There was a little sleet tinkling the back windowpane of my house, and I was worried. The weather forecast talked about it only for the early evening hours, but it could royally screw up my Thanksgiving plans. Most of all I was worried Sam couldn't make it: she lived far enough away and Lawrence is a hilly town. We had a tradition of the night before Thanksgiving with the anti-Turkey feast. I had meat loaf, whipped potatoes, and roasted Brussels sprouts and onions almost ready to go; Sam was bringing Spinach salad, sweet potato casserole, and dessert. A nice bottle of Beaujolais (an indulgence) was open, a fresh pitcher of slightly lemon iced tea (her favorite) was in the fridge, and I'd loaded our favorite playlist of Mozart.
Sam got back from her trip to the Mississippi Gulf Coast the day before, and I was dying to see her. I miss my friend when she's gone. No one else I know is as witty or bright and I had more in common with her than anybody I've ever known.. I enjoy my solitude, and she was my favorite way to break it. Sure, I would see my family the next day and she would see hers, but our friendship was family by choice.
Of course ten days before she'd reintroduced me to the glory of fellatio, and the revived beast was wondering when it would happen again. I'd even done a little research on how to repay the favor.
6:30 was already dark when she bustled in my front door. Her shoes were off less than ten seconds later and her coat in the hall closet before I could come out of the kitchen and meet her. A broad grin broke out on her face, and she leaped into my arms, much to my surprise. "I see you made it," I said after giving her a bear hug.
"Yup. Tough time getting across town, but I made it. Couldn't miss the anti-Turkey feast."
A basket on her arm held the goodies she was contributing, and they were on the table quickly. A push of a button on my iPhone and Wolfgang joined the conversation. "I bet the roads are getting really shitty."
"Tres sheet-tay as I would say. Had a dreadful time getting back yesterday."
"Was the weather bad?"
"No, it was just dreadful. The monsters struck out spectacularly with the flowers of the South, and their crabbiness never let up. Had to pull over and threaten to make them walk before they settled down."
"I've been on trips like that. Welcome to professorship." She got herself a glass of iced tea, I poured myself a glass of glorious red liquid, and we sat at the table. "Thanks God, it's all good!"
"Yeah, team. So anything happen here while I was gone?"
"Oh, same shit, different days. Your generation is going to drive me nuts: I've talked to more parents the past couple of days than in forty years of teaching. I should correct that. Your parents' generation is going to drive me nuts. Spoiled brats when they came to college twenty years ago, and are still spoiled brats."
Sam nodded. "Yeah, my parents are pretty damn spoiled. That's why I try to avoid them as much as I can. How are your girls doing as parents?"
"Oh, they're tyrants. Their rugrats say please and thank you to everything. In fact, Cody once told me, 'Pawpaw, you need to say please when you ask for that. We must have good manners.' Christ, the kid is five going on twenty five."
"Nice. Here's to being old school."
I got my dishes out of the oven and put them on the table. "Other than that, just trying to keep up with reading papers. Sent off an article on Lord Byron last week for the refereed journal. Stupid prick. He deserved to drown in Greece."
"Our field work went pretty well, but what it showed is sickening. They'll still feeling the effects of the Deepwater Horizon disaster. Stupid pricks, there's a movie coming out about that soon, isn't there?"
"Yeah, let's ignore it together. Let's eat."
"I'm starved." She gave me a sultry look and licked her lips, letting out a giggle when she saw my reaction. Sam never played fair. I wanted to embed my cock in that smirk, and she knew it.
We tucked into our meal at the kitchen table, since we weren't into the ceremony of the dining room. As usual, the food was great: Sam and I have some kitchen skills. She usually just ate a few bites of her food, but her appetite was better that night than usual. Her mood was giddy enough for me to think she was drinking wine as well.
After dinner, we hand washed the dishes, being traditionalists (and I not having a dishwasher.) I noticed as we left the kitchen, she was leading me into the dining room. It was dominated by a nice piece of furniture, a glorious dark wood table, with a lace tablecloth draped in a diagonally across it and two antique candlesticks flanking the center. I think she set it up that way a month ago when I wasn't looking.
She sat on the table, lighting the candles, then hopped down again. "Now for dessert. You will have the pleasure of a piece of my pie, and the first time deserves some dignity and class. I hope you're hungry."
It took her two seconds to take off her clothes. I turned out the lights, not worried what my neighbors on that side would see since they'd already left for the holidays. She was bathed in a soft glow, her legs dangling off the table and spread, with a huge, wicked smile on her face. "Let's see what you remember, before we begin the lesson."
My first move was to try to kiss her lips, but she pushed me away. Bending over, I took her pert little nipple in my mouth, licking around the areola and sucking the bud in and out. My reward was a gasp and a gentle hand on the back of my head. After a few moments, I switched to her other breast, savoring that sweetmeat. My back wouldn't let me do that for long, and I had to sit down facing the red tuft between her legs. I never thought Sam would dye her hair, and her carpet definitely matched the drapes.
