Friday, September 01, 2006

Peaches

(The following piece contains sexual situations featuring people old enough to be your grandparents. You have been warned :-)

“Old man, you so crazy,” Mary said laughing in that full-bodied way that she did when she was truly amused. Even as she was protesting the sudden “assault” she instinctively reached down and turned off the burners on the stove. She was just about to start cooking dinner when Micah had “attacked” her.

Micah smiled devilishly and pressed a little more tightly against Mary’s back. “Got that right, old woman,” he replied, the gravelly rumble of his voice low and husky and earnest. Micah had slipped behind his wife and seized her plump body in a full bear hug. He had nuzzled her neck and worked his crotch against her delightfully round and warm buttocks. He had brought his hands up around her belly and let them cup her full breasts with willful abandon.

Micah nuzzled Mary’s neck, letting the soft bristle of his unruly beard tickle her in that way that made her tingle from her head to her toes. He kissed his way up towards her ear, inhaling the potent mix of her own womanly musk mixed with the soft rosewater she liked so much, and began to hum softly.

Mary felt herself shudder and she closed her eyes. After all these decades, she thought, the old man still could make her melt like a schoolgirl with her first real crush. The grip of his rough, gentle, calloused, caressing hands on her breasts still made her whole body go flush and expectant.

Micah began to sing into her ear…”I really love your peaches, wanna shake your tree”…and they both laughed in that heady, amorous way that they had so many times since the first time they spotted each other across the room at that party so many years ago.

“You too old to be messin’ around like this, Micah Harris,” Mary said in mock-protest, a smile still on her lips and her eyes still closed.

“Ain’t never gon’ be that old, girl,” Micah replied in a husky whisper. “Not as long as I got you.” He nibbled at her earlobe and then began to sing once more, “…really love your peaches, wanna shake your tree…”

Mary sighed and snuggled back into her husband’s comforting, arousing embrace. “What brought this on, old man?” she said, finding her voice despite the breathlessness that she was experiencing. “You been watchin’ that porno channel again?”

“Don’ need no porno channel, woman!” Micah huffed in mock-indignation. “I got me a big ol’ fine gal like you to mess around with, I don’ need nothin’ but that to get me as hot and bothered as a sissy in a C.C. camp…”

Mary laughed heartily at the ancient reference. “You don’t even know what that means,” she teased.

“Know as much as I need to,” he said petulantly, “and that’s all that’s important to me right here and right now…”

Micah released his grasp and turned Mary around. “It ain’t the words that matter, after all now is it?” He put his arms around her waist and drew her close.

“No,” Mary agreed, “now that you mention it, it isn’t …”

And then they kissed…in the meaningful, passionate way that people of a certain age did…no tongues flailing wildly against her other but lips, full and warm, pressing, soft and then hard and then soft again, lips parted just so. They kissed as two people who had fallen in love at first glance still did decades after that first meeting. They kissed as two people sharing sweet, eternal, soul-satisfying energy together did.

“You so crazy, old man…” Mary sighed passionately, reaching up to stroke Micah’s face.

“Yep,” Micah agreed, taking her hand and leading her away from the stove, “still so crazy about you, gal…”

Mary, realizing where he was intending on taking her, resisted half-heartedly. “Micah Harris!” she said, half-aroused, half-scandalized, “We can’t be doing stuff like this in the middle of the day!”

“Stuff like what?” Micah said mischievously as he continued to lead her through the house towards their bedroom.

“You know very well what I’m talkin’ about, old man!” she snapped playfully. “We ain’t kids no more…we can’t be goin’ and…you know…in broad daylight…”

Micah stopped and took his wife’s face in his hands. “We can do anythin’ we want, Mary girl,” he said tenderly. “I love you…and you still make my old pecker hard as a rock…we old, gal, we ain’t dead…” Micah let his hands slip down and cup Mary’s soft behind. He ground his hips against hers, letting her feel the stiffness of his member beneath his trousers. “Don’t even need no Viagra when I got a fine gal like you to stoke my fire,” he said in heated triumph.

Mary felt herself go even warmer and she smiled shyly. “You gon’ be the death of me, Micah Harris…”

They kissed again, passionately, deeply, tenderly. And then they looked into each other’s eyes and smiled like they had smiled into each other’s eyes a million times before.

Mary took Micah’s hand and led him through the door of their bedroom.

Micah smiled and followed her eagerly. He began to hum again as he watched Mary start to unbutton her blouse. “…really love your peaches, wanna shake your tree…” he sang humidly as he unbuttoned his own shirt.

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