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A short story about a fridge and a passionate prelude.
I’m already smiling as I knock on your door.

"I wonder how you will react to what I have planned for you," I had said teasingly during the phone call earlier in the week, wanting your imagination to work overtime. "You should know me well by now, it's always a surprise, a good surprise."

You open the door and stand there smiling, a questioning look on your face. I show you the bottle of champagne, condensation covering the cold green glass in blisters of water. You follow me into the kitchen, I put it in the fridge with a wink, you frown, and I tell you it's for later.

As I close the fridge door, I give you a hug and crush my lips to yours. My tongue slips between your lips, and mmmm, I taste your strawberry lip gloss. As you respond, I turn you round and tilt you forwards so you have to put your hands on the fridge door to support yourself.

You start to protest but I step forward, one foot between yours, my hands on your waist, fingers just under your ribs. I move my hands slowly upwards, applying pressure to your body. I can feel the heat of you through the cotton of your shirt. I reach your breasts and roughly cup them, my breath is now hot on your neck as I nuzzle you and nip your ear lobe. My thumb and forefinger of each hand pinch your nipples gently, there is no trouble finding them as they are very obvious, very hard and standing proud. You still cannot take your hands of the fridge, for if you do, you will fall forward.

With my foot in between yours, I nudge your feet apart slightly, at the same time my left hand begins to unbutton your shirt and I can feel goose bumps as the air touches your skin. As I reach the last button, I pull the shirt out of your jeans. My right hand is still gently massaging your perfect breast, my hand gliding over the material, stopping to play with the hard nub of your nipple. I kiss the short hairs on the back of your neck, making swirls on your skin with the tip of my tongue.

I feel you quiver as my left hand pops the button of your jeans and travels further down to cup your sex through the silky material that separates them, the material feels damp but that does not surprise me, it’s the warmth from between your legs that feels so pleasant. I cup you hard with my hand, moving it slowly up and down. I can see your arms are shaking slightly and you are pushing your backside into me to stop yourself from slipping. I wonder if you can feel the growing hardness of my cock or have you started to tease me? I withdraw my hand from your jeans, turn you round and clasp you to me as if you were slipping away, my lips crush yours again urgently, my tongue invades your mouth, I want you so much...but not just yet .

I push the shirt off your shoulders, you straighten your arms and it floats to the floor and I kiss you again. You shiver as your back comes into contact with the cold metal of the fridge door and you involuntarily try to step forward, but I am there, crushing you back to the door. I feel your breasts on my chest through the material of your bra. I hear you moan as my hand ventures south once more, slowly exploring your navel and beyond. I feel you squirm in anticipation and my hand stops moving and feel your nails running down my back in anticipation of what I'll do next.

I hear you sigh as my hand comes into contact with the now very wet silky material. I need to touch you . My hand invades your underwear and I run a finger along the smooth edge of your lips and slowly part them. I hear you gasp, as my finger gently moves over your clit. You raise yourself on tip toes, trying to chase my finger which plunges back down, burying itself up to the knuckle in your moistness. I move back to your clit, circling it closely and rubbing it over the top increasing the speed as you writhe and gasp, seemingly impaled on my finger.

I realise with amusement that it's only my body holding you upright, pressing you against the fridge. I hear you take in a deep breath, released in little mewing sounds and ending with a jubilant, "Yes!"

I circle your waist with both arms to stop you falling. You throw both arms around my neck and nuzzle my chest and we remain like that for some time.

Eventually I open the fridge door and extract the now very chilled bottle. I pick up two glasses and ask with a smile, "Shall we go to bed?"

This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

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