Sky Blue Sheets

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It had to be destiny that brought us together those weeks following the opening of the upscale natural foods grocery store in our town. Why else would we both have shopped the same three evenings after work each week walking past each other filling those plastic baskets with fresh food. We progressed from casual hellos to small chats while waiting at the meat or fish counters. It was obvious to each that we were both buying for one and by the end of the first week we confirmed to the other that we were living alone, her with her cat and me without even my dog that had finally given up the ghost that summer.

At the end of our second such week I suggested that we pool our resources and make a meal together. When? asked she. I said I am hungry now. Your place or mine she asked with a wry smile. Whatever makes you comfortable I replied and offered that mine was less than a mile away. Would there be sex involved she asked, teasing already. None expected, I replied, but will remain ever open to possibilities. Yours then, she conceded joking that her maid has been on vacation.

We grilled wild Atlantic salmon for which we prepared a bed of wild rice plus asparagus and salad. In the process we talked and laughed, revealing ourselves to each other with unguarded enthusiasm that was giddily refreshing. We didn't kiss, perhaps because I admitted even before the spring greens were washed that I wanted very badly to kiss her. Why don't you then, she asked. Because dinner would surely burn, I defended. She laughed in agreement. But eventually we touched as we worked together, she lightly placing a hand on my forearm when she laughed at something I said, me placing my hand on the small of her back when I passed behind her in the small apartment kitchen. As dinner cooked our passion simmered. Once, I ran a single finger across the back of her butt. A short while later she dragged one lightly up the seam of my jeans along the crack of my ass. We boiled over into our first kiss and almost ruined dinner by giving in so completely as to practically devour each other in the midst of so many wonderful foods reaching perfect heat.

We dined and returned to amiable banter, rinsing the meal down with minted spring water and a bottle of Pinot Grigio. So I guess possibilities exist to include possible sex perhaps I ventured awkwardly while cutting my asparagus into sections. A great many, I hope, came her response with a piece of salmon tucked in her cheek. Dinner is early so we have plenty of time, may I suggest that we take it real slow? She said she likes slow. I pointed out, judging from the animalist urges displayed only moments earlier, that slow might not be possible unless she allowed me total control. Could I be trusted with such control she wondered. To create pleasure... implicitly, I said. She vowed to not speak another word unless commanded. For desert we had Baileys over ice in, save for it's tinkling, complete silence. There was a scintillating heat in the air between us. Occasionally she would stir her drink with her finger, which she would lick clean while looking at me from the corner of her eye.

That first session of ours I can see as if it were happening right now. I taped it.

A sky-blue fitted sheet drum-headed the king sized mattress in the middle of my bedroom. Stretched out on top of that was her, face down, naked. Dark blue velvety soft ropes with braided loops over each of her wrists and ankles drew them to the far corners of the bed. I completely removed the top of the container of baby powder and splashed a mound of it along her spine. I replaced the cap and set the container aside. Starting at her hands and feet with a brush of long soft bristles I spread the fine fragrant dust over her arms and legs as I moved around her on my knees sometimes straddling one of her extremities, sometimes sliding across her back, as I went from one side to the other. All the while I continued to play the brush toward her torso.

My cock, often bone hard during this process and pointing tensely up and beyond making contact with her body, would loose it's urgency from time to time and hang down a bit under it's own weight as my attention was absorbed by the act of brushing the powder onto her creamy skin. The video camera attending from a fully extended tripod up and off to the side revealed later the tracks of precum my dragging cock left on the skin of her dusted thighs and back as I moved into new locations along her body.

I continued to paint the powder onto her buttocks, the length of her spine, the flanks of her back and waist. The patterns of errant powder splashed upon the blue sheet were interesting and erotically abstract. With upward strokes I brushed the sidelong bulge of first one breast then the other. I collected her hair and roped it along one side of her neck and gained access to powder her nape.

Kneeling between her thighs again I could not bear it any longer. I sat back on my heels then ran my hands from the powdered tops of her thighs over her buns and firmly upward along the sides of her back to her shoulders all the while lowering myself until I was fully pressing my chest into her back, my cock finding space in the crack of her ass.

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