New Year's Gift

*all characters are over the age of 30*

*****

The doorbell rang. He called out that he would get it. This was no surprise. He was the master of the house and the most social. It would be a safe assumption that he would be the one to go and welcome more guests into their quiet little party. As he approached the door he could not think of anyone that was missing. He looked at his watch and realized it was fairly late; they would be thinking about champagne and a count down soon. He opened the door.

It was her.

Although not expected at the party - or his home - it was the woman that was always welcome in this thoughts. His sweet treasure. His secret. HIS SECRET! His face ran the gamut of emotions from surprise to joy to alarm in a matter of seconds.

She put a finger to her lips and held out a notepad. It read: "Tell them it was a pizza delivery and that they had the wrong address. Meet me in the upstairs bathroom in 5 min." She watched him read it and then she brazenly stepped past him and ran up the front hall stairs.

He stood with the door in his hand, his mouth open, his body stunned with the number of emotions bombarding him at once. He recovered and closed the door. He glanced up at a now empty staircase. He looked again at his watch. He adjusted his pants. The key element surfaced in this brain: 5 minutes.

Returning to the party, he gave the provided excuse. It was accepted immediately and sponsored a round of discussion of the many changes to modern life: "Who orders pizza delivered anymore?". He nodded and tried to remain aware of the conversation around him while another part of his mind raced with this extraordinary development: His mistress was hiding upstairs in his house - his house where he was hosting visitors - less than an hour from the beginning of the New Year.

His mind had captured every detail of her standing on the front step and he reviewed the image now. Snowflakes had glinted on her blonde hair. Mischief had glinted in her eyes. She had been wearing make-up - she didn't often - and it had glittered as well. She had been wearing a coat. A dark, long coat - and boots that had disappeared under the hem. He easily returned the appropriate remark to the mundane comment his nearest party guest made.

It must have been more than 5 minutes he thought. He looked at his watch. It had only been 3.

Mind feverishly working, he did a small circuit of the room, filling glasses and grabbing a few empty dishes to give him a reason to head back to the kitchen. Emptying his hands - and then his glass of wine - he carefully made his way out the other door and down the short hall to the stairs. He gazed up them again for a moment, savouring the thought: She is up there.

He barely kept himself from taking the stairs two at a time.

The bathroom door: It was closed, with light coming from beneath. He reflexively looked around him to ensure the coast was clear - then knocked twice. He heard her voice: "Come in"

He stepped in, quickly shutting the door, then carefully locking it, then leaned against it... and looked at her. It was surreal: Her. Here. Now.

She was grinning from ear to ear. She was thriving on the intrigue. She was enjoying watching his responses. She was already aroused and ready for him.

She was perched on the counter, just to the side of sink, still wearing her boots and her coat. Before he could say anything, she quickly undid the buttons ... all of them... and let the coat fall off of her shoulders. She was naked under the coat.

He muttered a soft oath as her beautiful form was exposed. His body leapt in response and finished establishing the erection that he had been fighting to keep in partial form since he had opened the front door.

She spread her legs. He inhaled softly. She continued to grin.

She held out her arms out and he walked into them.

They kissed passionately, fueled by the danger, by the surprise. His hands roamed over her curves, her sensitive areas... she deftly undid the buttons of his shirt, his buckle and his pants...opening an accessible path from his throat to his groin.

She was already hot and wet for him. He was already hard. He teased her slightly with his fingers as he bent his head to suck on first one nipple, then the other. She moaned almost under her breath and leaned back so her head and shoulders were against the mirror. The mirror. His eyes sprang open to glimpse the scene from a different angle. He filed new ideas away for another time (another time! He was already picturing her return visit).

He knew her body. He knew how she would react. He had her groaning and begging in moments, fingers pressing all the right buttons at all the right angles. Harder.. Just a little harder and faster... she bit down on her lip hard to contain her cries as he pushed her over and caused a small fountain of liquid to gush out of her...down her thighs to be lost in the darkness of her coat.

Smiling up at him, floaty... happy...she scooted her body forward and reached to bring him to her opening, wrapping her leather booted legs around him to pull him closer. They both watched as he slid into her... then her head fell back as she revelled in the sensations. He continued to watch... as he pulled back, then pressed in again. Out...and in again.

She was expending effort to hold herself still and let him lead the rhythm. He could feel the tremors moving through her. He watched the blood flush down her skin as her arousal built once more.

Perfection would have been staying inside of her until midnight. Perfection would have been his first act of the New Year to be pushing her to the height of sexual pleasure that she was able to bear... and joining her in that sweet, sweet release. However life is rarely perfect and his absence at the centerpiece of the event would be too obvious; too difficult to explain. He closed his eyes and gave a short wish that the world was different than it was.

When he opened his eyes, he saw her looking back at him with eyes full of perfect understanding.

She kept their eyes locked as she brought her hands up to his face. She brought her mouth to his. She communicated her wishes, her hopes, her dreams...and her awareness of bitter reality...in a deep kiss. Then she began to rock against him.

He became like a man driven to succeed at an impossible task. He held her close and thrust up and into her with passion - throwing off the immediate bonds of reality for just this brief moment. He would take them both to a height that they would remember - at midnight and throughout the year. He took her - on this countertop - in his home - with wild abandon and focussed purpose.

In the end, she could not keep herself from screaming. She buried her mouth on his shoulder and cried out into his skin. He knew he made out his muffled name. He felt her body convulse inside and out. For him, time did stand still for a moment, as the sensation of release radiated out and affected him to the tips of this fingers and toes...to the tip of this nose...as his entire being vibrated - for her. For a perfect moment she clung to him as he stood completely buried in her. Perfectly joined.

She shuddered as she came down off the high. She slumped into him and he held her lovingly and whispered sweet things in her ear. When he knew she was almost back to normal, he apologized for her coat... and slowly pulled out. He laid her back against the mirror, and made quick work of the clean up - so far as he was able.

He regretted doing it, but he looked at his watch. Explanations would have to be made, but his absence would soon be forgotten as the countdown sounded and champagne was poured.

He looked back at her. His wonderful treasure. Blissed out on his bathroom counter. He couldn't think of anyone he wanted to end the year with more. And yet...duty called.

She smiled up at him and nodded. She understood. She reached her hand up and he caught it and brought it to his lips. He kissed down her arm, making her laugh softly, and then captured her mouth, pouring so much emotion and longing into the kiss that he took her breath away again and when he broke away, she lay back against the mirror.

"Go" she said. She knew he had to.

Such torture to leave her, but he must.

One last, quick kiss and he unlocked the door, exited and with a last look, pushed it closed softly. Outside the door he carefully ensured his buttons, belt and pants were closed, and took a long, deep breath. He grinned.

Returning to the party, he spun a tale involving red sauce being spilt and clothes needing to be changed (no one noticed he was wearing exactly the same thing). As he had suspected, a few moments later no one gave a thought to the time he had been missing from his own party, as they focussed on a New Year beginning.

A new year of possibilities. He lifted his glass to the many, many hopes and dreams and desires that he looked forward to exploring this year - many of them, if he had his way, hidden beneath long coats and in the arms of an adventurous, outrageous, insatiable blonde woman.

He wondered where she was at midnight.

He never saw her leave. He suspected that she slipped out the side door and then out the garage. He had kept the front hall in his peripheral vision, just in case. In fact, when he finally climbed upstairs, for a brief moment he entertained the thought of her waiting his his bed...but when the light came on, his bed stood as he had left it. Neat and tidy and empty.

Still, he had the memory to warm himself of when, as far as he was concerned, his New Year had begun.