Marv's Story - Minneapolis

Book 4: Silvering Years

by Sonja Mhyla Jonaro

Genres: Erotic & Steamy Romance; erotic romance; second chance; couples romance; light bdsm; mature erotica; sensual; fantasies; Silvering Years

Synopsis

This love story is...
More emotional than erotica,
More sensual than romance...
About people in their sixties!

Marv found her up on the nude deck.

Sylvan was on the cruise to rebuild her life after her husband died, “To experience the most from it,” she said. Sheesh. He was there to be pampered as a reward for making it through another year of work.

He soon discovered she meant ‘sensual experience' and was unafraid to explore erotic delights that even caught him by surprise. But when she needed a spanking, he had to rethink everything he thought he knew about being sensual... and everything he thought he knew about being in love.

He'd messed up his first marriage a few years back by working too hard, now he had a second chance to get it right. Sylvan was the most incredible woman he'd ever met and he was completely captive to her charms. Maybe it wasn't real. That would kill him.

The last two weeks had been hell, but she's finally on her way to see him. He's got the heat turned up and the wine chilled. What's he missing? Turns out, that would be the purple paddle, the boots and the hat to make him king of the Six-One-Two.

— — —

Part veiled memoir, part luscious fantasy, part provocative example, the books of Silvering Years are intended for mature readers unafraid to be immersed in the wonders of their sensuality.

Minneapolis is the second set of books in the Silvering Years series. They meet on a cruise in Eastern Caribbean. Sylvan's Story tells the tale from her perspective. Read his story, or hers, or both! In the next set of books we'll follow Marv as he visits Sylvan at her home in Santa Fe. After that? Who knows where they'll end up... happily ever after...

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Release date: April 5, 2025

Publisher: Ad Lectorem Publishers

Print pages: 414

Content advisory: A Silvering Years erotic novel.

Sample

The fourth Silvering Years erotic novel.

Sunday 19:37

 

Damn, her plane was late before it took off from Denver and it hadn’t made up time coming across the plains. FlightAware said it landed thirty minutes ago; the monitor said it was at the gate.

Still no sign of Sylvan.

Marv stared at his phone. Being able to track the flight to the minute only amplified his nervous anticipation.

Two weeks ago on the cruise, this day was a speck on the horizon, yet here it was and the endless waiting was killing him.

He had filled each day to bursting with work to ensure nothing needed his attention on this day. It was easier that way. Every moment he wasn’t heads-down on a task, he was thinking about her: the nine o’clock call, seeing her again, looping his favorite times with her over and over in his head. When he had a few brain cycles to spare, he would yearn for the time when he would see her again. His yearning made time crawl, so he worked hard to not have empty moments.

Day on the Chicago project rolled past, leaving him exhausted with only enough energy in reserve for his evening call. By the time he moved on to Cincinnati, he wasn’t sure if he was coming or going. Each day, he would carefully plan to be in his room or in some quiet place so he could talk with her and see her on his phone, ten o’clock in Chicago, eleven in Cincinnati.

As the days went by, he thought his memory of her was becoming worn like an overplayed LP, muted, scratchy. It seemed he was forgetting so much, her mannerisms, the way she talked, the way she said ‘Huí, Marv’ in admonition. He could hear her voice every night and see her face, but he couldn’t feel her close and touch her or smell the way her body expressed the special scent she wore or the musky note of her pussy.

He came to realize he hadn’t had enough time to forge a bond of awareness with her. Everything he remembered was on the surface of his memory and not a deeply held part of his mind and body. Thinking that brought a chill of panic to his heart. He didn’t want to tell Sylvan of his thoughts because he didn’t want her to think she was so easily forgotten. She was not.

General things he remembered just fine, but not the details. He’d been an observer of her, as she was of him. They hadn’t had time to become participants in each other’s lives. How long does that take? Days, months, years?

His desire to know Sylvan perfectly made the time apart even harder to bear. As one week became two, his yearning increased, so he worked yet more diligently to keep himself occupied.

Now she was right here, his work was set aside, nothing required his attention except her, but he had only his anticipation to occupy his time and it was taking forever for her to get from the gate to baggage claim.

Coffee from the shop down a couple of carousels did not help his nervous angst. He had thought about this moment and considered ways to make it special. Everything had crossed his mind: a limo, flowers, Mariachi band, fireworks, jewelry. Nothing seemed right. Nothing could express how much joy he would feel to see her. And all of that was giving her something, when he knew what she wanted was nothing more than him.

So he decided to do nothing special, just be there when she arrived, happy to see her, ready to give himself to her. Each evening, they talked about their day and shared the little things that made it interesting or the beautiful things that made it special. Now, the conversation would be replaced by sharing of a different kind: the interesting and beautiful things created between them.

He was thankful he didn’t have to think much about what was happening at home. While he was away, Jan took care of the house and kept everything nice and tidy. She had even made a casserole for him to put in the oven when he got home yesterday. Jan cared for him, even though theirs was strictly a business relationship.

He had told Jan that Sylvan would be staying for a week and asked her to set things out to make Sylvan feel at home. Not only had Jan put a set of towels on the second bar in the bathroom, she had also cleared a shelf in the medicine cabinet and had moved his things from half the dresser so Sylvan had a place for her toiletries and her clothes. He appreciated her thoughtfulness.

Jan was younger, probably in her forties. He’d never had sexy thoughts about her. Well, maybe a few, but he seldom saw her. Did she have any sexy feelings for him? She certainly knew a lot about his most private matters. He assumed she didn’t abuse his privacy. At times he thought he should call her Mrs. Bolton.

He hoped she and Sylvan would like each other. When was cleaning day? Friday. He could introduce her to Sylvan and talk with her then.

Sylvan seemed so happy and busy each time they talked. They talked of yearning and desire, professing love and hope for the future. He sent a text to greet her when she landed, to let her know he was there and to express some of his joy at her arrival, but there was no reply. Something must be wrong.

There had been only one night he couldn’t call right at nine. The combination of a dead battery, travel delays and technical failures conspired to render him incommunicado. But he did call much later and woke her up. She was not upset and very happy to hear from him. It was comforting to talk with her. Why wasn’t she bouncing back now?

How could two people possibly sustain the level of passion they had shared on the cruise without burning themselves to embers? The fire had to change and Sylvan had talked about how that would happen.

But keeping the ember alive was difficult, but vital. At times he wondered if he was falling out of love, coming down as fast as he had gone up. No, that wasn’t it. He came to realize there was now a part of him that wasn’t there before, something he could use like a foundation, a supporting pillar, giving him strength, reminding him of what he shared with Sylvan, not in the past, but in the present. He was in love. The fire of their passion had created this and he used it to keep himself together and the ember alight.

For four days on the cruise they had been so incredibly intimate, he believed he knew Sylvan pretty well, but in the time since then, he wondered if he actually did know her—or understand her—sufficiently well to do what would let her be happy with him. What flavor of ice cream did she like? What genre of movie? Was she afraid of spiders? The haze of passion surrounding them on the cruise would have made anything seem perfect, but now the haze was clearing, and while he hoped the passion was still there, he could not rely on obscurity to provide what clarity required: expressing his love by doing the right thing. He hoped he would figure it out and Sylvan would help him.

He did feel ignorant of her desires. There were times when it was hard to come up with things to talk about. Mostly they talked about the story of their day. Over the phone it wasn’t easy to talk about more because there was no hand to touch, no expressions to see. He could hear her voice and the tone of her words like music in his ears, but he had to close his eyes to see her face and imagine the way her lips curved into a smile or how her brow wrinkled as she made some point.

They tried FaceTime but it didn’t help. The tiny pictures proved more of a distraction than a complement to their conversation. He preferred to imagine, especially when she laughed. In his mind, he saw how her laugh touched the corners of her eyes, then crept to her cheeks, then to her lips as she opened her mouth to express her mirth.

He came to realize, in their time apart, how he loved her eyes when they danced and her lips when they parted with a caress of her tongue to kiss him, how he loved how she touched him to enliven and excite his body.

She could arouse and excite him so easily. She had touched him with the same kind of intimacy she had for her own body. Probably because she loved her body, she could touch his the way she did.

Her touch was so much more than hitting the right places. The male geography didn’t require much of a map to chart all the hot spots. It was the way she touched him that was so exciting. Even in places not labeled erogenous. With her hand on his belly or at the small of his back, on his cheek or his arm she could communicate lust and desire, arousing him or guiding him to arouse her. She could also calm him with her touch, in the same places but in a different way telling him she was fine or that he shouldn’t worry.

It was how she used the rest of her body to touch him that he remembered most dearly and brought up most often to provide a background for their conversations. She had touched him with her breasts with such extravagance. With her belly and hips and her ass. It was as if she was using her body to request his touch, often and deeply.

But she didn’t use her body to cling to him. He never felt she was striving to make herself the focus of his attention. She didn’t need his attention and she didn’t act the least bit abandoned when he noted with his eyes the beauty of another woman. Hers was a beauty he could touch. She knew that.

They had talked about how sensuality and downright sexiness is not exclusive to the human body but can be found in many places and situations. The curve of water rushing over rocks or the smell of nature in the morning, the fluttering kiss of a breeze through the leaves.

She never pulled away to avoid touching him with her breasts or any other part of her, as if their auras would merge instead of repel.

People used their hands and faces to express and clarify their meaning. Sylvan used her whole self, making a point with her breasts pressed firmly against his arm, a light brush to focus his attention, bobbing when she was happy. There was no better way to say ‘I love you’ than with her ass snuggling his cock.

His fondest memories were of them naked with nothing to obscure the pleasure of her body against his. He’d never thought about the idea of sharing one’s body until he spent those days with Sylvan. It seemed she understood it completely and practiced it with abandon.

He was amazed by the way her nipples expressed her feelings. Growing stiff when they talked of something sexy—or something beautiful. He had always thought nipples were an indicator of sexual arousal, but with Sylvan they expressed many forms of excitement: surprise, anger, joy. When they did FaceTime naked, Sylvan would move the phone to show her breasts. Her nipples would grow firm when she talked about her designs or something she had experienced that brought a moment of wonder to her day.

They tried FaceTime playtime but it didn’t have the power it did in the afterglow of their four days together. Besides, he was usually wiped out at the end of the day and there wasn’t enough of him left to be very sexy.

They talked about pleasuring themselves. Sylvan had told him she had a lot of practice during her process of re-creating her life. She was good at it and it seemed second nature to her, but she also told him how the sexual pleasure was not complete without the emotional pleasure of having him there to share it.

He didn’t take the ED meds while they were apart—not much need—so his cock was usually uninterested in their nightly conversations. He still woke many mornings with a hard-on, but by the time he figured out where he was, it was going flat. He always wondered what his dreams had been. A couple of times he could get hard thinking about sex with Sylvan, but that didn’t last either. The mechanics of stroking his cock took his mind off the wonders of their shared pleasures. He discovered it wasn’t the sensations of sex that were important but rather the connection it provided. He didn’t need a connection to himself, he needed a connection to her.

One afternoon he took a couple of hours to stroll down the Magnificent Mile in Chicago. He thought it might be fun to find some fancy panties or something… for her. It was exciting to imagine what she would look like in some of the finest, but the one-hundred-ninety dollar price tag was more than he could handle. He figured it was the same fun to take something off that cost a tenth as much. Besides, it was for him and not for her.

Another day he had an afternoon free. He called around to find an unopened flacon of Poison, being passed from person to person as if he was working some back alley deal. That was the evening they tried FaceTime playtime. He played the voyeur, watching Sylvan get herself over the edge, but he couldn’t get there himself. She was sad he didn’t share her orgasm. Being immersed in the scent of her perfume didn’t fill his heart the way it did when it was mixed with her own scent.

Later, when he lay in bed thinking, he wondered if he had lost the fire.

That wasn’t it at all. He didn’t feel different about Sylvan. He was feeling different about sex. It seemed much more sacred, something he had to share to experience fully. He was fine with that.

He got up to walk the kinks from his legs. He wandered down to check on the carousel assignment and the Denver flight was still on number seven. There weren’t any people around the carousel so he probably hadn’t missed her. It was getting strangely quiet. Few people milled about, none of the carousels at this end of baggage claim were running. Things were surprisingly peaceful.

Crowds at the airport were interesting. All kinds of folks, some with a mission and a plan to get there, others not at all sure what they were doing. Most were in between, usually meeting someone. There were families coming together in a scrum of hugs. Business associates with handshakes. Happy couples. Unhappy couples too. Some folks just wanted to be angry, others absolutely bubbled over with enthusiasm. Some were wobbly from their in-flight self-medication.

There were times when beauty walked. Airports were incredible places to watch women. At least the mature ones he loved to watch. Those women had a reason to be there and had paid the entry fee. Their motive went beyond showing up to look good.

Some of them knew how good they looked and were brittle in their manner as if they had on some kind of disguise to hide their insecurity. They were usually part of a couple, where the man would help with their bags, probably some miniature dog too.

Some had all the right curves and revealed them with carefree abandon. They were there to meet their boyfriends for a naughty weekend.

And some not only looked good, they moved with grace and poise as if they owned the place. They wore the expensive suits, silk blouses, high heels. No one met them. They didn’t need any help. They were there to buy a company or file a lawsuit.

He loved to watch that kind of woman. Confident, thoughtful, intelligent. Few of them had the features or body of someone you would call sexy. They came in all different shapes and sizes. Most often, though, they were fit. They were the kind of woman who would look good naked, instead of only looking good with their clothes on. He had tried to meet some of them at the lobby bar, but discovered they always had the rest of their life as organized as their appearance and their man was at home buying companies for himself.

But he still loved to watch them and create the fantasy backstory that brought them onto his radar. Sometimes, one would catch his eye and she would smile to acknowledge his attention. Usually, they would not even see him. They wanted to get through the airport as quickly as possible and baggage claim was not a place for those kinds of meetings.

A few times, he tried his luck on the other side of security where the alcohol was served, but he soon discovered there wasn’t enough time or the right conditions to lift the odds of meeting someone interesting above one in a million. So he simply watched and savored the moment in his private reverie.

The number of people coming down the escalators to baggage claim had been a trickle for some time but now it was picking up. Most folks queued up to check on their baggage carousel then turned toward seven, so this must be the flight. He had booked a seat for Sylvan in first class. He expected her to be at the head of the pack, but no such luck.

He stood to get a better view. Each person was revealed in slow motion as they descended the escalator. First their feet, legs, torso. Finally their face. He would bend down sometimes to get a preview. He was beginning to doubt he remembered what Sylvan looked like and must have missed her. But no one called to him or waved when they cleared the one-way doors at the bottom.

This is nuts. Where is she?

He checked his phone. No message.

His radar was tuned to maximum sensitivity and he had to check every bogey. Maybe that was her, a silver-haired beauty floating down the escalator. Tallish, thinish—not Sylvan—but beauty nonetheless. Lusciously curvy tits. Expensive pants, airy, silky blouse, her jacket draped over the rolling bag in tow. Shit! She was even wearing heels.

It was impossible to stay focused on his mission with this kind of distraction. She moved with a corporate grace as the crowd milled around her. This woman scanned the signs, turned and headed toward the taxi stands, straight toward him. Damn, she just flows.

In an instant she caught his eye. All the alarms went off in his head. Does she know me? Am I supposed to know her? He was scrolling through his mental Rolodex as fast as he could but didn’t come up with a clue as to who this woman might be. She was coming straight at him and he couldn’t look away. That would be impolite, if she did know him. But he couldn’t hold her gaze, that implied more than he could deliver. Yeah, she was incredible but he had another incredible woman coming along any minute now. His head was going to explode.

Shit and double shit.

A month ago, this would have been an interesting situation, but now it was not what he wanted. As she closed in, he felt a rising panic. He was like a deer in the headlights and he was going to get hit.

His world collapsed to a single point focused on her eyes. He was doomed. She was two steps away. He inhaled, his mind running full tilt to think of an apology—or a greeting—when hands slipped under his arms from behind and wrapped themselves around his chest, pulling him back from the brink.

Every nerve shorted out. His hands popped open, he dropped his phone. The woman coming at him dodged, and with his last fleeting glimpse, she gave him an air kiss.

Then Sylvan’s voice filled his head.

“Hi Marv. Are you being a naughty boy?”

Sunday 20:23

 

Holy shit!

“Sylvan!” he croaked.

Her breasts pressed against his back, Sylvan’s aura flowed over him. She relaxed her grip. He took a breath and turned in a daze. A woman his daughter’s age had picked up his phone and held it out to him, a broad grin spread across her face.

His eyes focused. There she was, a warm smile in a woman’s body. Damn! He was the luckiest man alive, or dead, or nearly dead, for that matter. All he could do was stand there and absorb the sight of her, letting the vision fill him with love and hope and joy.

All the memories and feelings he thought he might have lost were now renewed and flooding to fill his heart. Her special scent filled his mind as he inhaled deeply. Here was Sylvan. She was real.

He took a step and she lifted into his arms. It felt so natural, her arms around his neck, her body flowing against his, her lips meeting his, parting, their tongues dancing a greeting, then a full tango, caressing, exploring, bold assurance they were finally together.

A small part of his brain wondered what they must look like: two folks who could be middle-aged to elderly, depending on one’s own age, acting like young lovers. He relished the thought. This can happen to anyone at any age, whether finding someone new or rediscovering the one you’ve been with for decades.

They parted and Sylvan floated back to earth. “I love you,” she mouthed in words too soft to hear. He smiled and hugged her close for one moment more.

“I love you, too” he said as he pressed his cheek against hers. He didn’t want to let her go. His entire being revived and replenished. His spirit renewed. His connection to Sylvan now substantial and vibrant. He held her at the reach of his arms and smiled. “There are so many feelings I never knew that you’ve shown to me. This is yet another. I want to thank you every day for the rest of my life.”

“Huí, I’m so happy to be here, Marv. I feel whole again,” said Sylvan, a small tear tracking down her cheek. “We put on a good show. Que no?”

A few people were watching as he surveyed the crowd around them. Some of the women had a wistful look on their faces. Some looked embarrassed. Most of the men were just watching Sylvan with a lusty smile. One gave him a quick nod when their eyes met. That man loves his woman, too.

All he wanted to do was gather her in his arms again, but the bags were dropping on number seven. Sylvan reached for her carry-on and his hand at the same time. “Let’s get my bag,” she said as she strode toward the carousel, with him in tow, floating along on a cloud of bliss.

“Which one?” he asked when they got close.

“There it is.” She pointed. “Dark green, red ribbon.” He let go of her hand and intercepted the bag.

“Was it a good fight?” he asked as he returned.

“It was all fine. We were late leaving Denver and didn’t make up any time on our way. I read some and snoozed some. When we landed, I discovered I’d left my phone on and the battery had died. Then there was some kind of confusion about the gates so we ended up on another concourse.” Sylvan smiled, reached for his hand and squeezed it. “Apparently, I took the back way down to baggage claim and was able to sneak up on you.”

“Quite the surprise,” he said, turning them toward the underground passage to parking. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

Sylvan giggled. “I have to tell you, Marv. That woman saw me heading toward you and we exchanged a glance. Before I knew it, she had you all set up for me. It was fun. You’ll recover, won’t you?”

He gave a huff and glanced over to see her eyes shining back at him. “Nothing some good bottom warming won’t fix, my little minx.” His cock started to pay attention to the conversation.

The wheels of her bag thumped on the expansion joints.

“Did you bring a backup Sylvan along? This bag is heavy.”

“Ombers, no. Just my toys in case I get bored.” This time she didn’t look at him when he turned to her. “A girl has to be prepared for anything, right?” Now she looked at him, her brow arched in an innocent question.

“Seems to me you brought along a lot of naughty.” Sylvan’s face lit up with a laugh and she gave him an air kiss.

“Are you hungry?” he asked, looking around to see if anyone was in earshot. “I would love to take you home right now and fuck you silly but I’m thinking there’s a lot of time for that and I want to just stare into your eyes for a while. My neighborhood is home to a place with the best pizza on the planet. The crowd should be thinning out about now.”

He wanted to immerse himself in the warm pool of Sylvan’s love. He wanted to feel her surround him, soothe him, make him whole; to be still and secure while the world swirled around them.

“I haven’t eaten since breakfast. Do they have some wine? I would love to sit with you and enjoy some pizza and a glass of good wine,” Sylvan said, coming to a stop. She pivoted her carry-on and opened it to retrieve her jacket. “I suppose it’s kind of chilly here.”

He just smiled and nodded. Snow was on the ground. It had been a long, hard winter and spring was still around the corner. Sylvan grasped his arm as the doors opened with a blast of cold and they walked out into the parking ramp, the cold biting their cheeks.

“I love you,” she said, pulling him close to shield herself from the bluster.

“I love you, too,” he replied. “I hope you enjoy my city. I know this may not be where we end up but it’s a nice place to live even if this isn’t the best time of year to demonstrate it.”

“It’s wonderful being here with you. It feels so natural. I feel as if I’m coming home. I’m filled with anticipation without a hint of apprehension. This is going to be a wonderful time.”

“Then, welcome home. We’ll make our home together wherever we are.”

It had also been his lucky day for parking. He had found a spot in the short-term area just steps from the door. He nodded toward his car and stopped in back of his Beamer X3.

“Nice ride,” said Sylvan.

“Thanks. It’s a couple of years old. I had it imported with a big diesel in green. Not many of these around. It’s small and nimble with enough torque to pull a plow. Or walk through deep snow.” He popped the hatch and loaded the luggage. As he closed the hatch he turned to see Sylvan watching him closely. She smiled and held out her arms. He stepped into her embrace, holding her close with her cheek on his shoulder. He was bundling her up, protecting her, feeling complete, but, frankly, he wasn’t used to holding her with so much clothing between them.

With one arm around her, he guided her toward the passenger’s door and she got in. He hadn’t even noticed what she was wearing. Blue jeans that hugged her hips and flowed down her legs, a T-shirt that revealed nothing but woman, a burgundy hiking jacket that graced her curves. Damn, her clothes complement her so well.

He stood for a moment looking at her without closing the door. She looked up at him and smiled. “What is it, Baby?”

“I don’t know. Here you are. I didn’t think I would survive until this day, and now here you are. I expected I’d want to make raging love to you right there on the baggage carousel but I’m feeling completely different. It feels as if you were away on a trip, out of town for a few days and I’ve just picked you up at the airport. No big deal. We’re just going to grab a bite then go home as if we’ve been together for years. I love this feeling and the feeling of loving you.” He leaned in and kissed her softly. Sylvan closed her eyes and hummed with pleasure.

He closed the door and went around to his side. When he started the engine, Sylvan turned to him and touched his hand on the console. “Marv, are you worried I think there’s something wrong if you’re not trying to tear my clothes off right here?”

A twinge of embarrassment crossed his mind at her choice of words but she wasn’t trying to be shocking, just clear. “Yeah. I love you so and I want to savor each morsel of our time together. There’s a depth to my feelings I didn’t know was there until now. I really feel good. Things are turned around. On the cruise we were using the sex to get to know each other. Now I look forward to the sex being a celebration of knowing you.”

“You have to remember we’ve done a lot of talking over the last two weeks. All of what we talked about and said to each other is being actualized in our being together. I love the feeling of loving you, too.” She smiled at him and squeezed his hand. “Let’s go get some pizza, and some wine. I’ve been looking forward to some good wine all day. And then we’re going to fuck ourselves silly,” she said with a snicker.

He zigged and zagged his way out of the parking ramp, through the tollgates and they were on the road in moments. The train from downtown was passing on the viaduct overhead.

“We even have our own rail system now, just like the big cities,” he said. “We’ll do some touring and I’ll show you some interesting things, but the big picture is that my city is here because of the Mississippi River. Well, actually, the Falls of St. Anthony. They have the largest drop anywhere on the Mississippi and have provided power, first to saw the lumber that built Chicago then to mill the flour that fed the world. Today the falls are more scenic than industrial, but we’re a center for business, high-tech and medicine not rivaled by too many other places.

“So much of the historic fabric of my city was torn down in the fifties and sixties in the name of urban renewal but what we have left gives a hint of what was once a glorious time. Most of us who live here love the place, despite the cold. That in itself demonstrates how great it is: one has to have a good reason to be willing to spend a winter here like we had this year.”

Falling silent, he looked over at Sylvan. She was looking out the window, tired but relaxed, a smile on her face, her eyes sparkling from the lights on the road as the vista of downtown opened up along the freeway corridor on her side. He had his hand on the center console and Sylvan’s hand was on his. Every moment she touched him, he became stronger and more confident about his feelings, how he loved her and how right it was to have her here. Her touch was causing a feeling of another kind to rise up in him as he played back vignettes of their escapades on the cruise. The details were imprecise, but the feelings were consuming and by the time he turned off the freeway and drove toward Pizzeria Lola, his cock required some in-pants adjustment.

Lola’s is a fun place with a big wood oven in the center and everyone having a good time. Parking was always terrible, but he would usually just walk the few blocks from his home. Today continued to be his lucky parking day and he found a spot half a block away. Lola’s would be a good first impression, not very fancy, but the most incredible pizza one could find anywhere. It spoke eloquently of the Minneapolis ethos of restrained excellence.

A booth was open near the window, away from the bustle. They ordered the Hawaii Pie-O without the peppers. He didn’t want indigestion to ruin the evening. Sylvan had a glass of the German Riesling, but he had a Lonely Blonde from downtown. He told stories about the neighborhood and the creek running nearby as they enjoyed their pie.

“Why do you like this neighborhood so much?” asked Sylvan.

“Well, places like this. Some incredible chefs have opened up little places around here so it’s a haven for wonderful, creative food. Lots of coffee shops and quirky neighborhood joints. There are sidewalks for walking the dog and a Little Free Library on ’most every block. Trees and the lakes and the creek. Easy access to the essentials like groceries and hardware. Half an hour from world-class art and music and theater. Broadway stuff too. Neighbors are thoughtful and friendly, pretty much liberal because we’re well educated. We’re very fortunate. The recession hardly touched us. We’re affluent enough to keep our places up quite well but not so wealthy as to make us snobs.”

Sylvan leaned back and sighed. She looked happy. “What’s a Little Free Library?” she asked.

“It’s a box with books that folks put out by the sidewalk. They have a roof and a door just like a shed and sit up on a post. It’s great fun to walk along and see what people’ve put in them. You can take a book that looks interesting and return it when you’re done or bring back another one. Or two.”

“Does anyone put sexy books in their library?”

“Not that I’ve seen. I’d love to, but all of them would get borrowed and not returned.”

Sylvan looked tired and ready to go. “There’s one last thing I want to do here. They have a photo booth in back, the kind where you get a strip of three pictures. I want to get a couple of strips as a memento.” He turned and caught the server’s eye, asking for the check and two tokens for the photo booth in pantomime.

The server stopped and he handed over his card. He escorted Sylvan toward the end of the bar, past the wall of memories where people had left their photo strips hanging on wires. They popped into the booth. He didn’t want to rehearse, just see what happened. The first picture was all smiles, the second cuddles and the third a kiss. He dropped in the second token. The first picture another kiss, the second the same kiss with just the tops of their heads showing, the third they were out of the frame.

“These are the most wonderful pictures I can imagine. I want to take them to my framer and make them a permanent addition to my bedroom.”

The pictures from the cruise had arrived while he was away. They were stunning. He hadn’t had time to take them to the framer as he had hoped, so that was something else they could do.

They headed back to the table and he carefully filed the picture strips in his pocket.

Sylvan leaned toward him. She looked relaxed and happy. “Marv,” she whispered. “I want to feel your hands caressing me all over my body then some special parts of you feeling me from the inside. Take me home so you can wash me off in the shower, then get me wet on your bed.”

Holy fuck!

He caught his breath and his body tensed. “Shit, yeah,” he said, trying to act calm. His cock was growing uncomfortably cramped as he retrieved his card and signed the check.

“Marv, I’m going to share the costs of my trip,” Sylvan said over his shoulder.

“Okay,” he said. “We can sort that out later. Right now, I have to get you home.” He helped her with her jacket and put his on at the door. As she walked out the door, she ran her hand across his crotch and bounced over the speed-bump that was his cock. Accidentally? Not a chance.

It was only a few blocks to his house along tree-lined streets and over the creek. The trees were bare and snow was piled on the boulevards. He was sorry this was not a good first impression. The place would be much more attractive in a couple of months or after a fresh coat of snow. Sylvan was absorbing the scenery as they drove along. It was dark, lending an eerie feeling to the trees and snow.

“I’m sorry things look so dismal,” he said. “We had more snow a couple of days ago.”

“Marv,” said Sylvan, her brow creased and tone rising. “Not another word about the cold, or grimy snow, or bleak trees. You’ve chosen this place for good reasons. I look forward to learning why, because it’s a precious part of you. So stop fussing about it.” She still looked at him sternly as they pulled into the drive and waited for the garage door to open.

“Okay. You’re so special. I love you.” He reached over and gently squeezed her hand. “Here we are. My little brick house.”

He pulled in and pressed the button to close the door. By the time he got out, Sylvan was already heading back to retrieve her bag. When he caught up, she put her hand on his chest. “Memmer, Marv. I’m at home, just like you. I may not know where everything is but I’m going to make myself at home and mess up your life, so be prepared.”

Oh, oh. I wonder how Jan is going to like that?

She grinned and gently pushed him out of the way. He stepped back to open the hatch. She grabbed her carry-on bag and dropped it on the floor. He lifted her large bag out and did the same. She strode toward the door to the lower level as if she’d done this many times.

“Huí, Marv, are you coming?” she called over her shoulder. “You have some work to do on my bottom.”

Fuck! He wasn’t as prepared for her visit as he thought.

He swallowed, closed the hatch and followed her into the house. Only then did it occur to him that Sylvan probably knew as much about his house as he did, at least in a way. She designed these things. At some point there just aren’t many differences between them.

She went through the door and stopped to remove her boots. She put them on the mat, then headed up the stairs to the main level. By the time he had his shoes off, he had lost sight of her.

Her big bag was heavy, confirmed by an orange tag waving from the handle. It slowed him down. Turning the corner into the hall, he saw her take a quick look around and turn down the hall toward the bedrooms.

She has been here. He had shown her the bedroom when they shared FaceTime playtime after the cruise, so she had a good idea where it was to have windows facing south.

With her bag in tow, he plodded down the hall to the bedroom. As he came through the door, he looked up just in time to see her coming at him, her arms wide, matching the smile on her face. Unprepared for her embrace, her big bag scooted up behind him just as Sylvan threw her arms around his neck. He teetered off balance. For a moment, his feet were unable to move to support himself and he began to tip backward, his arms flailing in the air.

Sylvan clung to him and his body reacted by using her as counterweight to right itself.

“Oh, I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I need to be better prepared for your attacks.”

He straightened up and swung his hands down, landing a solid smack on both cheeks of her ass. She gasped, while his motion lifted her up to him.

He breathed deeply, the scent of her filled him with joy, as he celebrated her breasts against his chest and the firm mound of her mons pressed into his crotch.

My woman.

Their lips met. He returned her kiss slowly and deeply to absorb all of her, to reconnect with her and her body, memories flooding through his mind.

She leaned back and looked into his face. “Oh, Baby. I feel as if I’m able to live again. Your love is now so much of my life.”

The sensuous excitement had powered his cock to rock-hard. There was barely enough blood left to supply his brain. “Half the dresser has been cleared out for your things,” was all he could think of to say.

Sylvan pulled herself close, laying her cheek on his chest. “I’m home. I’d be home anywhere with you, but you have a wonderful home here and I’ll enjoy seeing it tomorrow.” She held him at arm’s length to look into his eyes. “Right now, I’m heading to the bathroom before I burst. Please find my toiletries kit in my big bag and come to join me. Oh, and let Mr Penis and the Boys out of their bondage so I can see how they’re doing.” Then she turned to the bathroom and closed the door.

He gulped.

Holy, shit! She just moved in.

Sunday 22:31

 

An unexpected shiver stole his breath. He’d been alone for many years. He had all his stuff right where he needed it. Jan took care of the details.

What kind of changes would come crashing down on him?

He moved slowly to tip the blinds closed. One part of his mind was doing the algebra: he wanted Sylvan there more than he needed his stuff organized. He turned off the overhead light and adjusted the nightstand lights to give the room a comforting glow. Another part of his mind was doing the psychology: love was ’way more important than inconvenience. He would just have to get used to sharing.

With a grunt, he hoisted the big bag onto the bed and unzipped the cover.

There were two small bags on top. He gently squeezed one. Either it was filled with zucchini or it held Sylvan’s sex toys. He gulped. This is going to be some ride. The other must be toiletries, so he set it aside.

Sylvan had a couple of magazines and books; architecture and mysteries. Feeling like an intruder, he didn’t want to dig around, but at the wheeled end were a basketball, football and soccer ball made from concrete and wrapped in towels.

He sighed. The apprehension had eased but so had his hard-on. He could handle this. There was not a particle of indecision or hesitation about that woman. It was scary but, damn, he loved that about her… and he loved the rest of her too.

Compromises will have to be made.

He heard the toilet flush. It was time to deliver her toiletries kit.

Only now did he realize he still had his jacket on. He pulled it off and tossed it onto the bed with Sylvan’s. He tore off his T-shirt, cleared everything from his pockets and pulled off his pants and socks. He slipped his thong down and gave it a kick toward the hamper beside the dresser—three point shot.

Grabbing the toiletries kit, he turned to the bathroom just as Sylvan opened the door.

He stopped, stunned, his whole mind and body dedicated to absorbing the sight of her naked beauty, suspended in silhouette in the doorway. A naughty smile danced on her lips. She lifted her arms and grasped the frame. Lifting onto the balls of her feet, she brought one leg up to point at him. With a dancer’s grace, she swung it to the side, presenting her pussy lips, soft and bare and, oh so kissable.

He inhaled. His eyes journeyed to Sylvan’s. “Oh, Lady,” was all he could say.

She returned her foot to earth with a step toward him. “Thank you,” she said, as he handed her the toiletries kit. A pirouette. She placed the bag on the counter. A turn back to him. He studied each movement. She stepped toward him and slipped her arms under his, pulling his body full against her.

Before he could relax into her embrace, she released him and stepped back.

“Huí, you’re tense.” She gave him a pensive squint. Her breasts bounced ever so slightly as her back straightened. “You need to understand I’m not going to swoop in here and take over your home. I was teasing you about messing things up. You know I can find my way around a house ’cause I design these things. I was having fun showing off. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Shit. Nothing would be concealed from her. She put her open hand on his chest.

“I’ll not always ask if it’s okay to do one thing or another because I take it seriously when you say this is my home, too, but I’m not going to move your things around or ask you to fire Jan. This home is the same as your embrace, I feel your life around me in your home just as I feel your love around me in your arms.”

Whoa. Tears crept into his eyes. He didn’t know if they signaled relief or joy. A gentle smile filled her face and she lifted up to kiss him.

In a near-whisper she said, “Now, go back and take a moment to clear things off the bed. We can sort it out in the morning.” Even more quietly, “Put my toy bag on the nightstand then get your ass back in here. I’m going to be helpless in your hands for an evening.”

His mind overflowed, imagining what his hands might be asked to do.

It took a push of her hand to get him moving.

Things were still hazy as he put the jackets on the chair and plucked the bag of zucchini from its place. No time to investigate. Hoist the big bag to the floor. Turn down the covers. Check the thermostat. Four degrees warmer. Nightstand lights to glimmer. Overhead light off. What else?

When he returned to the bathroom, Sylvan was bent over placing her things on the floor in the shower, her legs spread just enough for the cleft of her ass to be deliciously open. She knew it… Lingering in her pose, her hand on the grab bar, she peeked at him.

As tempting as it was to step up and take her right there, he marshaled restraint and skimmed his fingertips over the curve of her ass. She dallied for another moment, then stood.

Turning, she slipped her hands under his arms, snuggled her breasts onto his chest and laid her head on his shoulder.

Tension drained from him, replaced by sensual comfort, with a sparkling fringe of expectant sex. He reached to turn on the water, returning her embrace for the moments it took to warm up.

For a blissful moment his body renewed its connection to hers.

He envied how her body so clearly conveyed the tangible expression of her love. how she used it to motivate his desire and arouse his fantasies. The simple sensation of her warm and supple skin on his held the promise of boundless pleasures to be shared.

Sylvan sighed and let him go, letting his mind return to the mission at hand. He reached for the wash clothes and escorted her into the shower. When he closed the door, she turned and sat on the bench away from the spray.

“Let me watch you wash yourself,” she said.

A little show…

He ducked under the water, stood and reached for the shampoo. He lathered his hair, stretching tall, then opened his stance and bent deeply to rinse.

“That’s nice,” Sylvan said, running her hand between his legs, twiddling his balls.

He swayed his ass until her hand fell away.

Her attention was having the expected effect as he lathered his washcloth and turned to her. He ran the washcloth over his face, under his arms. He placed one foot on the bench against her thigh and reached to wash his foot, working his way up his leg, watching her eyes follow his progress. At the top, he draped the washcloth over his thigh, massaged his balls with one hand and stroked his cock with the other.

A smirky smile crossed her face but her eyes were fixed on the goods.

He switched sides, ending in the same self-embrace.

He dropped the washcloth over the bar, then turned into the water, letting it splash onto his face and over him to rinse.

With a smile, he turned to her and opened his arms. She closed her eyes and rose. Lifting her arms around his neck, she laid her body against him. They danced in a tight two-step as he guided her under the warm water, turning and dipping until she was thoroughly wet.

He moved them from under the water. She didn’t let go until he grasped her waist and turned her to face the wall, lifting her hands to the bar. Guiding his expectant cock into the cleft of her ass, he reached for the shampoo and drizzled a stream onto her hair. He worked the shampoo in, massaging her scalp. With his cock fully engaged, he continued his handwork on her head, their bodies moving in subtle syncopation.

Hair task complete, he grasped her shoulders and pulled her firmly against his hard-on, anchoring her motion as he guided her under the water to rinse.

He turned her, gently lifting her face to his with a hand behind her neck. With the washcloth, he wiped the mascara and blush from her face, revealing a softer, simpler Sylvan. His hand still at the back of her neck, he kissed her wet lips. She returned his kiss and he imagined warm rain as they moved as one under the cascade.

“Keep your eyes closed,” he instructed, turning her toward the wall and lifting her arms. He lathered the washcloth and caressed each arm and her back. “Open your legs,” he whispered at her ear. Sylvan complied with a low hum.

He tossed the washcloth onto the bench and reached to refocus the spray onto her back. Then, with both hands, he worked to model the warmth, soft woman-clay of her body.

The water and lather softened his touch and smoothed his motion as he celebrated Sylvan’s body in his hands. He guided her to sway her back and spread her legs wider to open her ass even more. With one hand, he filled her cleft, his thumb at the dimple of her anus. With the other he reached around to attended to her pussy lips and her tender folds.

One hand in front, one behind, he massaged her from clit to anus. Sylvan dropped her head and moaned. He moved to lay his rigid cock in her cleft. His body shook from the thought that her pussy was right there, but he quelled the temptation and reached for her breasts. Luscious drops of pure woman. He lifted them in his palms, studied their shape, their mass, their pliancy in his hands. Her nipples swelled and grew firm.

His reverie was broken by the water getting noticeably cooler. They were draining the tank. Lifting her to stand, he moved her under the shower for a final rinse, using this as an excuse to give her nipples a gentle pinch. Sylvan shivered, voicing a soft groan.

One final moment to caress her pussy lips, full in his hands. She rocked her ass to encourage his attention but the water was getting colder. He bent and kissed the back of her neck, sending the water in the valley between them crashing to the floor.

She’s ready.

He reached to shut the water off, leaving the fall of water from their bodies sounding like spring rain.

“Close your eyes and hold the memory of the water; how it sounds and the way it splashes over you,” he murmured at her ear.

Holding her hand to lead the way, he guided Sylvan out of the shower. She stood on the mat while he lifted a towel from the rack. With gentle attention, he swept the soft terry over every part of her.

“Keep your eyes closed,” he reminded and guided her hands to the counter. His hand high at her back instructed her to bend deeply to present her ass so he could continue his work. He left her like that, ass open, memorizing the contours of her folds while he dried himself with the other towel.

The warmth of the shower had loosened his balls to hang low and free. They brushed against his legs as he moved. His cock had been hard nearly the whole time in the shower, now it was looser, a reassuring presence, multiplying the sensations.

He felt potent and strong, in charge, preparing for sex. He considered himself in the mirror, his image sharing the space with Sylvan, her head hanging loose, breasts suspended, full, the buds of her nipples near to bursting. His gaze dropped to the smooth, graceful curve of her ass and his cock grew firm, ready to explore the delights before him.

With his hands on Sylvan’s waist, he lifted her and guided her steps out of the bathroom to the end of the bed. “Now, I’m going to lay you down on the bed, face down and attend to your ass some more, then I’ll use every molecule of my being to fuck you. Keep your eyes closed.”

“Marv, Baby,” Sylvan purred. “Look in my toy bag for a small lavender vibe with a curve at the tip. I think you’ll figure out what to do with it once you have my bottom in your hands. Get the lube as well.”

With that, he helped her onto the bed to lie on her stomach. The sight of that succulent ass took his breath. His mind filled with the memory of laying her across his knee on the cruise and spanking that thing. He shivered. Now was not the time for that. Instead, he gently lifted each leg and spread them wide to reveal her bare pussy lips and the bronzy rosette of her anus in all their glory.

She knew he was staring. She reached back. With her fingertips, she opened her cleft even more and tipped her ass.

There was no doubt he was welcome to play back there.

Releasing herself, she lifted her arms over her head and heaved a great sigh, settling into the mattress.

It took another moment before he remembered what he was supposed to do. The lube was right there on top. Two fist-sized bottles. He chuckled to himself. She had plans. The little vibe was hiding under four larger brethren. Wow, the lady came prepared.

With tools in hand, he knelt on the bed between her legs. He spread his knees to free his cock and balls.

The thought of kneading Sylvan’s ass had never been far from his mind since the moment they parted in Miami. He would get an instant hard-on every time he thought of grasping her cheeks and opening her cleft, the daydream a perversely torturous pleasure.

He drew a breath. With his hands full on her cheeks, he spread her ass open.

The ripple of her anus unfurled into a bronzy flower, the dimple of her opening deepening as she relaxed. A bridge of supple skin separated her anus from the pink valley of her pussy, glistening with anticipation, outlined by the folds and furrows of her pussy lips, flowing toward her clit. Physical poetry.

With his fingertips, he relearned the texture of her skin, the warmth, how the invisible hair let his fingers glide, but the least pressure furrowed its surface. His research moved to deeper subjects, the muscles and sinews that shaped her curves in stillness and gave her grace in movement. Slow, strong motions that moved the muscles of her ass in massage also stretched her cleft, exposing her to his gaze.

His fingers kneaded her back, her ass, her hips and down her legs, until her body turned to putty in his hands.

After luxurious minutes of preparation, he grabbed a condom from his stash in the nightstand and slipped it onto his finger. He reached for the lube and formed a dollop on his fingertip. With his free hand, he opened the valley of her anus. Sylvan swayed her back to lift her ass.

He circled the lube into her outer ring, dribbled more onto his finger, swirled deeper. His motion drew the rings of her anus inward as they grasped his finger. One joint. He slowly pulled out. Back in. Out. In. Two joints. The tension eased as he worked. She was ready. He pulled out and a small, smooth opening remained.

Before it closed, he stripped off the condom, picked up the vibe and applied lube to the tip and shaft. He touched the tip to the dimple of her anus and slipped it in. With small steps, he went deeper, until the flange around the shaft kept it from going farther. He turned it on and a faint thrum ran up his finger as he rounded her rosette around her anus with his fingertip.

The little vibe became a telltale to his action. He squeezed Sylvan’s cheeks together to nearly conceal it, then opened them to display her dark target with an arrow at its center. Massaging her whole ass made the vibe pivot forward and back. Damn, that was the hottest thing he’d ever seen. Sylvan moaned in concert with his play. While the vibe did its magic, humming its song of joy, his hands played over his beautiful woman.

“Are you ready for me?” he asked.

Sylvan moaned and nodded her head.

He lifted her hips to help get her knees under her with her arms over her head, tits on the bed, the cheeks of her ass round and open. With a fingertip, he swiveled the little vibe around. In moments, Sylvan swayed more deeply and spread her knees wider.

His cock was ready, too. He found the lube and ran tracks along the length of his shaft, swirled it around. He steadied himself with one foot on the bed and one hand at her back. He guided his cock to her pussy and, with silent exaltation, pushed in.

Sylvan’s warmth engulfed him. He paused while the little vibe stirred strange, wonderful, sensations in the corona of his cock, amplifying his presence, seeming to increase his girth within her, expanding his connection to her body. Moving slowly to revel in the pleasure, he stroked deeper until the butt of the little vibe poked him in the mons.

He worked his cock, but as much as he wished, it wasn’t possible to go deep with the little vibe in her ass, so he slowly withdrew it, leaving a pink kiss in its wake.

Crabbing up onto the bed, he placed his feet at either side of her knees. Crouching, he directed his head to her entrance.

He ran his cock with long strokes, his hands on his knees to focus his rhythm, outward until his corona was at the cuff of her entrance, in until his balls pressed against her pussy lips.

Two weeks of anticipation reached a zenith as he watched his cock fucking her slowly, communicating his desire, his passion… and his love. No number of words, or smiles, or touches could express his feelings better than this.

He lifted to direct his head to her g-spot, pressing a moan from her with each penetration, affirming her feelings were the same as his.

The mountain of joy he was climbing to be sharing Sylvan’s body was bringing him to climax much faster than he wanted, even while the fire in his legs burned to consume his pleasure.

He took her one last time, then withdrew, backing off the bed to stand. With her ass up like that he couldn’t help but ponder her beauty, watching her pussy close into a sensual pout. “I need to see your face,” he said, his voice ragged and hoarse. Sylvan rolled onto her back and looked at him. She reached for him and he leaned down to kiss her, their tongues dancing a passionate tango.

“I love you, Marv,” said Sylvan, her hands wandering down his sides onto his thighs. “Where do you want me?”

“Here, on the edge, so I can look into your eyes and fuck you slowly.”

Sylvan wiggled toward the edge of the bed and lifted her legs. He bent and wedged his head between her knees. She dropped her calves onto his shoulders. With the strength of his back, he lifted her and pulled her to the edge in one motion. He folded her legs and stood in adoration as Sylvan brought her hands to her breasts, cupping them, brushing her nipples with her fingertips, a naughty smile spread across her face.

Leaning over, he reached for the lube and smoothed more onto his cock. He grasped her ankles, leveraged her legs over her and spread her wide. With his body, he directed his head to her entrance. He looked into her eyes. A smile brightened her face. A sigh escaped his lips as he pressed forward, slowly, slowly, feeling every ripple until her pussy became a blanket of glory wrapped around his cock. He moved deeper, stopped finally by his balls tight against the cleft of her ass.

“Oh, Baby. I feel so complete when I take you into me like this.”

The passion streaming between them made his cock stronger still as he worked, her pussy grasping and stroking his shaft.

Faster. A sweat broke out on his forehead. His breath matched the pace of his motion.

Sylvan moaned and closed her eyes, dropping her hands between her legs to cuddle her pussy lips around his shaft. In a few strokes she was breathing hard.

The sight of her breasts bounding with his rhythm and the sensation of her pussy massaging his cock took him to the point of no return. He looked into Sylvan’s face. She opened her eyes and he locked his eyes on hers.

“Come for me,” he breathed, sustaining his pace, powered by her cries of pleasure forced from her with each stroke.

She inhaled deeply, arched her back. Her eyes rolled back.

With that, he hit his peak, filling her with his cock, his lust, his love in a pulsing crescendo of release. Wave after wave of his orgasm washed over them, his entire body straining for release.

He stood there as the throes of his orgasm subsided, holding Sylvan’s legs spread wide, her body without tone, yet glowing, her breasts rising and falling with her breath, slow and even. His cock slipped from her and he lowered her legs to the side.

She curled into a fetal pose. Savoring the sight of her, he watched for a sacred minute, his heart exalting.

My Lady… laid across my bed.

Monday 01:17

 

He had moved Sylvan up onto the bed and under the covers. He had turned out the lights. He had spooned her and wrapped her in his arms. He had fallen asleep to the gentle breathing of his woman, peaceful in her slumber.

Now, he was awakened as she moved, rolling toward him. “Sorry to wake you,” she said in a hoarse whisper. She lifted her hand and placed it on his cheek. “My body missed you—as much as my heart. I love you.”

“Mmm. I feel whole again. I love you, too.”

“I need to pee and take my contacts out. Keep things warm for me.”

Sylvan crawled out of bed. He lay there, feeling how right it was to have Sylvan in his bed, watching her form cloaked in shadow. When he heard the toilet flush, he crawled out and worked to straighten the sheet and blanket. With the last flip, he saw Sylvan in the bathroom doorway framed in hazy silhouette from the nightlight, the light flowing around the dip of her waist and the flare of her hips. As she walked toward him, a glimmer flickered at the apex of her thighs.

He met her midway, slipped his arms around her. Her body was cool and soft and he pulled her close to feel every detail of her against him. His hand wandered to her ass and into her cleft as she melted into his embrace. She continued to lean into him, not melting, but rather, falling asleep. He helped her get back to bed and tucked the covers around her before continuing his journey.

There was no need to close the door. No need to be secretive, no need for privacy. He knelt to prevent splatters and guided his cock with his hand. Even this was different now. This was Sylvan’s cock, too. This was the means of their physical connection. She shared her pussy with him, he shared his cock with her, to form the bond between them.

He snatched a tissue and dabbed the last drop. He didn’t want to cause a cold surprise when he snuggled up to her ass. He headed back to bed. Sylvan lifted the covers and he crawled in to face her.

“I assumed that was your side of the bed,” she said.

“Yeah, that’s how I slept with Connie. I just never changed, even though I have to go around the bed to get to the bathroom. I wonder if that’s how it is for most couples. I take it that’s how you slept with Harold.”

Sylvan nodded and a sad look crossed her face. In a moment, it was gone and she smiled. “My body has a memory that was rekindled tonight. I woke up feeling secure, more complete, really. For a moment, it seemed I was at home with Harold beside me. Not that either, not Harold, but the essence of being comforted, of being safe and loved. It was a good feeling I’ve not had since Harold died."

It took a great deal of trust to say what she did and to be so trusted made him glow on the inside. He could see the sincerity in her eyes and smiled gently. Reaching out under the covers, he caressed his hand through the curve of her waist and pulled her into a kiss. She pressed her breasts against his chest as she returned his passion.

When they parted, he looked into the shadow of Sylvan’s eyes. “You complete me. My life is so much bigger than it was. My cock, too."

“Huí, Marv. You do have a nice one down there. And I’m very happy to share your life. This is going to be a great ride.”

Sylvan yawned and leaned in to kiss him once more, then rolled onto her side and scooted back against him. He reached over her and pulled her closer, his hand at her mons. As he slipped back toward sleep, his cock began to realize what was so close at hand.

Four in the morning was a familiar time for him. He often woke then and usually went back to sleep, but not always. At times, he would remember a dream, and in the time at the seam between dreaming and waking there’s an opportunity to look back into memory to retrieve the visions from the unconscious mind. In the remnants of the dream in his mind this morning he was handing a card of some sort to a white-robed woman standing in front of a fountain. There were many holes punched along the edge of his card and also a few printed circles that appeared yet to be punched. He knew Sylvan was at his side and they were holding hands. The woman before him took his card, punched out one of the circles and smiled. He was filled with joy and was turning to kiss Sylvan when the dream, and his memory, ended.

He pondered for a moment what that might mean. A while back, he had read an essay suggesting people should think of big life decisions as punch cards. There are only so many punches and they get used up whether one makes good decisions or bad ones. He was sure his unconscious was telling him that keeping Sylvan close was one of the best decisions he had ever made.

Sylvan was nestled against him, breathing softly into the back of his neck. With one arm over him and the other on his pillow, he could feel her body, supple against him from breasts to thighs. Was her body remembering her many years with Harold? How long would it be before she replaced Harold in the memory her body carried?

He didn’t think much about Connie and couldn’t tell if he had some kind of body memory about her. He must. Sylvan’s presence didn’t keep him awake and it didn’t seem they had trouble negotiating sleeping positions. It was so right and good having her close like this. He drifted back to slumber feeling the gentle motion of Sylvan’s breathing from her breasts against his back.

Five-thirty was another familiar time for him. He hadn’t set the alarm but he was awake just as the clock changed from five-twenty-nine, butt-to-butt with Sylvan this time, a glorious morning woody ready at hand. All he wanted to do was roll over and use it. Later. Hopefully. Sylvan was still on Mountain Time and it was early out there.

So as not to wake her, he just lay there, savoring the feeling of having her in his bed. He slipped into one of his perfect moments, no concerns, no demands, no reason to be anything except for himself… and Sylvan. They had a fabulous fuck last night. The physicality of it was incredible and it was erotic as hell to stick something into Sylvan’s ass. How did she discover she liked that stuff? But what was incredible was the feeling of union he had when they came together—a connection he hadn’t experienced on the cruise. Something different happened, something profound, something indescribably beautiful.

Sylvan moaned and moved.

“What time is it?” she asked in a low mumble. He rolled toward her, lifted the covers over her shoulders and spooned her into his embrace.

“Five-thirty… central,” he whispered in her ear as he laid his cock against her ass.

“You’re all up early,” Sylvan said and wiggled her ass into his lap. “Do morning P, while I’m still half asleep.”

An exaltation of larks took flight in his chest. She remembered. He rolled toward the nightstand to retrieve the lube, laid tracks on his cock, smoothed it with a fingertip. By the time he finished, he was ready. He rolled back. Sylvan reached behind to open her cleft. Guiding his head through her valley, he found her entrance and slipped in.

Paradise. His cock in her pussy made them one. She moaned with a low, throaty note, lifted her arms and pulled the covers over her head. He reached around and curved his fingers over her pussy lips to massage her clit. He moved with shallow strokes, focused on the feeling of his corona caressing her from the inside. Sylvan lay still as he moved—each stroke deep, with a languid motion suitable for a sleepy girl.

Sleepy girl! That thought got his attention. He had always thought of Sylvan as fully woman, mature and experienced, not as a girl with youthful body and naïve sexuality. But from this perspective he could not tell how old or how experienced she was, or, for that matter, who she was. He wondered what it was that brought a young Sylvan to mind. Was she like this forty years ago? Had she acted like this at some time and her body was communicating that to him?

It was easy to get lost in speculation so he returned his attention to the Sylvan he knew.

The only downside to morning P was he only had one hand available. He eased his fingers from around her pussy lips and reached for her breasts.

As he filled his hand with their delights, a low moan escaped her lips. The softness of her breasts contrasted perfectly with the firmness of her nipples. He gently massaged her breasts, first one, then the other, lifting them, embracing them. He played his fingers over her nipples, gently, always gently, to not cause a nip of pain. He moved his hand downward through the valley of her waist and onto the rise of her mons.

He liked this Sylvan, her body experienced with sharing pleasure, her mind vivacious and curious… and a good bit naughty. She knew how to be patient and go slow or to be eager and go fast. She knew the importance of loving for the present with hope for the future, nurturing the flame and banking it to keep it hot and vibrant. He liked that pretense diminished with age. Sex was intuitive for old lovers. He smiled to think they could be old lovers.

He shifted to feel more closely how the head of his cock caressed the ripples of her g-spot. He moved slowly to savor the way her pussy sheathed him.

Sylvan had begun to move in counterpoint.

Her head was still under the covers and buried in the pillow muffling the sound of her voice, yet the meaning was clear. “Fuck me, Baby. Fuck me,” she implored, swaying her back. He kicked up the pace and Sylvan moaned with pleasure in concert with their motion. Faster, hitting the perfect pace, bouncing her ass against his groin. He continued until she stiffened, inhaled deeply and came.

His hand on her mons, he held her close, concentrating on the pulsing of her pussy. When she grew calm, he continued with long, strong strokes until he reached his own climax, celebrating the connection his cock made between them.

They lay still, breathing deeply. Sylvan stretched. He ran his hand from her pussy lips to her breasts, caressing her womanliness. She rolled toward him and lifted her arms to present her body. She kept moving, threw a leg over him and wiggled her way to lie on top of him, resting her cheek on his shoulder. “I love morning P. You are such a stud. You on the magic penis pills?” she asked.

“Yeah. It feels so good to be able to get it up any time you want me.”

Sylvan lifted herself on her hands and lowered her lips to his. He closed his eyes and kissed her. He caressed her lips with the tip of his tongue as Sylvan pressed her mons and belly onto his and rocked her pelvis.

“When will the coffee be ready, my studly man?” she asked as she looked down at him.

All he could think of was the curvy mound of her bare ass laying right there on top of him. He smiled and brought his hands down on both cheeks at once. Smack. Sylvan bounced as her body reacted and fire flashed in her eyes. “In a minute, Minx. Keep your panties on… No. Wait. Keep them off.” He smirked at her and massaged her cheeks. “Damn, I love your ass.”

The fire in her eyes cooled but it was still hot enough to bore a hole right through him. “Ombers, Marv, that ass ain’t quite used to getting spanked, so be gentle or the lady might misunderstand.”

Uh, oh.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I don’t mean to take liberties. I’m not trying to hurt you. Y’know it’s in fun, but sexy, sexy, kinky fun.”

He put on his best conciliatory smile. Sylvan held herself with her nipples just grazing the hair on his chest. She looked at him, pondering her response. She wasn’t angry, but… “Ok, big boy. Liberties may be taken, but turnabout will be fair play so you had better be ready. And I don’t want to get spanked every time I walk by you. A little goes a long way, so let’s keep most of the kinky for the times when we can fuck ourselves silly with it, okay?”

“Done deal.” He breathed a sigh of relief, but he was tingling all over. “Please, do leave the panties off. I don’t think you have to worry much about privacy, we’re tucked back away from the neighbors and the street. The heat should be up by now, so less is definitely more.”

“So the most I can do is nothing at all?” Sylvan gave him an air-kiss.

Dawn brightened the window. Sylvan rolled off and went to crack the blinds open. She looked out, the light flooding in around her, caressing her with lucent fingers. He watched. Everything he saw her do would be for the first time. He had woken with a few other women in this bed, but nothing came close to this. This was now Sylvan’s home too, and it was already holding her in its morning embrace.

The view to the south was of pine trees and arborvitae with snow covering shrubs and grass. He loved the secluded nature of this place, but once on the street, he was mere moments away from everything he needed. He smiled, but remembered his mission and jumped out of bed.

It was tempting to just run naked to the kitchen, he’d been looking forward to being naked around Sylvan but this was not the eastern Caribbean and it wasn’t ninety-five degrees in the house. He stopped at his dresser and grabbed a stretchy lounge shirt. That should be just enough to keep the chill away but not so much to obstruct the view completely. He chuckled to himself over his vanity: actually, the cold would scrunch his cock and balls so tightly they might disappear altogether.

Sylvan was still looking out the window, her arms crossed above her head. He took one last look, sighed and went to the kitchen.

He checked the fridge to see what Jan may have stocked for breakfast: eggs, ham, red pepper, small red potatoes, seriously sharp cheddar and orange juice. He was going to make the world’s most loving frittata.

While the potatoes, ham and peppers were frying, he made up the coffee.

His coffee required a special procedure: fill the kettle to the mark and set it to heating, get the beans from the freezer, pour nine tenths of an ounce into the grinder, grind by hand, not too fast, not too slow, pour the grounds into the press pot. All he had to do was add sixteen ounces of one-ninety-five degree water and let it steep for five minutes for the smoothest, darkest, most luxurious coffee on earth.

In twenty minutes he had everything ready and put the frittata in the oven. He went to check on Sylvan. She had made the bed and had her large bag opened up on the spread. She was sorting through her clothes, making piles to put in the dresser. She had on a T-shirt with red flowers all across the front of it. And dancers’ leggings in a rust color. When she heard him in the doorway, she turned and smiled, then crossed her arms over her head, lifting the shirt.

Holy shit!

The leggings rose from her ankles to the tops of her thighs. The shirt dropped from her neck to her hips. In between was the barest, most delicious span of woman he had ever seen. Sylvan’s pussy lips were snuggled by the leggings, making them looked even more bare. He just stood and stared until Sylvan dropped her arms and came to him.

“Baby, take a breath and come back to earth. You can have heaven any time you want but you have to be alive to enjoy it.” She put her hand on his chest and lifted herself to plant a warm peck on his lips. Most of his brain had shut down so his visual memory could use all the cycles it needed to lock this bit of delight into his mind forever.

“Nice shirt,” he quipped as Sylvan returned to her unpacking, seeming to pay no attention to how the shirt lifted over the curve of her ass.

“A friend of mine,” she said, standing to place things in the dresser, “was trying out a new fabric printer so she made a couple of these. She wanted it to look like O’Keeffe’s Red Canna. I will have to tell her how much you loved it. Can I say it stopped you dead in your tracks?”

“Without a doubt. That was the most incredible event this bedroom has ever seen, except for last night. It’s still smiling.”

“How about this?” Sylvan turned and bent deeply, the shirt lifting across the cheeks of her ass, all the way to her waist. He took the few steps to her and put his hands at her waist and his cock at her cleft. His cock hadn’t recovered from morning P so he just wiggled it in place. Sylvan chuckled, wiggled back, then stood and turned to him. “Someone needs his rest. I need just a few more minutes to sort this out, then I’ll come for breakfast.” A pause and an eye roll with a grin. “I mean, I’ll be present in your kitchen. Did you prepare breakfast?”

“You’ll experience my ‘love-ttata’, filled with passion and pleasure, excitement and joy. And my Velvet Moon coffee. Don’t be late.” All he wanted to do was watch Sylvan in her sexy shirt and leggings. Instead, he wrapped her in his embrace, contemplating spending the rest of the morning exploring her body, but he had to leave something for later, and for tomorrow, and for the next day, and for ever.

“Mmmm,” was all he said and let her go. “I love you."

“I love you, too,” Sylvan said as she put her hand on his chest and gave him a gentle push. “Let’s save something for later,” she said. “My vag needs rest.”

He took one last look before heading to the kitchen. The frittata had a few minutes to go, so he prepared two places at the counter, poured large glasses of orange juice and dropped some bread into the toaster. The coffee was ready, so he pulled two mugs from the cabinet.

He grabbed a knife to check on the frittata. Hot air from the oven blasted him in the face as he opened the door. You’d think by now he’d avoid that… the frittata was perfect. Sylvan padded into the kitchen just as he was about to take it from the oven.

“Huí, Baby,” she said. “Remember the first day we met when you bent over to pick up that deck chaise? Your legs opened up and I could see everything hanging there all full of potential. Every bit of my woman’s body wanted to jump up and fuck with that thing. My, oh my. I’m glad my wish came true.”

The thought of making his own presentation of ass cheeks hadn’t even crossed his mind. A warm flush crawled up his neck as he turned and put the frittata down. Whether it was from the heat of the oven, the memory of their meeting or Sylvan’s naughty mouth he didn’t know, but he was happy her dreams had come true. He glanced up and Sylvan gave a squeak, reacting to the cold as she slid her bare buns onto the stool. He hoped the warmth of his smile would dispel the chill but her nipples grew into firm berries straining against the shirt anyway.

He could have stood there the rest of the morning, but the toast popped up to break the spell. He cut the frittata, slipped half onto her plate, slid the rest onto his. He dropped a slice of toast onto each plate, pushed the butter and jams closer to Sylvan, and dropped two more slices into the toaster.

“Listen, big guy. You’re a model of efficiency, but I can’t eat all this. We’ll have to contract a freight train to take me out of here.” Sylvan cut what he had given her in half and pushed part onto his plate. “Here.” Then she buttered her toast and slathered on a thick layer of blueberry jam.

A wave of satisfaction flooded over him. He felt as fulfilled as he had ever been in his life. He was feeding his woman and it felt right in every way. A warm glow of pride filled his chest. He walked behind her and kissed her neck, then slid onto the chair next to her as the toast popped up again. “I’ll probably say this too many times but I’m so glad you’re here. Feeding you is what this body was meant to do and it feels good in ways I can’t even describe.”

“You did a wonderful job,” Sylvan said as he distributed the fresh toast. “Your ‘love ttata’ is world class.” Sylvan paused and took another bite. “What do you usually do in the mornings?”