Finding Love in France

Part 21: Afterparty

They picked up after their date, making sure all the candles were out and leftover food put away. Then they washed the dishes together, per their usual routine.

"Tonight was wonderful, my darling. I cannot thank you enough. You have truly outdone yourself, James" as she kissed his cheek.

"I'd like to say let's do it again tomorrow, but we've got another week til the next market day, Doc." he laughed. "Would you settle for scrambled eggs and a swim?"

"Sounds divine..." she cooed. She stepped behind him and put her arms around him, pressing her lips to his back. She started to unfasten his tie.

He turned around with her arms still around him and kissed her. "Dr. Abrams, are you trying to get me out of my clothes again?"

"And if I am?" she nibbled his ear.

"Then all you have to do is ask, Doc..." as his eyes fluttered. He pulled his tie off and she began to unbutton his shirt. She was planting kisses down his neck and chest as she went. The feeling of her lips, plus the satin of her dress against his skin was overwhelming. He wrapped his arms around her, picked her up,  and sat her on the table. She wrapped her legs around him and was about to pull his shirt the rest of the way off, when he stopped her to avoid her getting stuck on the pins that were holding the sides in, accordion-style.

She laughed at the amount of extra fabric that unfurled from the shirt as he pulled the pins out. "So I am not the only one wearing their parent's clothing? Glad you did not injure yourself putting this together, James."

"It was either this or my stained uniform, Doc. And, yeah, not gonna lie, I stabbed myself a few times in the process..." he chuckled, then moaned as she got back to work kissing his chest.

She heard him internally voice his appreciation of the feeling of the dress against his skin and decided to keep it on for now. Her decision was confirmed as the right one when he started running his hands all over her body through the material, causing a delicious friction that made her shiver.

"You alright, Doc? Are you cold?" He had been kissing her neck.

"Perfect, my love." She groaned. He continued to devour her neck. She went for his fly.

"Mmm, Mils..." he was having a hard time forming sentences. "...Should we take this downstairs?"

"Do you feel like stopping long enough to get there?" as she pulled the hem of her dress up her thighs.

"Good point. God, you are beautiful..." he was rubbing her thighs. As she continued to raise the skirt of her dress, he realized she did not have anything on underneath. "That's so damn sexy, Mila..."

At this she couldn't stifle her laughter "Did you expect me to wear the hausfrau's bloomers?!" He stopped kissing her neck and looked at her.

He started laughing at the thought of how many of her, hell, how many of both of them would fit into the old fashioned bloomers that were in the house. They were both laughing so hard that Mila had tears streaming down her face. God, this felt good. He really needed this. He let her hear him when he thought to himself "This is the best I've felt in years. Thank you, Mila."

She calmed down enough to manage to say "You are most welcome, my love. Now tell me, James, shall I fetch the bloomers? Is that something you American boys like?" and started laughing hysterically again. This time, she was holding him as she was laughing, and savored the feeling of their laughter reverberating through her.

After they both calmed down, she had her head on his shoulder and saw something she hadn't noticed before. A small cluster of scars from injections and what appeared to be burns. These were not from the penicillin she had given him. She decided tonight was not the night for such questions and opted to start kissing his neck instead.

As she began kissing and nibbling his neck and shoulders, he found his arms tightly around her, relishing the texture of her dress against his skin. After a minute, he picked up where he had left off stroking her thighs as she caught her breath with each advancement of his fingers. Soon, she had unzipped his fly and was letting her fingers explore, too. His pants had slipped down his legs and pooled at his ankles. She pulled him towards her and wrapped her legs around him, moving her hips to meet his hand. She was on the edge and he had barely touched her yet.

"You think the table will hold?" he asked breathlessly.

"Do we care?" she laughed and pulled him into her.

They were rocking together on the table, his hands now kneading her outer thighs, while she held on to his ass for balance. She took one of his hands and put it to her chest. The feeling of her breast beneath the satin was almost too much. The friction was tremendous for her, while the sensory overload was driving him crazy. She arched back on the table and put his other hand on her chest. She was now holding his body in place with her legs and digging her hands into his shoulders to maximize the angle of entry. She was so close, her body was tensing in anticipation.

He looked down at her and smiled, thinking "what do you need right now, Mila? Whatever you want, name it..." He was so close he could barely think, let alone speak.

She moaned her answer "Harder, please, James! Harder!"

As he obliged, her body banged into the table, the sound of which only added to the frenzy.

She dug her fingers into his shoulders, cried out and started her crescendo, he yelled her name out until he was finished.

As they laid on the table together, she started giggling about the bloomers again until they were both in hysterics.