She was not really very surprised when she found herself standing in
front of the gate to the driveway;  while it was unusual, it was not
completely unexpected.  She supposed stranger things had happened.

It was a cool night.  When she looked up she didn't recognize the
positions of the stars;  the constellations seemed to be just a bit off.
There was the polar star, but a few degrees different than she had
expected;  there was Orion, but he seemed to have taken a baby step away
from where he normally stood.  She thought about that for a moment, and
decided that she did indeed know where she was.

There were no lights on inside the house.  From the position of the moon
she guessed that it was a few hours after midnight;  she pulled her coat
a little closer to her, although she was not cold.  The wind seemed to
go right through her, and for a moment she was frightened, but then she
thought of why she was here, or at least the most probable reason, and
she ceased to care just how she was here, or why, or any other question.
She accepted it and allowed a gladness to fill her.

She slipped through the gate effortlessly.  Her steps were light on the
gravel of the drive, soundless.

The lawn sparkled in the cold light of the evening;  it was almost
winter here, and soon the emeralds of the countryside would turn to
amber.  She heard a slight rustle and looked forward, peering;  a group
of cattle stood, head to tail to head, noses lowered to the ground in
contemplation.

She moved toward the front door, knowing it would be unlocked.  Things
were different here than where she was normally accustomed, but she had
expected no trouble of this sort anyway.  It was too long of a journey
for a simple door to end it.

She stood just inside the doorway, all of her senses wide awake and
straining.  She could feel the inhabitants of the house, lying sleeping;
she felt two tiny candleflames in the dark, hands clasped around their
own small secrets;  a woman who slept dreamless, secure; a man who lay
restless, his sleep still fresh and turbulent.  She turned to her right
and went through the door.

He was here, lying on his back on a sofa.  The fireplace was cold and
empty, and he lay under eiderdown, pulled up to his shoulders, one arm
carelessly thrown above his head.

She stood over him, looking down.  He seemed so vulnerable lying there,
unaware of her presence, her footfalls not even straying into his
dreams.  She smiled at him in tenderness as she watched him slip deeper
and deeper into sleep.  His face was flushed like a child's.

Somehow it seemed to become warmer in the room as she stood there,
looking at him, and he shifted under the eiderdown and it slipped
downward, unheeded;  his chest was naked, showing his nipples, flat and
smooth.  She resisted the urge to lean over and lick one to see how
quickly it would rise.

She knew he was not completely naked under his cover, as that was not
the sort of thing this man would do.  She thought of the things she
could do to take advantage of that, and she almost hugged herself in
joyous anticipation.

He seemed to murmur something, as if her excitement had caused a stir in
the still pool of his sleep.  She knelt beside him and put her ear close
to his full, warm lips, and the syllables she heard made her shiver.  It
had been her name.

She rose and let the coat slip from her shoulders and down to the floor.
The simple act of shedding that part of her gave her a slight thrill, as
if she had been touched by some kind of electric spark.  She felt the
thin, tiny hairs stand up on her forearms.

She watched his chest rise and fall with his breathing, his lips parted
slightly, his hair lying dark and tousled against his pillow.  Could he
really not feel her there, feel her hands find and open the button at
the top of her jeans, feel her slide the zipper downward?

Her hand ran down inside her open fly, surrounding itself with cloth and
warm skin.  She touched the outer lips of her vagina.  She had suspected
they would be wet, the flow from deeper inside brought on by the thought
of what she had been sent here to do.  She raised her hand to her lips.
Her juices were thin, slightly sweet.  A shudder took her at the thought
of him drinking from that source.

She slid her jeans down over her hips and stepped out of them.  They
seemed to melt down into the puddle of her coat on the floor, as if
leaving by her body they had no further reason to exist.  The rush of
air on her hot skin felt good, and she flexed the muscles in her thighs
as she felt the wetness creep downward.  The scent of her own arousal
wafted upward;  she felt as if she were a long-labored over  puzzle,
with the most important piece missing, here on the threshold of being
made complete.

She stepped out of her shoes and pushed them away from her with her
foot.  They disappeared in the shadows beneath a chair.

The moon disappeared behind a cloud, and the room was shrouded in
darkness.  She could feel his body shining there in her mind, warm and
alive;  she admired the smooth skin pulled taut from his shoulder to his
hip by his arm stretched over his head.  The tip of his tongue showed
for just a moment between his lips, and then retreated, leaving only the
slightest glimmer of moisture there.  She put her finger to it.  His
breath was hot upon her hand.

His head arched back, digging deeper into his pillow and the eiderdown
slipped from his body into the floor.  A sudden flood of uncovered
moonlight came into the room, throwing the planes of his body into
relief.

She knelt beside him on the soft cover on the floor.  She held her hand
out, silvered with the cold light from the window, and trailed one
finger over the bulge in his briefs, from the base up to the end of his
soft sex.  It stirred ever so slightly under her caress.  A tiny breath
escaped his lips.

She ran two fingers along each side of his cock, watching it lengthen
slowly under the cloth, its shape more defined as each moment went past.
She put her face near it, her breath stirring the down on the face of
his thighs.  She stroked his cock gently, teasing the tip of it through
warm cotton.  He shifted his hips, seeming to move them closer to her
involuntarily.  She smiled and licked her lips.

She lowered her face, and kissed the captured fullness of his balls,
breathing deeply of the musk of his skin, her heart beating rapidly with
the thought of being so close to her goal.  A muscle in his leg
contracted as she moved her mouth upward over his increasing hardness,
never letting her lips touch him, breathing out her hot breath from the
depths of her lungs over the length of his increasing erection.  It was
almost completely hard now, the head straining at the elastic of his
briefs.

She returned to the warmth between his thighs and, putting her tongue
out flat against his crotch, ran its warm pressure against his cock,
teeth nibbling lightly along it, lips pressing against it in a long,
traveling kiss.

His head rolled to one side, then the other;  the flush in his face
seemed to rise.  A sigh drifted upward from him as she pulled the
covering away from his body and, her lips wet and glistening, put her
tongue to the very tip of his cockhead, the hot feel of its flesh making
her shudder with lust as she ran her tongue around his foreskin,
savoring the taste of his maleness.

He moaned then, a slight sound, and she was afraid he would waken;  but
his hips lifted upward slightly, as if he were dreaming of her doing
this to him.  She seized the opportunity and pulled his briefs down over
his hips, freeing his sex, exposing the heaviness of his balls and the
delicious curve of his body backward to other, more hidden pleasures.

Bare from the last obstacle, his body was spread before her like a
banquet and she took to it like a woman starved.  She moved closer to
his chest and licked at a nipple there, teasing it with her tongue,
sucking on its slight rise while running her fingers over the other in
rhythm with the gentle pull of her mouth.  His breathing deepened, and
she could feel him struggle toward consciousness;  his hand went to his
hardness and wrapped around it instinctively, and his erection sprang
full under his half-dreaming touches.

Quickly, before he had the chance to awaken fully, she held his hand
steady in hers and threw her leg over him, wedging it between his hip
and the back of the sofa, one foot still on the floor.  She rubbed her
streaming pussy over the combined hardness of his hand and his cock, the
raspy feel of his skin making her clitoris twitch.  Pulling at his arm,
she poised herself above him and fit the head of his cock inside the
opening of her cunt, and then pushed his hot, hard length deep inside of
her body.

The feel of him sliding up inside of her was enough to make her cry out
softly, a long breath of delight.  His thickness pulled her inner lips
wide, filling her completely, the tip of his cock pressing against her
cervix.  She threw her head back and reached behind her to fondle his
balls as she slowly drew herself upward until just the head of his cock
barely touched her swollen lips, and then sank downward again, stroking
his cock with her muscles, contracting around it, tightening the
movement of his passage into her and then letting go so that he slipped
effortless inside of her.  She trapped him there, rotating her hips
clockwise, feeling his cock stir deep inside her body.

She could feel him so close to the surface of sleep, and she waited
quivering for him to open his eyes to see her there.  She pulled at the
opening of her sex, seeking out her distended clitoris and rubbed it
gently.

His eyes fluttered, and then opened wide.  He seemed startled, but only
for a split second, and then he realized that she was there with him,
his hardness sunk inside her, her breath coming in gasps as her fingers
on her clit made her body ache with a need to come.

He called her name, his deep voice but a whisper.  She held her finger
to her lips in the ages-old gesture for silence.  She leaned forward,
feeling his foreskin rub against the opening to her vagina, and put her
lips to his to ensure his silence.  His mouth tasted like honey, warm
and sugary.

She lifted herself upward shuddering with the loss of him and stood
beside him, holding her hands out to him, pulling him up from where he
lay.  She spread the quilt out on the floor and gestured to him to join
her on it;  she stroked his strong thigh as he did her bidding, lying on
his back, his eyes following her every movement.

She tapped his leg and he spread them apart;  she knelt in the triangle
they made, his sex the apex.  She lay on her stomach, hands spread wide,
framing his genitals, presenting them to her face.  She looked up at him
briefly, staring into the black pupils in his dark blue eyes.  She
smiled then, pulling his cock gently downward to her face, feeling its
hardness give just enough to angle it perfectly into her mouth.

She slid his cock slowly thorough her lips, pushing it downward over her
tongue, into the softness of the back of her throat.  She moaned in
appreciation of the feel of him, the taste of him in her mouth;
pressing on the base of his sex she guided it as far into her throat as
she could, moving it back and forth, caressing it with the tip of her
tongue.

Her fingers wrapped around his shaft, and the lobes of the head bulged,
the opening widening slightly to accept the caresses of her tongue in
the groove.  She moved one hand downward and took his balls into it,
delighting in their heaviness, in their warmth.  She felt one hand move
to the back of her head and rest there lightly.

Rising upward, she let the length of his sex escape from her mouth and
nibbled down toward his balls, following the vein.  His cock seemed to
kick against her lips as if seeking entrance to its hot, wet home.  She
smiled and ran her tongue over the skin between the twin globes in their
sac, then gently took one into her mouth, breathing hotly upon it,
plying it with wet caresses;  she released it and did the same for its
mate.

She arched her neck and took him into her mouth again, the downward
stroke tight and slow;  she massaged the muscles on the inside of his
thighs gently with her thumbs.  His other hand had found the nape of her
neck and stroked it and she slipped his cock in and out of her mouth,
tight and slow downward, easy and effortless upward.  She could feel the
muscles in his stomach tighten as his breathing deepened.

She slipped a hand underneath him, feeling the cool flesh of his
buttocks rest there;  the other held him rigidly downward for her
seeking mouth.  A finger ran inside the curving cleft, lightly touching,
flirting with his secret opening.  She felt him take a deep breath and
hold it, and a drop of pre-come trickled onto her tongue.  She sucked at
the tiny piercing of his cockhead, greedily seeking out more.

She lifted her head and guided his hand to his sex, closing his fist
around its shaft.  She got to her knees beside him, her ass waving
slightly in the air, laughing softly at his groans as he struggled to
his knees and positioned himself behind her.  The thick head of his cock
prodded at the opening to the depths of her vagina, and she pressed back
upon it, taking in a long hiss of breath as she felt him again inside of
her.  His hands were blazing against the cool skin of her derriere, his
thighs warm against the backs of her own.  He thrust in her with tiny
movements, letting her revel in the feel of him completely filling her.
She leaned forward, her cheek pressed hard against the eiderdown, her
arm trapped beneath her, two fingers rubbing each side of her clitoris
as his cock pushing into her made her body sway.

He must have felt her body tremble with the first faint beginnings of
orgasm;  he started to murmur to her, encouraging her, begging her to
come for him, to let him feel her come around his cock thrusting deep
inside her body.  She felt her body start to lose its tight control, and
begin to pulse around him in its own rhythm;  she gasped as he pressed a
finger to her anus and slipped it inside her, stroking it in time with
the motion of his hips.  The pulsing became a burn, all-consuming, a
burning of unbearable pleasure, and then she felt her muscles contract,
hard, pulling her clitoris through her fingers over and over again, and
she cried out, the quilt muffling the sound.

She pulled away from him and turned quickly over, her legs spread wide
in front of him, her juices flowing down and trickling between the
cheeks of her ass.

"I want to watch you come."  She whispered, the sound like the wind
sweeping the night-shrouded lawn.  "I want you to come all over me.
Bathe me in it, drown me in it."  The light shone fiercely from her
eyes.

He moved his knees apart, balancing, his hand gripping his hardness,
caressing it, teasing it;  the wetness from her pussy still glistening
on its length.  She put her hands to her own sex and stroked it gently,
watching him, fascinated.  His lips were open, his breath husking
through them, his eyes downcast, watching her fingers caress her clit.
His hand slid over his shaft expertly, and he groaned with the pleasure
of it, intensified by her lustful gaze.

Her pussy burned with the memory of his beautiful cock sunk deep within
her;  she let two fingers take its place, bearing down hard on them as
she stroked her clit, wanting to come again for him, to let him watch
her masturbate until she had another burning climax.  She was not sure
she could come again so quickly after the strong pull of the first, but
she soon felt the familiar sensation of her entire being holding its
breath, and she arched her back and drew in her breath through her teeth
as she felt herself hurtling toward the edge, and then over, her wetness
flowing out around her fingers like warm rain.

The sight of her coming seemed to make him reach the point of no return,
and she threw her legs around his waist, drawing him to her, wanting
every precious drop of his come to fall on her.  He almost seemed to sob
with a pleading for release, his balls tight, his cock swollen, the head
shining wetly;  she pleaded with him to come, to let her feel his come
stream over her, and he looked into her face, his eyes wide, his pupils
dilated, perhaps unseeing.  He gave a loud cry and she echoed it with
her own as his come spurted out over her, splashing onto her stomach,
her breasts, her chin, her face.  Her hands flew to it, rubbing it into
her mouth, into the hardness of her nipples, the skin of her breasts.

He swayed above her, his rigid cock held out before him, dripping down
onto the lips of her vagina, his head sunk down and resting on his
heaving chest.  She held up her arms to him, beckoning him to her,
pleading for the touch of his body fully on hers, and he melted over
her, and was enveloped into her arms.

"My darling."  She whispered, as quiet as a shadow falling, and reached
upward and ran her hand through his sweat-dampened hair.  He shuddered
slightly.  Pulling half of the eiderdown over him, she gently slid from
beneath him, leaving him lying in the floor, wrapped securely in his
quilt.

She found her jeans and blouse and they gave her body substance in the
darkness.  Her shoes and her coat materialized out of the shadows as she
pulled them into the moonlight.  She went to the door, her steps not
making a sound, and turned around for one last look at him before she
had to leave.

"Happy birthday, my beloved."  She said, and was gone.