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Lara

By: Nick_Scipio



It had been a long day, and I was glad it was over. Since seven in the morning, I'd had a studio full of people for a photo shoot. It was for a popular and irreverent men's magazine, and all the models had been scantily clad. I suppose the readership of the magazine liked their women beautiful and dumb, because that's certainly what I'd dealt with all day. Working with fashion models may sound glamorous, but it's usually not. Most of them are either vapid or vacuously chatty.

My assistants Theresa and Steve were shutting down the studio lights and moving props out of the way while I hustled the last of the models and various other people out of the building. I couldn't wait to pour myself a cold drink and relax, although I knew I wouldn't have long before the magazine's art director called. We'd talk about the shoot, when he could see the proofs, and a host of other details.

I had just shut the outer door on the last of the crowd when the office phone rang. With a sigh, I resigned myself to dealing with the call.

"Mike Logan," I said, catching the phone on the fourth ring.

"Mike, old buddy, old pal. How the hell are ya?"

I furrowed my brow in concentration, trying to place the voice. It sure wasn't the men's magazine art director.

"You don't know who this is, do you?" the caller asked when my brain refused to cooperate.

"No," I said, rubbing my weary eyes. "Enlighten me."

"It's Terry."

Terry. I searched my memory, but drew a blank.

"C'mon, buddy."

"I'm sorry, Terry. It's been a long day."

"Terry Duggins, from NYU."

Finally, recognition blossomed in my overworked brain. "Terry! Of course. Sorry, man. It's been one of those days. Besides," I said, shaking my head, "it's been what… eight years?"

"Yeah, at least."

Terry was my roommate the first year I was at NYU. I was studying photography at the Tisch School of the Arts, and he wanted to be the next Stanley Kubrick. Terry's father was some big-shot financial type and had finally convinced him to transfer to Columbia to "pursue a real career." We'd kept in touch after Terry changed schools, but drifted apart a year or two after graduation.

I sat down in the office chair and swiveled to put my feet on the desk. "How ya been, man?"

We chatted for a few minutes, catching up. He was married and still living in the City. I was surprised to hear that he hadn't joined his father's firm after graduation. My respect for his old man grew when Terry told me his dad wouldn't give him a job until he'd proven himself at another firm. The Duggins name carried enough weight that he had no trouble finding a position. In the eight years since I'd talked to him, he'd swiftly moved up the corporate ladder, and had just accepted a position-based solely on his own accomplishments, he said proudly-with his father's firm.

I told him about my life during the intervening years. I was still single and doing what I enjoyed most, taking pictures of beautiful women. Terry told me he'd even seen my photos in last year's Swimsuit Issue. Yes, the models really were that beautiful. No, I didn't date the models. Yes, I did get to travel a lot. I didn't mention that most of the models were not the type of women I'd consider dating. Nor did I mention the hundreds of pounds of cameras and equipment I usually schlepped around on those "glamorous" trips. He had his little fantasy of what a fashion photographer's life was like, and I didn't want to break the spell with a cold dose of reality.

"Listen, buddy," he said. "Let me cut to the chase. I was having lunch with Dad and one of his clients yesterday, and the subject of this guy's youngest daughter came up. She's getting married in June, and the photographer got deported. I told them I was old college buds with you, and that you shot weddings all the time. So, I told 'em…"

"Terry," I said, interrupting him. "I haven't shot weddings in a long time." I didn't like shooting weddings, and I'd done it early in my career simply to pay the bills.

"It's like riding a bike, though. Right?"

No, I thought to myself, it's not. Working with fashion models may be trying at times, but if I didn't like the lighting or the angle was bad, I simply stopped for a moment and fixed things. Brides walking down the aisle were like silk-clad juggernauts. They didn't care if the lighting was bad or the angle was wrong.

"Terry, I'd love to help, but… I don't do weddings anymore."

"C'mon, buddy. Help me out here. How much would you charge this guy to shoot his daughter's wedding."

"Terry, I'm telling you, I don't do weddings."

"When I mentioned you, Reuben said he knew your name, and he wanted the best for his little girl. So… how much?"

I quickly realized I wasn't going to beg off, so I decided to try another tack. Back when I was shooting weddings, I usually charged a thousand dollars for a complete package. But that was when I was new to the business and hadn't established a name for myself. These days, the going rate for a good wedding photographer was probably somewhere between three and five thousand. I added a little to the top-end fee and then doubled it, hoping to put Terry's friend off with the price alone.

"Look, Terry, my time's really booked. But if you've got to tell this guy something, tell him I'll do it for fifteen grand." I expected Terry to sputter, maybe even gasp. I was hoping he'd simply tell me I was crazy and gracefully, or not so gracefully-I didn't care which-drop the idea.

"Sounds great!"

"Did you hear what I said, Terry?"

"Sure. Fifteen thousand. No problem. I'll tell Reuben."

"Terry, I don't even know when the wedding is. If I'm booked that week, then there's nothing I can do. Like I said, I don't do weddings."

"I dunno when it is, exactly. Sometime in early June. I'll tell ya what, let me give you Reuben's daughter's number. You got a pen?"

I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. I couldn't believe this was happening to me. The last thing I wanted to do was to shoot a wedding. He gave me the number and I reluctantly wrote it on a Post-it note.

"Her name's Lara. Lara Talbot."

"Right," I said, writing her name under the number. Something about the girl's name tickled the back of my brain, but I couldn't figure out what it was. I drew two lines under her last name and then it hit me. "What did you say her father's name was?"

"Reuben. Why?"

"Reuben Talbot?!" I asked.

"Yeah, why?"

"The Reuben Talbot? The guy who owns more of Manhattan than Donald Trump?"

"Well," Terry said. "The Donald doesn't own that much anymore."

"Terry!"

"Yeah, he's that Reuben Talbot."

"Christ, Terry! Why didn't you tell me it was Reuben Talbot's daughter?!"

"Would it have made a difference?"

"Hell yes, it would have."

"Why?" he asked.

I couldn't begin to explain to him the problems involved. Weddings are bad enough-if you screw up even the smallest thing, families get really bent out of shape. You usually only get one chance to get a shot, maybe two or three for the posed shots of the wedding party. But during my thankfully short career as a wedding photographer, I'd learned that rich weddings were the worst. Demanding parents, haughty participants, and spoiled children could quickly turn things into a fiasco.

"Trust me, Terry," I said. "It would've made a difference."

"Oh, well," he said, sounding indifferent. "I know you'll enjoy it. And it'll certainly be good for your business."

"I'm not in the business of shooting weddings, Terry."

"You'll have a blast, buddy. I think you'll like Lara. She's a real firecracker. Hey, buddy, I gotta go." I could hear another phone ringing in the background. "I'll tell Reuben to tell Lara to expect your call. It was great catching up with you. I'll see ya at the wedding."

Without even waiting for me to say goodbye, he hung up.

Super, I thought. Even fifteen thousand dollars couldn't make me enjoy the hell I was going to endure to shoot Lara Talbot's wedding. Of that, I was positive.

-----

For three days, I debated whether or not to call her. Unfortunately, I'd told Terry I would, and my professional ethics wouldn't let me avoid it. Finally, I sat down in my office and dialed her number. After the fourth ring, the answering machine picked up. I listened to the greeting-she actually had a pleasant voice-and was preparing to leave a noncommittal message when I heard a click.

"Hello? I'm here! Don't hang up."

I heard a beep as she turned off the machine. "I'd like to speak to Lara Talbot, please."

"This is Lara," she said, panting slightly.

"Ms. Talbot, this is Mike Logan. I'm a…"

"Oh, yeah," she said. "The photographer. Daddy said you'd call. I thought it was pretty cool when he told me he'd hired you. I mean, I didn't know you did weddings."

"I don't," I said simply. "And I don't even know if I can do yours. I've got a shoot scheduled in St. Maarten for the last week in June."

"Oh, that's no problem. The wedding's the 8th of June."

My heart sank. I still had one chance to get out of it. "Well, you see, I haven't shot a wedding in a long time. I only agreed, tentatively, as a favor for a friend." Some friend, I thought ruefully. "I'm a fashion photographer. Wouldn't a professional wedding photographer be more suited to your needs?" I fervently hoped she'd see the wisdom of getting someone else, and let me off the hook.

"This close to the wedding, all the best wedding photographers are already booked," she said.

Reluctantly, I had to agree with her.

"Besides," she said cheerfully, "My friend Ginny is a photography nut. She says you'd be perfect, that your composition and framing, whatever that means, are fantastic." Warming up to her flattery, she continued. "And she said your lighting and texture are exquisite."

"You'll have to thank your friend for me," I said, feeling my stomach knot up as I realized I wasn't going to get out of shooting the wedding.

"So, where do I send the check?"

"Hold on a second," I said. "We need to meet first and get some details ironed out. And you need to sign a contract."

"Sure. No problem. When?"

With a sigh, I flipped open my PDA and brought up my schedule.

-----

Theresa and Steve were on a local shoot, doing some background work for a layout, and I had the studio to myself. When we were doing a shoot, the place was always bustling with people and activity. On days when things were quiet, they were really quiet. My studio was one big converted warehouse, with ceilings high enough to hang lights and backdrops from, and enough space for three separate galleries. It wasn't as posh as some of the big studios in Midtown, but it was mine and mine alone.

Lara Talbot and her wedding planner were supposed to be in my office at three o'clock, and I was dreading the appointment.

Since I last talked to her, I'd had a chance to call one of my college classmates-one I kept up with better than Terry and I had-and asked her for some advice. She shot weddings professionally, and I wanted to ask her about the language for my contract, package and album prices, and a laundry list of other things.

Grace laughed richly when I told her about my predicament, but quickly sobered when she found out it was the Talbot-Rosenbaum wedding. She was both amazed and amused when she learned how much I was getting paid. It seems I might have overdone it a bit when I tried to shock Terry with the cost. She e-mailed me a copy of her contract, which I quickly modified to suit my own needs. She also sent me her current price list, but suggested I include a hefty number of things for free, since I was getting paid so handsomely.

When I asked Grace if she'd like to simply do the wedding in my stead, and pocket the entire fee, she told me she was booked that entire weekend with two weddings. She actually managed to sound sad about it. She did offer to do the albums for me at her wholesale cost, which would be a lifesaver. I took her out for dinner and drinks a few days later to show my appreciation. After meeting with her, I went home armed with a good overview of the current wedding photography business.

I'd even done some digging on Reuben Talbot, hoping to find out more about him, and anything about his daughter. Because of who he was, a quick search of the periodicals archive at the public library yielded a slew of information, most of it financial or business-related. I also managed to find photos of his first two daughters' weddings. They were published in, of course, The Post. They were mostly what I expected, lavish affairs attended by the City's upper crust. Not for the first time, I wondered what I'd gotten myself into.

Theresa and Steve had both snickered at all of my due diligence, but once again, my professional ethics wouldn't let me do a half-assed job. I might not want to shoot the wedding, but I was going to do a good job.

My reverie was interrupted when the door buzzer sounded. Ms. Talbot and her planner were right on time, and I went to admit them. When I opened the door, I was confronted by a completely unexpected sight: a popinjay. That's the only word that described the man standing in my studio doorway. He couldn't have been an inch taller than five and a half feet, with a dark complexion, bleached hair with orange tips, and a million-dollar smile. I don't shoot men's fashion, but I recognized one of this year's Jean-Paul Gaultier prêt à porter outfits. The problem I have with Gaultier as a designer is that he doesn't just break the rules, he smashes them to pieces and then grinds them underfoot until they're powder. I haven't met anyone who looks good in a Gaultier outfit, and I work with a lot of good-looking people.

I quickly recovered my wits and stepped aside, motioning for the popinjay to enter. He was followed by a slightly pudgy young woman whom I assumed to be Lara Talbot. The resemblance to her father was clear, if unflattering. I was just shutting the heavy security door when the two of them… squeaked… and the door stopped moving.

"Hey! Back that thing up."

The voice came from around the door. I jerked it open and a figure darted around it. At first, I thought it was some street person and started to tell them to get out. When she pulled off her hat and sunglasses, then stared at me defiantly, I had to suppress the urge to laugh.

"Were you trying to kill me with that thing?" she asked petulantly. "It must weigh a ton!" She put her hands on her hips and scowled at me. She looked like a little girl trying to convince me she was angry.

"Can I help you?" I asked, working to regain my composure.

"We have an appointment," said the popinjay.

I turned to look at him, and then regarded the Talbot woman. "I know you two do." Still smirking, I gazed coolly at the new girl. "But who are you?"

Her eyes widened and her nostrils flared.

"She's Ms. Talbot," the popinjay said, sounding scandalized.

I turned to regard the pudgy woman, confusion slowly replacing my amusement. "Then who are you?"

"My sister," the slim brunette said acerbically.

Finally, my self-control failed and I laughed out loud.

"What's so funny?" she demanded.

"You're Lara Talbot?" I asked, still chuckling.

She huffed and nodded.

"I thought she," I said, pointing to the other woman, "was you. And I thought you were a street person."

"A street person?!"

"We're here to see Mr. Logan, the photographer," the popinjay said, trying to salvage the situation.

"Right this way," I said, leading them toward my office and trying to reign in my chuckling. Unfortunately, I was having too much fun and decided to throw decorum to the wind. What could they do, fire me? "You should have made your appointment for noon. Mr. Logan's hardly ever drunk by noon." I snickered silently at their scandalized whispers. "But you're in luck."

"And why is that?" the popinjay asked sardonically.

"Because he actually took a bath two…" I ticked off numbers on my fingers. "No, three days ago."

I was still laughing when I led them into my office.

-----

The popinjay, as it turned out, was the very flustered Silvio DePasquale, professional wedding planner. Aside from being badly but expensively dressed, he was gay. And I mean over-the-top gay. I work with a lot of gay guys, and they've never bothered me. I was sure Silvio was harmless as well, but I was having fun tweaking him.

The other woman was only a little overweight, but probably headed for another twenty pounds in the next few years. She was Mrs. Cohen, née Judy Talbot, and she strongly resembled her father, including his dour expression.

The grouchy brunette was, of course, Lara Talbot. She was an attractive young woman with long brunette hair and a slim, athletic build. It took an effort of will to keep my eyes away from her high, firm breasts. But her most striking features were captivating ice-blue eyes, and she speared me with a penetrating gaze.

I tore my eyes away from her, and when I seated them in my office, they seemed to calm down a little.

"Can I get you something to drink?" I asked, trying to smooth some of the ruffled feathers. "We have bottled water, still or sparkling, and soft drinks. Or, if you prefer, I can get you something with a bit more kick."

They all asked for water. When I returned, they were whispering among themselves. I passed around the bottles and took a seat behind my desk.

"We're here to see Mike Logan," Silvio said.

I'd fully intended to become serious at this point, but at his effete arrogance, something inside me snapped. "You don't wanna see him," I said. "He's a drunk."

"He's a very talented photographer," Judy Cohen said testily.

I shook my head. "He's overrated. Most days, he can't tell one end of the camera from the other."

"Please tell your boss we're here to see him," Silvio demanded.

"You guys would be better off just dealing with me. I'm the only one around here who knows what's going on." I leaned back and put my feet on the desk.

Lara Talbot regarded me shrewdly and the beginning of a grin flashed across her face. She quickly suppressed it.

"Where is Mr. Logan?" Silvio asked forcefully.

"I really have no idea." I shrugged indifferently. "He likes to hang out at a massage parlor a couple of blocks from here. You should just deal with me." I held Lara's gaze and her expression softened a little as she realized how flustered I'd made Silvio and her sister.

"We're here to see Mr. Logan," Judy said.

I grinned at Lara and she finally smiled in reply.

"You're looking at him, Judy," Lara said calmly. "Isn't that right, Mr. Logan."

"Call me Mike," I said.

While Silvio and Judy grumbled about my little ruse, Lara's grin actually widened.

-----

One of the reasons I've always been a good photographer is that I set people at ease and make them feel comfortable. It's a talent I inherited from my grandfather, who never met a stranger.

I turned on the charm once everyone seemed to accept that I was indeed Mike Logan. Lara took no convincing at all. She quickly warmed to me, in spite of the misunderstanding at the door. I think she was enjoying watching me pique Silvio and her sister.

Eventually, Silvio became very friendly as well-once he finally decided I was who I said I was, that is. I could tell he was attracted to me, and I knew he must have been wondering if I were gay. A lot of guys in my line of work are gay. Not all of them, to be sure, but enough to make him wonder about me. I guess I'm an attractive guy, in my own way, to both men and women.

Judy Cohen was as dour as ever. Nothing I said or did seemed to satisfy her. I didn't worry about it much, since Lara seemed to be calling the shots.

I had put together a portfolio that included the best of the pictures from my early wedding photographer days, as well as some of the more artistic fashion photos I'd taken. I'd also typed up a basic "package" for the wedding, which included a number of albums and additional prints.


Lara



I showed them my portfolio, and while Lara and Judy looked through it, Silvio read over the contract. Grace had explained to me that it was fairly standard, but Silvio read through it with an attention to detail that made me rethink his level of experience. He was all business as he asked a few pointed questions, but seemed satisfied with my answers.

When Silvio wasn't asking me questions, I studied Lara Talbot. Unlike her sister, I couldn't see a trace of her father in her features. She looked like an everyday twenty-something from a wealthy family: very pretty, tanned, stylish make-up and hair, and a well-toned body.

During my early days in the fashion industry, I'd done "glamour" shots of a lot of young women like her. Not quite attractive enough, tall enough, thin enough, or whatever enough to be models, but they wanted to feel like one for the day. At the time, I hadn't enjoyed it all that much, but it paid the bills. And it got me out of shooting weddings full-time.

Finally, a fashion director at a major women's magazine saw my work and hired me to do a shoot for a Vivienne Tam layout. Both the director and the designer were happy with the results and I started getting regular jobs with the magazine. As my reputation grew, design houses and other magazines wanted me to shoot layouts for them as well, so I stopped doing weddings and glamour shoots altogether.

Unlike the women I'd done glamour shots for, Lara Talbot was attractive enough to be a model. Unfortunately, at 5'6", she wasn't tall enough. With her striking eyes she could have easily done head shots or cosmetic work. And her body… well, her body was superb.

As I was gazing at her, she looked up suddenly and made eye contact with me. With a smile, I tried to downplay the fact that I was staring at her. But she was a smart girl and realized I'd been admiring her. She surprised me by sitting up a bit straighter, taking a deep breath, and then holding it. Doing so pushed her shapely breasts up and out. I arched an inquisitive eyebrow at her, but she merely smiled and returned her eyes to my portfolio.

Silvio looked up a few moments later and we made eye contact. I smiled in what I hoped was a friendly but non-inviting manner. He gave me an interested look, but I shook my head minutely. With his expression, he asked, "Are you sure?" I nodded firmly and he sighed theatrically, then rolled his eyes and grinned at me. I merely tilted my head to the side and shrugged by way of apologizing.

After they looked at the portfolio and Silvio pronounced the contract satisfactory, we started talking about schedules. From her purse, Lara withdrew a PDA and Silvio produced one from somewhere within the Gaultier travesty he wore. I took out the stylus for my own PDA, and we discussed the details for dates, times, and locations: formal bride's photos (at my studio), informal couple photos (outdoors, at the Talbot's lake house in Cold Spring Harbor), wedding party photos (at the wedding site, Huntington Country Club), the reception (also at the Country Club), and then dates for viewing the proofs. It took us more than thirty minutes just to work everything out, but by the time we'd finished, we were all satisfied. Except for Judy Cohen, that is, and I don't think anything was going to satisfy her.

All we had left was for them to sign the contract and write me a check for the deposit. My friend Grace had suggested I ask for five thousand up front and bill them for the rest once they'd viewed the proofs. I was just about to have Lara sign the contract when she suggested I give them a tour of the studio. I could hardly say no, so we stood and walked out of my office.

I gave them the nickel tour, showing them all three galleries, both darkrooms, the dressing rooms, the whole nine yards. Finally, I showed them the "I love me" room, which had blow-ups of cover shots I'd done, photographs of me with famous designers and models, and some of the best examples of my work. I also had a big light table in there, as well as a couple of comfortable couches. I'd found it was a good place to highlight my work for prospective clients.

As soon as we walked into the room, I could tell they were impressed, even Judy. They all looked at the photos of me with famous people and I stepped forward to point out my favorites. I was standing between Silvio and Lara, just a little behind them, pointing to a photo of me and Stefano Gabbana, when I felt a hand on my crotch. The hand cupped my dick and squeezed gently. Silvio turned to me and smiled, and I diplomatically took a step back.

Once we'd looked at most of the pictures, I steered the three of them back to my office. Silvio hung back with me. I discretely leaned down and politely but firmly told him I was straight. He looked confused for a moment.

"I got the message in your office," he said, sotto voce.

"Just making sure," I said quietly.

"Whatever."

After that, Lara signed the contract and wrote me a check. We went over our list of dates and locations one final time, and they left. I still wasn't looking forward to shooting the wedding, but at least Silvio and Lara had their act together.

-----

With a few exceptions, wedding photography uses the same cameras that fashion photography does. I'm mostly a traditionalist, and use a variety of medium-format cameras. They're all manual focus, so they're mostly for posed shots. In addition to them, I use several professional 35mm auto-focus cameras for "quick work."

I had been looking at a new Canon SLR digital camera, and decided that now was the time to buy. Since it was an 11-megapixel professional-grade camera, it cost considerably more than I'd gotten from Lara Talbot for her deposit, but it was something I needed to buy anyway. I picked up several extra CompactFlash cards for the Canon, and ordered all the film I'd need for the wedding.

The first photo session with Lara was in two weeks, and then the countdown to the wedding began. Theresa and Steve teased me for being so serious about the wedding shoot, but it was my professional reputation on the line, so I treated it like I'd treat any other shoot. You don't get to be a sought-after photographer by doing sloppy work, I reminded them.

-----

I was going over the final details for Lara Talbot's bridal gown shoot when the door buzzer sounded. Since I'd only be dealing with one "model," I let Steve have the day off. Theresa finished setting the light diffusers while I went to answer the door.

When I opened the security door, Silvio fairly rushed through, holding a cup carrier full of coffee and leading two other people. Without pausing, he handed me a cup-it smelled like cappuccino-and stood aside to allow the others inside. I showed the make-up artist and hair stylist to the larger of the two dressing rooms.

"Thanks for the coffee," I said to Silvio as we watched the two women open their cases and set up.

"No problem, sweetie," he said. He looked at his watch and then took the lid off his coffee. "The dress should be here in about fifteen minutes." He took a sip and licked the foam from his upper lip. "And Lara is coming from the hair salon in about half an hour."

The dress arrived a little late, but close enough to Silvio's prediction that I was impressed by his organizational skills. Not surprisingly, the gown was a Vera Wang. I was a little surprised that not one, but three assistants came with it. When I saw the dress itself, I understood why. When you buy a one-of-a-kind $80,000 handmade Vera Wang wedding dress, they send a small army of people to make sure it fits perfectly.

Silvio explained that today's shoot was essentially a dry run for the actual wedding day. The florist was even sending over a duplicate of the bridal bouquet. If anything was unsatisfactory-hair, make-up, dress, or flowers-Silvio would have two weeks to remedy the problem.

Lara herself arrived a few minutes earlier than predicted, carrying a small overnight bag. I was duly impressed by her hair. It was done up in an elegant style that accentuated her face and graceful neck.

She came through the door followed by her mother, and I quickly realized where Lara got her good looks. After being introduced to Mrs. Miriam Talbot, I also realized where Judy had gotten her personality-Mrs. Talbot was the stereotypical discontented Jewish mother. Fortunately for me, she immediately headed for Silvio and the dressmakers.

Lara smiled at me warmly as I showed her to the dressing room. The assistant from the hair salon was simply there to fix any last minute problems, so she sat quietly on the couch on the other side of the room. Lara settled into one of the chairs and let the make-up artist get to work. I chatted with Lara for a few minutes, giving her a quick overview of how the session would go. Mrs. Talbot came into the dressing room a few minutes later and practically glared me out of the room. Good riddance, I thought to myself as I closed the door on the way out.

In the smaller dressing room, Silvio and the three dressmakers were fussing over the dress. I took a good look at it, thought about Lara's complexion and hair color, and went to choose a backdrop for the shoot. Theresa and I agreed that a mottled dark blue-grey would work best. The blue in the backdrop would make the white dress "pop," but it was muted enough by the grey that it wouldn't make Lara's skin look jaundiced.

When Mrs. Talbot emerged from the dressing room, she immediately came over to me and objected to the backdrop. Silvio joined in and took my side. She didn't like the dull color, she said. I patiently explained that the blue would make Lara's dress whiter. She wanted something more "alive," like a green backdrop. Green would make Lara's skin look red and blotchy, I explained. How about a nice dark red, she countered. Theresa tittered quietly behind me, and Mrs. Talbot silenced her with an icy stare. While I had several red backgrounds, I didn't recommend them. Red would give Lara's skin a greenish cast.

I tried to explain colors and color opposites to Mrs. Talbot, but I think she would have found fault with any of my backdrops. The matter was finally settled by Lara, who came out of the dressing room when she heard us arguing. She told her mother that I was the skilled and highly paid professional and that she liked the blue-grey. Mrs. Talbot closed her mouth abruptly and I tried to hide my astonishment. It would seem that Lara had inherited her father's personality, as well as his way of dealing with her mother. I was impressed.

After the row over the backdrop, the rest of the shoot went well. Once Lara had intervened, Mrs. Talbot seemed content to let me do my job. Silvio muttered about the "queen bitch" but was otherwise extremely helpful. He organized things with Lara, but let me run the shoot my way. To my surprise, I found that I liked working with him, and I once again revised my opinion of him up a few notches.

When we neared the end of the shoot, Silvio's cell phone started ringing. Before he had a chance to answer it, Lara's began to ring as well. Once she and Silvio were on the phone, Mrs. Talbot's phone rang, too. Theresa and I looked at each other helplessly as they all pressed cell phones to their ears.

After they all hung up, they had a hurried discussion. There was a problem with the caterers, and Silvio needed to take care of it. Mrs. Talbot wanted to go with him, and I could tell he wasn't very happy about it, but couldn't really tell her no. With Silvio and Mrs. Talbot gone, the shoot wrapped up quickly.

I wanted to give the new digital camera a try, so I asked Lara if she minded a few more shots. She didn't, so while Theresa was packaging the exposed film to send to the processing lab, I took out the Canon and hooked it up to my slaved flash system. I wanted to get some informal shots of Lara, so I had the dressmakers come in and adjust her bridal gown. While they did, I filled up two CompactFlash cards with pictures.

I told the make-up and hair people they could go, then the assistants from Vera Wang took Lara into the dressing room to remove the dress. Theresa wanted to leave early to pick up her kids from school, so I asked her to take the film to the lab on her way. As she was leaving, the dressmakers emerged with the bagged gown, and I showed them out.

When I returned to the dressing room, I found a weary but happy Lara Talbot. She was dressed in a silk robe that showed off her lithe figure, and I had a hard time keeping my eyes off her.

"So… did everyone else leave?" she asked.

I nodded and took the seat to her left. "That went surprisingly well," I said.

"Yeah. Sorry about Mom," she said. She turned toward me and crossed her legs. As she did, the hem of her robe rode up, showing me a healthy expanse of tanned thighs.

"It's no problem," I said.

"You handled her well," she said. "Most people would've backed down."

"I deal with a lot of people like her in the fashion world."

Lara arched an eyebrow.

"People who are used to being in control, and don't like it when someone doesn't immediately do their bidding."

"That's Mom all right," Lara said, and then laughed. When she did, her breasts brushed against the thin fabric of her robe, and my eyes were drawn to her stiff nipples.

It was hard to drag my thoughts back to the topic at hand, but I reluctantly did. "I like Silvio," I said. "Although I didn't at first."

She cocked her head to the side.

"When I first met him, he came across as a lightweight," I explained.

Lara grinned at me.

"Yeah, he is light in the loafers," I said with an answering grin. "But he really knows his business."

"I wouldn't be able to do all this without him," she said sincerely. She regarded me shrewdly and then her eyes flicked to my unadorned left ring finger. "You're not gay, are you?"

I shook my head firmly. "Not in the least bit."

"Does it bother you that Silvio is?"

"Not really. He got a little frisky at first, but once I set him straight, he's been all business."

"Frisky?"

I nodded, somewhat embarrassed that I'd mentioned it. "He was a little touchy-feely when we first met."

She looked at me curiously.

"He grabbed my crotch," I explained.

Lara laughed musically and leaned forward. "That wasn't him," she said. Then she gave me a hungry look. "That was me."

"You?"

She nodded. "I wanted to check out your package."

"And?" I shifted slightly as my dick began to swell.

"Very nice." She licked her lips, her eyes shining with lust.

"But what about your fiancé?"

"What about him?" she asked indifferently. "He's got this stupid idea in his head that he's not going to have sex with me until we're married."

"You mean you haven't…?"

"Of course I have. Just not since he proposed."

"Oh."

"Besides," she said, "Howie's not all that interested in sex. Not like I am." She practically purred.

"Then why're you marrying him?"

"Because he's a doctor, he's from the right family, and he's Jewish." She stood up and walked toward me, the robe parting as her legs moved, giving me delightful glimpses of her upper thighs. "But let's not talk about him."

"So… What would you like to talk about?" Like I didn't know.

She was standing close enough that I could smell her perfume and feel her body heat. I didn't know if this was a weird game or not, so I let her make the first move. She had no reservations about doing so, and put her hands on my thighs. When she started running them toward my crotch, I pulled her closer. As her hands closed over the growing bulge in my lap, I reached for the belt holding her robe closed.

"Oh, my," she said, pursing her lips. "What have we here?"

"Would you like to see?"

She gave me a sultry nod.

"Me first," I said.

I pulled the silk belt and the robe fell open, revealing her perfect body. Her stomach was flat from hours in the gym, and her breasts were soft, round swells-about a B-cup, I decided. Her long nipples were so hard that the reddish areolas had completely puckered, and I reached up to tweak them. She shimmied, and the robe slipped from her shoulders, leaving her clad only in white lace panties.

"My turn," she said, her hands returning to knead my growing erection.

I stood up, pushing the chair back as I did. Lara reached for my belt, and I let her open it for me. After she unfastened it, she quickly lowered my zipper. I was only semi-erect, but she gasped when she reached inside my shorts.

"Oh, my God. How big is this thing?" Far from being scared, she looked even more turned on.

"Why don't you take it out and see?"

She dropped to her knees and dragged my jeans and shorts down over my ass. When my cock bounced free, she actually gasped. She gripped me softly, lovingly, and began to stroke.

"How big does it get?" she asked.

I shrugged. "I've never measured it." In truth, I hadn't. But virtually every woman I'd been with since the tenth grade had. I began to get harder as Lara continued to stroke me. She seemed mesmerized by the sight of my growing cock.

"It's got to be nine inches," she said reverently.

"A little less," I admitted.

"Not much less."

I began to unbutton my shirt as she closed her lips around my glans. Then she opened wide and swallowed about half my length, caressing the underside with her tongue. When I reached full erection, she had to pull back a little because her mouth was too small. That didn't stop her from lavishing attention on me.

She wrapped her left hand around the base of my shaft and started pumping me as she sucked the first few inches. I pushed my pants down as far as I could, and then reached for her nipples. She moaned when I began tugging on them.

I straightened and removed my shirt, tossing it behind me blindly. When I pulled her off my dick, she actually groaned. I smiled to myself and helped her to her feet. I kicked off my shoes and then pushed my jeans and shorts the rest of the way down. Her hands automatically went to my dick as I stood back up, and I chuckled softly.

I pushed her toward the couch and quickly stripped off my socks as I followed behind her. I sat down and pulled her to me, putting my hands on her hips. I gently kissed the junction of her thighs and inhaled the scent of her arousal. When I leaned forward and softly kissed her lace-covered crotch, I discovered that her panties were practically drenched.

She moaned softly as I pulled the elastic of her waistband out and slowly lowered her panties. I kissed her again when I revealed her smooth-shaven pussy. Her labia were already puffy and turning pink, and I smiled to myself when she shuddered as the cool air bathed her sex.

I wanted to bury my face in her moist pussy, but she had other ideas. She pushed my head back and sank to her knees between my legs. I leaned back, scooted my hips forward, and simply enjoyed her rapt expression. A lot of women have been a little intimidated by my size, but Lara seemed to be excited by it. With wide, lust-glazed eyes, she hungrily studied my cock.

At last, she leaned forward, wrapped both hands around my girth, and kissed the tip. She could only take about half my length in her mouth, but she sucked and licked what she could get her lips around. Her fist pumped up and down, and she soon had me on the brink of orgasm.

I warned her that I was close to coming and she redoubled her pace. She locked her lips around the glans as the first spurt coated her tongue. She kept pumping me and swallowing, moaning as she did.

She caressed the head with soft licks and then began kissing down my shaft. For a few minutes, I let her smother my cock with kisses and soft nips. Finally, I pulled her up and had her lie on the couch.

I spread her legs and lowered my lips to her smooth pussy, licking and sucking her inner labia. She bucked her hips against me, and my cheeks were soon covered with her juices. I wrapped my lips around her clit and flicked it with my tongue, making her shudder.




Lara



"Oh, God," she gasped. "Fuck me."

I grinned and sucked gently on the little bundle of nerves under my tongue.

She quivered and put her hands on my head. "I want to come with your cock inside me."

I looked up her smooth stomach and teased her with my lower lip.

"Please fuck me," she begged. "Please."

I kissed her clit one final time and began to stand up. "Let me get a condom. I've got some in my office."

She quickly shook her head and looked at me with a wild expression. "I'm on the pill. Just fuck me." Her eyes dropped to my resurgent cock and she licked her lips.

I knelt between her spread legs and grasped my shaft, aiming it at her opening. She groaned when I moved the head over her slippery lips, teasing her. She humped her hips against me, trying to force my cock into her pussy. As I slid forward, she gasped and shut her eyes tightly. Her pussy was incredibly tight, so I started to pull back.

"Keep going," she said urgently. "I want to feel you inside me."

Her nostrils flared as I pushed forward again. I worked my cock back and forth in her channel, and soon had almost half my length inside her. She started pinching and rolling her nipples, and urged me on by bucking her hips against me. I pressed forward and sank another inch into her steamy depths.

It took a while, but I finally buried my entire cock in her pussy. I started thrusting slowly, my glans bumping against her cervix each time I bottomed out. Her breathing was rapid and shallow, and her skin was flushed, but she begged me to fuck her faster. I put my hands on her thighs and obliged her.

When I ground my hips against her pubic bone, she started coming. Her belly heaved and her pussy gripped me almost painfully. I pulled out once, then buried my cock to the root and stopped moving.

"Keep fucking me!" she screamed, raking her nails along my forearms. "Fuck me hard."

I pulled my hips back and slammed into her. She writhed against me as I pounded into her, her stomach rippling and quivering as she came. I felt my own orgasm building, and quickened my pace. Her smooth pussy lips pulled at me each time I withdrew, and then gripped me snugly as I thrust back into her. With a final grunt, I drove into her one last time and my cock swelled further. When she felt my come bathing her insides, Lara screamed and thrashed her head. She came again, wildly, and locked her legs around my back, holding me close.

"Oh, my God," she hoarsely whispered over and over, her eyes clamped shut.

I swallowed hard and licked my lips, enjoying the aftershocks as her pussy spasmed around my cock. We were panting from our exertions and covered with a sheen of sweat, but she smiled languidly as I idly rubbed her thighs.

-----

Afterward, we showered together in the dressing room bathroom. Her phone was ringing as we got out of the stall, and she rushed to answer it. It was Silvio, reporting on the catering problem. While she talked, I slowly stroked my cock, teasing her with it. She dropped to her knees, held the phone away from her mouth, and began licking and sucking the head.

She talked on the phone for about five minutes, taking her lips off my cock only long enough to answer Silvio's questions. When she was done, she flipped the phone closed and took as much of me in her mouth as she could. She bobbed her head back and forth for a few minutes and then pulled off me.

"I don't want to get all sweaty again," she said. "Just jerk off and I'll swallow when you come."

Despite what she said, she started playing with herself a few minutes later. While I stroked myself, she jammed her fingers in her pussy and frantically rubbed her clit. When I told her my climax was approaching, she locked her lips around the head of my cock. She came almost as soon as the first spurts of my semen washed over her tongue.

After we both recovered a little, I helped her to her feet and she grinned at me tiredly. I keep a small toiletries kit in my office and went to get it. When I returned, I was still tumescent, and Lara looked at my dick with undisguised lust.

"Can you get hard again?" she asked incredulously.

"Probably," I said, stroking myself with my free hand. "But I don't think I'll come again very quickly."

She whimpered softly and reached for me. She started stroking me, but as soon as I reached complete hardness, her phone rang. As she talked-to Judy-she leaned against the counter and pulled me between her legs. She rubbed the tip of my cock against her slit, spreading her moisture.

Lara kept right on talking as she hooked one leg around my ass and pulled me against her. I slid into her pussy a little easier, but she was still fairly tight. Her voice faltered when I sank into her, but she quickly made an excuse and kept talking. I started slowly thrusting into her, careful not to jar her lest she cry out.

"Oh, God," she said, after she hung up the phone. "You're so fucking big."

I grinned salaciously and nodded.

She merely closed her eyes and concentrated on the feeling of fullness in her pussy. I lifted her onto the counter and began thrusting a little quicker. When her phone rang again, she rolled her eyes, but I merely grinned and slowed my pace.

She flipped open her phone and put it to her ear. It was her fiancé. I sank into her completely and stopped moving, but she hastily gestured for me to continue. A flush spread over her chest and neck, and I could tell by the way her pussy gripped me that she was close to her release. But she patiently explained to "Howard" that she was still at the photographer's, and that "something had come up." She grinned at me and then explained to him that we were going over some last-minute details for the informal photo session.

When she got off the phone with him, she pulled me close and told me to fuck her hard and fast. She climaxed quickly and clutched at me as her orgasm washed over her. I was pumping away when her phone rang again. It was her mother, and I felt myself soften a little when I thought about the perpetually dissatisfied Mrs. Talbot. Instead of letting myself go soft, I concentrated on gently teasing Lara's pointed nipples.

The phone conversation was thankfully short. Lara spent most of it telling her mother that Silvio knew what he was doing, and she should let him do his job. She had barely closed the phone when she locked her ankles around my hips and started humping against me. I resumed thrusting, and felt my own orgasm welling up. Finally, I buried myself in her pussy and felt the first spurts of semen coursing up my shaft. I closed my eyes, gripped her hips, and held my cock inside her until my orgasm subsided.

"Howie probably won't even notice," Lara said, still panting, "when I don't try to get him to fuck me tonight."

I made a noncommittal noise and clenched my buttocks, enjoying the feel of her tight channel.

"I need to rinse off," she said. "I've got to meet Howie for dinner."

I pulled back and grinned at her.

She slapped my chest playfully. "I'm going to walk funny all day tomorrow," she said. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply. "But it was worth it."

She looked completely sated, and I nodded happily.

We stepped into the shower to rinse off, and while Lara dried her hair and applied fresh make-up, I picked up our clothes from the dressing room. We dressed quickly and I escorted her to the door. Her phone was ringing again as she got in her car. I turned off the last of the studio lights and tidied up the dressing room and my office. Afterward, I picked up Chinese takeout on the way to my apartment.

-----

The informal couple's photo session was scheduled for five days later. Howard had to be at the hospital by nine in the morning, and Lara wanted the photos taken right after sunrise, so I had a very early morning ahead of me.

I didn't know what to expect from Lara, and I really didn't know what I hoped for. She seemed to enjoy my dick, and I certainly enjoyed her tight and well-toned body, but she was practically a married woman. Also, it's hard to respect a guy when his fiancée is fucking you. It was a dangerous attitude for me to have, so I tightly controlled it.

Instead of worrying about what might happen with Lara, I concentrated on doing my job. I was still getting paid a lot of money to take pictures, and I wanted to do my best. I wasn't very enthusiastic about shooting the wedding itself, but I was gradually warming to the idea.

Silvio called the night before the early morning shoot. He wanted to make sure I had directions to the Talbot house. I finished packing my gear and loaded the Tahoe before I went home for the night. Since it would be a simple shoot, I hadn't asked either of my assistants to accompany me. I wouldn't really need them, because I planned to use 35mm and the Canon digital. With both types of camera, I could rapidly load new film myself.

By five in the morning, I was driving up the LIE toward Cold Spring Harbor. The drive took about an hour, since most of the traffic was headed into the City. The "lake house" was actually a three-thousand square-foot guest house, set about a half-mile from the main Talbot house. The lake was more of a large duck pond, but I could see why Lara wanted the pictures taken here-it was very picturesque.

When I pulled up to the house, I parked next to a black Mercedes with MD plates. Lara and Howie-Howard, I mentally admonished myself-came out of the house. He was my age, and dressed in a stylish shirt and jeans. Lara wore an attractive sleeveless dress and looked fantastic. She introduced me to Howard and I shook his hand, mentally sizing him up. He seemed like a nice enough guy, basically an average Jewish urologist from a wealthy Long Island family.

While we were talking about places to shoot, I opened the back of the Tahoe and took out one of my cameras. I wanted to take a look around the property before we got started, and it helped if I had a viewfinder to frame things. I knew I'd have good natural lighting, but I wanted to scout locations before the sun got too high. Lara offered to show me around while Howard waited for Silvio to arrive.

She was perfectly proper as she gave me a tour of the house and verdant grounds, and I suspected that the encounter at my studio was a one-shot deal. I was fine with that. After all, I had a job to do. Once I'd gotten a good look at the lake and surrounding area, Lara and I walked back toward the driveway.

When we returned, Silvio was just driving up. He got out of his car holding a cup carrier full of what I suspected were cappuccinos. He was also dressed in what I jokingly refer to as the Gay Man's Dating Uniform: black leather pants and a tight black short-sleeved shirt. He passed around coffee and then rolled his eyes at me tiredly.

We started shooting about fifteen minutes later, and things went smoothly. I had Lara and Howard pose together at five or six different spots around the lake. In an hour, I took sixty color and another forty-eight black and white photos.

By seven thirty, Howard was looking at his watch. I finished the last roll of color and he announced he had to leave. We walked back around to the driveway, where I shook his hand and Lara kissed him goodbye. Silvio was parked behind the Mercedes, and hastily said his goodbyes before getting into his car. He yawned, waved, and then headed back toward the main road. Howard didn't even wave as he backed out and followed Silvio's Acura.

Lara and I were left standing there, so I took out the Canon. "You want to get some digital shots of just you?" I asked her.

She shook her head and her eyes dropped to my crotch.

I arched an eyebrow at her.

When she licked her lips and started walking toward me, I put the cameras back in their travel bag and closed the back of the Tahoe. I turned around and Lara pressed herself against me, her hand automatically going to my crotch.

I quickly grew hard and she practically dragged me into the house. Once inside, we immediately headed for her bedroom, shedding clothes as we went. In the landing at the bottom of the stairs, she put her arms around my neck, held herself up, and wrapped her legs around my waist. She ground her pussy against my stomach, and I simply carried her the rest of the way up the stairs.

In her bedroom, I set her on the bed and spread her legs. I took a moment to admire her baby-smooth pussy, but she squirmed impatiently, so I lowered my mouth to her sex. Her labia were already plump and moist with lubrication, but I took my time, teasing her with my lips and tongue. She ran her fingers through my hair and impatiently pulled me against her. I smiled to myself and started licking the folds between her inner and outer lips.

She bucked her hips against my face when I circled her clit with my tongue, but I didn't touch it directly. I teased up under the hood for a moment, and she writhed beneath me. When I finally put my lips around the pearl of nerves, she hissed and clutched my head, firmly holding me in place.

I continued to tease and lick her clit, never touching it directly. She whimpered and began to tremble when I thrust two fingers into her pussy. When I started sucking her clit, she had a gasping, shuddering orgasm and then begged me to fuck her.

I knelt between her hips and slowly lubricated the head of my dick with her juices. She closed her eyes when I pushed forward and spread her open with my glans. I eased forward some more, and she moaned softly, arching her back in pleasure. As with the first time, it took some work to get my cock all the way inside her, but she finally took every last inch. When my pubic hair was pressed against her smooth pussy, she wrapped her legs around me and started rocking her hips.

I moved slowly at first, but as she grew accustomed to my girth, she urged me to fuck her harder and faster. She pulled her knees back and spread herself wide open for me. I eagerly obliged her, pounding into her smooth channel. Her flush deepened and I could tell she was close to her release. When she climaxed, I buried my cock inside her and felt my own floodgates burst.

Afterward, I was still very hard inside her, so I rolled onto my back, pulling her on top of me. She collapsed against my chest, and I ran my fingers along her spine. When she recovered enough to sit up, she was amazed that I was still hard. She took advantage of my erection and started slowly grinding her hips against my cock.

I knew I wasn't going to come again soon, so I played with her nipples, gently twisting and pulling them. I ran my hands down her flanks and felt her belly flutter with the first spasms of her climax. She arched her back and cried out as orgasmic pleasure suffused her senses. Her pussy gripped me firmly, and I felt a rush of moisture at the base of my cock.

She looked at me with hooded eyes and smiled drunkenly. I put my hands on her hips and started gently thrusting inside her, but she quickly put her hand on my stomach and stopped me.

"I can't," she said, panting. "I'm too sensitive down there."

I nodded and helped ease her off my erection. She closed her eyes and shuddered as my length slowly emerged from within her. Instead of lying down next to me, she curled up between my legs and reverently grasped my rigid manhood. She wrapped one hand around my shaft, and gently kneaded my balls with the other.

As Lara slowly cleaned our combined juices from my cock, she pumped her fist up and down, bringing me closer to orgasm. When she took the crown into her mouth, I felt the impending rush of my release. My muscles tensed, and then the first blast of semen shot from my cock. She sucked and swallowed as my seed gushed over her tongue. When my orgasm finally subsided, she crawled up my body and collapsed next to me.

-----

I must have dozed off, because when I opened my eyes, Lara was gone. I looked at the unfamiliar surroundings, and realized I hadn't been dreaming. When I sat up, I looked into beautiful ice-blue eyes as she walked into the room. She sat on the edge of the bed and then scooted toward me. From within a white paper deli bag, she pulled two cream cheese and lox bagels. When I saw them, I realized how famished I was.

Lara grinned at my hungry expression and handed me one of the bagels.

"Howie brought these," she said. "But we didn't get a chance to eat before you got here."

I stretched out on her rumpled bed and took a bite. She stretched out as well, and I took the opportunity to once again admire her graceful lines.

"So this is where you live?" I asked, looking at the nicely furnished room for the first time. Through a set of large French doors, I had a great view of the lake, but my eyes were drawn back to Lara's nude figure.

She nodded. "Yeah. Daddy didn't want me to get an apartment in the City, so I'm living here until after the wedding. Then I'm going to move into Howie's apartment."

"Where's that?"

"In the City. His family owns an apartment on the Upper East Side."

"Very posh," I said.

"Yeah."

"You mind if I ask what's going on between us?"

She cocked her head to the side.

"I mean, I enjoy this, don't get me wrong," I said, gesturing at her body. "But what's going on?"

She shrugged. "Howie doesn't really like sex. Even before he proposed to me, I was lucky to get it once every couple of weeks."

I sensed there was something else. "And?"

She actually blushed. "Well… Howie's just average."

"Average?"

She looked pointedly at my dick.

"Oh."

"He's a nice enough guy in most other ways. Like, he's rich, and pretty good looking, and he's a doctor. But he just doesn't get me hot. Not like you do, at least."

"Then why marry him?"

She looked a little shocked.

"I mean, I'm not asking you to run away with me or anything," I said hastily.

"I didn't think you were," she said. "'Why marry him?' Because he's rich, and pretty good looking, and he's a doctor."

It seemed obvious enough to her, but I wasn't convinced.

"I guess he'll make a good father too," she said.

"I guess."

"He will," she said with certainty.

"So what happens with me?"

"I was hoping you'd fuck me again, before I have to meet the florist. Maybe a couple of times."

"You know what I mean."

"Yeah. I'm not just gonna settle down with Howie, if that's what you're asking. I mean, I'm not marrying him because I love him."

"So you want to marry him and keep fucking me? Is that it?"

She reached for my flaccid penis and stroked it suggestively. "Something like that."

"I'm not looking to be a kept man."

"Who wants to keep you?" she said quickly. "I just want to fuck you."

"So I'm a boy toy?"

She squeezed my growing erection. "Hardly a boy."

"You know what I mean. I'm just gonna be a booty call?"

"Well, yeah. I mean, if that's okay with you."

"I'll think about it," I said with a smile.

"Let me give you a little incentive," she said, sliding down the bed and capturing the tip of my dick with her tongue.

We spent the rest of the morning licking, fucking, and sucking ourselves silly. We showered together, but had to rush because Lara had an appointment with the florist. I spent most of the drive back to the City trying to decide if I wanted to play fuck-toy for a poor little rich girl (who just happened to like big dicks, and could take all of mine).

-----

Due in large part to Silvio's organizational genius, the wedding went off without a hitch. Steve was with me for the wedding party shots, loading the camera and handling the off-camera flash, while Theresa circulated and captured more candid scenes with a 35mm camera. For the reception itself, we all used 35mm cameras and circulated among the guests. In all, we shot more than three thousand pictures during the wedding and reception.

The day after the wedding, Dr. and Mrs. Howard Rosenbaum went on a three-week honeymoon to Tahiti and Bora Bora. I went on my fashion shoot to St. Maarten and returned a week later, tanned but exhausted. When I got back to the studio, I learned that the Talbot and Rosenbaum families had ordered more than ten thousand dollars in additional picture packages and albums.




Lara



Author's note: this piece was suggested to me as a challenge as a straight woman to open my mind, any mistakes in it are completely my own. Thank You, Alan, for the idea. I would very much like to thank Hymir and angellove for their help with editing. I would also like to thank barby, Hymir and realmacdaddy for their help with the construction itself.

"So? Where's Mr. Train schedule man?" Sue asked.

"Probably still counting his receipts or tying his shoelaces," I responded.

Sue chuckled, "So he's history then?"

"Yep," I rolled my eyes. "What was I thinking?"

"Honey, you weren't thinking, or wasn't that the point?"

"Well he did have nice legs . . . "

Sue put her drink down to keep from sputtering. She joined me laughing over that one. I smiled to myself. He did have nice legs. Our waiter was long in coming with lunch so our gossip continued. 

"So this means you are free Saturday night?" she asked.

"Looks it," I said. "Unless you think our waiter is free . . . " 

Sue shook her head wryly. As if on cue the fourteen-year-old refugee from the mall dropped off our waters as he wandered off in what I could only hope was in search of our food.

"Saturday night, eight, and . . . ," she screwed me with her no nonsense look until she had my complete attention, "No jeans and those T-shirts that say, 'I would rather have my microscope'."

Grumbling, "Sure, whatever." I liked my T-shirt thank you very much. "And," I sighed. "Yes I'll bring the fudge," I offered before she could ask.

Rattling glasses was the only warning I had before Sue emitted an ear piercing squeal, and hugging me, "You're the best."

The meal was rather lackluster. Kind of like our waiter. "Isn't it against the law to hire those who still belong in diapers," I wondered.

Saturday came quickly, as it had been one of those crazy-hectic six day weeks that always seemed to happen right before Christmas. On my drive home, I checked the voice mails on my mobile that had collected during the day. A cheery voice threatened, "Eight o'clock, and oh don't be late. I still remember why your dad's twenty-year-old scotch went missing. See ye." Click. 

I had forgotten about the party. I groaned. I had not asked Sue just what kind of party she had planned. I groaned again. Sue liked to push the envelope with her parties. One year she actually staged a robbery. Right in the middle of prime rib, several men broke in with guns. After several tense moments and the sound of Velcro, they began to striptease. Hmm, good party, I remembered.

Thankfully the ride home was short, unusual for a Saturday. It was a bit of a rush job but I got the fudge going and slipped into the shower while it set. Thankfully my on-going chocolate addiction meant I always had ingredients for fudge in the house. Stepping out of the shower I browsed through my closet. Sue's digs about my wardrobe hit a little close to home. Feeling devilish, I grinned to my self as I dragged out my slacks. Sleek and black, they clung to my hips like leather, riding so low that my tattoo was visible. Deciding to mess with Sue's head a bit, (sometime I think she believed that my jeans and lab coat were fused to my skin), I grabbed some black gauze, thick but still transparent, I had left over from a previous sewing project. With a quick hem and the addition of a couple of silk ties, I had a simple top. I donned a lacy black bra, just barely visible through the screen and I was dressed to kill. 

I hated to leave my running shoes behind, as they were comfortable. I sighed as it looked like tonight I would miss my evening run. It was time to be bold, so I dragged my black heels out of the back of the closet. I slipped on the strappy, black velvet, two inch heels and made for the kitchen. 

The blinking on the clock showed I was running late, so without even bothering to cut the fudge I grabbed the pan and my keys and headed out the door. The drive was just long enough to make my palms clammy as I realized, "Yep, my bra really was visible through my shirt. Gulp. Well Sue had something in her closet I am sure, I could just nip in and grab." 

I was late. The noise from her house was audible even over the din of my Nine Inch Nails CD. A quick shake of my head to resettle my hair and in the door I walked. Her kitchen was empty. Quickly, I grabbed a knife and borrowed one of her plates arranging the fudge in bite size pieces. I grabbed a piece of fudge and started my dash for the back stairs to Sue's bedroom. 

The kitchen door slammed before I finished my getaway. In walked Sue and another woman, whom I thought perhaps vaguely I had met before. Chattering as she usually does, Sue directed the other woman, "Ok let me grab the punch. Can you grab the serving spoon and oh more napkins out of the closet right next…?" Sue's voice trailed off as she finally spied me. 

"Wow," she whistled, "hot damn!" She surveyed me like meat on a platter. I think I almost punched her right then and there. Noticing the fudge in my hand, she barked, "Hey save some of the fudge for the rest of us." 

"Sue, do you mind if . . . "

"No," she interrupted. "You are not raiding my closet. Get out there, girl."

Groaning, I appealed to the other woman, "She's crazy, you know."

Sue laughed. The woman smiled confidently, "Grab the napkins, will you, and the fudge while I help Sue find her spoon." 

Sue interrupted the woman telling her, "Better grab that fudge before she takes it in there, you know this crowd.'

A soft chuckle and the woman smiled. She grabbed a piece of fudge, her long fingers gracefully lifting one off the plate when I offered it to her. With my escape now firmly cut off, I gritted my teeth and firmly resolved to have a drink as soon as possible. Liquid courage would have to do when there was none other to be had. So sliding out Sue's kitchen door, a smile plastered on my face and the plate of fudge blandished high, I entered the living room. 

In the corner was a lovely buffet table already filled with many dessert options. Looking for an open spot, I moved over to place the plate down. "Hmm, now where was the bar?" Ahh, there it was right behind the gentleman with the pipe in his pocket. Smiling, I asked him, "What's looking good tonight?" 

He mentioned the scotch was good. Not even bothering with the water, I poured some straight on the rocks and took a swallow. After the first burning bite, I settled down and sipped it like any sane person. I took a moment to survey the room. A few faces I recognized, but most were new to me. Not unusual considering Sue was one of those people whom an hour delay on the bus meant she had twelve new friends and a date for Thursday night. A slight shifting to my left and a tall gentleman appeared at my side. 

He put a hand on my shoulder and said, "Hey little lady. Who might you be?" 

"John," a voice chastised, "Give her some space before you find yourself kneed to the floor."

"Ahh Lara, do you always have to claim the pretty ones for yourself?" he chuckled.

Ignoring him, Lara turned to me. "Never mind him. John's a big flirt," she smiled.

"I'm Lara. I work with Sue on occasion when she books travel stuff for my firm. This here is John." 

Extending his hand he said, "A pleasure to meet you." 

I grasped his hand, shook it and replied, "Likewise."

"Would you like to meet some of the other guests?" Lara asked. "Now," she continued as she turned and starting pointing out guests, "as you know Rachel here just accepted Tony's collar last week. Sue was a dream to host their party here . . . "

The introductions took a while, but Lara stayed with me, and we slowly got to know one another. Apparently Sue had asked her to show me around a bit, knowing that with my vanilla background and a tendency to be shy I might be a little uncomfortable with this open and slightly raucous group. 

Lara filled me on some more details about what most at the party referred to as the, "lifestyle." Most of it was familiar to me as one can't hang out long with Sue without being open minded. I quickly found myself comfortable and learned new tricks to do with my silk ties at home and some more fantasies for my nights. Lara left me as I talked with Rachel and learned about her lovely new Rottweiler puppy, her first date with Tony and about what the lifestyle meant to her. When I left Rachel, I had her phone number and plans for a movie in couple weeks. 

I mingled at the party, enjoying myself. I would catch occasional whiffs of Lara's perfume as she passed by or the sound of musical laughter ringing in the room. Magically, I kept finding my glass refilled as the night went on. I still don't remember how that happened. The gentleman at the table, Lane as I later learned his name was right, it was good scotch. Puppy stories changed to house stories to the occasional sex stories. 

It was after midnight when I walked over to the buffet table hoping to get another bite of fudge, but the plate was empty, as were most of the plates on the table. A whiff of that perfume caught my nose again. I turned and there was Lara, smiling. I still am not sure how she did it, but when she opened her hand there were two pieces of my fudge. Gently she lifted a piece and brought it to my mouth. She laid it smoothly on my tongue, and I got a taste of her fingers, warm and lightly salty. 

Blushing I said, "Thank you," mumbling a bit as the chocolate melted in my mouth. She chuckled at my reaction and slipped the other piece into her own mouth. 

"See didn't I tell you, Lara, the fudge would be all gone? Hmm?" mumbled Sue looking over the dessert table "Looks like everything took a hit tonight. Even if I do say so myself, I think Rachel and Tony's party went well."

"It was a lovely evening," Lara responded.

Two warms hands wrapped around my shoulders as Sue gave me hug. "Glad you came knucklehead." She smiled at me, and punched my arm a bit.

I staggered. "Yep, one too many Scotches for me tonight," I thought.

"Sue, you mind if borrow a bed?" I asked. "I think perhaps I have drunk too much to drive."

Sue chuckled, "So that's why my Macallan's is all gone? Let me think a moment. John and Lily have the rose room and Michelle and . . . "

Before Sue could finish rattling off the next spate of names that I would never remember, Lara offered, "How about I drive you home?"

As it appeared, Sue had a houseful. I said, "Yes," to Lara. 

Reaching over and giving me another hug Sue said, "Call me tomorrow to come get your car, 'k?" 

"Thanks Sue."

She winked at me, "So better than counting receipts?"

"Yes, even without the legs."

"Legs?" chuckled Lara, "I think I better get you home before this crowd hears that."

Laughing, Sue said, "See you two later."

I don't remember much of the drive home as I was pretty tired. Lara talked a bit of what she does as an attorney and of how she and Rachel met. I learned that Lara was a Domme and was a very close friend of Rachel's. It was nice just listening to Lara's voice, as a bit of Scottish accent occasionally peeped through when she smiled. I fell asleep listening to her. A soft touch on my shoulder woke me when we had reached my house. Lara surprised me by getting out of the car and opening the door for me. I was grateful that she did so, as with the ice on the ground, it was treacherous. It had snowed during the party and I was unaccustomed to walking in heels. 

As we reached my door, she waited with me as I fumbled through my keys to find the right one to unlock it. As I removed my key from the door, I dropped the set. Lara bent over and picked them up for me. As she rose up to hand me my keys she was just inches away from my face. I couldn't help but notice the trace of glitter that laced her eyelashes, and seemed to add extra sparkle to her green eyes. She brushed a hand against my cheek and at the softness I leaned forward. She took the invitation in my eyes and tenderly kissed me, a whisper of the fudge still tracing her lips as I felt her tongue lightly playing against mine. She broke the kiss with a soft smile.

"You are so sweet. Sleep well." She placed my keys in my hand and walked away. I closed the door behind me and went to sleep. It wasn't till morning that I would deal with the complications of my first kiss with Lara and a blistering headache. Just how many glasses of scotch did I have?

Some friends should be shot on sight. Sue showed up at my door and let herself in at 7:30 the following morning, belting out, "Let It Snow," at the top of her lungs. I think I might have thrown my shoe at her. I'm not sure as I

"Come on sleepy-head," she yelled. "We're late, hurry it up!"

I rushed through my morning shower, grumbling the whole time. I was definitely going to shoot Sue as soon as I could find my caffeine . . . As if on cue Sue handed me my cup of tea as I stumbled into the kitchen, my hair still wet from my shower. She took one look at my jeans and shook her head. 

"Well," she said, "you will blend in."

"Blend in?"

"Come on! We're late."

"I'm coming. I'm coming," I said grabbing my hairbrush and I finished getting ready while Sue drove. Once my hair was brushed and braided and I was a bit settled in, I turned and asked Sue, "Now, why the rush? You do realize it's not even eight on a Sunday morning?"

Sue chuckled as she pulled into the drive of a blue Colonial and parked. A deafening slew of barking ensued. Sure enough when Sue and I reached the door two Scottish Deerhounds were there to greet us, along with a whiff of perfume I couldn't help but recognize. It was a good thing Sue was busy apologizing for us being late, as my face was redder than Rudolph's nose. 

Lara stepped out, wearing one of those three piece suits that looked like Tiffany's. The soft rose of her camisole was like the dusky softness of her lips. The morning sun burnished her silken hair with warmth. Her gaze was sharp and clear, the laughter peeking out of her sparkling emerald eyes. "Glad you guys could come, after my clients canceled this morning. I couldn't dream of letting these tickets go to waste. Game's at one, so it's going to be a bit of a tight go to get there."

At my confused look, Lara's shoulders shrugged a moment, "You do like football, right?" she asked plaintively.

My jaw dropped again. This was getting to be a bad habit. Sue broke out laughing, and with her thumb pointing at me exclaimed, "This one? Like football? Ugh. Oh please, you're killing me. You have any idea how many Sundays I have spent listening to her moan and groan her way through every game?" 

Punching my arm, Sue admonished, "Close your mouth Dearie and let's not be late!!"

Lara took her keys out and unlocked the Accord, opening Sue's and my doors before opening her own. Not quite sure where to sit, I stood in the drive a bit waiting. Lara's skirt caught a little on the leather as she slid into the driver's seat, pulling tight against her hip. Her muscles tensed as she stretched her legs to the pedals her calves tightening and sculpting like a dancer's leg. I smiled when I saw that even through her hose, the light dusting of the occasional freckle showed through. 

Sue called from the back seat, "Well aren't you going to get in Dufus? What's wrong with you today?" Blinking back to reality and blushing beat red, I sank into the front passenger seat.

It was a long drive. The conversation flowed smoothly despite my occasional embarrassment as I remembered the feel of Lara's lips across mine last night. "Did I really do that?" Lara drove like a speed commando, taking charge of the road in an unflappable calm that it was easy to forget we were driving in Massachusetts and on our way to Foxboro. Our drive was interrupted by a couple of quick calls on Lara's mobile. Though I tried not to eavesdrop, the soft Scottish lilt to her voice made me smile.

The throng was tight and the excitement high after last week's win over the Chicago Bears. As we made our way to our seats, Lara found our row and gestured for us to sit down. Her hand rested briefly on my elbow as she waited for Sue to find her seat. The opening drive by the Patriots was a disappointment, another failure to convert a 3rd down. The second drive down the field ended in a Stephen Gotskowski field goal and the Patriots were up by three. After that it was downhill despite being ahead 13-10 at the half. A sack, a fumble, several penalties and the Detroit hLions took the lead. The game was getting tight. I was off my seat when Vrable picked the ball; so I think was half our row. Lara was knocked into me, and I couldn't help the shivers that ran through my body when I felt her soft chest pressed against my shoulder. 

I perhaps stayed a little longer next to her than necessary as she looked down at me and smiled a bit, "Nice move there, don't you think?"

I nodded, "Let's hope they do something with it this time."

A turnover by Watson just a few minutes later had me gritting my teeth, but a loose ball grabbed by Mike Wright after that and the Patriots were back in business. Lara gave my thigh a tight squeeze after that one. The game had turned into a nail-biter. After every play I found myself nodding to Lara, our faces mimicking each other in pain or pleasure in reflection of the moves on the field. 

Even the sight of all those wonderfully masculine butts in spandex couldn't distract me from the soft smell of Lara's perfume, or the curve of her calf. As the ball passed into the end zone . . . Touchdown Patriots! I gave Lara a hug. Her full lips inches from mine and I hesitated to let go before turning to give Sue a hug too as the Patriots were now ahead in the final seconds of the game. In that brief moment, though I had never before considered a relationship with a woman, I knew I wanted Lara.  

The Patriots left the field in victory; 28-21. Lara directed us through the busy crowd and with little confusion we found ourselves back at the car. Traffic was slow leaving the game, but with the after game show on the radio, conversation was never dull. Sue seemed to disagree and had fallen asleep before we even made it to route 128 north. 

Maybe because it was dark or perhaps it was the adrenaline still left over from the game, but as we crossed the bridge heading into Maine, I found the courage to ask, "Would you like to go out sometime?"

Lara reached over and put her hand on my thigh. "Pick you up Wednesday, six o'clock?"

In the darkness I nodded my assent.

"Wear something nice. A friend of mine is doing a seminar." She left her hand on my thigh for the rest of the drive. Her delicate fingers were luminescent against my jeans.

From the seminar, to darts at the pub, to a pick up game of street hockey my December was magical. Her kisses seared my toes, her lively debates kept me hopping and my nights were filled with dreams of her. Naughty dreams plagued my days and most especially those hours at dawn when I couldn't sleep, as I waited those long hours till I could see her smile again.

The planned movie with Rachel turned into a matinee foursome. We went to see Eragon, its opening weekend, two weeks before Christmas, as Tony was a fan of Paulolini. Dinner afterwards was a small Italian style bistro. As we left the bistro with Rachel and Tony the argument over the Patriots last weekend's loss to the Miami Dolphins was getting more heated. 

Tony gloated in his Dolphins jacket. "Four sacks and two fumbles the Patriots so don't have a chance at Superbowl this year." 

Rachel just rolled her eyes at Lara. "Tony, enough! I don't want to hear one more time about the shut out, or that it's the first time since 1972!" 

Rachel put her hand on Tony's arm. He stopped and looked her. The heat from the look I think might have melted the sidewalk. With a tip of his hat to Lara and me, Tony said, "See you ladies later. I think I have plans with my girl tonight." With a saucy wink and a squeeze to Rachel's ass the two of them walked laughing to their car. 




Lara



"Dolphin fans . . . " I muttered. "Poor Rachel."

Chuckling, Lara said, "Oh I don' think she thinks so . . . "

I blushed.

As we drove away, Lara's eyes glinted mischievously. "Well I just remembered a commitment tomorrow I just can't break . . . " What commitment? I wondered. She looked at me "Want to watch the Texans get trounced tomorrow?"

"But your clients?"

Her tongue slid lightly over her lower lip as she looked at me "Well?"

I placed my hand on her thigh, leaned over and kissed her. 

With the devil in her face, she asked, "So shall I pick you up in the morning? Or nudge you awake?"

I laughed. "Nice shoes." I answered without ever looking down.

"Let's get home," she said.

Once at her house, she asked me to let Gavin and Ceilgh out, while she made her calls canceling her appointments for tomorrow. My cheeks were cold from standing out on the porch with the dogs. Lara smiled at me as we came in. After I had hung my coat by the door, Lara pushed a curl off my face and placed her lips against mine. Her tongue slipped into my mouth, thrusting over mine and then sliding down, drawing my own tongue after hers. The lips were full and firm against mine. Her hands slid down behind my neck. Her finger kneaded the base of my neck a little. I leaned into her, pebbling my nipples, pebbling up hard against the fabric of my shirt as her chest pushed into mine. 

Breaking away from the kiss she held my eyes with hers. Then her fingers slipped behind my head and released my braid from its coils. Her fingers worked through my hair, leaving the soft strands curling down my neck and back. "Such gorgeous hair," she murmured. "Come my lil one" she said. A grin played across her face. 

She turned and walked down her hall. I followed. Up the stairs she climbed, the rise of her skirt giving me a teasing glimpse of what was underneath. I loved that Lara always seemed to wear skirts. I had never seen her bedroom before and my first step into it was a surprise. Though the design was simple, there was a surprising element of the fantastical about it, especially the large mirror on the wall above the headboard of a giant four poster bed. Complete with silk gauze fastened to each post and unicorns running rampant in the mirrored glass. Lara kicked off dove grey heels and grabbed a box off her dresser. It was a long box, narrow, and white. I looked at her in askance.

She nodded, "Open it."

Inside were three long stem roses, blood red and heavy in spicy aroma. Tucked in beneath was a small card. Walking over to the bed I put the box down and withdrew the card. Sliding it out of its small envelope, I read the simple words: Will you follow me? ~Lara

As I stood their reading, I heard the whisper of silk and felt the heat of her body as she stood behind me. Her hot breath tickled my ear, as I heard the soft whoosh. "Will you?" she purred in my ear. Her nipples were pressed into my back, and I wanted to melt in against those soft curves. I bowed my head as her lips moved to the back of my neck.

"Yes," I breathed.

"Trust is the foundation of any relationship." 

I felt the silk gauze being placed over my eyes. Her nimble fingers tied it in place. "It's like love, something you take in faith. Have faith in me lil one and we will go places that the heart only dreams of." 

Her lips worked liked molten gold over my neck. I squirmed in delight, the skin rising in goose bumps at her touch. Her tongue teased a little at the hollow under my jaw. "Gasp." 

Her teeth sank lightly but sharply into the juncture of my neck and shoulder. My knees buckled slightly and I was grateful for pressure of the bed against them. Turning, I slid my hands over Lara as I used her for guidance. "Hmm," I moaned as my hand lingered al little over her breast. 

I squeezed, feeling the soft weight against my palm. She moaned lightly, and brought her hips forward. Her mouth caught mine. She sucked in my lower lip a little before plunging her tongue into my mouth. Hmm she knew what she wanted. And I was eager to follow. She cupped one hand behind my head drawing me into her as she kissed me. My hand was trapped on her breast between our two bodies. I could feel her nipple hard underneath the cotton of her blouse, so I squeezed, and kneaded again. She deepened the kiss briefly. 

She strummed her hand down my spine, bunching my T-shirt as she did so, till her hand rubbed against my posterior. She gave a little push and I felt my hips bump into hers. The angle was just right and I felt my clit rubbing a little against the seam of my jeans. A knee parted my thighs pulling my jeans a little tighter against my clit. I moaned a little. Impishly, I bit her lip a little as I squeezed her breast a little harder. She gasped and I thought I could feel a smile on her lips as she broke our kiss. 

There was a light tap to my ass, "Cheeky aren't you?" she chuckled.

I couldn't help but laugh at her pun. 

"Cheeky I like."

I fumbled a bit till I found her ass and massaging the ripe bum of hers a bit I pulled her back into me to rub a little more. She laughed a warm laugh and pulled on my jeans. "These, lil one, need to come off." 

She gave another little tug on my jeans. Her fingers rubbed my tattoo, tracing the outline, before her hand slid further down and gave my ass a squeeze. I heard her walk away. 

Taking the woman's excellent advice, I stripped off my jeans, my socks and my T-shirt. I heard the covers on the bed being pulled off. Lara turned and I heard her give a soft whistle. I blushed the slight confusion ebbing my arousal a bit Lara's voice turned soft and tender, "Lil one, why do you hide such magnificence?" Her fingers traced the side of my chest, "It's a shame to hide these don't you think?"

I was about to stammer a protest when I felt her finger press against my lips. I felt her hair brush against my cheek then her lips against my skin. I shivered as her tongue darted over my breast following the curve into my cleavage. She lifted the weight in her hand and brought it up to her my mouth. Sucking the fabric in, she closed her mouth around my nipple and sucked. 

"Lara, please."

She sucked harder, rolling her lower lip under a bit and massaging a bit. When she released my nipple my bra was soaked and the cool hair tightened my skin a bit. Lara leaned forward and kissed my mouth again. Hmm sweet was her mouth. She undid my bra as we kissed, lifting the eye hooks with greater ease than I could have myself. 

She patted the bed gently and said, "Join me." 

I sat, sliding backwards, feeling the coolness of the sheets against my legs. Lara undressed quickly and for a brief moment I had regrets of not being able to see such exquisite loveliness as she stripped. My wait though was not long before I felt her weight on the bed. 

"Slide up," she said. 

I slid up the bed. Lara straddled me. Her thighs gripped my hips. I could feel her muscles flexing a bit as she kneeled and balanced her weight. She leaned forward and I felt her nipple brushing against mine, teasing in feather like brushes as she squirmed a bit over me. Her lips wreaked havoc with the side of my neck as she laid trails of soft kisses from my cheek to my breast. She suckled hard on the underside of my breast. She teased my nipple rolling it with her teeth. She then rose up above me. I felt her fingers brush against my face as she undid the gauze over my eyes. 

Her nipple was just above my face, the areola tight and light pink in color. I groaned and took the succulent morsel in my mouth. After that first taste I sucked in hard, filling my mouth with her breast. Her answering moan encouraged me further and I suckled more. Her breast was firm yet soft at the same time. It rolled easily in my mouth. The nipple hardened when it rubbed against the roof of my mouth; a little extra pressure and I got another moan out of Lara. So I scraped my teeth lightly against her skin and her breath held a moment while my tongue laved and caressed. Switching to her other breast, I continued my assault. My hand roved the side of her waist, groping and teasing her skin, trying to get another one of those delightful moans out of her.

Lara lowered her hips and I could feel the curly hair of her mound tickling my belly. She squiggled a bit sliding down my body pulling her breast out of my mouth as she slid. The top of her head was below my chin. She caught my breast with her lips, sucking my nipple into her hot mouth. I bucked a bit beneath her arching my back tightly, thrusting my breast deeper into her mouth. She pressed her hips down grinding against my taut legs, and I could feel the wetness between her legs sliding on my thigh. I shifted a bit underneath her, rubbing my leg against her wetness. Her breasts slid heavy and full against my abs, as she ground against my leg. I squirmed even more. 

"Hmm," so did she. 

It was a bit of a reach but she accommodated me. I placed my hands on her ass and squeezed. Massaging a bit, she moved her hips in a circular motion against my leg. Teasing the firm skin with my fingers, kneading a little, I mimicked the rhythm of her mouth on my breast. A squeeze, a suck, a rub, a lick, each of us upping the ante a bit. 

Sweat sheened a bit on my skin, and hers. I slipped my tongue out and licked a taste of her skin. Her breathing got ragged and harsh. She stilled against me and placing a hand on my chest told me to shush a moment. I grew still under hand. She kissed each of eye lids and I settled a little into the sheets. 

"Ready for trust?"

"Hmm yes," I murmured.

"Then close your eyes."

I shut my eyes. Lara trailed kisses down my neck, through the valley of my chest and down my body, only stopping as she reached my knees, where she nipped lightly before moving away. Her words were low and soft, "I love seeing you in my bed; your hair tangled in my pillows." I heard the grin in her smile, "Hmm you are mine sweet one."

I blushed hearing her words, and had to bite back to keep the lump out of my throat. I felt Lara's gentle fingers on my calf and then around my ankles. The silk caressing my skin, I felt her check the knot once again. It was loose enough that if I was determined, I could slip through. She moved to the other side of the bed and did the same to my other ankle. She moved up to my head and I heard her grab another twirl of gauze off the post of the bed. I offered up my hand for her. She grabbed it and lightly kissed the inside of my wrist, her lips nibbling against my pulse.

"No my sweet one, though I am honored, you would give them to me. This last one is for your eyes. I want you to lean back and just feel; trust your body lil one and I will make it sing." Her fingers brushed against my cheek and I opened my eyes to look into hers. I smiled at her. "Ready?"

"Yes," I smiled.

"Lara?"

"Yes?"

"But what about you?"

"All in good time, now relax lil one."

I closed my eyes and she gently blindfolded me.

"Patience," she scolded.

I squirmed as she continued to work her way down. Her hands kneaded and caressed my breasts. She rolled them, she massaged them and she lifted the nipple to her mouth and sucked in. My hands pushed her head down hard into my breast. "Oh fuck Lara," I moaned.

I bucked right up into her mouth. She moaned in pleasure. She worked her magic on my other breast, massaging the one she left with her fingers. She trailed kisses down the valley of my belly and along the ridge of my hips. I gasped when I felt her teeth on the inside of my thigh. I held a breath and then another in anticipation. She continued to tease my skin with her mouth until I relaxed a little. Her hands worked on kneading my thighs and slowly pushing my legs open a little wider. 

The first tingle of her tongue surprised me. Feather light she teased the hood of my clit, pressing two fingers on my mons. She added a little pressure, grinding a little in a circle so that the movements caused my clit to rub up against her mouth. Then she sucked in. I gasped as the heat of her mouth enveloped me. She sucked harder. 

I moaned, "Damn." 

I raised my hips up. She teased a little with her tongue and then let up. Sliding her tongue down, she opened my lips. She flicked it in. Sliding and poking, I couldn't help but pull against my ties. I wanted more of her. She slid in deep and I could feel her nose rubbing against my skin. Then she surprised me and I felt her teeth scrape against my lips and then bite. I squirmed. She slid her hand up and split my pussy wide open. She licked a long slow lick. One, two and then I lost count. 

I brought one hand up and caressed my breast rolling the nipple a little as she tongued me. I gasped harder when she slid two fingers and pressed hard against the upper wall of my pussy. She rubbed, she slid, all the while working the magic with her tongue, rubbing my clit, and then teasing the lips. I ground hard against her, squirming, moaning and melting beneath her. I became frantic as she teased me a bit, her tongue a butterfly. She lifted her mouth slightly and gave the inside of my thigh another soft bite. I wanted to scream. 

"That's right my sweet one," she said, "let go . . . let go for me."

Then she lowered her mouth on me once again. She took my clit hard and sucked in. She slid a third finger in to join her other two and then pressed hard. Thrusting gently then harder, encouraging me to bring my hips up to meet her mouth. I came hard and fast after that. I am not sure but I think I screamed. As the delicious aches settled, she gently kissed down my legs and untied my ankles. Once they were loose, I moved to try and find her. She laughed softly and put her hands on my arm. 

I blushed as her fingers caressed my face. She undid my blindfold. I stared deep into her green eyes. I think I could have looked in them forever. Her fingers were so soft as they swept a sweat curl off my face. I blinked my eyes a moment as I felt the sudden flush of tears behind my eyes. One gulp, then two and I opened my eyes again. Her smile was tender and slightly concerned. I reached my hand up and touched her face too. It took all my courage but I lifted my eyes into hers. 

The words soft, "I love you," I whispered.

"Ahh sweet one, have wished to hear you say so." She cupped my face firmly. "I love you." 

Though her fingers were pressing into my cheek I had to look down. 

She lifted my chin softly with her finger till I caught her eyes again. "Lil one," she said.

"Yes?"

"I want you to be mine. You know that right?"

I looked at her "Yours," I sighed contentedly.

She rubbed her finger against my cheek "Yes sweet one, Mine."

"Yes . . . " I paused questioningly.

"Mistress," she supplied.

She kissed me then, long and hard, her arms holding me close. I ran my fingers through the softness of her hair. She held me then, her hands working down my back pressing me into her. She squiggled and she squirmed a bit, her chest rubbing mine. I laid kisses down her neck, tentatively at first. She threw her head back a little exposing even more of her skin. I kissed hard, sucking and nipping lightly between my lips. A soft moan escaped her lips. Her hand cupped my chest, her fingers sinking into the skin a little. A moan escaped my own lips vibrating against her skin. Hmm, she squirmed even more. So I moaned again into her skin, then I flicked my tongue tasting her. A soft lick, then a harder one, I worked my way down her neck. I nipped lightly at her shoulder. I traced my tongue in lazy circles around a mole I discovered above her collarbone. A light dusting of freckles lay scattered over her breast bone. 

She pushed up onto her elbows and watched me. I smiled into her eyes. Then slipping my tongue in the valley of her breasts, I lifted her right breast, rubbing the nipple into my cheek. I rolled her breast softly, sliding the nipple across my lips. I darted my tongue out wetting the nipple. I blew my breath across it, watching it harden in front of me. Rolling my lower lip in I slid her breast into my mouth and sucked. She filled my mouth and I felt the soft weight against my chin. I moaned when she arched, pressing her breast even harder against my mouth. She shifted her weight and her breast jostled loose from my mouth. She lay down against the pillows. I straddled her, resting my weight just over her hips. Then leaning down I kissed her lips. My breast hung heavy and rested against her skin. She deepened the kiss, placing her hands on my back pressing me into her. Her chest squeezed against mine, rubbing deliciously. I shifted across her, rubbing as I did so. 

"Kiss me sweet one," she breathed.

So I kissed her, I kissed her cheek, her neck, the delightful mole and every inch in between. I worked my way down between her legs. Placing my hands inside her thighs, I slowly pushed her legs open further. I ran my tongue over the inside of her thigh all the way up the tender skin inside her groin. I sucked the skin. I did the same to the other side, watching her hips squirm a bit. Lara though didn't wait for me to work my way in. She put her hands behind my head and lightly rubbed my face against her pussy. I slid my tongue into her wetness; plunging in as far as I could go. Then sucking lightly and then harder against her lips, I slipped my tongue out. 

Using my hands I massaged her skin. Placing my palm over her clit I rubbed and teased. I slipped my thumb over the hood of her clit and rolled it a little while my tongue thrust in and out of her pussy. I teased the outer edges of her lips with my tongue before sliding it over to her clit. I sucked in gently. Then slowly I released. I traced a lazy letter A over her clit. Then the letter B. She squirmed a bit, lifting her hips underneath my mouth. Increasing the pressure I wrote her name with my tongue. Sucking harder after each letter, I placed my hands under her pelvis and ground her hips into my face. 

My fingers molded and caressed her ass. Grinding hard I increased the speed of my tongue. Her fingers tightened on my scalp. I released her ass with one hand. Splitting her lips open I inserted two fingers. Thrusting in, I rotated my fingers around. Keeping pace with my tongue I pushed them in an out increasing the speed as Lara's moans turned to small yelps and groans of pleasure. She came raggedly against my mouth.

Lara was sweaty and her skin flushed. I slid up against her, placing my head on her chest. I felt the drumming of her heart and the unevenness of her breathing as she held me. "Sleep well my sweet one"

"Sleep well Mistress."

We drifted off to sleep in each other's arms.



Lara



This is my first attempt at writing for Literotica. I'd be most grateful for any feedback or criticism! This story involves anal sex and analingus, if that's not your scene then don't read. Enjoy!

***

"OK, now take the second exit on the next roundabout."

"Got it..."

"Wait a minute! Stop! I meant the third!"

"You said the second!"

"Well I meant the third."

"Fucking CHRIST."

Lara shrank back in her seat and stared out of the window. She hated map reading, she hated Chris's grumpy mood, and she hated the fact they were going to visit Chris's dad and stepmum. From her boyfriend's description, his father was a red faced, snorting capitalist who lacked respect for women, ethnic minorities and his own liver, while the stepmother was a lascivious tart of pantomime dimensions. She glumly reminded herself of the parties she was missing back home in Edinburgh, the banter that was taking place in the communal kitchen in her student halls, and how miserable the weekend ahead would be.

A couple of hours later than planned, they walked up the driveway of Chris's father's house in the Lake district. In spite of herself, Lara felt a little happier at the sight of the lovely countryside. She steeled herself as they walked into the living room.

Wholly unexpectedly, she found herself being pressed into a rather large bosom. "You must be Lara!" cried its owner, freeing her from the crushing embrace. "I'm Collette, Chris's stepmum... and speak of the devil!" Chris was given the same treatment, which he extricated himself from coldly. "I'm sorry we're late. Lara was demonstrating her map reading ability." Lara stared at Chris when he insulted her, but Collette laughed heartily at him, smiling at Lara and wrapping an arm around her. "Come through to the kitchen, I'll get you both a drink."

Lara was blushing furiously, not only because of Chris's lack of tact. Collette was the most striking woman she'd ever seen: long, straight brown hair, which smelled delicious, a curvy body with a tiny waist nipped in by a belt, wide hips and shoulders, and of course, huge breasts with a generous amount of cleavage between. Her skin was olive, her ethnicity was somewhat ambiguous, and her eyes were sparkling and green. Lara considered herself to be straight, but occasionally she would see a woman which caused her to wonder a little. 

Collette mixed gin and tonics for them all. Chris drank his with unseemly haste, and poured himself another while the women sipped theirs more slowly. Lara usually drank faster, but found herself unconsciously copying Collette's slow, deliberate movements. 

"How's my girl?"

Roger strode through the door, beaming on the group. He kissed Collette on the top of the head, before seeing Lara and introducing himself. "I'm Roger. So nice to finally meet my boy's companion. Lara put out her hand to be shaken, but Roger took it in his left hand, raised it to his mouth, and kissed it lightly while looking into her pale blue eyes with his brown, wolfish ones. Lara blushed again. She really wished she didn't blush so easily.

"Good to see you son" Roger advanced on Chris, who smiled a little when his father hugged him tightly. Lara was pleased to see her boyfriend looking somewhat happy for the first time that day.

The group went out for dinner in a small local restaurant. Roger and Colette evidently knew the staff well, judging by their friendly manner with everyone from the manager down. Lara, a part time waitress herself, was particularly impressed with their patience with the waiter, who barely seemed eighteen years old and who was evidently brand new. His newness manifested itself most clearly when he turned round suddenly and knocked Chris's wine glass off the table, splashing Chris with a half glass of an unassuming red with warm, mulberry tones. Despite the rest of the table trying to laugh it off, Chris didn't see the funny side and informed the manager.

"How could you?!" gasped Lara when they were finally alone, back home in the guest bedroom. "You saw how nervous he was! You probably lost him his job!"

"Good! It will make room for someone who's bloody competent!"

"He's new! It was probably his first shift! I made so many mistakes in my first month. Imagine if I'd been fired! I would have had to beg my parents for money, and what sort of sad case lives off their family at our age..."

Lara tailed off as the sad case stared at her balefully.

"Look. I'm going to sleep in my old room. I'll see you in the morning."

Chris exited, slamming the door.

Lara lay back in bed, and angrily cracked the spine of her paperback. She knew Chris would most likely be apologetic in the morning, but she was horny now. She was suddenly reminded of their first fight, when he had stormed off to his room, and after drying her eyes, she had slipped into his room and given him a surprise blowjob as a form of apology. Perhaps the same technique would work this time.

Lara sat up and swung her legs out of bed. Moving as noiselessly as she could, she crossed the guest bedroom floor, carefully opened the door and padded across to the second door on the left of the corridor. She paused for a moment before opening it, her heart thumping, then forced her hand to turn the knob and walked through.

Her eyes were no use in the total darkness, so she put her hands out to feel her way. She brushed against what felt like a pillow, and patted out to confirm that she was standing beside a bed, with a silent body in it. Lara smiled a little as she ran her hand up his back, over his neck and ran her fingers across his scalp, leaning over to brush her lips against his ear. He stirred, rolling onto his back in half sleep to kiss her fingers, and she responded by pushing her fingertips gently into his mouth. He sucked on them languorously, resisting when she pulled them out, trailing them down his bare, firm chest to circle his nipples, eliciting a gasp. She paused her teasing for a moment to slip under the covers, lightly kissing his lips once she was in.

"Well, this is a surprise Lara."

Lara gave an unexpectedly theatrical gasp when she realised where she really was. Rather than being in bed with her boyfriend, she had stumbled into the bed of his father... and his wife!

"Oh God... oh Christ... Jesus!" she stammered.

"Just Roger will do, my dear," said Roger, before kissing her and folding her in his arms.

"B... but..." she said, her words disturbed by Roger returning her attention to his nipples in kind, stroking and pinching her through her thin top. Her nipples erected and doubled in sensitivity, and she couldn't help moaning aloud when he bared her left breast and started sucking, flickering his tongue across the exposed nub, continuing to roll her right nipple between his thumb and finger.

Lara and Roger's movement and vocalisation wakened Collette. She wallowed into conciousness, rolling over to hold her husband... and found instead a young woman, her tits exposed to Roger's mouth and hands.

"Lara." she muttered, her hand reaching for the girl's soft belly, kissing her slowly on the lips.

"I wondered when you were joining us love. " said Roger, leaving Lara's engorged nipple to kiss his wife.

"This was an accident, I didn't mean..." said Lara.

Collette reached over to the dimmer switch, bringing the light up slowly so as not to hurt their eyes. Lara had quite a choice of lovely sights to survey. Her sexy father, his wolf like eyes dilated with lust and his mouth in a confident smirk, and his beautiful wife. Both were nude, as was their usual habit for bed, and Lara could see the tip of Roger's uncut cock, peeking over the top of the covers and barely brushing his navel. As enticing as she found his manhood, she was entranced by Collette's body. Lara, while curious, had never been with a girl before, nor had seen a naked woman in real life at such close quarters. Her breasts were large, drooping slightly due to their size, with fine, tanned skin peaking in large purply areolae capped with pink, swollen nipples. Her broad shouldered chest narrowed to a tiny waist, before flaring out again to her broad hips. Collette did not deny Lara a glimpse of what lay between those glorious hips, parting her legs a little to reveal her pink inner lips between her trimmed, full, outer lips. Collette watched Lara's appraising glances, and teasingly kissed the air between them, still stroking her belly and running her fingertips under the waistband of the girl's shorts.

"Hmm... you're breaking the rules honey. No clothes allowed in this bed." said Collette, grinning broadly.

Lara was usually too shy to even wear a low cut top in public, but having been brought to near orgasm by Roger's expertise at nipple play, she was no longer in her usual state of mind. She crossed her arms and pulled her top up, her tits bouncing a little as it pulled past them, then reached out and exaggeratedly dropped it on the floor. Then she pulled her shorts down slowly, revealing her cunt with its waxed lips and little landing strip, before stretching her long legs out to remove them completely, relegating the shorts to the floor as well. She lay back between the couple, brazenly naked, smiling a little in spite of her residual nervousness.

"Much better. What a georgous creature to wake up to" burred Collette, leaning over to press her full lips against Lara's eager mouth. Their tongues slid together, feeling cat-like rough against each other. Lara explored Collette's body, cupping her full breasts and stroking down her back to squeeze her full bottom. Roger lay very close, his eyes wide to miss no detail. His hand stole down to his cock, stroking up and down his shaft lightly and running his nails lightly over his balls. He could have cum at any moment, but he was anxious not to spoil the main event.

Collette slid down Lara's body, licking round the edges of Lara's bald lips. Roger returned to her tits, pushing them together to try to suck both nipples at once. Lara's body bucked when Collette's lips closed over her clit, while her tongue gave it deliberate laps. Collette pushed two fingers into Lara, curling them round to stroke her G spot. Lara could feel her orgasm building, but Collette felt her body stiffening and backed off, which Roger noticed and copied her. Lara lay gasping from her near orgasm, while Collette let Roger lick Lara's essence from her fingers. Collette gave her husband a little wink.

"What's that?" asked Lara, as Collette reached into the bedside drawer, taking out a small tube of lube.

"You'll soon see" she replied, tucking it under the pillow, which Roger smothered further questions by kissing her. Lara relaxed into the kiss, allowing him to explore her mouth, tasting her own juices from his tongue. He leaned his body against her, not able to resist moving his cock against her thigh, as if his manhood scented the moisture running down her thighs. His hand floated down her body, easily finding her clit and rubbing in slow circles. After a while, his fingers slid down to her cunt, sliding in and feeling her warmth and tightness. He made eye contact with his wife, who gave him a small nod. Finally, his wicked fingers left her cunt and slid even lower.

Lara's eyes flashed open when she felt Roger probe her nether orifice, though with shock rather than pain. Her arse was coated with her juices, as were Roger's fingers, and he slipped past her tight ring with ease. He slipped down, till his head was level with her clit, anxious to taste her firsthand. Collette lay next to her with an arm around her, stroking her own so far neglected clit. He licked her to the brink of orgasm with three fingers deep in her virgin arse, then stopped.

"Please don't stop" whispered Lara, moving against his hand so that his fingers didn't still in her arse.

"You like this then?" growled Roger, his eyes staring unavoidably into hers.

"I..." she began.

"Do you like me fingering your sweet little arse?" he repeated

"Yes!"

"Say it again."

"I love your fingers in my arse."

"Have you been fucked here before?"

"No..."

He used his other hand to roll her nipple while he said, "Lara, with your permission I'd like to be the first."

With his fingers deep in her, her tortured nipple sending shockwaves across her body, and his huge, cock pulsating at the edge of his vision, her answer was to turn over, cock her bum and present herself to him.

Collette laughed fruitily and stroked her back. "Now we show you what the lube is for," she began, but Roger stopped her. "Not yet."

He leaned over, pressing his tongue into her dark hole. She couldn't believe it at first, "Oh... God... you're licking my..."

He scooped his fingers behind, lightly stroking her horny slit as he fucked her with his tongue. After a few minutes he pulled away and wiped his face.

"I'm going to lube your arsehole so you're good and ready to take me. But while I do that, I'm concious that my wife's pussy has been neglected so far, and that is intolerable. I want you to lick her for me, Lara". Collette beamed at her husband. "Come and taste me, honey."

Lara approached Collette's open slit, aware of an odour which was lighter and sweeter than she had expected. She kissed a horseshoe around her labia, only dimly aware of Roger introducing a third and fourth lubed finger to her bottom. Lara slid her tongue between her lover's inner and outer lips, pretending her cunt was her own. Collette watched her husband lubing his cock, and smiled at him lovingly, making love to him by Lara's proxy. He met her smile with his own, leaning over Lara's figure to kiss her passionately. "I love you" he whispered to his wife, sliding into Lara's arse.

Lara gasped with pleasure as his fat head popped into her arse. Roger had enough experience to know that he needed to wait for her to adjust to him. "Just relax as much as you can. Touch your clit for me" he told her. He felt the ring of muscle loosen a little, and slid in a bit more. "Oh yes..." he moaned, as his whole cock was swallowed by Lara's tight arse. "Ooooh" moaned Lara, twisting from Collette to kiss the man who was deflowering her bum. "Let's kiss her together" whispered Roger, tasting his wife's flowing cunt, while she pulled on her nipples. While Roger pampered her clit, Lara tasted a woman's arse for the first time.

The twin assault of Roger and Lara's tongues on Collette's clit and arse pushed her over the edge first. Her orgasm was almost silent, but so strong Lara felt her squeeze around her tongue. Spent, Collette slid under her husband and his lover's heaving bodies, desiring to see her husband's cock in a strange arse up close. She licked her husband's cock as it slid in and out, her tongue flickering up to his balls and perineum while she rubbed Lara's clit in circles. Lara was the first of the pair to come, her cunt squirting and her mouth gasping at her first anal orgasm. The reverberations nearly ended Roger, but he had one more fantasy to fulfill.

"Collette, bring the mirror over". She complied, her nipples tingling anew as she remembered her husband mentioning this fantasy during their own love play. Roger pulled out of Lara, then repositioned her in the reverse cowgirl position, while Collette leaned the mirror against the wall at the end of the bed, so they could all see Roger giving Lara a deep arse fucking.

"See my cock in your arse?" grunted Roger, his hands on her nipples and clit again, mercilessly. "See how wet your cunt is and the wanton expression on your face? You love this more than anything you've ever had". Roger felt his orgasm building up in his balls, and roared as his cum welled up and shot into Lara's arse. He pulled out, and she rolled off onto her front on the bed. Her parted legs allowed Roger and Collette to see his cum dripping from her, her nether virginity waving its final white flag. Roger took his wife's hand and kissed her, whispering "I love you." They both watched as their lover squirmed over, bringing herself to her second orgasm in front of them. The couple put their arms around her, kissing each other again before they all drifted off to sleep.



Lara



Nu ne-am mai văzut din adolescență.

Locuiam în același cartier, foarte aproape, dar, în afară de faptul că știam că are un frate, ceva mai mare decât mine, iar că ea este cu vreo doi anișori mai mică, tot decât mine, ne întâlneam doar total întâmplător și ne salutam. Atât.

Când ai mei au hotărât să cumpere un apartament mai spațios, normal, ne-am mutat în alt cartier, așa că nu după mult timp am pierdut legătura cu, să-i spunem, vechea mea gașcă.

Dacă, sporadic, cu băieții mă mai vedeam, vara, la o terasă, să lingem o bere, cu Lara nu m-am mai văzut deloc.

Nu mică mi-a fost mirarea să mă aud strigat, într-un muzeu de pictură modernă în care nu știu ce resorturi interioare m-au îmboldit să intru, pe nume...

Mărturisesc că mi-au trebuit secunde bune ca să asociez femeia blondă, înaltă, cu o față frumoasă, cu toate cele la locul lor și bine proporționate, cu fetișcana pe care n-o mai văzusem din adolescență.

În sfârșit, îmi pică fisa și, ca să compensez secundele de pauză și nedumerire, exult de entuziasm, un pic exagerat:

--Lara! Nu te-am mai văzut de o mie de ani!...

Mergem la o cafea.

Deja a terminat cu studenția și de un an predă istoria și filozofia la un liceu din București.

Are un program destul de lejer, care-i permite să-și facă destul de mult timp pentru propriile îndeletniciri, una dintre ele fiind și că nu-i scapă vreun muzeu, sau piesă de teatru, sau film.

Zburdă, după cum se exprimă, conștientă fiind că după ce și-o găsi jumătatea și vor veni copiii, lucrurile vor lua o cu totul altă turnură...

Îi pun întrebarea deja devenită standard:

-- Dar cu dragostea cum stai?

Face o pauză, destul de lungă, apoi se lansează într-o poveste începând cu primul ei prieten, care a reușit s-o convingă să devină femeie, chestie de care-i era exagerat de multă frică, pentru ca apoi să devină aproape nimfomană de mult ce i-a plăcut...

N-a liniștit-o decât surpriza că a rămas gravidă, trebuind să treacă prin aventura unui chiuretaj ilegal, cu toate fricile și riscurile implicate de un asemenea gest...

Dacă era după ea, ar fi ținut copilul, însă nu i-a plăcut de reacția tatălui acestuia, care imediat ce a aflat de condiția Larei și-a pus palma-n cur și... dus a fost!

Nu că și-ar fi dorit s-o ceară de nevastă, să-și asume responsabilitatea în vreun fel, dar, când l-a văzut cât poate să fie de laș, s-a gândit că oamenii sunt niște mamifere care dau naștere unor pui vii, asemănători cu părinții, iar ea pui care să-i semene, la caracter, tatălui, nu și-a dorit...

Deh, trupul ei, decizia ei, n-am ce comenta...

A mai avut vreo trei sau patru relații mai serioase, mai de durată, în rest, doar sex ca sport, cum se spune...

După stilul în care-mi povestește, clar și concis, sintetizat, ca să mă exprim astfel, se vede că este cadru didactic și chiar are, după părerea mea, vocație pentru această îndeletnicire...

Apropos de îndeletnicire, cum a avut mereu rezultate foarte bune, chiar i s-a propus să rămână în facultate, ca asistentă, însă a refuzat, îmi spune, râzând, pentru că la cât este ea de tânără și de pofticioasă, precis se apuca să se culce cu studenții, de ieșeau alte alea...

Râd și eu, destul de sincer, în timp ce calculatorul lucrează -- mi se învârt rotițele, cum să fac s-o invit, după cafea, la mine acasă -- să-i spun direct, sau s-o iau pe după cireș...

Aleg varianta cu cireșul, povestindu-i că între timp locuiesc singur, că mi-am dezvoltat și mai mult colecția de înregistrări muzicale și de discuri, iar după cafeaua asta, zic eu, chiar ar merge un pahar de whiskey sau de vodcă, dacă nu cumva preferă vin...

Mi se uită, zâmbindu-mi galeș, în ochi:

-- Dacă, cum ți-am povestit, nu mi-ar fi fost atât de teamă de ideea de a face sex, te-aș fi vizitat eu, încă de când eram puștani, dar știam de la niște fete cam ce reputație aveai, așa că, deși-mi plăcea de tine, am preferat să te ocolesc... Dar, mai bine mai târziu, decât niciodată, mai ales că, din câte înțeleg, nici nu te-ai însurat și nici nu ai vreo logodnică...

Acum, după așa un discurs, eu ce pot să mai comentez?

Ajunși la mine, Lara face lucrurile să se precipite. După ce-și dă pardesiul jos, lucru pe care-l fac și eu cu al meu, vine hotărât în fața mea, se lipește de mine, mă îmbrățișează și, hotărâtă, îmi bagă limba-n gură.

Ce whiskey, ce vodcă, ce muzici?!?

În cinci minute de lupte suntem deja în pat, unde a ținut neapărat să mă răstignească, pe spate și, constatând că deja sunt cu pula sculată, nu pierde vremea ci și-o înfige cu elan și fără teamă.

La cât este de udă, cred că s-a excitat încă de când eram în oraș, la cafea...

Stă deasupra mea, pe vine și se lasă să cadă, s-o simtă pe toată, închizând ochii și scoțând un:

-- Ahhhhhhh!...

Iar se ridică, iar se lasă să cadă, făcând chestia asta de vreo zece ori, până când brusc, se sprijină cu mâinile pe pieptul meu și o simt cum dă într-o splendoare de orgasm, ținându-mă adânc înfipt și lăsându-mă să mă delectez cu pulsațiile ei, în timp ce și ea, cu siguranță, se delectează cu pulsațiile pulii mele...

Stăm așa, vreun minut sau chiar două, apoi sare de pe mine și se întinde alături, pe spate, cu picioarele ridicate, ținându-se de pulpe și-mi șoptește:

-- Hai, ia-mă tu acum!...

Nu las fata să aștepte, așa că mă poziționez deasupra ei și intru, tot așa, adânc și fără precauții, că doar mi-e clar ce și cum îi place...

Pornesc într-o mișcare de du-te vino, rar la început, însă cât se poate de adânc, făcând să ni se lovească pelvisurile, chestie care, clar, o încântă.

Fata nu este la prima experiență de acest gen...

Simțind-o cât de mult îi plce, renunț la pompe și încep să-i frec lindicul cu pelvisul...

Într-un minut, apar și consecințele -- iar își dă drumul, închizând ochii ei cei verzi și frumoși și scoțând un:

-- Ohhhhhhh!...

Mă trage să cobor și să-mi lipesc pieptul de al ei, în același timp încolăcindu-și picioarele pe mine și trăgându-mă să stau înfipt în ea cât se poate de adânc...

Iar ne delectăm, fiecare cu pulsațiile celuilalt...

După ce o simt că se liniștește, profit de momentul de acalmie și o întreb, cât se poate de direct:

-- Frumoaso, când vine momentul, eu cum termin?

-- ... Oriunde vrei, mai puțin acolo... dar... bine ar fi dacă nu mi-ai băga-o-n fund, pentru că n-aș vrea, după ce terminăm, să trebuiască musai să mă spăl. Îmi place să mai rămân întinsă, pentru o vreme...

Nu comentez, însă mă ridic și o ajut să-și sprijine tălpile pe pieptul meu. Menționez:

-- Asta-i poziția mea preferată!

Reiau pompele, iar dintre bucile ei se aud tot felul de zgomote -- este și mai inundată decât la început...

Mă întreabă:

-- Nu vrei să ne oprim o clipă, să mă lași să mă șterg?

-- Nu scumpete mică! Chiar mă simt mândru de ce ți-am putut provoca acolo!...

-- ... Băi, dar e inundație, nu glumă!...

Chicotește:

-- Nu mi se întâmplă cu toți chestia asta, ești bun!...

-- ... Și tu, ești grozavă!...

O pompez, rar, apăsat, iar ea are grijă să-și miște bazinul, într-un fel de rotații, accentuând apăsarea pulii pe diverse porțiuni ale pereților pizdei, amplificându-mi plăcerea...

Gata, m-am hotărât! Vreau să-i dau primul clei și-i spun și ei că o să încerc să termin.

Mă roagă frumos să nu mă grăbesc, pentru că și-ar dori tare mult s-o fac să mai termine o dată.

-- Bine, domnișoară, se rezolvă!...

Continuăm în același stil, motiv pentru care în nici cinci minute apar iar consecințele.

Oftează din rărunchi, apoi, grăbită, mă roagă:

-- Termin acum! Ia-mă-n brațe te rog!...

Îi eliberez rapid tălpile de pe pectoralii mei și o îmbrățișez. Îmi cere, din gesturi, să ne sărutăm.

Ne futem și cu pula-n pizdă și ne futem și cu gurile -- îmi suge limba de zici că vrea să-i ajung cu ea între amigdale. Lasă, mai e puțin și vede ea ce pulă-i bag în gât și o umplu de sloboz!...

În fine, iar mă ridic și-i prind gleznele în mâini, ridicându-i picioarele, apoi jucându-mă cu ele de parcă ar fi un ghidon, făcând-o să-și miște curul, ba în stânga, ba în dreapta, ba în sus, ba în jos.

Țipă, extaziată, o dă în chicoteli, apoi iar țipă...

Tot ținând-o de glezne, o iau la pompe, de data asta des și apăsat...

Nu trec cinci minute, că simt că mă apropii și eu de clipa supremă, așa că i-o scot, îi las picioarele și o încalec pe piept, o prind de sâni și i-i apropii, apoi încep să-i trag câteva zeci de pompe între mamele. 

Mă ajută și ea, ținându-mi cu mâna pula apăsată între lăptării, apoi ridică dovleacul de pe pernă și, în timp ce-o pompez, îmi aplică limbi pe capul pulii, cănd este suficient de aproape...

Gata! Chiar că-mi vine, așa că mă ridic în genunchi și i-o înfig în gură, ținând-o, totodată, cu mâinile de ceafă, ca să-i fie mai ușor să mi-o primească.

Nu e prima dată când mi se întâmplă -- alternarea asta de la pizdă la țâțe îmi întârzie ejacularea, așa că profit de ocazie și mă așez pe-o parte, având grijă să nu-mi scape pula din gura ei, apoi o pun să-și sprijine capul de pulpa interioară a piciorului meu. Pricepe rapid ideea -- poate că i s-a mai întâmplat și cu alții -- și-și vede liniștită de treabă...

Cert este că e fată bună și deșteaptă -- nu mă suge, ci doar are grijă să mi-o lingă, de jur împrejurul capului pulii, alternând cu linsul doar pe ața pulii, apoi luându-mi-o în gât...

Îmi plac de mor senzațiile pe care mi le provoacă cu părul ei cel blond pe pulpa piciorului, iar în mai puțin de zece minute simt, în sfârșit, presiunea:

-- Dacă, poți, cînd termin, ia-mă-n gât!...

Dă din cap afirmativ și-mi îngână un:

-- Îhâm!...

Gata, explodez! O țin de ceafă, înfigându-i-o în gât.

O simt că are probleme cu respirația, însă nu încearcă să se retragă. Mă lasă să mă simt bine...

Nici eu nu sunt vreun nesimțit, așa că imediat ce termin cu jeturile, i-o retrag, dar nu de tot.

E fată experimentată și de treabă -- nu mă linge de să mă facă să mă urc pe pereți, ci doar își ține limba ferm apăsată pe pula mea, lăsându-mă să mă liniștesc...

Mi se uită în ochi, apoi îmi arată dinții și, în glumă, mă mușcă, finuț, de pulă...

Ce să-i spun?

-- Scumpo, de mâncat poți să mi-o mănânci o singură dată! În schimb, de futut, teoretic cel puțin, te pot fute de un număr infinit de ori!

Și-o scoate, rapid, apoi, chicotind dar și văitându-se:

-- Hai măi! Nu mă face să râd cu ea-n gură, că nu pot!...

Deh, râdem amândoi...

Îmi ia coaiele în mână, în timp ce cu limba parcurge distanța de la capul pulii până la coaie, apoi se întoarce până ajunge la cap și iar mi-o ia în gură.

Știu care vor fi consecințele, însă, cum nu văd nici un impediment, o las, distrându-mă, văzându-i uimirea din ochi.

Se prinde rapid ce se întâmplă, așa că prestează cu și mai mult elan, nu înainte de a mi-o mulge bine, să fie sigură că nu mi-a rămas vreun piticot pe canal...

Ba mi-o mai și suge, finuț...

Iar sunt beton, așa că o ajut să se așeze pe coate și genunchi și i-o bag pe la spate, tot tare și fără rețineri...

Nu apuc să dau de zece ori din fund, că o simt cum se cabrează -- e gata. Întoarce capul și-mi spune:

-- Stai acolo, adânc! Presează-mă!...

Mă conformez și o las să se liniștească, apoi reiau pompele...

Nu trec zece minute, că iar o dă-n orgasm, așa că de acum, cu lecția-nvățată, i-o țin înfiptă adânc, doar că de data asta am grijă să mă aplec și să-i iau mamelele la mozolit, că prea i le-am neglijat până acum...

Nu m-am uitat la ceas, cu exactitate, dar la mine al doilea rând de sloboz nu vine decât după vreo oră de pompat la greu, timp în care ea își mai dă drumul de vreo cinci ori, provocând o inundație de toată frumusețea.

La un moment dat își duce mâna-ntre picioare și simte slobozul de pe pulpele picioarelor, așa că mă roagă să-i dau un șervețel, ceva, să se șteargă, ca să nu i se scurgă pe cearceaf...

Îi dau un prosopel, așa că-și rezolvă problema.

În fine, iar ajungem la momentul festiv, așa că o fac să se întindă pe-o parte, îi prind capul în mâini și i-o bag direct în gât. De data asta am avut grijă să i-o scot din pizdă aproape în ultimul moment.

După ce mă liniștesc, cobor din pat, mă duc la un sertar si scot o seringă, fără ac, normal și cele două flacoane -- unul cu oțet, iar celălalt cu apă, prepar combinația în seringă, apoi, după ce întind un prosop pe o pernă, îi spun:

-- Hai, frumoaso, așează-te cu poponeața ta cea scumpă pe pernă, comod, că trebuie să stai așa vreo douăzeci de minute, ca să-ți bag chestia asta în fofoloancă!...

Se interesează ce este, îi explic că este anticoncepționalul clasic al bunicilor. E puțin speriată:

-- Măi, sper că nu te-ai scăpat în mine!...

-- Nu, pui mic, dar... oricât m-ai muls și m-ai supt tu, tot sunt șanse să fi rămas vreun piticot pe canal de la primul număr, așa că n-am chef să avem parte de surprize.

Este, se vede pe ea, cam stresată, însă, constatând că, în afară de senzația de la început, de răceală, nu se întâmplă nimic, se relaxează.

Buuuuuun...

Trec la prepararea celei de a doua șarje -- de data asta este aproape complet relaxată, însă-mi spune:

-- Cum nu sunt adâncă precum o fântână, cu siguranță că o să-ți fac mizerie!...

-- Nici o problemă! Stai liniștită!...

Între timp, o las pe Lara în pat și plec la bucătărie, la frigider, nu înainte de-a o-ntreba ce preferă, vodcă sau whiskey. Zice că vodcă, așa că mă conformez...

Trec și cele douăzeci de minute, așa că după ce aștern un prosop împăturit pe șezutul fotoliului Larei, iau un prosopel, tot așa, împăturit, și-l proptesc între picioarele Larei, la gaura pizdei:

-- Hai, ridică-te și ia loc pe fotoliu. Ți-ajunge cât ai stat cu pizda la soare, sau, mai bine spus, la lustră!...

Râdem amândoi.

Mă descoase în legătură cu anticoncepționalul ăsta din bătrâni, motiv pentru care îi explic că la țară femeile foloseau mai ales zeama de varză, cu același efect, iar la oraș, cucoanele, zeama de lămâie, că cea de varză pute...

În legătură cu muzica, mă roagă să pun ceva liniștit și cu volumul redus...

Pun o muzică ambientală, așa că putem discuta liniștiți.

După ce ne terminăm paharele cu vodcă, Lara mă roagă s-o las să facă un duș.

O însoțesc, motiv pentru care o și ajut, spălându-i și masându-i spatele.

Nu se lasă până nu-mi aplică și ea același tratament...

Nu, nu vrea să ne cordim în baie, chiar dacă mă vede cu pula sculată, pentru că ea are... alte idei...

Întorși în cameră, ia o cuvertură de pe pat și o întinde pe jos, pe mochetă.

Se întinde pe spate, punându-și o pernă sub cap, apoi ridică picioarele, în stilul ei și mă invită, menționând:

-- Chiar dacă protestez, să nu ții cont!...

Normal că tăria podelei, lipsa amortizării saltelei, ne amplifică amândurora senzațiile, iar pe Lara, clar, din când în când chiar c-o doare, așa că dă din ea cu tot felul de sunete onomatopeice, însă nu încearcă să-și ferească pizda de ciocanele mele...

O avertizez că de data asta, spre sfârșit, vreau să-i iau la țintă și gaura curului -- chiar o întreb dacă vrea vreun lubrifiant, ceva, dar mă refuză:

-- La cât ți-o lubrifiez eu, acum, sunt sigură că n-o să fie nevoie!...

Cum iarăși are tălpile proptite pe pectoralii mei, trecerea de la fofoloancă la curuleț se face fără probleme.

E antrenată fata, plus că i s-a scurs din pizdă ceva sloboz pe gaura curului, așa că penetrarea se face fără probleme, singura surpriză fiind că oricât îi stimulez eu lindicul, oricât o pompez până să termin, tot nu reușesc să-i provoc orgasm.

După, la o țigară și încă un pahar cu vodcă, îmi povestește că n-a reușit niciodată să aibă orgasm futându-se-n cur, dar că apreciază metoda ca fiind un foarte bun anticoncepțional și, oricum, s-a obișnuit s-o ia de așa natură încât să n-o doară...

Își exprimă regretul că nu poate rămâne peste noapte la mine, întrucât are niște lucrări de control de corectat, însă mă asigură că dacă n-am nimic împotrivă o să mă mai viziteze.

S-a ținut de cuvânt și am tot lălăit-o așa, ani de zile, până ce mi-am găsit eu jumătatea, adică prima soție, moment în care, așa cum am făcut și cu toate celelalte, am întrerupt legătura.



Lara & Adonis



I know this chapter isnt all sexed crazed but give this story some time! 


~Lara~

Sixty-three my mind chanted in my thoughts, it was already 4 a.m. and I still couldn't sleep. I started over counting the ceiling tiles in my bedroom. 1 ... 2 ... 3 ... 4 ... 5- thump

Sitting upright in my bed I listened "what was that" I asked the darkness. Swinging my legs over my bed I crept to my door and leaned my ear against it.

THUMP!! 

I let out a small yelp and jumped back, it sounded like it was in the house I turned in my room hoping to find something I could beat the assailant with. 

Everything was still in boxes I sighed.

"They're going to rape me and pillage this dumb old house" dad had convinced me that moving out to the middle of nowhere would be good for him. After his triple bypass I had gone into over-life protective mode which I knew he hated. I cut just about every fat out of his diet made him exercise but not too much and I had even signed him up for breathing exercises. 

Silently I opened my door the hall was empty and dark I looked back and forth but nothing I really didn't want to go any further seeing how I was only wear panties and my boyfriend Justin's tee but Nancy Drew was starting to surface and I had to check it out.

THUMP 

I jumped, it wasn't in the house it was outside the rational side of my brain screamed for me to turn around lock your door and pull the covers over your head. 

I made my way to the front of the house and peered out the windows but no one was there.

"What is that damn noise" I asked the darkness again. 

THUMP

Then I saw it a fire maybe something red in the distance behind the trees. Running back into my bedroom I pulled my jeans and sneakers on grabbing a flashlight off the table I headed out the door I was praying that it was just campers, drunk idiot campers.

~Adonis~

The feast was just like any other my men pounding away at the whores that followed us while some with the women of their love. I hated them how they could all so easily mate. A growl resonated in my chest when I thought of mating I grew tired of being alone and even more tired of the endless parade of women dancing trying to entice me thinking that maybe if they said the right things and moved the right way I would mate with them. 

If only it were that easy.

"Sire are you ill?" my handmaid Lucida worried for me she knew what happened to Were-kings if they did not mate.

I shook my head "no no Luc I am enthralled with thought no go enjoy the festival for at first light we are moving camp" I gave her a light shove into my first commands arms Cael, he loved Lucida but he could not mate with her because of her age.

I stood from my seat and the music quieted "enjoy the night men I am proud but restless I'm headed to rest" the cheered and the music started again.

I stepped down and turned heading back to my tent when I saw it a beam of light flickering back and forth. 

Pulling my sword from it holster I waited for the attackers than she emerged a thin delicate girl hold a light she seemed bewildered at what was around her a gust of wind blew her sent to me and the wolf inside me howled claiming her dropping my sword I let my wolf take hold and howled with him. 

She jumped back "oh my god I am so outta here" she dropped her flashlight turning she ran in the direction she came.

"After her" I called to some of my guards who had come to see why I had howled.

Shifting they caught her easily Cael had her in his arms "where do you want the captive my lord?" 

I choked on his word.

"She is no captive dear friend ... she is my queen and in my chambers I need to run before she wakes" 

Shifting into my preferred form I trotted in the darkness I knew if I didn't I would take her inappropriately.

~Lara~

The strong smell of incense filled my head then the chatter between women.

"This mere being is his Queen? How will she satisfy him? I mean look at her" another one chuckled.

"Aye Celeste you have always been jealous of any women Lord Adonis chose" she chuckled again "besides you'd better start showing some respect for our new Were-Queen" the young girl said the title with such revere Lara couldn't help but smirk.

She sat up in the furs causing both women to gasp "your highness we meant no disrespect" they both kneeled.

"Oh my god stop stop" she waved her hands at them "please stand up I am no Queen"

Have these people lost their minds? Werewolves, Kings and Queens and festivals what was wrong with these people? 

They stood and I found myself in the most luxurious sleeping gown running my hands over the fabric and I gasped.

"Silk my Queen, Lord Adonis said nothing but the best" the young one seemed proud of her work. "Did you make this?" I asked her.

She nodded "of course Celeste helped me" Celeste curtsied I fought everything in me to roll my eyes.

"How many of you are there?" the seemed confused with my question "peop- err uh werewolves?" they shared a giggle

"All, madam we are all werewolves" the young girl answered again. I sighed "kay well how bout you do your best and give me a head count off the top of your head"

"Over 200 and that is just at camp here" a deep 

voice beat her too it. 

We all turned to see who answered me and there stood the most gorgeous man alive he wore tight fitting fabric pants but was completely shirt less I fought the urge to run my fingers down his chiseled tan chest. 

I looked back at the women they had both dropped to their knees I looked back at him he had an amused look on his face.

I pointed at him "you must be King Adonis?" he smiled and I forgot the smartass remark I had for him. 

He nodded "leave us" he called to them.

They both rose and curtsied and murmured "yes my lord" I watched them leave with jealousy, Celeste was so right I couldn't be his ... hell me and Justin barely got to second base.

"You seem nervous my love is there something I can do to calm you?" he had made his way to the makeshift bed and sat down as he unlaced his boots.

"Uh yeah let me go home kidnapper" I screamed at him. His calmness worried me he had no intention of letting me leave. His face smoothed over with anger.

"How dare you speak to your King in such a manner" he roared at me he dropped his boots and walked over to the basin and washed his hands. I laughed and it sounded more like a scoff "you are not my King you bastard I have rights!" the sound of his hand connecting with my cheek was the only thing you could hear ring throughout the tent. 

I heard the gasp of people behind the flap.

He staggered back; my face felt like it had just sprouted flames. Tears fell from my eyes. 

"By the gods I am sorry" he placed a cold rag on my cheek I jerked away from his touch. "Please no I am sorry do not fear me" I looked up at him he was genuinely beautiful his light jade eyes seem to glow against his tan face which was slender but very intimidating. 

I reached up and brushed the dust from his brow, his sharp intake of breath warmed me in places no one had ever touched.

His nostrils flared and a sexy smirk grew on his face with the tip of his index finger he brought my chin closer to his face I closed my eyes and awaited his assault that my body seemed to long for.

"I can smell you getting wet for me" his lips brushed against mine and his words worked wonders on my body. Small moan slipped pass my lips, I bit my bottom one as my hands found their way to the back of his head I tried to pull him closer to me. He kissed his way down my chin to my chest he bit down lightly.

"Ahh god yes Adonis" I couldn't help the way I was acting.

His chest vibrated with a growl, I climbed into his lap I wanted more of he had to offer, he looked a bit taken back by my boldness as I ground my hips against his erecting cock causing him to moan louder than I expected. 

I rotated on him he tipped his head back in pleasure giving me good access to his neck. I licked my way up to his chin and bit his shoulder grinding faster on him. He grabbed ahold of my ass making my movement less erratic and I moaned "oh god come for me Adonis come please" he groaned and shook.

I came in my panties hard biting on his shoulder he was breathing hard I let go of his shoulder shocked to find I had drew blood. 

He chuckled and wiped the corner of my mouth with his thumb "My Queen you are amazing" he lifted me from the ground where I had took him. 

My face flushed with at what that would have just looked like then, it me like a sack of bricks ... Justin. 

~Adonis~

Something was wrong the camp was quiet I stretched my arm to her side of the bed but it was empty and cold my wolf growled.

"My lady?" I called out to our dark tent sitting up I searched each corner.

I jumped out of our bed and inhaled deeply ... she was gone I howled with my wolf at the loss of my queen.

"Cael!!!" my voice shook the walls. 

I paced I didn't know a thing about her except her smell and that she was mine, why would she leave and where would she go?

"My King did you call for me?" Cael's eyes were heavy with sleep.

I paced still "you must find her ... she has gone off camp she must be returned before first light"

I tossed an article of clothing of hers at him he looked at it dumbfounded. 

"Get her scent hand it around to three others and spare no time!" the wall shook again with the roar of my voice.

He nodded "she will be found sire" and with that he left me to my thoughts.

How could I have not noticed her presence missing? My wolf longed to bury myself into her warm slit. My loins burned for her and she just left like I meant nothing like I wasn't planning on giving her my wealth my love my seed to bear.

My wolf howled a piercing cry that was shortly joined by a few of my men who understood the pain of losing a mate. 

~Lara~

I wanted so bad to roll up the gorgeous sleeping gown that girl had made but I couldn't waste any time. 

With Adonis dagger close to my chest I ran blindly through the forest. I really had no idea where I was going but excited that they didn't come looking for their missing Queen. 

I stopped looking out over the wide creek I had somehow stumbled across. I didn't pass a creek I'm not heading in the right direction sighing I slid down on to a rock and began to cry.

I would never see Justin's smile ever again hear my father's laugh I began to cry even harder at the thought of not having my father with me what will he think when he wakes in the morning and find me missing? He'll think the worst start a man hunt to find me.

"My Queen?" a deep voice asked I let out an exasperated sigh "over here boys" I stood and they looked at me like I had lost my mind "don't look at me like that!" they ducked their heads and all gave me a "sorry Highness" 

I smiled "will one of you help me down?" I extended my hands but no one moved to help me.

"Guys c'mon I'd get down myself but I had a harder time getting up here" they all rushed to the rock and helped me down I smoothed my dress out and looked at them.

"My lady if I may ask what were you doing all the way out here? King Adonis believed you ran" I opened my mouth to tell him I had but couldn't his look said enough, pain and despair.

I laughed instead "where would I go in the middle of the night? Don't be ridiculous I just need air and seeing as how I don't know these woods I took a weapon for protection".

They all nodded because my lie actually sounded reasonable! But the man that had asked me squinted his eyes in disbelief "why not ask one of us to accompany you?" I shrugged "it's not every day a girl becomes a queen how would I know what to do besides I needed to be alone. Now enough questions lets go" I turned and headed back to camp the men on my heels murmuring back and forth.

We arrived at the edge of camp and turned to them "I can take it from here boys" they bowed and spilt and went their own ways. I walked into the Adonis tent and bowed "My King forgive me for worrying you I just need air and time to myself" I figured if I couldn't make it out of here I would play the role til I found my exit. 

He crossed the tent in record speed picking me up bridal style kissing me so strong I couldn't help allow his exploration of my mouth when he broke the kiss we had somehow made it to the bed and he had slipped one hand down my gown and was pinching and pulling at my now erect nipples. He seemed to gobble my moans of his name while the only thing I could think about was being anywhere but his arms sounded like hell.