And now, as he breathed your name, he looked at you, feeling the wealthiest man in the world. You lifted your head and he saw the glimmer of tears still rimming your eyes. All that wealth was in danger of being washed away. Taking you by the shoulder, he led you into his sitting room. He cupped your face in his hands and murmured to you:
"In each one of us there is an adult and a child," he smiled and added:" And the child in you is always in trouble."
You saw the truth in his words as this woman, this girl in front of him, crying your eyes out, looked more like a little girl playing dress-up in heels and your mother's gown. He excused himself for a second, he slipped into the kitchen and came back with a couple of glasses of white Saumur sparkling wine, a white serviette carefully placed over his arm. There was just the hint of a smile as you blinked through your tears as you sat down and raised the glass to your lips. You blinked away your tears and gave him a tentative smile.
“Silly man,” you reached up and gave him a little affectionate kiss on the cheek. He swept you into his arms as the mellow voice of a jazz singer played quietly across the room. Your chin tucked under his shoulder as you clung to him. then your steps faltered and you opened your lips to express yourself.
"You are lovely," he praised you.
"I couldn't be..it's you .......you make me feel so special......and yes, the dress - isn't it lovely?" you pirouetted in front of him, around the room, everyone gazing at you in your imagination.
A change came over you as you showed off your shiny red satin gown. You still couldn't get over how you looked; you'd never had a dress like this before. It was almost strapless -- just two thin strands across your smooth-skinned shoulders. You weren't even holding it up; that was taken care of by the stiff corset that actually produced something like a bosom. It had taken some persuading to get away with not wearing a shawl to cover up.
At least all the discussion over your decolletage -- not that anyone came right out and said that's what you were discussing, of course -- anyway, all that talk had kept them from saying anything about the slit that went from your ankles clear up to your hip. You twirled again, careful not to swing the slit open too wide. He looked up, smiling, knowing that this was the way to please a women, and you were right there on the cusp of beautiful womanhood.
"Yes," he said, spreading his hands across his lap. "The dress is lovely. Almost as lovely as the delightful creature inside it!"
In that dress you looked so stunning. You blushed, just a little, feeling so proud and yet quite shy. Your feelings about him were still rather confused; you'd become used to his jocularity and humorous turn of phrase, but now he seemed to be showing a different side. He seemed to be awkwardly moving from wit and repartee to flirtation and seduction; and this was the man that you usually thought of him more as a friend than a potential lover.
Well, you didn't have time to think about that now - the amorous man seemed all over you suddenly. He reached down and kissed you, gallantly took you arm and offered to escort you around the room in your own private dance. You danced across the floor and back, and by the time the first side of the album was done, you looked full of hope again.
Your eyes were bright, your cheeks were rosy, and when you stood up straight your chest swelled out of the low-cut gown. As you got accustomed to the high heels the curve of your ankle became more confident. When he stopped after the last song, you begged him ask the quartet to play more, clapping your hands in excitement.
It was somewhere in the middle of "Strange Fruit," with your supple body pressed close to his, that he bent down and kissed you. At first he just brushed your lips, a friendly, almost paternal kiss. You responded passionately though, closing your eyes and kissing him back. He held you closer, and your mouths opened and eroticism seemed to take over.
He broke the embrace first, stumbling back and looking away. He was confused by his own feelings. You were a friend, a close friend and no more ... but, he couldn't deny other feelings as well. You were beautiful, and he felt far more than friendship. You were confused, too, but not in the same way. You knew now, very clearly, that you loved him in a very special way. But you were so far away from him. How could you ever hope that he'd return your feelings?
Looking everywhere but at you, he groped behind him and found the back of his easy chair. He slumped into it, massaging his forehead with one strong hand. You turned to leave him alone, embarrassed and forlorn. He stopped you at the door with his voice.
"Wait, my lovely."
"What is there to wait for or explain?" you queried, returning to his side. He still found it difficult to look you in the eyes. You, you mind on your own feelings, misinterpreted his glance and was now more sure than ever that your love was completely one-sided. He continued to gaze at you though and you saw something as you returned the stare. It was something that made you feel, without being completely sure why, that he reciprocated your desires.
"Hey," you murmured softly, interrupting his pensive gaze, his false solemnity, "if you really feel that way, why do you look like that?"
You pointed to his lap. He looked down and quickly put both hands over his lap, trying to cover up a very obvious and very large faux-pas. Smiling at his embarrassment and blushing at your own observation you suddenly felt like a child again, inexperienced It was as if that kiss with him had been the most passionate you'd ever had; that tongue in your mouth like that. You licked your lips appreciatively in memory and he smiled at the lovely pinkness peeking out from between your fine lips.
You knew what was happening to him and the realisation that you were the cause made you feel warm all over. You were nervous, and almost a little ashamed, but you were determined not to let him slip away, back into meandering amusement and glib wit. You put a trembling hand on top of his and gently pressed down. He looked up, slightly stunned. Moving to him, you pressed your lips to his. This time you took the lead, opening your mouth to his and pressing your warm tongue winningly inside.
He sank back into the cushions of the chair but you pursued, sitting down on his knees and slipping your hand underneath his, to rest right on his lap. You felt him press up against your hand. Yes. He did feel that way about you. With you left hand you caressed his brow and neck. Growing more sure of yourself, you broke the kiss and slipped down to nuzzle his chest, pulling aside the top buttons of his shirt. He began to protest, weakly, but you silenced him by putting one finger to his lips.
"Shhhh. Don't say anything. And I need you. Let me show you how much."
Reaching down with your right hand you unzipped him, your fingers playing and massaging, watching his head fall back and his blank stare at the opposite wall.
"It's all right," you whispered into his ear." This is how things ought to be. How can we do anything wrong?"
The touch of your hand on him had made him weak. His body seemed unable or unwilling to act. It had been so long. He needed you -- but could he? Should he? Then he gasped as he felt a warm breath on him. He looked down, his eyes wide, gazing at your now kneeling form. You opened your mouth and took him inside. Your lips closed around him, and you began to move up and down.
"No," his mind said, "no, stop, we can't!" But out of his mouth came, "Yes please......do it!"
And you did. Your cheeks hollowed. He felt the pressure increase. You couldn't take all of him inside, but you kept rubbing the rest with your hand and soon he felt a boiling inside him. You pulled up and watched with fascination, your eyes locked on his, raising your hands and licking him clean with a smile. His mouth dropped open. Never before.
You rose slowly and turned away, calling over your shoulder in a sexy whisper. "Undress me, Sir?"
Undress you! His hands strayed to your gown and he loosed the satiny belt, which clung to you curvaceous form. You rolled over onto your back, your gown moving like a leaves on the branches in a gentle woodland breeze. And below the trees, the gentle hillocks of your breasts rose to meet his lips. He reached up and fumbled at your zipper, finally drawing it down to the small of your back. The sides of the red satin dress pulled away slightly, exposing the gentle curve of your spine. You slipped the two straps off your shoulders and turned around to face him. Ever so slowly you peeled the stiff corset of the dress away and lowered it. Your small breasts emerged, gentle rises on your smooth body. You slid your hands over yourself as the dress dropped to the floor.
The rosy crests stiffened heated by the intensity of his gaze. The stirrings of his caressing hands became progressively more adventurous, pushing the gown away from your flesh, leaving you exposed, like a woodland clearing. He rubbed light circles across your belly, depressing your flesh and then leaving his hand to lie across your chest. He continued up, gently pushing the silky camisole away as he went, and exposing the beauty, pausing as if to gaze in awe, before sliding a finger, a solitary explorer, causing the surrounding skin to swell slightly. Then his caress moved around and down, past your navel, and just to your waist.
He tested your reaction by continuing on past to the softness of your thighs, before bringing his hand back up and circling your chest again. He repeated this action several times until finally, his fingertips went just under the waistband of your panties lingering there, making small circles before tracing back up your belly to your chest. He was obviously wanting to go further, but he just wasn't sure how far you would let him go yet. You stood still, your face cupped in your hands, suddenly shy, yet making no attempt to protest his explorations. He was looking intently at your, his eyes wide open. Again, he traced his fingertips back down your belly, further down, exploring further, rubbing back and forth to each hipbone. Then....., slowly, he eased down, until....his fingers were now at the top of you. He eased his hand down a little further, and it was then you saw a slight look of surprise on his face. This look soon changed to one of wonder, as you opened your legs to allow him better access.
You both watched as his hand slid down over you, exploring your outer reaches, both lying there fixated, mouths hanging open, a warm glow of yearning travelled through your body to spread your slender haunches to satisfy him. He caressed your skin tenderly and gently circled your hips drawing his hand under your round form to draw you to him, like the most refreshing water from a shadowy well on a hot day in summer. He moved forward on his chair and pulled your hips to him. He fixed his eyes on the cotton print garment that you were wearing. They seemed to be a little tight and he could clearly make out the outline of your sex. He was getting a strange feeling looking at you, placing a hand against you and starting to massage, bringing pleasure, circling and pressing gently.
You stood stock still, one eye just barely opened, concealed by your hair. You watched as he teased you, wishing that he would take you right there and then. You felt his hand make contact between your legs and a little shiver of excitement trickled through your body. That touch was so very light and casual in the beginning. Then, the touch became aggressive and more deliberate, causing a dampness to appear, limbs trembling excitedly. With one hand he pulled at the waist band of your panties and held them up while he slid the other hand beneath them.
He reached up to peel off the cotton, like skinning a tender and oh so ripe peach. Undoing the snaps of your garters and then closing them again to hold up your dark stockings. Another dark game. You stepped out of the garment, as he put both hands on your behind and leaned forward. He felt himself drowning in your warm mulchy wetness as his husky murmurings sent rivulets of passion flowing from your sopping centre to trickle down against his humidity. Desire coursed through you as his hands explored your intimacy. You responded by spreading your legs apart to give him more freedom between your legs and a sort of unspoken permission to proceed. He found the moist slit with his finger and continued to give you pleasure, as you looked at him with detached amusement.
He brushed your hand over the soft, patch and found your moist centre with one finger. After inserting it slightly he began a circular motion with his thumb. Slowly, instinctively, you began to rotate your hips in a circular motion in response to his continuing massage, sensing that your stillness was serving no purpose other than to diminish your enjoyment of the experience. As he reciprocated the pleasure that you had given him, you began to sway above him. His tongue penetrated you and you grasped his shoulders for support. This was so good. Already, you felt shudders of pleasure. You looked down at him, his face buried in you, and closed your eyes in delight. His tongue touched you and you almost fell, toppling on your heels. He pulled you closer still to him, his hands kneading you. At last you felt a stirring begin deep inside you and all your muscles contracted at once. Your moans increased in volume as violent spasms wracked your body; you held tightly onto him as you went weak in the knees and fell onto him.
He lifted you off him and lowered you to the rug, gazing down in admiration at you. This was a woman before him, a tantalising woman in full flower who wanted him as much as he wanted you. He lay next to you and again you kissed, equally hungry for each other's lips and mouths and tongues. He caressed your the velvet skin of your breasts, your taut stomach, your silken legs. You were still recovering from previous enjoyment, but you kissed him back and opened yourself to his exploration. You were ready and he knew it as he moved between your legs. You spread yourself wide to him, stretched and exposed, a forest clearing shielded not at all by a sparse patch of gorse like pale hair. He waited at the entrance, pushing apart your thighs, like unresisting birch trees, pale on the dark rug, your forest floor. You looked up at him with the ghost of a smile and sighed as he pressed into you. He moved slowly, agonisingly slowly, and you felt every motion as he filled you. Tears of joy gathered at the corners of your eyes and you pressed your hands into his back, urging him on.
He felt pressure as you yielded under him, giving way to your mutual desires. As he withdrew, you felt abandoned, left with a deep, hollow longing. You moved your hips under him, pressing against his waist, and he answered with a thrust that forced a moan from deep within you. You moved together, adjusting your pace, delivering joy, your legs closed around him, your feet sliding along his brawny hips. He bent down and kissed you long and hard, no hesitation or regret, just pure desire. And still you moved together, plunging into new intensified sensation Your hands dug into his back as you pressed herself onto him, trying to take more and more, thrilling at every thrust, every move, your every nerve tingling. Still he remained inside you, pressing, withdrawing, pushing forward again. Instinctively you moved under him, rubbing against every sensitive point.
You cried your love to each other. You whispered. You sobbed. You moaned in delight as the passionate rhythm continued. His muscles ached and your body was bathed in a golden glow as your pleasure grew, speeding recklessly over the edge of desire, to plunge into the cool waters of satiated desire. You paused and he looked down at you quizzically. He smiled. You giggled, knowing how that phrase had struck a chord with your reckless sense of the absurd. You pushed him away, slipping from under him and looking down at his puzzled form.
"I don't want this to end just yet. I'm sure you don't want it to end either, so come on, follow me.......don't keep me waiting," you giggled as you slowly walked away, your hips undulating.
"Where to?" he queried.
"Where am I going? Well - to take a bath in those cool waters of satiated desire of course."
"You witch," he smiled and watched as you slid out of the room.
A little while later he followed your path and found a circular pool set into the floor. Warm water flowed the wall and into the pool. He stepped down into the pool, joining you there, delighted to find your upper body exposed by the fact the pool was only waist deep. He paused and observed you, and you smiled dreamily as he watched you. You beckoned and he waded towards you in the pool. When he reached you he took the piece of soap from your hand, breaking it in two and returning one half to you. Then he began to soap you, slowly and enticingly. His lathered hands slipped over your breasts, kneading the nipples between his thumb and forefinger. Your hands moved with slippery pleasure over his chest and shoulders. His head bent forward as his probing tongue touched yours, savouring your taste.
He squeezed the pleading mounds and sweetly tormented the thrusting peaks. His hands slid around your back and grasped your buttocks. As he fondled them, he pressed you snugly against his hardness. He caught your shoulders and pulled them beneath the surface to rinse away the soap. After he raised your upper torso above the water's surface, his tongue circled you and inflamed you further. His hands teased down your sides, over your hips and parted to go in separate directions. One hand caressed your backside as the other moved between your thighs to gently stroke the straining peak there. He could feel the tension building within that pleasure point. As he lavished warm moisture and delight on your nipples. Moving expertly, his finger entered the softness of your womanhood and all its mounting desire.
Your hands roved the smooth body before you. They played over the muscles across his chest and lining his shoulders. They roamed over and around his slim, flat stomach. Your fingertips playfully grazed his hips, then wandered to examine his firm bottom. His actions were stealing your senses and control. Your hands shifted to weave through his groin area.
You caressed his blood engorged shaft. Your hands ran up and down its length. It was so smooth and firm, so full of unfulfilled need. He lifted you and sat you on the edge of the pool. Your eyes met: you smiled, comprehending his desires and tingled with anticipation. He pushed you down onto the carpeted floor. You inhaled deeply to control the building suspense and you eagerness. You closed your eyes and allowed him free rein over you body and senses.
His gaze locked onto your sex, its fascinating appeal calling out to him. He explored you, reaching out to gently stimulate you. He smiled when you trembled at his stirring touch. A finger eased within your secret recess to find it moist and eager. Heady power and pleasure surged through him. His other hand wandered up and down your silky thighs. He passed his tongue over his lips, and his manhood responded. His finger moved upward to make blissful contact with you and he massaged until your hips undulated and you moaned unceasingly. His head bent forward and his tongue replaced his finger. He teased the sensitive peak with his teeth, giving you exquisite pleasure.
You groaned and your head thrashed against the carpet. Tension built within you. You wanted to relax, but couldn't. Your stomach muscles tightened in almost painful anticipation. Your flesh throbbed and pulsed as he continued his erotic attack on your senses. His tongue flicked and circled, sometimes slowly, sometime swiftly. His finger slipped within your body. Together it worked with his tongue to bring you a torturously sweet rapture. You cried out his name and arched your hips upward as the spasms rocked your body. He increased his endeavours to give you supreme pleasure. As soon as you settled, he climbed out of the water and hovered over you. Then he captured your lips and entered your slippery and responsive haven, thrusting gingerly, until you arched and matched his passion.
You lay quietly, listening to the slow, even breathing of the curly haired, green eyed man next to you. Occasionally, you touched his cool skin to reassure herself that he was really there for you. He stirred and reached out a heavy arm to pull you closer into him. You sighed contentedly as you laid your head on his hirsute chest, feeling the thicket of fine fur against your cheek. Imperceptibly his arm tightened and you nestled closer, whispering quiet words of endearment. You placed your fine fingers upon his face and his head turned to press a warm mouth and soft lips to your scented wrist. Your skin was smooth and warm. Even in his post-coital daze he was drawn to that place where your pulse drummed out a contented rhythm. His mouth closed hungrily over yours. His arm raised to sweep your silky hair back away from your face. He caressed your neck, your smooth womanly shoulders and his lips clung greedily to yours.
His eyes flickered open for an instant and he devoured your delightful visage. Soft night sounds and cool, whispering breezes finally persuaded your thickly lashed eyes to close. Stars shining up above in the blue-black sky reflected the twinkling passion of your deep desires. A mellow sliver of moonlight watched over them, a lonely guardian, protecting both in the magic hush of the darkness. And, in your reverie, you felt warm lips caress your bare shoulder and then his murmuring as you heard the sound of the syllables of that name, the name that he gave you. Yes, with every inhalation he breathed you. With every exhalation, you could hear that it was your name and your reality that he was breathing .
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