Her husband’s e-mail arrived in mid-afternoon that
Monday, full of the usual. Some help with an unfamiliar
UNIX command and chatter about work, dinner and the
odds that he’d get soaked by a passing shower on his
way home. The last paragraph, though, was what really
caught her attention. “I’ve been wondering how many
licks it takes to get to the center of an orgasm-pop.
;)”

Her dark brown eyes sparkled. It was about time, really
– she’d been bugging him to do something with her for
at least two or three days, but a big development
project at his job had been eating up all his time.
He’d been focusing on work, going in early, coming home
late, and forgetting to shave. And with his love of
open-air cycling commutes, that long blonde hair of his
was quickly tangling into proof that a white boy could
wind up with dreads like a Rastafarian, if he wasn’t
careful.

He made it home a little earlier than usual, and found
her hard at work as well, revising a website for one of
her clients on the Linux PC in her home office. She had
a few questions waiting for him – his Internet
experience went back half again as long as her six
years, and he could usually tell what needed fixing on
a web page without even seeing the source code.

Massaging her broad shoulders and twirling her locks
between his fingers, he answered the questions easily.
Two heads were better than one, and the pace picked up.
Even so, it was 9 pm. before they finished making code
changes, testing, eating dinner, running errands and
fending off distractions and found time to relax.

Tossing their clothes in piles on the old pine planks
of the bedroom floor, they sprawled onto the bed in the
darkness, and found a comfortable position for cuddling
– she with her knees drawn up, and he conforming to the
line of her back and legs, one arm around her, cupping
one of her small breasts in his hand. Even after their
eyes adjusted, his fair skin looked almost colorless in
the dim light, while her deep brown and red tones were
nearly lost in the shadows. As always, the contrast
intrigued her, as did the way the colors complemented
each other.

“Caress me?” she asked, after giving his hands a few
minutes to warm up under the covers, and he did. His
fingertips brushed against her the smooth brown skin of
her long dancer’s thighs, the gentle curves of her
torso, and the dark, resilient protrusions of her
nipples.

His roaming hands gently squeezed her rounded buttocks,
then slid slowly up her spine and over her shoulder-
blades, fingernails lightly scratching her. After
several minutes, he rolled her onto her back, straddled
her, and gave her a long hug. “Are you going to keep
your promise?” she inquired.

He smiled and kissed her – first on the mouth, then the
neck, then her shoulders, then each nipple, and a long
string of licks and kisses down her taut stomach, until
he reached the edge of her wavy, jet-black pubic hair.
Reaching under her, he cupped her bottom in his hands,
and pushed her further up the bed to make room for
himself.

“Hey!” she protested, “You moved me off the warm spot!”

They both laughed, and she settled back and spread her
legs. He lay between them, and kissed her vulva five or
ten times through the hair. “Do what you did last
time,” she said. “Kiss my thighs.”

Gladly, willingly, he did her bidding. A mixture of
feathery kisses, moist kisses, and light strokes with
the tip of his tongue gradually made its way back to
her mound, and the tip of his tongue probed curiously
between her labia.

“Too pointy,” she said, trying not to giggle. He spread
the dark lips gently with his forefingers and lightly
licked between them, the tip of his tongue gliding up
and over her clitoris.

After ten slow licks he paused, and began kissing her
thighs and caressing her once again. He resumed his
licking shortly, sometimes extending his tongue down as
far as her pale pink vaginal opening. His hands stroked
her thighs and her torso, and he made a slight vacuum
with his mouth, brushing his lower lip against her
clitoris in a series of kisses.

As he continued his efforts, he felt the muscles around
her clitoris beginning to tense with every touch of his
tongue, and her heartbeat and breathing quickened.
Carefully, he counted each lick. At the fortieth, he
stopped and began licking her slowly with the flat
center of his tongue, pressing gently against her
clitoris and labia. A few licks later, she began to
arch her back slightly, and her breath came haltingly.

Forty-eight… forty-nine… don’t move!” she gasped,
shoving her vulva against his tongue and lips as she
tensed and writhed slowly in the throes of a gentle,
but prolonged, climax. He struggled to comply,
delivering only pressure in return.

As her orgasm eased slightly, she asked for a little
more movement, and he massaged her clitoris with his
tongue, teasing the tip against the opening of her
vagina. She floated in orgasmic bliss, moaning quietly,
for several minutes. His tongue never left her
clitoris, only moving ever so slightly against it.

Finally, she had her fill of his oral affection.
“Enough,” she said, running her fingers through his
hair.

He gave her swollen clitoris a farewell kiss, and moved
up to embrace her. As her arms and legs wrapped around
his pale body, he suspected she wanted her fill of
something else. “Do you want more?” he teased with a
grin.

She could feel the his erection rubbing gently against
her vaginal opening. Kissing him deeply as he ran his
fingers through her locks, she pulled him closer with
her legs, sighed as she felt his hardness slide into
her, and let her body provide the answer.