moving day

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic

these are stories i have written combining experience and fantasy...foe enjoyment only.

She had always enjoyed moving.  This time it was exhaustive, but she was fortunate to have had 5 people and a big truck to accomplish it.  After everyone left her with a new house full of boxes, she looked around a little and sighed.  Her friend John had started a welcome fire in the fireplace before he left.  She pulled a box open marked “pillows, big” and scattered 6 four-foot pillows and a throw on the floor in front of the fire. 

She walked to the kitchen and saw more of John’s thoughtfulness- a new bottle of her favorite bourbon, a large coke zero and a glass of ice.  Ah, joy.  Walking back to the fire, sipping as she went, she pulled off her jeans and lay down in her t shirt, bra and panties.  She was just too tired to care.  The bed didn’t have sheets on it yet, her clothes weren’t unpacked…what a mess.  Her laptop was perched on the ledge in front of the fireplace and she called up a playlist of her favorite music.  Laying down and snuggling under the throw she was asleep in no time.

Some time later the door to the kitchen from the backyard opened quietly.  A man stepped in and closed it quietly.  He stepped out of his shoes and left his jacket on a kitchen chair.  He was tall and dark, slender without being skinny.  His brown eyes were framed by perfect, dark lashes.  He had an easy smile that transformed a somewhat plain face into a very handsome one.

He didn’t need to turn on any lights.  The fire and the glow off the computer screen made it easy to see.  She was sleeping on the floor in front of the fire.  Perfect.  He unbuttoned his jeans and pulled off his shirt before he fell on her.  He ravished her from the lips down, and suddenly plunged into her.  Her eyes were wide open by now, and when he said lay still she did.  But it was hard because her body was responding to him as if he had brought pleasure to her so often it was like breathing. You have to breathe.

Finally, she had to call out and she let her body coax him on to his release.  Suddenly she surprised him by rolling out from under him and taking a dozen running steps.  He stood up warily.  She was smiling, laughing a little.  “I don’t know who you are, but I’ll tell you who I am.  I’m the Gingerbread Man!”  And she whirled around and started up the stairs.

He followed her swiftly and made the bedroom just a step or two behind her.  Her head was reeling, and she kept emitting little breathless laughs.  He stopped short and from behind she pushed him.  He fell onto the bed and in a flash she was on top of him.  She impaled herself on him and brought his hands to her breasts (she had pulled off her t shirt).  She was in a frenzy and he brought his hands down to her hips to slow her a little and guide her.  She came fast, twice.  She wouldn’t stop though and finally he managed to roll them both over without breaking their rhythm.  Back on top of her he used his tongue and teeth on every inch of her he could reach.  He used her roughly and she responded with another, longer climax.  It was his turn again and he spilled into her with a groan.  He grabbed her wrists and held her tightly.He didn’t want to chase her again. 

She looked up at him and said, “Who knew you’d like gingerbread so much.  Who are you?”  He shook his head and said, “Just a guy with a sweet tooth.”  “But I like it, tell me who you are!” “You like it? he said.  “I haven’t even started.”  She looked him in the eye and said, “Then you better start."  Spo he did.


Submitted: April 14, 2021

© Copyright 2021 thatgirl63. All rights reserved.

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