Hunter Green Surprise

Jordan slipped quietly out of bed. It was much too early to wake Samantha, and he was going to do his best to go about his morning routine and catch his 6 a.m. train without her even knowing he was gone - short of the love note he'd leave rolled in the handle of her coffee mug.

He collected his charcoal-gray suit, a crisp white dress shirt, his cuff-links and a silk tie, then took a pair of argyle socks from the top bureau drawer and went downstairs. He would shower, shave and dress in the guest room; less chance of waking her there.

It had been torture leaving the warm bed on this dark morning. Sam's long, thin cotton T-shirt had gathered almost around her waist, and when Jordan rolled gently over, naked and spooning into her to kill the alarm on her night-table, he felt the heat of her soft ass nestle into his groin. But he slipped quickly from beneath the covers, yearning to relieve his growing erection yet aware that she needed her sleep more than the predawn mischief he had in mind.

Their sex life was exhilarating, a little unconventional, pushing their own boundaries within the safety of their love. They relished every session; teased each other in public with a stroked hand here, a daring word there. Their anticipation was fever-pitched by the time they got home. Sam would dip her tongue into Jordan's mouth, and Jordan would dip his cock into Sam, impaling her for their great, mutual pleasure.

He stood in the shower, the mist providing a welcome massage, and he smiled at the morning picture in his mind's eye - in fact, she wore to bed wearing one of his T-shirts, one that seemed to have found its way into her bureau months ago. He knew he'd never see it again, except on her.

Jordan tousled his dark, wavy hair dry, then began to thumb through the half-dozen pairs of his silk boxers that were on a chair in the corner. Sam had reminded him they were there, just before their sex-spent bodies yielded to a heavy sleep.

He liked the burgundy pair, and tossed them from his left hand to his right. As they passed in front of him he caught a curious, unmistakable scent - it was Sam. He drew the silk to his face and inhaled deeply. Sam's fragrant pussy filled his senses, and arousal overtook his curiosity in one deep breath.

He wondered: had he worn these boxers after lovemaking, and her scent had merely been transferred from him? So he picked up a hunter-green pair and brought them closer. Sam. Then the navy. Sam. And the blood red. Sam.

My God, Jordan thought. While I am at work, while Sam is in her home office downstairs, she is wearing MY silk boxers, and she is getting herself VERY aroused while doing so. He was euphoric; this was not a hint of her womanly scent that Jordan was inhaling. It was strong, powerful, a scent of pussy juice that flowed from her body freely, plentifully.

It was all Jordan could do to keep his hands off himself, and he hurried about the rest of his routine, ignoring his swollen ache as best he could as he pulled the perfumed boxers up over his thighs.

He would not leave a simple love note in the handle of Sam's mug this morning, but something else:

"Darling Sam - I've worn you to work today, your gorgeous scent wrapped around me. You turn me on completely. I'm in meetings all day, but home by 7. Please, be waiting for me in the den, lights low, wearing my hunter-green boxers and nothing else. I love you. Jordan xo"

The day was a blur, and Jordan's hand was shaking when he turned the key in the lock a few minutes past 7. The house was dark.

"Sam?"

"Up here, babe. As you asked."

Jordan slipped open the knot in his tie and shrugged out of his suit jacket as he climbed the stairs, leaving his brogues in the foyer. But before he stepped into the den, his palms damp, his pulse coursing through his veins, he heard her voice again.

"Stop, babe. Close your eyes. Then take six steps straight ahead. Slowly."

The only sound Jordan heard was his heart, pounding like a drum in his ears.

He shuffled one foot in front of the other, as she instructed, in six careful steps.

"Stop. Don't open your eyes."

He froze, feeling Sam's radiant heat inches away.

"Baby, I'm afraid I've been very naughty, wearing your silk boxers. But I can't help it that I love the way they feel, and I love more the fact that they hug the body of the man I adore. Now... give me your left hand."

Jordan extended his arm, and she took his hand, spreading open the fingers. She placed it on her ass, and rubbed it up and down her soft, silk-clad cheek. As she moved it up, he felt her bare skin. She was topless, as he wanted her.

"But I've had one problem, baby," she whispered to him. "I've never been able to fill them quite like you."

She moved his hand with a tantalizing slowness around her hip to just above the buttons of the fly, then down. Jordan felt like he had been hit by lightning.

"That is, until now. Open your eyes, baby."

His lids flickered open, and his eyes followed his arm down to his wrist, where he saw his fingers now wrapped around a thick latex cock, protruding from his... HER... hunter-green boxers. It was long and full and angry, and it bobbed when his hand fell free of it, in shock.

"Get naked, darling," she cooed at him. "I think it's time you wore a little of ME."