Your fire Madam

“Brrrr,” I shivered as I stacked the last of the wood beside the fireplace. “It’s colder than a witch’s tit out there.”

Sam laughed. “If you don’t get me a fire started soon, I’ll show you a witch.”

I stacked wood on the grate. “I’m working on it,” I said.

“Work faster!”

I don’t know why she was so cold. It’s just the way she is. When I’m comfortable; she’s cold. When she’s comfortable; I’m sweating. We had the battle of the thermostat long ago. After a few days of being pissed at each other we struck an agreement. Each of us gets to set the thermostat every other week. It was my week.

I crumpled newspaper and shoved it under the grate. “Did you get the candles out?” I asked.

“One in every room.”

“Good.” I struck a match and held it to the paper. Soon it caught, the flames licking over the wood on the grate and setting it on fire. I placed the screen in front of the fireplace and stood up. I bowed to Sam with a sweep of my hand. “Your fire Madam.” Sam just giggled.

I went to the kitchen and retrieved my flashlight from the cupboard. I opened a bottle of wine and poured each of us a glass. I stuck the flashlight in my back pocket and picked up our glasses, carrying them into the living room. I handed one to Sam.

“Mmmm, thank you,” she said. She was reclining on the couch, wrapped in blankets.

I fished the flashlight out of my pocket and set it and my glass on the table beside the couch. The small logs had caught pretty well, so I removed the screen and added a couple of big logs to the fire. I turned the TV on to the evening news. I sat on the floor and lay back against the couch. Retrieving my wine, I sipped at it as I watched the news. Sam softly stroked my hair as she sipped at hers.

The weatherman came on. “Well folks, with six inches on the ground already and a possibility of another twelve inches in the next 24 hours we can officially classify this storm as a blizzard. Our high tomorrow will be 25 degrees and our low will be in the single digits. Thursday will see a warming..”

I tuned the rest of it out and stared at the fire. We weren’t going anywhere and were as prepared as we were going to be. I thought about going out and using the snowblower on the driveway so it wouldn’t be as bad come tomorrow but decided I didn’t really want to get cold again. The big logs had caught now and the fireplace was throwing out some heat. I sat my wine on the table and pulled my sweater over my head.

“How can you possibly be hot?” Sam asked.

“I just am,” I replied. I went over to the fireplace and took the poker. I stirred up the fire and added one more log then replaced the screen and poker. I kneeled down in front of the couch and kissed Sam. “It’ll be pretty warm in here in a bit.” I grabbed a pillow off of the end of the couch and lay down on the floor, staring into the fire. Soon I fell asleep.

I awakened when I felt Sam snuggling up to me on the floor. She had covered us with a blanket; her arm was around my waist hugging me tightly. I stared into the fire. The logs had just about burned out but the coals were still glowing red. The orange-yellow glow was the only light in the room. “Did the power go out?” I asked, my voice raspy from sleep.

“No honey, the fire was so pretty that I turned off the lights to watch it,” Sam answered me.

The fire had heated up the room a great deal and with the blanket on m e I was almost uncomfortable. I turned into Sam’s embrace, doubling the blanket on top of her at the same time. “I need to put some more logs on,” I told her.

“OK,” she said as she pecked me on the nose.

I rolled over and got to my knees. I removed the screen, placed two more logs on the grate and then pulled the screen back into place. I walked on my knees back to Sam and lay down beside her, face to face. A wisp of her brown hair hung in front of her emerald green eyes. I swept it back and tucked it behind her ear. Her eyes softly reflected the glow of the embers. I leaned forward slightly to kiss her soft lips and wondered, as I often did, why out of all the men she could have had she had chosen me. I stroked the soft skin of her cheek. “You are so lovely,” I murmured. Behind me I could hear the logs catching as they popped and crackled. My hand traced from her face to her shoulder and then across her back, my fingers lightly scratching her though her sweatshirt.

She let out a soft sigh in my ear and then sat up. She pulled her sweatshirt over her head and tossed it onto the couch. She shivered a little at the change of temperature and lay back into my arms, pulling the blanket over her. I wrapped her in my arms, offering my heat to warm her. My fingers lightly scratched her back and shoulders. The firelight played across her face, her contented smile letting me know that she was enjoying my ministrations. My hand slid under her bra and deftly twisted it to release the catch. Her straps fell to the side exposing more of her back to my fingers. I scratched were they had been, her skin slightly damper there.

Her hands stroked my chest and played with my nipples. One hand slid lower to my stomach, searching for the right spot. She found it when my stomach muscles twitched involuntarily and attacked it unmercifully, tickling me until I had to release my hold of her and fell to my back gasping for air. Sam slid her bra off her shoulders and down her arms. She threw it towards the couch then rolled on top of me. She kissed me gently, her lips like a feather on mine. I luxuriated in the feel of her on top of me, her soft skin against mine, the softness of her breasts pressed tightly against my chest. Her fingers played through my hair as she pressed her lips more tightly against mine. Her lips parted slightly and she ran the tip of her tongue along my lips, teasing me, inviting my lips to part and welcome her tongue into my mouth.

Her hand left my hair and soon I felt it sliding across my stomach. I bucked, thinking she was going to tickle me again. She broke our kiss and giggled, then I felt her fingers working at the button of my jeans. She brought her lips back to mine, our tongues met and fluttered against each other. I felt the button let go. Sam’s fingers fumbled for the tab of my zipper. She grasped it. I could feel the bump of each tooth letting go as she slowly drug it downward. Her hand cupped me through my underwear, massaging me gently. I opened my eyes to see hers sparkling above me. They laughed at me, and with me, as I grew in the palm of her hand. “Oh Sam,” I moaned into her mouth when her fingers slid under the elastic of my underwear. Her soft hand sent heavenly chills up my body as she lightly stroked me.

I broke our kiss and arched my back, turning both of us onto our sides. One of my hands softly stroked her flanks while the other cupped her chin, stroking her cheek. I stared into her eyes, losing myself inside them as I thought about the first time that I had ever met her.

—–

I was the start of college my freshman year. I stood on the walkway in the middle of the quadrangle trying to figure out which building hosted my first class. I saw her coming up the walkway and she took my breath away. She moved with such grace that she seemed to float up to me.

“Hi,” she said smiling at me.

“He, hello,” I stammered. She was so beautiful standing there and yet even though I can picture her clearly in my mind the only things that stand out were her soft caring smile and her eyes that captured my soul and swept me away. I stood there rooted in my spot, like a deer caught in headlights, unable to look away. Her eyes sparkled with mirth.

“You’re lost, aren’t you?” she asked laughing.

“Yes,” I said my eyes looking downward in shame.

“Hey, its OK, everyone gets lost around here at least once their freshman year.” I looked back up at her. She was holding out her hand. “Samantha Canfield,” she said, “but my friends call me Sam.” I took it in mine. It was so warm and soft. I wanted to bring it to my lips and kiss it. I shook it softly instead.

“Eric, Eric Masterson,” I said.

“Pleased to meet you Eric,” Sam said. “Where are you trying to go?”

I took out my schedule and showed it to her. “I have “Violence and Revolutionary Ideologies” right now.”

Sam laughed. “Oooh, a budding anarchist. I bet you could get extra credit if you storm Old Main and take over the president’s office,” she said with a giggle. She pointed across campus. “That’s the Soc-Psych building. Your class is in there.”

“Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it. See you around, Eric.” Sam turned and walked away. I watched her; emptiness filled me as she retreated. She looked back over her shoulder, stopped and turned back toward me laughing. “You better get to class!” she shouted, smiling at me.

I threw up a hand in acknowledgement, then turned and walked toward the building she had directed me to.

—–

“Earth to Eric,” Sam whispered softly in my ear. She smiled at me as my eyes focused back in on her. She had slid the elastic of my underwear below my balls and her soft hand was slowly gliding up and down my shaft. “Where were you?” she asked.

“The day we met,” I said. My hand stroked her breast softly, my fingers tracing wide circles around her nipples. I watched in fascination as they hardened in response.

“Mmmm, that feels nice,” she purred. She shivered. “I’m getting cold.”

I glanced back over my shoulder. The fire was dying down. “I need to add more wood.”

“OK.”

Sam released her grasp on me and I got to my knees. I removed the screen, poked the fire a bit, then added some more logs and set the screen back in place. When I turned around I saw that Sam had removed her sweatpants and panties. I stared at her naked beauty as I dropped my own pants and underwear to the floor and kicked them into a corner. I lay down beside her, propping myself on my elbow. I stared down into her eyes, my hand returning to softly stroke her breasts. Her eyes shut while she let the sensations flow through her. My hand slid slowly down her stomach to the soft dampness of her pubic hair. Her legs spread slightly as I cupped her sex, feeling her heat. I softly squeezed her there, then released, squeeze and release. “I adore you,” I whispered.

Her eyes fluttered open. She softly whispered back, “I know, that’s why I married you.”

I bent to her chest, softly caressing her nipple with my tongue. Sam whispered a moan and arched her back, pressing her breast tightly to my lips. I sucked the nipple between my lips, worried the tip with my tongue. Her legs parted further and my fingers traced the lips of her sex. I released her nipple planting small sucking kisses all around it. I kissed my way between her breasts, across her stomach. My tongue traced the edges of her navel and I could feel her stomach muscles rippling in response to the tickling sensation. I kissed further down, my tongue toying with her pubic hair. When I reached her slit I ran my tongue along the folds, savoring the glistening nectar that had escaped her lips. I slid down her body, ducking under her leg and kissing the lips of her sex. Sam parted her legs, resting them on my shoulders. My tongue traced her outer lips, teasing them open. My thumbs parted her, exposing her inner lips as I greedily lapped the juices from them. I heard her soft moans as her hips bucked gently, almost imperceptibly against my face. My tongue darted between her lips to flutter inside her. Her breathing became more rapid, her fingers stroked lightly through my hair.

I slid my tongue out of her and traced her lips again. I licked upward searching out her clit. Sam gasped as I slid over it. My tongue ran lazy circles around it and I slid two fingers slowly into her depths. Her hips arched and she groaned loudly as they slid into her fully. I pumped my fingers in and out slowly while I lapped around her clit. When I would feel her tensing I would back off slightly, keeping her climbing but denying a quick release. I slid my fingers fully inside her and waited, waited, then sucked her clit into my mouth. Her hips bucked wildly, searching for the last little stimulus needed to send her crashing into orgasm. I held her there, keeping the suction but not touching her clit, my fingers fully buried inside her. Her back was arched tightly; her hands fisted my hair as she held me tightly to her sex. I slowly slid my fingers out of her, her groan deep and needful. The walls of her sex clasped at my fingertips as I paused for a second more then plunged inside. My tongue fluttered against her clit at first then became more active as her convulsions deepened. Her head thrashed from side to side, her tongue traced her lips rapidly while Sam rode the peaks and valleys of her orgasm. When I felt her tremors slowing I released my suction on her clit, laying my head softly on her mound. Sam stroked my hair while she caught her breath.

She tugged my hair softly. I looked up at her. Her eyes glistened slightly. “Make love to me,” she whispered.

I got to my knees and nestled my cock between her lips. I slid slowly inside her, watching her eyes cloud with passion as I pressed forward until our hips merged. I ground against her then slowly retreated and slid back in. Her hands played with my chest, stroking my nipples to hardness as I slid in and out of her. She locked her hands around my head and pulled her lips up to mine. Her mouth parted and her tongue shot into mine, searching for my tongue, wrestling it into submission. She broke the kiss, gasping for breath. “Make me a baby,” she moaned into my ear. I felt her convulsing around me and the orgasm I thought was so far away poured through me as I came with her. I collapsed onto her. Holding her tightly I rolled over to my back, holding her to my chest.

“I love you,” I whispered, softly stroking her damp hair.

“I love you too,” she murmured into my chest.

I stared into the flames. It seemed like I was ungrateful, to ask for more when he had given me so much. It wasn’t for me, I could be happy with what I had. I wanted it for her. “Please God,” I thought, “give Sam her baby.” I could hear Sam’s soft, even breathing and I knew she was asleep. I stretched with my arm and snagged a corner of the blanket. I pulled it over and covered her. I thought about Sam, how happy she was when we decided to have a baby. I saw her disappointment each time her period came. Six months wasn’t a long time to be trying for a baby, but Sam was impatient. I drifted off to sleep then.

—–

I kissed my wife joyously. Smoothing back her sweat-dampened bangs from her eyes. She was a wreck. Tired and sweaty, her green eyes surrounded by red from the tears she had been crying. Miss. Rebecca Masterson suckled at her breast. Sam had never been more beautiful. “Thank you God!” I thought. I stared down at my daughter while she drank from her mother. Rebecca’s eyes fluttered open. Her little blue eyes stared at me, capturing my soul and sweeping me away. I adored her.