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She kissed me, at first sisterly, then with more passion. Soon our tongues were dueling for supremacy and our hands were seeking those more intimate of places. Then she broke away from me, stood and took me by the hand."Come on, I can't stand it anymore."When we got to her room, the bed was down, a couple of candles where on the dresser ready to be lit and like magic soft music started to play. She lit the candles and started to unbutton my shirt. I helped her and soon my shirt was on the floor. Then it was my turn, I unbuttoned her shirt, kissing her neck as I lowered it off her shoulders. She wasn't wearing a bra. Her nipples were like small pebbles, begging to be sucked. I bent over and took one in between my lips, then the other, a moan escaped her lips as my hands found the snap of her jeans.I lowered her jeans to the floor and helped her out of them, and then kneeling in front of her I hooked my fingers into the tops of her panties and pulled them off as well. I gently kissed. He knew that his mother would be staring at her watch, clicking her tongue and wagging her head in frustration, waiting for her oldest boy to show up for the traditional late-night family Christmas Eve dinner.Norman could taste her homemade bread pudding and feel her special once-a-year icing sliding down his throat, when a patch of snow-covered ice caused his 2004 Chevy Trail Blazer to drift off onto the shoulder, sliding impossibly towards the power pole on the right, into the ditch. Though he had traction control, the SUV never had a chance: ice is harder to please than dry pavement.Try as he might to avoid the crash, the pole grew larger, until he felt and then heard the meeting of old wood and new steel. Careening off the pole, Norman’s suddenly worthless SUV plowed a long ugly furrow in the deepening powder.Several thoughts fled across his mind as the car slewed to a stop. He was fine! No pain! No fuzziness! He was fine, just shocked and frustrated. Though the pole snapped, the.
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