And that clit was gigantic now. She brushed her finger by it as she brought her finger out and up onto his nipple. Their moans were simultaneous. She glided her finger over one nipple, then the other, increasing their hardness. It was all over but the shouting, now. I give him about thirty more seconds and then it's show time at the Apollo, she thought. What can I do next to ward off this onslaught? Feet? Nah. Ribs? Worse. I know. I'll sit on him. Won't prolong it but sure would feel good inside me. She pulled her mouth off his cock like a vacuum sucking up a dustball and stood up, shedding her jeans and panties in a New York second. Bare-assed but teed. "Take off your t-shirt." His voice was hoarse with passion. "No." "Please? I want to suck on your nipples." "Well, since you put it so politely, sure." She grinned at him, then whipped off the shirt and straddled him, guiding his cock inside her then putting her hands on his muscled lats. He filled her up. More than. She felt like the dike. He was the little Dutch boy plugging her up. He started to lift his hips. "No. Don't. Let's enjoy the moment." "That's what I'm trying to do." "Let's enjoy it my way. No moving." His intense black eyes bore into her lighter ones. He wasn't liking this. And yet he was. He loved it when she dominated him, even as slight as this was. "Fine. I'll just work on these, then." He lifted one of her breasts to his mouth, kissed the sides, then surrounded her large areole with his full lips. She moaned, lifted her hips and then settled back down on his cock. His moan was muffled as he gently sucked on the nipple. She was very close, too. All that foreplay was as much of a turn-on to her as it was to him. "Tickle me." It was a command, not a request. "No. Busy." She loved it when he talked with his mouth full. So impolite. So unlike this well-mannered man who dressed in power suits and conducted business like a jaguar. "TICKLE ME NOW OR YOU'LL PAY LATER." She need a tickle. Really, really badly. She moved up and down on him again. For emphasis. "No." Another muffled moan from him. "I won't feed you dinner." She couldn't think of anything else to bargain with. She giggled. His long fingers dug into her ribs, then, and played up and down her rib cage. Her laughter was explosive. Her immediate orgasm was rich, deep, long. Two seconds into hers, he released her nipple and moved his mouth to her neck, nuzzling it as they rode the horse of ecstasy together. Dinner was side by side at the table, legs touching, her foot on his.