Thanks to Chargergirl for all her help
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Jeff stepped out of the bathroom and snapped his cell phone shut. His agent had called with exciting news. Miami, desperate to fill a void at quarterback, had enquired about flying Jeff in for an immediate workout.
Jeff's life had purpose once more. As he toweled his hair dry, he took mental inventory of the clothes back in his Calgary apartment. If the workout went well, he would have little need for wool sweaters and quilted goose-down coats. A first chance with the NFL, a second chance with Dawn, even cool, calm Jeff Kramer had trouble bottling his glee. Every aspect of his life was starting to fall into place; it was like playing Tetris with nothing but straight lines and square blocks.
A snort emanated from the lump of covers on the disheveled bed. A freckled arm stretched out from beneath the comforter.
"Sunshine." He whispered his pet name for Dawn, unwilling to wake her, if she was, indeed, asleep.
Dawn threw off the covers and rolled on her side, one arm resting on a shapely hip, the other rubbing sleep from her eyes. With their bodies entwined most of the night, rest had been elusive. A night without sleep seemed a fair exchange for the immeasurable pleasure he both gave and received.
"I have something to tell you." His announcement was chased by a yawn. Whether exhaustion or nerves caused the yawn, he couldn't tell. Jeff flopped on the bed, his large, clumsy body shifting the entire mattress.
Her balance disrupted, Dawn rolled off her hip and onto her back. Strands of long red hair blanketed her lovely face. Releasing an exaggerated exhalation, she blew a few of the strands aside. The rest she cleared with her fingers.
Jeff crawled on his belly, until the tip of his nose almost touched her freckled cheek.
She regarded him skeptically. "Are you going to tell me you love me? Because, it's kind of a foregone conclusion if you are. You proved it to me last night." As she giggled, her freckled cheeks glowed pink. "I think I lost count of how many times you proved it."
Jeff hadn't lost count. They had made love three times over the course of the night, each occasion culminating with a body-shuddering orgasm.
The blanket and comforter pooled in a twisted heap beside the bed. The dusty pink bed sheet, clenched beneath her arms, served to cover the swell of her breasts, the flare of her hips, and the tuft of fiery-orange hair between her beautifully shaped legs. Her coquettish smile forced his penis to swell beneath his body.
She giggled as he peeled the film of pink fabric from her body. "I swear, Jeff Kramer; do you ever get tired?"
His lips found her pink nipple, silencing her mock protest.
A sudden rap at the bedroom door separated the Kramer siblings.
"Sunshine, I'm heading to McDonalds for some breakfast. Do you want anything?"
Jeff returned to the nipple, quietly sucking while Dawn clumsily conversed with their father.
"I'll have, uh...I'll have a sausage biscuit, Daddy, with cheese." She looked down at Jeff, who nodded without relinquishing the nipple. "Get me more than one," she said. Jeff held up four fingers. "Get us---me---four."
"Four sausage and cheese biscuits?" Vince Kramer sounded confused, and for good reason, Dawn was a notoriously dainty eater. "Are you sure you can handle that much sausage?"
"Oh God, Yes," she hissed, stretching out the
S
.
"If you say so, Sunshine. I'll leave the sack on the kitchen counter."
Dawn cradled Jeff's head as he suckled. She permitted a moan to escape only after their father's van started up in the driveway.
McDonalds was a short trip down the street. Old Vinnie wouldn't be gone very long, eliminating any chance of foreplay.
Taking his place between her legs, Jeff started the excruciatingly slow process of inserting his penis into her warm, dewy tunnel. She opened up for him, spreading her legs as wide as she possibly could.
After bottoming out, Jeff pulled out, until all but the head of his penis remained within her quivering vagina. Her tunnel held the head, sucking, kissing. Advance and retreat, their bodies fell into a succession of almost-Circadian rhythms. Jeff stroked himself with her body, his erection aching for satisfaction. She must have felt the same wonderful ache because her face was a mask of agony. He would have thought her in pain had he not known her so well. She loved it, and she loved him, nothing else mattered.
Her breasts bobbed each time he thrust, the soft flesh rolling like the waves of the ocean. He longed to see the ocean, to feel the warm waves lapping at his feet. They would by a house near the beach--no, on the beach. When he napped on chartered flights to Buffalo, Chicago, New York City, he would dream about the house, the beach, and the woman he loved, who waited for him there.
He longed to touch her, to kiss her. Given more time, he would have knelt between her legs, to taste her juices once more. As it was, Jeff and Dawn had just enough time for a quiet quickie. They had perfected the quickie during their previous romantic relationship. As sibling lovers living at home, they often had no other choice.
The situation would be different in Miami. The home would be their own; what happened within its walls would be no one's business but their own. They could make love in the saltwater, on the sandy beach, or in the warmth of their own bedroom, in their own bed. They would do it slow, maybe for hours, without locking doors, or curtaining windows.
The first spurt came without warning, a sticky stream jetting deep within her body; the second and third spurts were announced by a tickle in his belly but felt no less powerful. Jeff declined to pull out, a decision Dawn seemed to support by wrapping her legs around him.
He wanted to remain on top, to maintain their perfect union as his pleasure valleyed, but she was so small and delicate; surely, she would smother. Rolling to his back, Jeff rested his shoulder beside Dawn's warm body.
She turned on her side and draped an arm over his chest. If Dawn feared the volatile cocktail that mixed within her body, she didn't show it. She nuzzled his tan skin with her freckly nose and inhaled his scent. She looked up at him and frowned. "You really need a shower."
She was probably right. Between the long plane ride, wedding rehearsal, and hours of blistering sex, he had accumulated quite a musk.
Jeff put his wrist to his nostrils and inhaled.
"See," Dawn said. "You smell like sweat and pussy."
But it's
your
pussy
, he wanted to argue. Instead, he swirled his finger in a spiral pattern across the creamy skin of her back. With a smirk, he announced, "I'll shower, but you're coming with me."
