1 comments/ 7898 views/ 0 favorites Te By: Jenna_In_Dreamland The light from the fire shown in her eyes, flames dancing in their blue depths with playful abandon. There had been no warning, no great portent of her coming. She came into this world without fanfare. Birth the only thing she had ever done with little notice. Her feet slipped gracefully over the floor, bells jingling in time with the drums. Silk slithering over her skin as she danced. Every eye in the room fixed upon her. She controlled their breathing, the beating of their hearts. She owned them. None dared even whisper as she spun around the room, her red-gold hair a living thing in the flickering light. Te Asrana, aptly named. Te, the power by which men and women are ruled. ~'~'~'~'~'~'~'~'~'~'~'~'~'~' Laughter echoed off of the walls of the small room. "A choice," Te laughed. "Oh, I had one. I am no fatalist. I could very well have chosen to deny my nature. And that, that would have been the blasphemy. To have gone against the creator, to have tried to twist what she gave me for the sake of your moral fiber and in the name of your church. I will hear no more of this. You may leave me." Her hand waved in dismissal. The women forged on, convinced as she was of God's will. "You walk with the Devil, the very Devil. You are a hedonist, giving yourself over to sin without a second thought. You blaspheme with every breath. You stir lust, lure men from their wives…" Te smiled "They come willingly, it is the wives who are blasphemous. They do not know how to love their husbands." "Evil!" The woman spat. "Hold that evil tongue of yours, I will hear no more." And with that she left, stomping out of the apartment in high dudgeon to the sound of Te's musical laughter. ~'~'~'~'~'~'~'~'~'~'~'~'~'~' Te, the siren, born to sin. The face of an angel was almost enough to hide the soul of a temptress, almost. Her body, built of fantasy, reclined upon a pile of pillows. Long smooth skinned legs lay gracefully against the black brocade; well-rounded hips gave way to a temptingly soft stomach and full breasts. Broad shoulders draped in hair made of flame, and dropping into a graceful back. All supported on arms strong yet feminine, with capable, long fingered hands. All of this was enough to captivate, to ensnare. But then, her eyes, sparkling, fluid, liquid sapphire pools that went on endlessly. Men lost their souls for those eyes. Lost their souls as they tasted full red lips, and touched soft creamy skin. And they never looked back. Te, created neither good nor evil, simply powerful, a force of nature. She stretched sinuously and rose to her feet. The sun was setting, and it was time to dance. Time to weave again that spell of enchantment. This time there would be no firelight, no bells, and no silk. Only leather, binding chains, pulsing lights, and pulsing sound. ~'~'~'~'~'~'~'~'~'~'~'~'~'~' The music slammed into the crowd, the beat capturing them before she even took the stage. The lights went out, and when they came back on she was bound, center stage, writhing on the pole. Her hands chained above her, body clad in strips of leather, feet dangling a few inches above the ground. Her hands wrapped around the pole as she brought her legs up to her chest, and then above her head, wrapping them around the pole. Her hair hung down in a cascade as she slid slowly upwards, feet first. Then the air was split by a crack, and from the side of the stage came a whip, ripping leather away from her skin and baring her back. She ground against the pole and moaned as the pounding industrial rock continued to shake the room. She held onto the pole with one leg and kicked the other straight out, spinning around the pole, giving slight glimpses of her bare breasts. As the spin slowed she swung out, holding the pole only with her bound hands and swinging around into her original position. Facing the crowd, breasts bared, face lowered, body submissive. And yet everyone knew her to be in complete control. The whip cracked out again, and the leather strips covering her hips and thighs were removed. She was left in nothing but a collar, an anklet, and the chains that bound her. She arched on the pole as if in ecstasy and out of the shadows came a man. He was clad all in black silk. A silk half mask covering his eyes. Long black hair flowed free over his shoulders as he strode towards her. His confidence and strength were unmistakable. The audience held their breath, awaiting his next move. He stopped directly in front of her, and he knelt. Head bowed in submission, a whip dropped from his right hand, his head on level with her ankles. The lights went out, and the music stopped. Silence… The silence was replaced by the roar of the crowd as the stage lights turned back on. Te stood with her delicate feet upon the man's chest, the pose adopted from a painting of Siva and Kali. The roar was deafening. The smile on Te's lips bloodthirsty, and the eyes of the man fogged over. Te Amo Isis, Kendra, and Lila are original characters and belong to me.Wolverine and Hank Mcoy are copyright of Marvel. I do not own them, nor do I profit from them in any way. I had been working in Lila's Books for about six months. She hardly had any books for sale. She mostly sold newspapers, some magazines, comics and a few paperbacks. She sells cigarettes and cigars too which brings me to my point. Cigars. I remember the first morning he came into shop. It wasn't a nice day at all. It was wet and rainy, the kind of weather that makes you want to lie in bed all day with a good book and a few glasses of wine. I didn't feel like being at work and didn't pay much attention to the customers I checked out, just enough to greet them and sell them their newspapers. "What kinda cigars you got here darlin'?" I had my back turned to him, but he had a voice that made such a simple question sound almost obscene. "darlin'" Huh? Who calls strange girls darlin' anyway? Without turning around I said "We have SLR's and Te Amo's, we have some others too but people buy those the most since they are not expensive but still good, at least that's what the other customers tell me. We sell them individually I hope that's alright." I turned to face him. I don't think I have seen a man like him before. The guys I see at school seem so tame now looking at him. Tame was the only word I could think of. The complete opposite of "Him". He was not very tall. He had thick black hair on his head and everyplace else not covered by clothing. Even on his hands. I could see some of the hair on his chest where the top two buttons of his shirt were open. His eyes were steely and blue. He smiled a dirty smile and I felt like he had undressed me two or three times. He had unusually sharp canines. "Te Amo sweetheart." he smiled again. "How many?" I asked softly. "Make it five." He growled. I felt my face flush. He flicked his tongue licking one of his sharp canines. I was starting to wonder how those sharp teeth would feel on my own tongue. Wow girlie you need to get that thought outta your head now! I climbed up onto the stepladder I used to reach the shelf that the cigars were on. I caught myself arching my back to give him a better view of my rear. Are you crazy Isis? This guy looks like he would eat you alive! Why don't just make it obvious, go ahead "bend and snap". I climbed down from the ladder feeling more that a little embarrassed for acting like a hussy in front of a strange man who was ,while not old looking could easily have been my father. I rang him up and he reached out to take the brown paper bag from my hand. His forearm was huge, and so hairy. I started wondering how hairy he was in more intimate places. What is wrong with you? You are acting like this is the first time you've laid eyes on a man. "Thanks darlin." He said with a wink I felt like I was getting dizzy. My mouth became very dry all of a sudden. I licked my lips and managed to get out a "Thank you". My heart was racing. How could this man affect me in such a way? All he did was come into the store and buy some cigars. I was kidding myself. He had done a lot more than that. With a smile and a couple of "darlin's" and a "sweetheart" he had basically seduced me. I'm not man crazy. I rarely date. I study most of the time and spend a lot of time alone. People might even say I am a wallflower or a bookworm. No one would ever expect me to be lusting after a very dangerous looking man. No one would expect me to be lusting at all. He made me feel dirty and I had to be honest with myself ,I liked it. I replayed the sound of his voice in my head. I thought of his well muscled arms and what I could see of his chest. I wondered what it would feel like to run my fingers across it,my tongue. I felt my panties become damp. It was going to be a long shift. I was no good to anyone for the rest of the day. I gave a lady the wrong change. I dropped a stack of magazines all over the floor. I spilled coffee. Lila came in for a few minutes to see how things were going. She owned the place but rarely came in for more than a half an hour. She is a sweet, tiny old lady with white hair and a sparkling smile. I hope to be as beautiful and vivacious when I am in my seventies. "What's gotten into you Isis?" she asked," You seem a little out of it, are you not feeling well?" I couldn't tell her what was causing me to make so many mistakes. I wasn't one to make many. I had always been so organized and together,and I really had to work at it. I was just always afraid to let go,afraid I might mess up. "I'm not sure Ms. Lila, I don't feel like myself today, I apologize." "We all have our days",she spoke kindly, "and it seems you never allow yourself to have one, you are entitled also." She is so sweet I couldn't ask for a better boss. "Could you be pregnant?" She had a worried look now. WHAT! Oh no she didn't. I laughed, I told her that was absolutely impossible unless we were talking immaculate conception. "A nice young girl like yourself shouldn't spend so much time alone" she said. I knew she was right but I responded with only a smile and went back to shelving magazines. Finally the day was over. I closed up the store and stopped at the market on the way home. I almost bought a bottle of wine but decided I needed a whole box. It was going to be a long night. I opened the door to my apartment and Sabby, my cat greeted me as usual with a loud, howling meow it always seems like she is trying to tell me something. I just scratched her under the chin and meowed back. "Hey shiny black kitty." She really is my best friend. Sadly sometimes seeming like my only friend besides Ms. Lila and a girl in my Bio class. I settled on the beanbag chair in my living room and had a glass of Sunset Blush. I thought about the stranger from work. The way he looked at me. I don't think anyone has ever looked at me that way. Maybe they had and I chose to ignore it. At nineteen I had only one sexual encounter and it was nothing special. I settled for my shower head massager after that. I had wanted something special, something I would remember forever but two years later I can't remember much. Only that it hadn't lasted very long and the jerk never called me or spoke to me again. I know I am not unattractive. At 5ft and 125 lbs I am in decent shape but far from a super model,with mocha skin,brown eyes and medium length black hair, nothing exotic here. I have been told that I look exotic but I don't see it. Maybe because I see myself every morning when I wake up. I don't get a lot of attention from men because I think they sense that I don't want it. There are plenty attention hungry girls at school. My thoughts once again wander back to the man in the store .I wiggled in my seat and I feel a throbbing between my thighs. I try to make it go away, think of something else but it seemed that there was nothing else. What was it about him? When I did notice a guy on the rare occasion he was generally clean cut for the most part, in his early to mid twenties. This man was not in his twenties, his body was better than any younger mans but his face, his eyes told a different story, a very long story. He did something for me sexually but there was more. The longer I thought about him the more I wanted to know. He was mysterious and that had to be part of the attraction. I poured another glass of wine and thought about putting on a Doors album, then I thought better of it. I was the horniest I think I had ever been and listening to Jim Morrison could only make it worse. I laughed to myself. I continued to wiggle in my chair. I closed my eyes and the pulsing between my legs worsened. I had a feeling in my stomach that was like an aching, but not really. I sighed and slipped my right hand into my soaked,cotton panties. I needed to make the ache go away. I fondled my clitoris and it throbbed, I pushed my hips forward into my hand and rocked back and forth. I began to massage my pussy harder and harder. I licked my fingers and started to pinch my left nipple then the right, still rubbing harder and faster at my swollen clit. I moaned and begged to myself "Please ,please." I wanted to know his name, I needed to cry it out as I brought myself to the most intense orgasm I had ever experienced, even with the shower head massager. I felt so dirty but so relieved. I felt a little better but I still couldn't get him out of my head. I took a long hot shower and looked my shower massager. I couldn't help but laugh. After my shower I had another glass of wine and lied down to go to sleep. I thought about "Him". I wondered what sort of women he liked, I wondered what kind of dirty things he would say in bed. I wondered if he would call me "darlin" while we were making love. With a voice like that it wouldn't be fair if he didn't use it on his lovers, and something told me he had been with many. I had a class the next morning. Finally I felt myself doze off. I was actually late for class. Only by a few minutes. Kendra sat next to me in biology class. "I can't believe you're late!" she whispered,her eyes wide with surprise. "I never thought that day would come, Ice Cream." Ice Cream. It was a joke. Something about me being frigid. If she only knew. "Ha Ha, it actually feels good to be a little late." I laughed. "That's my girl" she giggled,"breakin' the law, breakin the law'". We exchanged smiles. She was a nice girl. She had asked me to go to a few parties but I always declined. I didn't think I would fit in. I wanted to tell her about my mystery man, but I kept it to myself. The lecture was long. It was about cell respiration. I have a great professor. Professor Greene, she sounds like Julia Child, which makes her interesting to listen to. I still enjoy labs above lectures. I hadn't gotten the best rest the night before. Lots of tossing and turning. I felt different today. I felt a little like everyone knew I had fantasized about a complete stranger and fingered myself as if there were no tomorrow on a bean bag chair in my living room. Then I thought about how I would feel seeing "Him" after what I had done. I thought I would probably want to crawl into a corner and die. I had to wonder if I might ever see him again. Isis you are really obsessing over a man you don't know. About a week went by. I thought about the stranger a few times. I tried to forget him but the fantasies were so intense. They made me feel like a woman. A woman with a real sex drive, not a robot, always struggling to do everything right. It felt good to have those feelings even though I longed to have him really touch me. Other guys must have sensed my personal sexual revolution because I got asked out on a few dates. I even went to lunch with Mark, my lab partner. Mark is a nice guy but I couldn't stop thinking about "Him". Then it happened. I had just opened the store and Lila was there. We were talking and having some coffee. She had noticed the change also. "You seem different,more relaxed." She tilted her head as if she were trying to analyze me. I smiled at her. I had been "relaxing myself" nearly every night since I first saw "Him." "I like how you've even started wearing a little make up, makes you look very nice." "Thanks Ms. Lila." She gave me a long knowing look. "New boyfriend?" She put her hands on her narrow hips and winked at me. I almost spit coffee all over the counter. I guess it all depends on if the guy in question has to KNOW that he is your boyfriend. He was no boy though. He was more man than I had ever laid eyes on. "Oh, no boyfriend" I said quietly. "Then maybe there is someone you want to be your boyfriend." She laughed loudly "A crush perhaps?" Then there was another voice, a male voice, deep and husky,dripping with lust. It was "Him." "Pretty young thing like you got no boyfriend?" I felt like I would die right then Lila's eyes widened at the sight of him, she glanced at me. He looked me up and down and smiled. I tossed my hair and giggled like a school girl. Did you just toss your hair? Lila who usually would not have stayed in the shop as long as she had seemed entertained yet concerned about me being so flirtatious. She'd never seen this side of me. Hell, I had never seen this side of me. "What can I get for you today Mr..." "Logan,just Logan." It sounded like he growled his name rather than spoke it. I creamed my panties instantly hearing his name. He sniffed the air and looked at me with a raised eyebrow. Is it possible that he can smell what he's doing to me? There are a lot of people out there with all types of abilities. We had discussed it a little in school. We had a guest speaker come in and give a lecture. A nice Doctor named Hank McCoy. "You remember what I like darlin'?" He said in a near whisper. He really could make any sentence sound nearly pornographic. "Te Amo." I flashed my best head over the shoulder Farrah Fawcett grin as I stepped up onto the ladder. Lila's mouth was nearly on the ground. I arched and gave him a slight wiggle. I knew he was watching. I felt so alive. It made me feel powerful knowing that a strong man like Logan was watching ME. Flirting was an awful lot of fun. I never knew before. Then I thought about how I must look to Lila. I wondered if she thought I was acting slutty.I wondered if he thought I was acting slutty. I highly doubted that he only went for the conservative type. I imagined myself to look somewhere in between slutty and nice. My make up was light, only a little eyeliner and lip gloss, my hair pinned loosely on top of my head, a few tendrils around my face .I wore an aqua sundress with spaghetti straps but it wasn't short enough for anyone to see underneath while standing on the stepladder. I thought for a moment that I wish it were short enough for him to see the wet spot he was responsible for on my white cotton bikini underwear. I stepped down off the stool and handed him his five cigars in a brown paper time his large ,hairy hand brushed mine. He ran his tongue across a canine and purred. It really did sound like a growl and a purr. My heart was beating out of my chest. "See ya next time sweething." His face was closer to mine than last time. He smelled like whiskey, cigar smoke and something else that I couldn't place. Just "man" I suppose .What ever it was it made me want to climb onto the counter in front of him and bury my face in his thick, black sideburns and lick and suck on his neck. Some women may not find the combination of scents arousing but it they were doing it for me. Then he was gone. I stood at the counter and I'm pretty sure my eyes has glossed over. Lila cleared her throat. "Need a cold shower Honey?" she laughed a little and then with a concerned look on her face said "So I guess this is the guy?" "What guy?" I said trying to play it off and failing terribly. "It is pretty obvious you've got a thing for Mr. Logan but I am a little worried, he looks dangerous, he looks at you like a wolf looks at flock of sheep, and he's quite a bit older than you, I have to be honest with you Isis, he frightens me." Lila had treated me like a daughter since I started working for her, and like a daughter I said "Really , he looks at me that way?" "I think you are missing the point dear, just be careful, maybe a nice boy from college would make you happy." Lila smiled sweetly. "I don't want a nice boy from school." I thought to myself. I wanted Logan, with his filthy charm and whiskey on his breath. "Thanks for looking out for me Ms. Lila" That is all I could say to her. I guess it's obvious what went on at my place when I got home. I knew his name now and I needed to know how it would feel moan and scream it. Logan. Can a name get any sexier than that? it has to be number one out of the top ten hottest names to call out in bed. I couldn't believe the way I was thinking. This time I decided to do it in the shower. I sat down in the tub and hung one leg over the side. The shower massager was attached to a hose and with one hand I parted my throbbing pussy lips using my index and middle finger, and with the other I held the shower head in place. Tonight I decided to use rapid pulse. Oh yesssssss,oh God Logan please ,please don't stop,don't ever stop,OOOH oh please! I imagined him claiming me, pinning me down and even hurting me a little. I imagined how he would nearly split me in half, since I had only had sex once and it had been two years. The water pulsed it's rapid rhythm. I rose my hips toward the water stream. I sighed his name one last time. Logan The next morning was a Saturday. It was a vibrant spring day and I felt especially energetic. I didn't have to work since I only work at the store every other Saturday. I didn't have much schoolwork so I decided to go for a walk in the park, maybe grab a hot dog from a cart vendor. It sounded like a plan. A day out alone is still a day out. I felt pretty good. I still thought of Logan. The way it made me feel when he looked at me, when he spoke to me. But I thought, maybe I should go out on a date when someone asks. It couldn't be healthy daydreaming all the time about a man I only met twice and so briefly. I threw my hair in a ponytail .I put on green tank top and a black sweater. I put on some faded jeans and a pair of low top All Stars. I was ready to bum around town, taking in the sites. I needed to do some thinking out in the open air. I walked for about a half an hour, got my hot dog with a bottle of water and did some window shopping. I was walking out of a consignment shop when I ran into Kendra from school. "What are you up to chickie?" she said, all smiles as usual. "How's my favorite nun today?" I laughed so hard since it seemed that all my thoughts had become insanely "impure". "Just doing a little window shopping,what are you up to?'' Knowing that she was up no good, in a very innocent way of course. "I was gonna call you because I'm going to the movies with Eric from Chem and his brother is in town from Berkeley and I was thinking, double date?" she was practically bouncing up and down as she spoke. I was actually considering her offer and then I heard the pipes of a motorcycle. I had my back turned away from the street so I paid no attention at first, until I heard that voice. It was Logan. "Ain't you my pretty little cigar girl?" he purred deeply. My heart was drumming in my chest and I could hear it pounding in my ears. Calm down Isis, this may be the only chance you get, don't make a fool of yourself .I stood up straight and looked him straight on." "Te Amo." I smiled and looked away. Kendra interrupted my shameless attempt at flirting. "That means I love you, are you crazy?" She whispered. Logan smiled a wicked smile and lit a cigar. "She ain't crazy,not yet." Logan purred. Whoa, what does he mean "not yet?" How could he have heard her on this busy street? "I know that Kennie, but the cigars he gets at Lila's store are called Te Amo Robusto. " I explained, feeling a little embarrassed. "Oh" She sighed sounding very relieved. I couldn't understand how it could be that Kendra and Ms. Lila were so terrified of Logan but all I wanted to do was climb on the back of his Dyna and go where ever in the world he would take me. He turned off the engine, dismounted and leaned against his bike with his arms folded against his broad chest. He puffed away on his cigar. I loved the way it smelled. I loved the way he smelled. I felt a gush between my legs, and he licked one his sharp canines and let out a low growl. It's almost like he knows what he's doing to me. Te Amo This story starts last summer, my first holiday without my family as I'd just turned 18. I'd gone to the same resort I'd been to so many times with them, a beautiful beachfront hotel on a little island just off Cuba, still belonging to Cuba but far enough from the mainland to be much more tranquil than most Cuban resorts. There was a lively nightlife but through the day, when I preferred to lay on the beach or at the pool and not be bothered, I could do so. I loved the resort, and had made many good friends there. When I arrived, after my 10 hour flight I was obviously exhausted so I went to my room to rest before going out to see what familiar faces I could find. I walked to the back of the hotel disco knowing the dancers, most of whom I considered friends, would be rehearsing. As I looked around the door one of them, Dilia, a small olive skinned girl with boundless waves of bleach blonde hair, squealed excitedly and ran towards me. "Lily! Lily you're back!" she cried, hugging me tight. I was always surprised how excited they got to see people, and how they remembered names, considering how many guests they meet every year. She grasped my hand and led me to the rest of the group. "Look who came back!" she squealed in Spanish. 11 heads turned to look at me, 9 of whom I knew. After some of the girls had hugged me and pulled excitedly at my hair (I'd dip dyed my dark brown hair blonde and the ombre effect seemed to fascinate them) the one face I'd been waiting to see broke through the rest. My closest friend in Cuba, and maybe in the world, the male lead dancer Cesar, stepped forward and scooped me up in his arms. The girls giggled and the guys raised their eyebrows; everyone thought Cesar and I were more than friends but the truth is we loved each other as friends too much to be anything else. He's one of the most beautiful men in the world, any female - and a lot of males - would agree, but we saw each other more as brother and sister than potential sexual partners. I clung tight to his solid body and breathed in the smell of soap and pineapple, ignoring the comments from any of our friends. He put me down and I looked him up and down, he looked exactly the same as last time I saw him, light caramel skin, big brown doe eyes, a sculpted body with a tattoo of a lion rearing up on his stomach and his hair in the same style it always had been, shoulder length I guessed, pulled back into a ponytail with the shaved underside showing. And of course a bright white smile that could knock any girl off her feet. Not me though, never me. He looked at me too, he took in my pale creamy skin yet to be kissed by the Cuban sun, my green eyes, my petite body, I knew him well and I knew he would have taken in my breasts too had I had anything to show. Being so slim however, I was only a 30A and even in the gold bandeau bikini top I had on with my denim shorts there was no noticeable cleavage. He smiled and stroked the bottom of my hair. "You made it blonde" he said. He'd always told me I should dye my hair blonde. "It's not all blonde," I pointed out, touching the top of my dark brown wavy hair. "It's called dip dye. But it's okay, you can keep telling yourself I dyed it blonde, it's half brown for me and half blonde for you." He pulled me close and kissed me on the cheek. "I missed you," he said. Just as I was about to tell him I'd missed him too the entertainment manager, Domingo, yelled that rehearsals were over until the dress rehearsal at 6. "That means I have 3 hours", said Cesar with a smile. "Let's go for a walk and catch up, you can get me beer from the bar since they've told all the barmen not to give me alcohol." That news didn't surprise me - Cesar Mijares drunk should carry a government health warning. However I did relent and get him one beer and got myself a non alcoholic malt beer as I didn't want to drink while still being tired from the flight, and we walked down the pier talking, and sat on the end. The tide was high and although I couldn't quite touch the water with my toes, the occasional wave washed the bottom of my feet while he swung his toes across the surface. I looked at him and smiled and he put his arm around me. I leaned my head on his shoulder and at some point I must have fallen asleep as I woke up on a sunbed with him lying next to me. "You fell asleep on me," he explained, "so I carried you here so you wouldn't sleep on the wooden pier." I smiled and hugged him. I was starting to see why other people thought we were together. But they were silly, we didn't see each other like that. "Now that you're awake, let's get you back to your room. You need a rest. Come on," he said, pulling me up by the hand. I didn't let go, and we walked hand in hand to my room. "Come in," I offered, gesturing into the room. "We can talk until I fall asleep on you again, you're just that boring," I teased. He smiled, he knew I was joking, and walked into the room. We both lay down on the bed, it was a single but not much smaller than a standard double, and talked about everything. He told me he'd been dating Aubriana, one of the female dancers' sister, but she'd ended it a few weeks ago. I explained to him that sometimes people grow apart and don't feel the same any more and he said he understood, and he didn't love her, and he wasn't too upset about it. I was glad, I hated the idea of anyone hurting my friend. I hugged him tight then looked into his eyes. I could see how anyone could get lost in those eyes. Not that I ever would, I'm just saying, they were so dark, velvet brown, with every emotion and every secret in history hidden in the depths of the smooth darkness.. and before I knew what I was doing my lips were touching his. I pulled back, I knew I shouldn't have kissed him, and I was sure he was going to be upset. I couldn't have been more wrong. His face softened into a smile and he pulled me close and kissed me back. I hesitated for a moment then realised I wanted this, I wanted him to kiss me. I gently touched his lips with my tongue and he opened his soft pink lips and allowed me to probe his mouth and tongue with mine before softly twisting his tongue around mine and into my mouth. It was a long, soft, tender kiss and in that moment I realised they'd always been right. Cesar and I did love each other. After the kiss I looked deep into his eyes. He did the same and I knew he felt the same way I did. "Te amo, Cesar," said a voice that I didn't realise at first was mine. My heart stopped. What a stupid thing to say.. everyone knows guys don't like to be told that you love them.. Would he freak out? Would he run away? Would he ever talk to me again? He smiled softly and caressed my face. "Yo tambien te amo," he breathed. He loved me too? Impossible.. how could we have loved each other for so long and never known? But that's the thing.. he had known. He told me how Aubriana had ended it because he'd admitted he was in love with someone else, and how every time I left to go home he had to take a day off because he was too upset to work. I thought of all the times I'd cried on the plane home, still convincing myself that I was missing my "brother", my "friend". A tear rolled down my face and he wiped it away and leaned in to kiss me again. This time it was harder, more passionate, I pressed myself against him and kissed him back while letting his hair out of his ponytail and grasping it as I kissed him. As I did so I felt him growing aroused against my leg, he only had on thin black exercise pants as he'd been rehearsing and it was easy to feel his semi erect member pressing against me. I moaned softly, suddenly very excited myself, and moved my hand down from his chest between his legs. As I stroked it his manhood stood straight up and begged to be let out of the constraints of his trousers. I broke away from his lips and looked at him intensely. "I want you, Cesar. Let me make love to you, let me take you.." He bit his lip and stared into my eyes. "If you're sure.. I'm yours, I need you," he said in a voice that was somewhere between a whisper and a growl. I answered by removing my bikini top and my shorts, and he pulled the bikini pants down before burying his face in my sex. I wasn't expecting it which made it even more amazing.. he stroked me gently with his tongue, up and down in slow strokes across my clitoris and my slit, occasionally sucking it, lapping up my wetness. As my whimpers and moans of pleasure became louder he got faster, licking and sucking hard on my swollen wet pussy, occasionally using his teeth to pull gently on the lips before continuing to lick me until I came for him, pushing his head into my pussy, shaking and moaning loudly. He looked up at me and smiled before crawling up on top of me and kissing me softly with the taste of my juices on his lips. It was only at that point that I realised he'd removed his own pants, as he lay on top of me completely naked with his engorged penis pressing against my soaking pussy. "Fuck me," I breathed into his ear as I kissed his neck. He used one hand to brush the head of his dick up and down my slit before gently guiding it in. I realised I'd never seen Cesar's dick - but I had a good idea of the size from touching him a few moments before so I wasn't surprised to feel him stretching me. He wasn't incredibly long, he was about 6 inches but it was very thick and I moaned out loud and scratched his back gently as he entered me. After the first few thrusts I became accustomed to the size and wrapped my legs around him, writhing and grinding underneath him as he moved in a fluid motion, more of a rolling motion with his hips than an up and down movement, to give it to me as deep as he could. I'd never been with a man so passionate and intense, he was as vocal as me, moaning and sighing as our bodies slammed together, wetness dripping down onto the bed as I approached orgasm. He realised I was close and kissed my neck passionately, biting gently while he pounded me even harder than he had before. I tightened my grip on him with my legs and let myself go, this time I screamed for him.. I later realised that was the first time a man ever made me scream.. and squirted my nectar over his dick, his balls and the bed. He moaned and tensed his body as I contracted around him and for a moment I thought he'd cum too. "No baby.. I have so much more pleasure to give you" he husked as he caressed one of my breasts before continuing to drive his manhood into me, now moving in long, rhythmic strokes, perfectly filling me and touching parts of me that I didn't even know were there. I was in ecstasy, and before long I was coming again. After my orgasm subsided he pulled his dick out of me and stroked it. It was the first time I'd seen it and I wasn't disappointed. It was thick and golden brown with a few visible veins, topped with a dark pink mushroom head. Perfect.. and I could see he was ready to cum so I told him to lay on his back, and when he did I took him into my mouth and sucked it in its entirety, feeling the head entering my throat but never stopping, I wanted so badly to make him cum in my mouth.. then he did. He tensed his whole body, including his dick which suddenly felt harder and bigger, and let out a low, guttural moan as he fucked my mouth and throat fast and exploded. Hot semen filled my mouth and ran down my throat, the salty, bleach like taste that I usually found repulsive suddenly very welcome. Once he'd finished I licked the last drops from the head of his dick and swallowed hard. Cesar lay on his back, breathing heavily with his eyes closed, his manhood almost flaccid but still occasionally twitching. It was a beautiful, erotic sight that somehow made me fall for him even more. I leaned over and kissed his forehead then lay down beside him. He put his arms around me and I cuddled into him as he stroked my hair. "I love you so much, Cesar Mijares. You're perfect," I told him. "As I love you, Lily Naylor," he replied, nuzzling into my neck.. oh, and it's Lily Mijares now. We married 18 months later, on a beach in Cuba, and never looked back. I guess sometimes there really is a happy ever after. Te Amo "I'm so rude." I apologized. "This is Kendra, we go to school together, Kendra this is Logan, he comes into Lila's." "Well" she said," you ARE going out with us tonight Isis, right? I think you'll really like Eric's brother, I think his name is David ,he's kind of nerdy like you." She joked. "I'll call you later" I said, never taking my eyes off Logan. "If you don't want me to leave you alone with him, I understand." She said in a nervous whisper. She was still not catching on to the fact that he appeared to pick up on everything. "I'll call you tonight" I said giving her a slight nudge. "It was nice to meet you Mr. um..." She trailed off staring down at her pink Sketchers. Logan looked her over and licked his lips. "Same here Sweetheart." He gave her a lazy stare. I found myself feeling a little jealous of the way he was eyeing her. She walked away briskly turning around to give the universal pinky and thumb "call me." I waved goodbye and turned to Logan. His hair was wild and black. He wore a red and black plaid flannel shirt with a white ribbed undershirt, there were dog tags around his thick neck. He wore faded boot cut Levis that looked like they had been painted on. I felt foolish for staring. I shyly looked down at the sidewalk. "Isis, eh?" He said slyly, looking me up and down. He made me feel like covering up and getting undressed all at once "Yes." I answered quietly. " Egyptian Goddess of Magic and fertility." He purred. "Yes." I spoke again quietly, feeling very exposed all of a sudden. I was surprised he knew what my name meant. Most people thought Isis was a queen. Not that he seemed at all uneducated, it just didn't seem like something that would interest him. "You a Goddess, Isis? He touched his tongue to the side of his mouth. He made such a simple act look so obscene. His voice was a combination of velvet and gravel, all the time dripping with lust. "No, my Mom was a Hippie." I was almost embarrassed by my answer,even though it was true. He laughed and it rumbled deep in his broad chest. "Well, Isis ...darlin', sounds like you already got plans for the evening." He winked at me, mounted his Harley and started it up. It was strange how his bike dropped so low when he sat on it. He was a muscular guy but it didn't seem that he would weigh that much. I stood there for a split second. "Yes, Logan, I do." I said in a voice that I was unsure of where it was coming from. I climbed on the back of his bike and wrapped my arms around his waist. I buried my face in the hair at the back of his neck and drank in his scent. I let out a soft moan and I heard him chuckle. I was still not sure how he could have heard it. We rode what seemed like forever. I had never been on a motorcycle so I was a bit nervous at first. The longer my body was pressed against Logan's the more safe and relaxed I felt. I felt like I was pressed against a wall of muscle, his body was hard as steel. We stopped at a roadhouse bar that seemed to be in the middle of nowhere. He held out his huge calloused hand and helped me off the motorcycle. Then he put his hands on each one of my hips and guided me through the door. It was much different from the college bars and cafes I went to occasionally, maybe twice a year. I knew I looked really out of place and I felt like a Martian. There were Bikers, Cowboys, people who weren't that much different than Logan, even though he stood out more than the others somehow. There were a lot of pretty women there but, they looked like they had been around the block a few times. Most of them smiled and waved at Logan. I wondered how many had the pleasure of spending the night with him. The place was a collage of tattoos and tube tops,scars and jean cutoffs. With his hands still at my hips he guided me to the bar where we sat side by side on stools. He put his hand on my thigh and I could feel it's warmth even through my blue jeans. He nudged the side of my face, tickling me with his whiskers. I felt my face flush. "Don't be nervous beautiful, just regular folks in here, besides ain't no one gonna bother ya, yer with me." I wondered what sort of reputation he had amongst the people in the bar. He slid his hand a little further up my thigh and suddenly I wished I had worn a skirt. He kept tickling me with his sideburns and I becoming more hot for him by the second. "What 'r drinkin babe?"He growled a little in my ear still rubbing my thigh. "White Zin." I said breathlessly and he chuckled softly. Logan called out to the bartender. "Hey,Bub, pink stuff for the lady, and I'll have my usual." The bartender, was a very obese biker with a long red beard,and while he didn't look especially friendly, smiled a big smile, nodded and brought first my glass of wine and then Logan's usual, which happened to be a fifth of Jim Beam. Suddenly I didn't know if I felt safe anymore. I started to wonder if I should in fact call Kendra. Have you lost your mind? You're gonna get on the back of a motorcycle with a man who drinks whiskey by the fifth? He slid his hand even further up my inner thigh till there was no thigh left. I thought I might leave a wet spot on the bar stool. I squirmed on the stool. He planted a very light kiss on my neck, then proceeded to drink his whiskey. We didn't talk much, it was getting loud in the bar. I had a few glasses of wine, and although Logan was drinking Jim Beam at an alarming rate he never once seemed drunk, not even a little. I started to get a little warm and asked him if he would walk with me outside to get some air. "Not gettin' sick on me now are ya little girl? " He whispered. "No,I just don't want to get that way." I said. "Alright darlin." He smiled once again guiding me by my hips as we stepped out into the crisp spring air. I instantly felt better. "How ya feelin?" he asked with a concerned smile. "I feel fine now." I told him as I stumbled a little closer to him." "Not drunk are ya, kid?" He raised a thick black brow. "No, a little tipsy though." I laughed "How is it that you aren't?" I had to ask. He didn't answer my question, instead he pulled me closer to his broad, muscular chest. He was only a little taller than me but there was something about him that was very dominant. He was so strong. I felt so weak in his arms. He lifted my chin and claimed my mouth with his, gently but firmly parting my lips with his tongue. I moaned into his mouth and he growled into mine. He palmed my rear end with his large hands and pulled me tighter still. I could feel his massive cock pressing against me and I ground my hips into it like a woman who hadn't been touched by a man in years. In fact, that is exactly what I was. "Ugh grrrrrrrrrrrr" He grunted and growled deeply "Sure seems like you need this pretty bad girl, when was the last time ya had a man in yer bed?" "Only once two years ago." I panted throwing my head back exposing my neck for him. He nipped and bit at my throat making me pant even harder. He moved back up to my lips and kissed them hard ,nibbling with his sharp teeth at my bottom lip. "Mmmmmm, he growled, You taste like strawberries or somethin.'" "Lip gloss" I said still panting. "You taste like whiskey and cigars." I licked the side of his mouth. "Ya like that honey?" He grunted. "That's what a man should taste like." I said out of nearly out of breath. "How do ya know darlin',didn't you say you only had one?" He raised an eyebrow at me. "He was nothing like you." I couldn't believe the way I was talking. He brought out something in me that I didn't know existed. I started undoing his belt, failing miserably at unbuckling his huge buckle. "Take it easy honey, now if you were like the women I'm used to taking behind this building then givin' it to ya right here wouldn't be a problem, but seein' as how you might as well be a virgin, I think we should take this elsewhere, that is, if you really want this." "You know I want this Logan, I know you can tell, I want to be one of those women you take behind the this place, you could take me anyplace but please, just take me." I begged. There was a hint of arrogance in his voice when he said, "Your place." One again I found myself with my arms wrapped around his well muscled body and my face buried in his hair. This time I was more nervous than before. What should I expect, what should I do? We arrived at my building. He parked and we made our way up stairs. He was behind me and gave me a hard smack on the ass. It stung but felt so good at the same time. "Now you, get on up the stairs or I might have to ta do ya right here." "Oh god" I sighed as I put the key in the door. We walked in and I flipped a light on. "Bed, now." he commanded. I sat down on the edge of my bed. All of a sudden I was not so bold as I had been in the parking lot. Maybe reality kicked in. Maybe some of the wine had worn off. He was so intimidating. I waited anxiously for what would happen next. I knew now was not the time to back out. The dark look in his eyes told me that it wouldn't have made any difference. He would have me, all of me, tonight. He sat next to me and growled deep in his chest "You ready for me girl? I ain't no college pretty boy." "Yes" I said almost inaudibly, but I knew he heard me. He turned my face to his and planted soft kisses on the corners of my mouth. His breath was hot and strong with the whiskey he drank and my head started to spin. He tilted my head back and covered my mouth with his. His tongue was rough against mine and his grunts and growls vibrated it. I moaned softly as he removed my sweater and slid a calloused hand under my top. He massaged my breast with one hand and went for my jeans with the other. "You smell so sweet, I could smell how wet I got ya, the first day I met ya, I knew you needed some hard lovin' from a real man." I was losing it fast and knew I should be doing something with my hands. I sunk both of them into his hair and deepened the kiss. He pushed me down onto my back and slid my jeans off. They lay crumpled and forgotten on the floor. He leaned over top of me resting on one elbow and slid two thick fingers into the side of my soaked panties, rubbing me gently at first in a circular motion "I'm gonna slide a coupla fingers in yer little pussy now sweetie." He whispered. I moaned softly and tossed my head to the side. He slipped one finger into my wetness and then a second. He felt me tense. "Shhhhhhhhh...it's alright girl, spread 'em a little more for me." I did as I was instructed. He then peeled my soaked panties off and they too were forgotten. "Taste as good as ya smell darlin?" He spoke softly, his lips brushing my ear lightly. God,what is he saying? "Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh Logan" was all I could mange to say as he knelt in on the floor at the edge of the bed and pulled me closer to his face. I felt his mutton chops tickle the insides of my thighs and then I knew what he was saying. "Oh God, no." I gasped. "Oh yes, honey." he growled, his breath was hot on my throbbing pussy and I felt his rough tongue slide up and down my slit.He pressed his tongue against my pulsating clit. I started to squirm but he had my thighs pinned down hard enough to leave bruises. "You ain't goin' anywhere, I ain't done."He sucked, licked and bit lightly with his teeth and I found myself pushing my hips upward and then I lost any amount of control I had left and my whole body shook. I moaned like a whore, at least what I thought one might sound like as he moved back up my body. He took off his flannel and then the white undershirt. It was a sight I had been fantasizing about for the past week. He had a barrel of a chest, covered in coarse black hair, it was damp with sweat. The dog tags still hung around his neck. He spread my legs roughly with his knee and settled between them, his hard on still confined by his tight Levi's. With an expert flick of his wrist his buckle was undone. "See that's how ya do it darlin." He whispered softly in my ear. My head was tossed to one side and my lips were parted slightly. My body was aching for him, I knew what was next. I unconsciously spread my legs wider apart "That's it girl." he grunted. He pulled my top off swiftly and leaned in to kiss me again. I could taste and smell myself all over his face. At one time the thought would have disgusted me but combined with the taste of him, it was delicious. Now he hovered over me,one hand guiding his throbbing cock toward my aching center. "Grrrrrrr, you're ready now." He wasn't asking me, he was telling me. He was at my entrance and he began to thrust into me and suddenly stopped. I was panting and pawing at his chest,flickering my tongue out to get a taste of the sweat dripping from his big, hairy ,chest. "That boy didn't pop your cherry girl?" He smiled that same cocky smile I had seen a few times already tonight "I...I don't know." I sobbed. He was already stretching me and it there was some discomfort, but I still wanted it so badly. I rocked my hips upward and this was all the encouragement he needed. He held my arms above my head with one hand and spread me wider for him with the other, never withdrawing himself from me. "I won't lie to ya, this is gonna hurt ya, best to make it quick honey." With a quick thrust he was in my quivering pussy to the hilt. I cried out and tears streamed down my face as he forced his cock into me. He stayed still inside me until I calmed down a little. "It's alright sweet darlin' I'll break ya in real good." He was panting now and started to pump in and out of me slowly, brushing my cheek with his muttonchops. I moaned "Ohhhh Logan, please, you're hurting me." "You don't want me to stop, you need this, I can smell it." he growled. He can smell it? I let go and let him have me, the pain eased a little and I started to move my hips against him. He kissed me roughly and bit at my nipples. He started to pump into to me harder and faster and there was more pain and then an orgasm ripped through my body, causing me to convulse. There were so many sensations coursing through me. I felt his tongue,his teeth, the hair on his chest rubbing against my breasts, causing my nipples to stiffen even more. He sped up his thrusting and grunted "So tight, fuck, here I come baby." I felt him pump his hot seed into me and I sobbed. It was pain, pleasure, it was everything. He rolled off of me and lay down on his back. He had an arrogant look on his face and whispered,"You alright, little girl?" I didn't speak I just lay my head on his chest and started playing with his dog tags. "What does Wolverine mean?" I asked as I toyed with the chain around his neck. "It means, I'm an animal." He said quietly. "You are not!" I shot back. He looked so sad, and I felt sad too. He was anything but an animal. He was all man, and I was sad, because I knew he wasn't the kind of man to stick around long. I knew there was no point, but I said it anyway. "You know you can stay as long as you want." He looked into my eyes and said "darlin',I can't stay no place too long, how 'bout I come see ya when I get back." He kissed me lightly on the lips and sat up. He lit a cigar stub and pulled his jeans on. "Get back?" I asked. "Gotta go North for awhile, Canada." He growled something else I couldn't make out. I watched him finish dressing and I threw on an over sized T shirt. "Want some breakfast?" I hoped he'd say yes .Please say yes! "Next time baby doll." One last soft kiss and the next sound I heard was the pipes of his Harley. My eyes started to tear up a little but I knew I would see him again. I didn't know when, but I knew it wouldn't be the last time I saw Wolverine. Trying very hard not feel too sorry for myself I made my way back into the bedroom. I wrapped myself in the sheets that still held his scent .I slept peacefully until my doorbell rang at around 12:30pm. I stumbled to the door, half hung over and still looking and feeling freshly fucked "What happened last night? I called a million times." It was Kendra. "Um, Hi Kennie, come on in." "Oh my god girl you look...WOW, it reeks of cigars in here, OH NO! YOU DIDN'T!" Her mouth was on the floor. All I could say was "Oh yessssss, I did!" Te Au Moana I rubbed the back of my tender neck. The hotel barber had done a good job on my hair, even though I'd presented him with months of overgrowth. He'd cut the back and sides tight to my skull, closer than I'd worn it since before I got married. I liked the way it made the gray at my temples seem like it might just be a trick of the light. I looked like my father when he was teaching me to drive; I felt like a shorn sheep. The little hotel patio was well-shaded by the angular lace of the shadows of palm fronds, enough that the prickling at my hairline was psychological, not an actual sunburn starting. Ice shifted and clinked in my glass and the ocean breeze teased the naked tops of my ears. I gave up on even the pretense of reading the book I'd gotten in the airport, marked my place, and set it aside. There's not an ugly place on Oahu, not this close to the beach, and it's a damn shame not to take in the sights. And what sights there were! Through the jasmine dripping off the lashed bamboo pergola, I had a clear view of the wooden sun deck in front of my shaded patio, particularly of a girl in an acid green string bikini and giant, bug-eye sunglasses working on her deep tan. She sat up and rubbed her hand searchingly from her golden kneecap up to her hip and back again, then reached into her canvas tote bag for a spray bottle of oil. The starting spark of orange in the setting sun lit the cloud of tanning oil and it bloomed into fire over her thighs. She stroked her glistening skin, fingertips disappearing into the crevice between her legs. A long lock of blonde hair pulled loose from her ponytail and spilled across her face. She puckered her lips and huffed at the strands unsuccessfully before tucking it behind her ear. She was on her knees in front of me, pushing that same stubborn piece of hair away from her mouth before rubbing the head of my cock against her lower lip. I hooked my thumb under one green string of her bikini top and slid it up to the knot- "Don't waste your time," a throaty woman's voice, to my left. "Sorry?" I was embarrassed to be caught staring. "Your book, Eat, Pray, Love? Don't waste your time. It's a bunch of soccer mom yoga pants navel gazing bullshit. Mind if I share your table? It's got the best view of the beach and the sun's gonna set here in a minute." Wild brown curls, kissed with sun and salt, framed her face. I couldn't tell how old she was, since her sunglasses covered her eyes, but from her throat, the swell of her breasts against the keyhole opening of her blue halter swimsuit, my guess was mid-thirties. I had fifteen years on her, at least. "Go ahead," I gestured to the chair she was already grabbing to pull out. "Do I need to worry that you're going to take my drink, too?" "Is it bourbon?" "Scotch." "Then no. I'd take a margarita, though. Shame not to drink a margarita on the beach, it's what they're made for." She had a lopsided smile, flirty even when she was being straightforward, though she was certainly flirting with me. I signaled the bartender to come over and soon I was brushing the salt from her margarita off the rim of my second scotch where we'd clinked them together. "To pretty strangers in need of margaritas and sunsets," I offered. "To handsome men staring thoughtfully out at the surf," she added. "I'm Stephen." "Amanda." She pushed her sunglasses up to the crown of her head. Her hazel eyes crinkled with her smile in a way that made me wonder how they'd look tightly closed in pleasure. "How far did you get in this monstrosity, anyway?" She grabbed the paperback and flipped it open to where I'd stuck a narrow rectangle of printed card stock a dozen pages in. When she saw it, surprise and shame pulled her eyebrows together. "Jesus, I'm sorry. I thought you were here on vacation." "Can't vacation in the place where you're from," I said, plucking the funeral program card from the pages. "My cousin, Chris." "Were you close?" "Yeah, when we were kids. Real close. Our birthdays were a week apart, we used to have our parties together." I sensed a shift in her mood like the pull of a wave. We'd been headed in a good direction before she found out what I was doing here. If I could resume that momentum, I might have a chance at a pleasant dinner with her. "He had a car and a later curfew when we were in high school. I used to come home on Friday at ten, make sure my parents saw me go up to my room, then shimmy down the ladder Chris kept in the trunk. We got it down to five minutes, house door to car door." "I guess if you have to go to a funeral, paradise is the best place it can be." "Having family on the island has its perks." "How long have you been gone?" "Since I-" got married "-graduated college. Wanted to see more of the world and got my wish. Nice to be back home, though, it's been a few years." "Where's home for you now?" Amanda dipped the tip of her middle finger in her drink and used it to catch salt crystals from the rim of her glass before popping it in her pouting mouth. Heat flashed through my linen pants, and I thought for the first time that more than dinner might be where momentum was taking us. "Now that," I chuckled, signaling the bartender for another round, "is an interesting question." "Is it?" She leaned forward, close enough for me to see the freckles that scattered her nose like the line of shells left at the edge of the surf with the foam also stretched across her shoulders. "I'd say it's a boring question, unless the man is particularly interesting." "Well," I leaned forward, too, only the breadth of her margarita glass between us, "I'm a beach bum, as of last week." "And that means..?" "I'm homeless." I expected her to pull back in shock, but all she did was raise an eyebrow. "Homeless?" "Technically homeless. The sale of my house finalized ten days ago, same day I found out Chris was in the hospital on short time. I was supposed to start looking at apartments, but being here seemed a lot more important. I hired a moving company to pack up everything left in the house and put it in storage until I decide where I'm going to land." "Ever thought about staying here?" "On a night like this?" I cut my eyes at the beach, gone to ruddy fire in the setting sun. "I can't think of being anywhere else. Can't hold anywhere else in my mind too long before what's right in front of me floods it out." "Well, if you stay, you can work on your tan lines." Amanda broke the seal between us and ran the fingertips of her right hand along my jaw. I had forgotten about my pale cheeks -- the hotel barber had taken off my six months of untrimmed beard with short, even strokes of his straight razor along with my hair. Her hand dropped lightly over mine and she rubbed the other patch of white skin, the one my ring had covered for more than thirty years. "All of your tan lines." "I'm here alone. I'm divorced." "I don't need to know that." I couldn't tell if the huskiness in her voice was the continuing riptide of our attraction or some wound I didn't have a clear enough view to see under her freckled skin. "I need you to know. It was important to me for a long time." **** In the elevator on the way up to my room, I put my hand on Amanda's lower back and she tilted her head up to me. Without a thought, I bent down and pressed my lips to hers. When I thought about kissing her all through drinks on the patio, through dinner, through our walk on the wet sand, I had imagined it being a trembling and nervous thing, like being fourteen again, or a thing seized up and shuddering with flashfire passion, the way I kissed women when I was twenty-four. At fifty-four, it seems I kiss women as the compulsion of a natural force, the small gravity of our need pulling our tongues together. Her wild cloud of hair and brassy approach had made her large in my mind, but she was a head shorter than me and her bare shoulders didn't span full across my chest. The only light in my room pushed in from the balcony overlooking the sea. She pressed against me, catching my lower lip gently between her teeth. I pulled her closer with both arms, one hand sliding over her pert, sarong-covered buttocks. Her mouth tasted like the best parts of her margaritas, acid and salt but mostly sweet against my tongue. I kissed her neck to find out if the rest of her skin tasted like it smelled, coconut suntan lotion and the sea. Her moan tickled the millimeter of hair left over my ear. I unknotted her sarong and it whispered to her feet. Pulling the knot loose behind her neck didn't leave her naked, but it freed her breasts into my palms. I had expected them to sag softer into my hands without the support of her swimsuit, but they were so firm I let out a surprised whistle. "Thirty-three and never been pregnant has its benefits," she whispered, amused. She'd gotten that reaction before, then. I circled one brown areola with my tongue and felt the edge pucker before I sucked it between my lips. She slid her swimsuit off her hips and cupped one hand against my erection on her way back up. "Mmmm," she sighed, squeezing through my thin linen trousers and pulling a matching groan from me. "You're so thick. You're going to need to open me up before you try to get that inside me." "If it takes all night." I probed between her legs with one finger. She was slick with arousal and her completely hairless mound, the first I'd ever touched, seemed vulnerable under my hand. "Age comes with benefits, too." "Does it?" She sighed, grinding against my finger before I pulled it away and put it in my mouth. Acid and salt, but mostly sweet. She seemed uncertain of herself for the first time all night. "What's your...uh... stamina like?" "I can come two or three times tonight," I kissed her deeply to punctuate how much I wanted it to be three. "And I'll last a lot longer after the first one, especially if you use your mouth." "Good, that's exactly what I had in mind." She unbuttoned my shirt and stripped me out of my pants and boxers, then gave my bobbing cock a playful tug as she walked out on the balcony. I joined her, my apprehension about being seen rolling away when I saw the hotel behind us was darker than the moon-reflecting sea in front of us. Her hand closed around me again, but there was nothing playful about the way she squeezed me and rolled the skin forward across my shaft. She got on her knees in front of me and licked the underside of my cock in long, flat strokes from the edge of her closed fist to the very tip. She stroked her hand along my moistened cock and teased the head with the tip of her tongue until a clear drop of precum swelled out of the slit. I sank my fingers into her hair and she opened her lips and took half my length into her crooked-smiling mouth. She worked her hand, lips, and sweeping tongue up and down my throbbing cock like she was wringing pleasure out of me. Even as she pulled me closer to orgasm with every dip of her mouth, I felt I was wasting an opportunity by not enjoying the view of the beach. I knew how rare this experience was, but I couldn't look away from her upturned eyes, crinkled in genuine enjoyment of the texture of me sliding through her mouth. She cupped her free hand beneath my balls and teased the hot space behind them with her fingers. The scintillating rush of my orgasm shot from deep in my belly down through the iron core of my cock and I came across her tongue in eight even surges. She kept her lips closed around me with gentle suction until she had swallowed everything and even my dry spasms had stopped. Her eyes were closed, so I felt finally free to look out at the ocean while I stroked her hair. "Would you look at that? It must be later than I thought." "Hmm?" She rubbed her cheek against the front of my thighs and looked up with the beginnings of another crooked smile. "The tide's almost in." Thank you for your time reading my story. If you enjoyed it, please let me know with your vote or, even better, your comments. Tea It's about 8:00 a.m. and I'm to help set up for a white elephant sale at the church hall. I'm wearing a jumper which buttons down the front, a knit top under the jumper, thigh high nylons and comfortable shoes. No panties or bra. My jumper hides my secret rebellion against convention and that pleases and titillates me. I'm assigned to work with a woman I've never met before, Annie. She's about my age, mid-thirties. Very pretty with short, stylish brown hair, piercing blue eyes and an engaging smile. She's dressed comfortably in a skirt and sweater which shows off a nice figure. She wears a wedding band. We chat about our lives, our families and I find myself drawn to her. She has a way of looking at me that makes me feel as though she knows everything about me, even my deepest desires. But I'm not threatened by that, in fact, I'm rather warmed by it. As we work, sorting and laying out things, she finds opportunities to move close to me, to casually touch. Once, as I put out some price tags, she remarks on my ring. She gently takes my hand and lifts it, as if to peer at the stone, holding my fingers for perhaps a second too long. Letting go, she holds her right hand out to me, inviting me to look at a ring from her grandmother, inviting me to touch her. I do. I love it. Later, as we turn and bend and pass things to each other, she stops and tells me my earrings are exquisite. Little gold roses with delicate petals, my favorites. She puts her fingers up behind my earlobe, as if to draw the jewelry closer, to better inspect it. Her nails brush against my neck, I feel her breath on my face. It's as if I'm being caressed and the lips of my vulva begin to part a little, begin to moisten. My heart beats a little faster. The morning flies and it's as if Annie's been courting me, always close, always attentive. I'm flattered, almost a little giddy. By half past ten, we've finished and Annie asks if I would like to have tea at her house. It's very close by, five minutes by car. I'm afraid she heard the little quiver in my voice as I accept her invitation. Her house is warm, inviting, with soft, comfortable furniture, book lined cabinets, and lots of light. We go into the kitchen which is open, very light and she fills a tea kettle, putting it on the burner. While the water is coming to a boil, Annie fills a ball with tea leaves and tells me where to find cups and saucers, sugar and cream. All the way here, in the car, my mind had raced, wondering what might happen. Now, in her house, in her place, my pulse seemed to thunder in my ears. As Annie chatters away about the pleasure of new friends, I wonder if she can hear my heart beating, if she can smell my wetness. I concentrate on setting the table, trying not to let my shaking hands rattle the cups on their saucers. The kettle starts to whistle and I jump a little. Annie doesn't seem to notice as she pours the water into a pretty little pot to let the tea steep. Turning to me, she takes my hand and says she wants to show me the rest of the house while the tea brews. I'm completely open now; there's moisture running down the insides of my thighs and I'm ready for it to happen. I'm sure that Annie knows. She circles my arm with her own as we walk through the rooms, both of us suddenly quiet. We enter a bedroom, Annie's bedroom and stand near the foot of her bed. She says she wants me. I feel her arms envelop me as mine surround her. Our mouths come together and we kiss. Forever it seems, tongues moving probing, searching, such a kiss as I've never had. Then her lips are on my neck, my ears, my eyes. She says she wants to see me and I say yes. Stepping back, she unbuttons my jumper, slowly, all the way down and then opens it. I hear her low chuckle when she sees that I'm not wearing panties. Then in a moment, I feel her fingers on my nether lips, parting me, seeking out my little button. My knees are weak, I feel faint, I'm almost ready to cum now. Her hands go to my hips and gently push me back. As first I sit, and then lay on her bed as she kneels in front of me. Her hands go to my thighs and I spread myself for her. My hands push up the thin material of my top, and fasten on my hard nipples. I feel her hair brush my thigh, I feel her warm breath on my stomach and then on my special place. I feel her fingers part me and then her moist lips on me, probing me. Her tongue is licking me, pushing into me and I think I will explode. As if she senses how close I am and wants to slow things down, I feel Annie move up from that place. Her wet tongue traces a moist path up past my navel and her breath is hot on my skin. I feel her hair brush my right hand and I move it from my breast. Suddenly I feel a warm moistness envelope the soft flesh and then Annie's tongue is circling my nipple. I raise my head and she looks up and smiles at me and says we should undress. We do. Then she gently pushes me back, onto the bed, kneeling down beside me. I close my eyes and sense, rather than see her lean down. Suddenly, Annie's moist lips are on my forehead, my neck, my cheek. Her fingers gently caress my nipples, first one then the other. Circling them, just brushing the tips with her nails. They feel like they are on fire. I look up and she is gazing into me with those wonderful blue eyes. She says I'm beautiful and I smile and raise my lips to meet hers. My head goes back and her tongue is in my mouth while her hand travels down from breasts toward my legs, lightly touching my skin, circling my navel, teasing. Her fingers dance across my belly, my loins. I feel them in my hair as they slide down between my wet, swollen lips. My legs part on their own, opening me to Annie's touch. They brush my clitoris, my back arches and I moan. Annie's hand parts my legs and I feel her knee as it comes down between them. She swings her body over mine. I raise my right leg and I feel her nether hair brush my thigh. I feel her weight and her wetness on my skin. I look up into her face, her hair hanging down around her cheeks. She smiles down as I smile up. Annie's lips part and I see her lick them as she looks down between us, where her sex touches my thigh. She starts to slide up and down my thigh, her head goes up and she moans. Annie looks down and smiles, telling me it feels good. Her fingers are still at the apex of my sex, sliding back and forth. I am so swollen, so wet and she caresses me there. Down her fingers go , almost to the rosebud of my anus. I shiver as they make their way back up, collecting my moisture. They circle around my clitoris. I'm moaning, my backside moving in small circles. I try to close my thighs to draw Annie's fingers into me, but I can't. As she slides up and down my thigh, Annie tells me to wait, it gets better. She calls me baby and her lips come down, on to my breast. Her hand turns and her fingers penetrate me while her thumb rubs my throbbing button. My hands move up and down her sides, along her smooth flanks. Annie's skin feels like velvet; soft, silky. My hands travel back up to her breasts, hanging over my belly. I can see her nipples, pink and hard, swaying below her as she sucks mine, bites mine. My hands cup her breasts and I roll her nipples between my thumbs and forefingers. I hear Annie groan and her noise is mixed with mine. I smell her and breathe her in: perfume mixed with perspiration and the sharp pungent smell of her sex, so like mine, but different. Delightful. My heart is pounding, and I feel so wet, so empty, I want Annie to fill me. Suddenly she shifts her weight from my thigh. Her hand pushes my legs farther apart, opening me wider, when what I want is to close them. I want to draw her fingers into me, filling me. Annie kneels between my legs. Her tongue leaves my breast and travels back down my belly like before. I look down and see a trail of moisture along my skin. My hands slide along her arms, to her shoulders and she continues down my body. I feel her chin slide through my nether hair. It touches my clitoris and I shudder. I look down and see Annie's smiling eyes watching me as her chin touches my wet lips. I reach down with my hands and open myself for her. Her hand reaches up between her legs and I know Annie is touching herself. It excites me to know that she is masturbating as her tongue flicks across my button and dips down toward my vagina. My breathing is ragged. My hands are in Annie's hair, at my breasts. I'm wild. Annie's tongue burrows into me, inside my lips, into my vagina. My hips are bucking, I grind myself into her mouth, her lips, her tongue, willing her all the way inside of me. I see her hand moving furiously between her legs. I feel my own hands pulling, tugging at my nipples. My thighs clench on Annie's head, pulling her in. Then I feel myself starting to explode from down there. Spasms wrack my body, waves of pleasure so intense, the room seems to spin. I hear my own cries and I think I must faint. I'm vaguely aware of Annie, now kneeling straight up. Her fingers moving between her own swollen lips, her palm grinding into her clitoris. Her other hand tugging at her nipples. I hear her crying out just as I am and my eyes close. I arch my back and succumb. As my breathing slows and the spasms subside, I see Annie, her own breasts still heaving looking at me. She smiles and lays down beside me and I ask if she came. She smiles and puts her arms around me and says yes. She asks if I liked it and I say yes. And we kiss. We talk, like sisters, about what we liked, how we taste and how we smell. We snuggle and feel warm and laugh. And the fires starting building anew and then I make love to Annie. As Annie made love to me. And later, when we're both dressed, Annie walks me to the kitchen, her arm in mine. As I retrieve my bag, Annie walks to the table and puts her hand on the teapot. It's cold she says. If I come back the next day, she'll make me a fresh pot. I tell her I'd like that. Tea Rain pounded on the windowsill, drops hitting then sliding down the glass in streaks so heavy Lana couldn't see out. She was lying in bed, trying to read, but her eyes kept drifting back to watch the water falling from the sky. Thinking about the cold storm made her shiver, though it was warm in her apartment, so she placed her book down and got up, walking to the closet to slip on a white, thin t-shirt over her bare chest. Her nipples rose and hardened from the contact with the fabric and her hand wandered down to stroke her fingers lightly over her cotton panties. "Hmm, what to do," she wondered, altogether too worked up to read now. The storm raged on outside, so anything beyond the bedroom was not appealing. Just then there was a knock on the door. She walked over and glanced through the peephole, hoping it would not be someone she had to put pants on for. Smiling, she opened the door wide and embraced the tattooed, brunette girl outside. "How have you been, honey?" she asked. The girl, untangling herself from the embrace, smiled back. "I've been alright. Came to see if you had some tea." The young woman at the door, Alessia, was Lana'a on-again off-again girlfriend. They had been taking some time apart to focus on studies. They made a striking couple, a long, lean, olive-skinned and dark wavy-haired Italian with classic beauty and strange gothic skull and spider tattoos she cared not to hide, and the curvy, freckled bright red-haired college student. "Of course I do, come on in," Lana replied, stepping towards the kitchen to put on the kettle. "Sorry I'm dressed inappropriately," she called back to Alessia as Alessia closed the door and came inside. "Oh. well. I'm horribly offended." Alessia replied as she sank into the couch, leaning back, making herself comfortable. Lana came in from the kitchen and sat next to her. "Since I've started living alone I just can't seem to keep any clothes on," laughed Lana. She turned towards Alessia and leaned in and they kissed. Their lips and tongues hungry for each other. "We have some time before teatime," Alessia winked. Lana smiled back. Taking that as a cue, Alessia pushed Lana's body around so her red locks draped down the edge of the sofa and her ass was up in the air. She slid her hands up Lana's back and it curved as Lana moaned and her shirt slid off. Then Alessia pulled Lana's panties down to her ankles, exposing the pink, soft pussy. Eager, she kissed it then licked in broad firm strokes, in all around it, and sucking and licking on the tip of the clit. Lana could Alessia's warm tongue on her, it felt so good; she started breathing harder. Alessia licked up both of Lana's ass cheeks, then pressed two fingers together and slowly brought them into Lana. She moved them in and out, slick and sticky, then increased the speed. She added another finger, then another so there were four in her, knowing Lana could take it. Lana moaned out and moved her hips, pressing them against and with Alessia's movement. Alessia's fingers filled her up and Alessia's other hand circled on her clit in the motion with the thrusting. Lana grabbed harder to the edge of the sofa, biting her lip, her legs spread and still ass up, her pussy still being pumped by Alessia's fingers. Soon, she could take it no longer and let out a cry, her body buckling and shaking as she came. Lana's juices covered Alessia's fingers. Alessia removed her fingers from Lana's pussy and immediately replaced them with her tongue, licking it all lustily. Breathing hard coming down from the orgasm, Lana lifted her body up and looked back at Alessia. Alessia, lifting her mouth from Lana's pussy, wiped her lips. "Yum" Alessia smiled. Lana smiled back, her cheeks flushed. Lana swung around and grabbed Alessia tight around her body, kissing her hard and passionately. When their mouths separated and they pulled out of the embrace, sounds began to come back into focus. Lana heard the tea-kettle starting to whistle; it was loud, but not quite drowing out the still steady pounding of rain on the windowpane. She stood up, kicked her panties off her ankles to the floor and ran to the kitchen to turn off the burner. "Better not go anywhere, I'll be right back, baby. Now you're the one overdressed!" Lana yelled from the kitchen. Alessia laughed, stripped off her shirt and started updoing her bra. "I'm not going anywhere." Tea and A** The local dish was that he ran a Home for Wayward Youth- sending them wayward, that is. I was sandwiched in age between his two sons, who echoed to varying degrees his devil may care good looks, but neither could channel James Dean quite so well as Daniel. As an exchange student, it was his older son that I met first. He'd seen my confusion in the taxi queue and taken me under his wing, in a "maybe I can score with the American" kind of way. We also had a few classes in common, and wound up going on several casual dates. I was there as a biology student, but I planned to take advantage of my time in Ireland and brush up on my cultural studies. My family was a few generations removed and mostly Americanized, and other than the unfortunate name of Colleen I had none of the sense of heritage that my older aunts and uncles had. I met Daniel and his younger son early in the spring semester when I was invited to the house for a "study date" that was almost certainly not about test preparation. It had been a last minute change of plans that had kept him home, and Thomas was most put out at not having the house to himself. At least I had come prepared to maintain the scholarly pretense and had actual schoolbooks- unlike Thomas, unfortunately. It was his brother Dermot who brought up that little gem in the middle of dinner. Evidently Thomas had taken his book money and spent it out having the craic with his teammates. Having failed to come through with the promised bribe for his brother's silence, Dermot decided to rat him out at what he perceived as the most damaging moment, and clearly the boy had a decent sense of timing. I excused myself to the bathroom and spent an inordinately long time washing my hands, fixing my hair, and watching a spider crawl around the baseboard until the sounds of the argument subsided. When I emerged, Thomas had stormed off to spend the night with a friend, and Daniel apologized and offered me a ride back to my flat so I wouldn't have to spring for a cab. The conversation was pleasant, if a bit strained. He asked about my studies, life in America, and how I was adjusting to the dreary Galway weather. I made the usual polite inquiries about job (history teacher) and hobbies (played in a band- I've yet to meet any self-respecting Irishman who doesn't) and local color (I was encouraged to try a warm Guinness at least once, and to avoid any large red and green crowd of Mayo fans.) Five minutes of silence followed, until we were at my door. I was surprised to find a pair of tickets pressed into my hand, to see his band play this coming weekend, with the tip to find a more respectful date than Thomas. Having had my fill of the local dating pool for the time being, I ended up setting off with one of my flatmates and fellow exchange students, a young blond midwesterner named Ida. The band was fairly decent, a mix of traditional ceilidh and rock and roll, and I was interested to see both Thomas and Dermot take a turn up on the stage along with their father. Everyone on stage switched instruments handily enough, so you could hardly tell who was supposed to be playing what, but the playbill listed Daniel as a guitarist and singer. Dermot impressed both of us with his knack for the squeezebox, and Thomas mostly stuck to the bass, looking through his bangs and trying to sneer. After their set, the band simply boxed up their instruments and wandered over to the bar. Thomas had been avoiding me and was lurking in a corner with the ever-present teammates, but Daniel had a clearer conscience and waved Ida and me over to join them. There was something in the combination of the dim pub light, the sweat from a mighty effort on the stage, and seeing him relaxed and happy that took a decade off his face, and it was then that I realized exactly where Thomas's good looks had come from. In fact, there was an added quality to Daniel's face- or maybe it was just less cockiness- that made Thomas look crude and unfinished by comparison. Dermot, who must have favored his mother, was busy making eyes at 18 year old Ida. She was impressed enough that I was only getting nods and one word answers from her when I tried to draw her into the conversation, so I found myself following Daniel to a small table where we could talk below a shout. Now that I'd realized how handsome he was I was having difficulty keeping my mind on other subjects. Eyes of green, rimmed in gold, looked out from a lined face but shone brightly when he hit on a passionate subject. Mostly this meant football, but he struck me as very intelligent and a devoted, if frustrated, father to his boys. His hair was just beginning to show grey, and it looked like silver mixed in with the reddish gold waves, this evening tamed in a simple ponytail. We'd divided the men into giants and leprechauns, my girlfriends and I, and he was clearly of the leprechaun variety- slender and short, maybe 5'7" or so. His smile was charming and his laugh infectious, and as I was plied with the local ale I was laughing more and more and gradually moving closer to him. After 3 pints I realized that I was near my limit and had to excuse myself to the ladies' room. A splash of cool water was enough to settle me, and I took the opportunity to fix my makeup as well. I had the obligatory red curls, which I preferred to wear short since they were prone to frizziness otherwise. Eyes of turquoisey blue, freckles that showed through any foundation so I'd given up and just wore a light dusting of powder and some pinkish lip gloss. I was short enough that even in heels Daniel's 5'7" was noticeably taller, but I'd also inherited a stunningly curvy figure that made up for it. My breasts were large, but not ridiculously so, at a 36C, and I frequently displayed them to my advantage in v–neck sweaters. The charcoal one I'd worn this evening contrasted nicely with the pale skin. I just couldn't get used to the local dress for the female students- it seemed like everything was worn too low and too tight- and I stuck to my American jeans (God bless Old Navy online) for going out. When I came back my chair had mysteriously moved itself right next to Daniel's, and he was offering to buy another pint. I declined in favor of a ginger ale- not the most popular decision, by his face, but perhaps he didn't realize the alternative was me eventually throwing up in his lap. The thought of my head spending time in his lap send a sudden blush over me from hairline to toes. Or maybe it was the way his leg was now brushing mine in deliberately casual fashion. When he placed his hand on my knee to emphasize his lesson on the finer points of gaelic football, I stopped caring that I was younger than his first born by a year and focused on keeping it there, or possibly convincing him to move it a little higher. I tried to blame it on the drink, but as I sobered up I didn't feel any less giddy in his presence. In fact, when we stepped out into the night, the last of my buzz disappeared with the raw wind that blew right through me. Despite having weathered 23 Vermont winters, I hadn't reckoned on the power of the wind that blew in off of Galway Bay and hadn't brought suitable outerwear. I managed to cobble something together with flannels and sweaters and a windbreaker, but I'd gone for fashion over function this evening and shivered in a fleece coat. Daniel's arm, now flung gallantly across my shoulders to pull me in close, went a good distance in staving off the chill, but even then reality did intrude enough to keep me slightly uncomfortable. A sneezing fit alerted him to my plight, and he cupped my chin in his hand as he peered at the ever so attractive red hue my nose had taken on. "What you need is some tea. Why don't you come on up and I'll make you a cuppa?" My insides melted at the most popular Irish pickup line after an invitation to hear someone's band play, and as I realized he'd already used the first I nearly giggled. I covered it with a cough, and was rewarded with his coat draped over my shoulders. Having his scent and warmth wrapped around me like that went straight to my head, as did the sight of him, arms crossed against the wind, in snug jeans and the popular fisherman's sweater. He wore a green wool scarf and gloves that picked up the emerald hues in his gorgeous eyes, as well, and the ubiquitous navy fisherman's cap. "I left Dermot the car, so he can haul our gear home. Will you be alright to walk another few blocks?" I was confused, since his house was on the outskirts of town, but at that point I would have followed him most anywhere with a promise of balky steam heat and a warm cup of tea and more of Daniel's company. We stopped across from a school, and to my surprise he had a key to an office building, where he led me up to the 3rd floor and into what I realized was his office. It was actually two rooms, one with a desk and the usual books and plants and papers, and then a second smaller room with a loveseat and a fireplace and precious little room for anything else. I saw a toilet tucked into what I'd thought was a closet, as well. "Sometimes I've got to stay here overnight, though as you can imagine I try not to do it all that often." He patted the loveseat, which squeaked and sent up a puff of dust. He smiled sheepishly. "Nor have I had to do it recently." He'd set a kettle on a hot plate on his desk, and pulled two mugs and a tin of tea down off the mantle. He moved around the office, taking off his winter things and brewing tea. I huddled inside his coat on the loveseat, still thoroughly chilled, and watched him quietly. The close-fitting jeans were marvelous, especially for someone used to the baggy American fashion. I felt pity for a generation of women who'd never get to witness what tight jeans could do for the male backside. Underneath the sweater he wore an old tshirt proclaiming his allegiance to the GAA. There was no question that he kept up on his athletic endeavors, and he was still lean and powerful as he must have been in his younger days. The tea brewed, he sat down next to me. The loveseat was small enough that we couldn't help but touch. I had a suspicion that I was far from the first girl who'd sat down there, and that he'd set up quite the cozy little love nest, but frankly, I didn't care. The tea was actually just what I needed, and after a few moments of sipping in silence I was able to take off coat, fleece, and sweater and wore only my jeans and a white v-neck undershirt. Daniel set his mug down and we turned to one another with an air of inevitability. The first touch of his lips to mine spread a tingle through every nerve, and we tasted one another. Slowly at first, then the kiss deepened and he slid a hand slowly up the back of my shirt. Rather than removing my bra, as most of the younger men I knew had done, he moved his hand between us and stroked lazy circles around the nipple through the thin satin of the cups. He was not only a skilled lover, but he was also adept at reading my response, so things started to heat up rapidly at that point. His mouth replaced his thumb at my breast, still covered with my violet bra, while his hand travelled south to knead my ass gently. I gasped when he finally unclasped the bra and took a throbbing nipple into his mouth. Sensing my approval, he pulled off his shirt and encouraged me to do the same. His lips sought mine out again as we stood pressed naked chest to naked chest, but he never took his attention away from my breasts- brushing the nipples until they stood out as hard as diamonds, turned deep pink in their arousal. He rolled them between his finger and thumb, occasionally dipping his head to take one between his teeth or suck it gently. I was dripping wet by then and desperate for him to explore below the waistband of my jeans. By way of encouragement I let a hand slide up his thigh to cup him at their junction and was pleased to feel him jump under my hand. Sure enough, he took the hint, and after unfastening his pants he began to stroke between my legs with a maddeningly light touch. He hadn't unfastened my jeans yet, but continued to tease, adding pressure now and again with the heel of his hand over my clit. I was ready to explode with need when he decided that it was time for the clothing to get out of his way and tugged his jeans down impatiently. His cock sprung out proudly, and he was not afflicted with the Irish Curse in the least. He was probably around 7 inches or so, and a good 2" in diameter at the base. My jeans came off with similar speed, and I was ready to push down my lucky thong panties when he stopped me and pushed them aside instead to slide a finger into the moist heat. That finger slid inside me while another sought the hard nub hidden in the soft folds. When he found it and began to stroke it gently, I cried out against his neck and began to nibble at him. His ears were quite sensitive, and I enjoyed hearing the sharp intake of breath every time I drew his earlobe between my lips and scraped it gently with my teeth. A firmer bite provoked a deep moan, and he moved to lay me down on the loveseat and cover me with his body. This time when I lifted my hips to remove the flimsy thong he didn't object, and we lay naked in the lamplight, entwined. His hard member nudged insistently at the entrance to my overheated pussy, and I sent a silent plea for him to drive forward and fill me with his beautiful cock. He seemed to enjoy teasing me somewhat, and grinned as he tormented me by sliding just the pulsing crown in and out. I squirmed and wriggled, but no matter what I did he kept up a strict pace, never giving me more than just the head. I couldn't take much more, and I reached down between my legs to help matters along myself. The sight of my fingers sliding across my aching clit must have done something for him, because suddenly he braced my legs on his shoulders and thrust deep inside me. I could see in his eyes that he was barely restraining his own orgasm, so I stroked faster in hopes that we would peak at the same moment. I'd miscalculated, though, the efficiency of the position he had me in, and I had scarce found a rhythm when I felt an orgasm explode over me from out of nowhere. He smiled a devilish smile and slowed his thrusts a little bit, but I was determined that he'd have to fight to keep the upper hand. I withdrew my fingers and traced across his lips with them. They left a trail of moisture on his face, and the musky, coppery tang filled both our nostrils. He opened his mouth to suck my finger expertly, tongue circling to lap up every drop of my juices, and was reaching for the second finger when I slid it into my own mouth instead. I made a great show of licking it clean as well, and his eyes widened. Suddenly he began to thrust like a man possessed, and one well timed bite on his earlobe was enough to send him exploding over the edge of his own release, and fill me with his hot seed. One flick of his thumb against my clit sent another orgasm shuddering through my frame as well, and we lay there sated and sweating on the dusty couch. *** After that evening, he developed a sudden need to work late that coincided with my sudden need to "study" at the "library" in the evening. Neither my flatmates nor Thomas, who'd resumed speaking to me and would occasionally ask me to join him out on a date with no success, caught on, though I think that Ida and Dermot, now an item, were beginning to put our absences together when it was time for me to return to the States. We'd never spoken of anything beyond the end of the term, so I wasn't surprised to receive a chaste farewell hug (granted, it was the morning after a night of ferocious farewell sex) and a flowery card with no mention of any future contact in it. I had his phone number, but what was there to say? I wasn't in a position to return and find employment, and until I took a few more classes the grad program at UCG was out of reach as well. I also couldn't fool myself into thinking that I'd make a socially acceptable stepmother to a man a year older than myself, and I doubted I was meek enough to resign myself to a lifetime of secret trysts. I attached myself to a local high school, helping out in the honors biology lab, and went on the occasional date with the regrettably accentless men that I met in classes or at bars. If anybody had known me well they might have noticed a tendency to favor long, wavy gold hair and green eyes, and I was often bored to pieces by men my own age and their constant jockeying for status. For the most part, I preferred to spend my nights at home studying and daydreaming. I was tossing a mental coin to decide between the convent and spending my entire tax return on a wide sampling of vibrators one chilly fall morning when I spotted a familiar silhouette leaning in the entrance to the school. "Did you know that there's an exchange program for teachers between Ireland and the states?" he asked with a smile. "I don't suppose you've got a proper bed, do you?" My smile spread from ear to ear. "Come on over, I'll make you a cup of tea." Tea and Biscuits I arrive at your house, the door opens you stand naked behind it. I shut the door behind me and fall into your warm embrace. Your hand caresses my hair making me tremble from head to toe. You tell me to go into the bedroom, undress, kneel on the floor and wait for you. I do as I am told, I wait on the floor, kneeling, my legs spread wide apart with my hands placed loosely on my thighs, my head bowed forward. I wait silently; the couple of minutes that pass seem much longer. When, I hear you enter the room, my heart flutters. Your commanding voice fills my head, "Lift up your hair." I reach round and fasten my hair in a ponytail and hold it away from the nape of my neck with both hands. As, you secure my collar around my neck, I relax. Although I always feel my submission for you, the collar around my neck makes me feel complete. You move to stand in front of me; all I can see is your bare feet. I know what is required of me and I eagerly kiss and lick your feet, showing you my submission, telling you in unspoken words that I am here to please and obey you. I can feel my clit throbbing as I lick and suck your toes, my nipples become hard and I gasp as my arousal increases. I stop and kneel up, eager to suck your cock, but instead of telling me to suck as normal; you grab a handful of my hair and force my head upwards until I am looking into your eyes. You let go of my hair and gently cup my chin in your hand, keeping my face upturned towards yours. "You know that I have something to tell you, don't you?" you ask. I can feel my face getting hotter, a blush forming on my cheeks. I try to lower my head, but your grip forces me to carry on looking at you. "I told you that I met a sub today, didn't I!" "Y-y-yes Sir," I stammer. I can feel my heart beating faster and I struggle to breath, frightened of what I am about to hear, but somehow still aroused. I lower my head as the thoughts in my head start to overwhelm me. "The sub I met will be coming over later and you are going to watch. Look at me!" you command. You give me a little smile and I try to smile back. I start to try to tell you how much I love you, but I cannot get any words out. "Good girl," you whisper, aware of how I feel. You reach your arms around me, pull me close and gently start to stroke my hair, consoling me. After a while of sweet tenderness, you tell me that you had made lunch for your 'fancy woman' and that, it is my job to clean up the dirty dishes. I shudder as the feelings of submission overwhelm me. Pouting I try and snuggle up again, I don't want this closeness to end just yet. "Go now, I shouldn't have to tell you twice!" You demand. Hurriedly, I scramble up of the floor and start to walk from the bedroom. "Stop!" You call out. Surprised, I stop by the end of the bed. "Get down on your hands and knees and crawl into the kitchen." With a gulp, I obey and start to crawl slowly into the kitchen. As I crawl, I can feel you following me. I reach the sink and stop, not knowing quite what to do. "Stand up and face the sink." I stand and face the pile of dirty dishes and glasses that you and your 'fancy woman' had used earlier. I can feel your presence behind me and I turn my head slightly to see you. In your hands is the lead that goes with my collar, my heart starts to beat faster as I try to work out what you have in store for me. You reach over, place the lead over the tap, feed one end into the loop at the other, pull it tightly to secure it and then fasten the lead to the ring on my collar. My head drops and the intense feeling of utter submission engulfs me as I realise that I am tied securely to the kitchen sink! "Now I can leave you to get on with your duties," you smirk. "Thank you Sir," I stammer. With out another word you walk out of the kitchen and leave me standing there with my head still bowed. I am not sure about the feelings that arise in me. I feel humiliated as I raise my head and gaze once again at the dishes, but also a twinge of arousal stirs in my clit as a result of the situation I am in. I want to please you and to please you I have to obey. Resolutely, I fill the bowl with hot soapy water and start to clean and scrub the dishes and pans from the lunch that you had cooked your 'fancy woman' earlier. My mind wanders as I work, I gaze out the window at the trees blowing in the evening breeze and wonder what this woman looks like. What colour is her hair? What did she wear? What did they both talk about? Hundreds of questions bombard my thoughts, but I do my best to clear them from my mind and just concentrate on how much my Master loves me and how much I just want to make him happy. The pile of dishes gradually lessens and I glance around to see if there are any more items that need cleaning. There are a couple of cups by the side of the microwave, from where they had a cup of tea afterwards I guess. I stretch out to try to reach them, but the lead will not reach that far and as hard as I stretch, I cannot reach. Keeping quite, I try to listen to guess what you are doing. I can hear the computer keys clicking and deduct that you are working. I don't want to disturb you so with a slightly shaking hand I unclip the lead from my collar, gather the cups up and place them into the washing-up bowl. Just as I am concentrating to secure the clip, again I hear you enter the room. "Sir," I stammer, "I am so sorry but I just had to reach..." Coolly you stroll over to my side. "Put both your hands on the edge of the sink, spread your legs out wide and keep them straight," you command and then you immediately leave the room. My legs start to shake as I am left clutching at the edge of the sink. I am clutching the sink so hard that my hands start to hurt. I feel so bad and naughty, what was I thinking to undo the lead? I do not know what you will do to me. Will you just leave me here to think about my actions? Or, will you punish me in some other way? My head is whirling and I wish deep down that I hadn't done it. I am punishing myself in my head. I hear you come into the kitchen again, but I dare not turn around and so I keep completely quite and still. "How many strokes of the cane do you think you deserve?" How many should I say? I cannot think straight, and blurt out, "Six Sir, I am so sorry Sir!" "No talking, I can punish you when and how I like; there are no excuses for disobeying me!" I close my mouth firmly and clutch onto the edge of sink even harder than before. Involuntarily my bum cheeks also clinch together; perhaps this will alleviate the pain somewhat. "Remember to call out the strokes of the cane afterwards," you instruct. I nod my head, not daring to speak. Without another warning, the first stroke comes down on my bare arse. A red-hot pain sears my cheeks and I struggle to breath. The pain continues to shoot through the whole of my backside and I struggle to think, to remember what I have to say. How will I endure five more of these? I think to myself. The number five triggers something in my ambled brain and I gasp out the word, "One." The second, third, fourth and fifth stroke come whacking down shortly after the first and there intensity are no less. My lesson has been learnt and you come round to my side and gently caress my hair. My eyes are filled with tears and I still cannot speak, but no words are needed. You are my Master and I do my best to please you. "I was going to tell you later," you say. "But I will tell you now. I have a whole list of jobs for you to do round the house. I want the place nice and tidy for later, for when you will serve us both." It is later on in the early evening and I am kneeling on the floor by the side of the bed. My hands are securely locked behind my back with heavy steel handcuffs and I have been ordered to keep my gaze on the activity that is occurring on the bed. This is not as easy as it sounds, because on the bed is my Master and he is astride another woman. I chew my top lip and swallow down excess salvia with nerviness, but my mouth still tastes of her juices where I had previously made her wet for my Master. I try to watch the couple in a detached way as he pounds his cock inside her while holding her legs stretched wide and open. She is ready to orgasm, my Master nods at her, telling her to cum. Tears spring to my eyes; I don't want him to see, I want to wipe them dry. Even in my distraught state, my clit starts to throb; however, I do not know if I will be allowed to cum today. I cannot watch any more, I don't want him to see my eyes glistening with tears. I lower my head, unable to look. I gasp in pain; the top of my scalp feels like it is on fire! My head is forced upwards, by the powerful grip upon my hair and I find myself looking into the eyes of my Master. "You were told to watch!" A resounding slap across my face makes my eyes water and my ears ring, but all rebellious thoughts have dissipated to be replaced with submission. As the tears start to spill across my cheeks, I show you with unspoken words that I am sorry and want to be good and not bad. Stammering I answer, "Sorry Sir." My Master lets go of my hair, my tears are now flowing down my red and stinging face, but I keep my head up and my eyes open. My Master continues to fuck his fancy woman and I do not have any choice but to watch. I watch as she orgasms again. I watch as he pulls at her nipples, making her squirm in a combination of pleasure and pain. I watch and long for it to be me beneath him. I watch even though I don't want to. I watch because it pleases him. The fucking slows down and finally stops. The woman has been satisfied and does not appear able to relinquish any more orgasms. My Master withdraws from her, stands up and positions himself before me. "Clean me," he orders. I glance down at his cock, which glistens with her pussy juice and cum. I know that I cannot disobey and open my mouth in submission and hesitantly lick the end of your cock. "Get on with it!" you growl and push your cock deep into my mouth. You quickly grab my hair and push your hardened cock into my mouth pushing it deep down my throat. I struggle to breathe while you manoeuvre my head at a continually heightened speed. The taste of her juices being pushed down my throat makes me gag, but I force myself to breath steadily through my nose and carry on sucking my Masters cock. Bile races into the back of my throat as I taste the mixture of pussy juice and yours and her cum combined. I try to tell myself that it is the same as cleaning you after you have fucked me, the same smells and tastes, the mixture of my cum, my pussy, my arse, my pee and your cum. However, it is not the same and I cannot stop myself from retching as I force myself to do as you have told me, to please you. My crying becomes stronger and you grab my hair in both hands and force me to fuck your cock with my mouth. You withdraw your cock from my mouth when you have come and lovingly stroke my hair. "Good girl," you whisper. "Now go and make us some tea." "Yes Sir." You unlock the handcuffs and I scamper away to the kitchen while you get back onto the bed with your fancy woman. I make three cups of tea and bring them back into the bedroom. I am longing to climb into the bed and cuddle my Master, but I am told to kneel once again on the floor by the side of the bed. Silently, I do as I am told, but my heart drops slightly because all that I want is a hug. However, I know that I have pleased my Master and that when the scene is finished and the other woman has gone that I will get what I desire; all the hugs, kisses, reassurances and even orgasms (if I am good) that I need. Tea and Empathy While planning permission was coming through, we started working on - and really enjoying - the quite large garden. Undoubtedly all of this had an effect on how Caroline and I felt about one another, although I can't say with any precision what its ultimate effect was on either or the two of us together. What it certainly did do was force my graduation to the status of a responsible family-home owner. I now wanted to look after my property - and its garden - in a way that was completely foreign to my previous conception of myself. I began immediately to work hard in the garden at almost every opportunity; and I started talking about extensions and improvements to the house, in particular about adding a study, a sun-room and a bigger garage. At last, it seemed I was approximating to the family man with all a familyman's urges - as well as his limitations. Most of this called for good healthy living. Working in the garden no doubt stirred some juices that had had little stimulation in the previous couple of years. One result was that, much more regularly and frequently, I wanted to make love to Caroline. It was part of a familyman's rights, wasn't it? – or, indeed, one of his fundamental responsibilities. But I had still a strange diffidence in the way I approached her - strange especially given the length of time we'd now been married. Perhaps because of the pervasive social attitudes to sex, I always felt that I was somehow being "dirty" for wanting to make love to a woman - even if she was my wife and we were living together within a sanctified Christian marriage. Because they were so unusual, I remember some of our enthusiastic couplings around this time in surprising detail. One Sunday, we were both busy in the garden and, by about five in the afternoon, had been working steadily for three or four hours. It was a warm, pleasant afternoon. The sun was shining. We were in the back garden where I'd been cleaning some weeds from below the bathroom windows, preparatory to planting a new bed of flowers. Caroline took on perhaps a special beauty as a gardener and, as I looked towards her, by chance she moved her body quite innocently in a way that caused a wave of lust to wash over me. I was always reserved in making my feelings known; but surely, I reasoned, she was my wife and it was right and proper that I should want her – and should feel such a compulsive urge to make love to her. I got up and went over to her. Rather shyly, I said, "Do you think we could go in for some tea?" It was like a chat-up line with a complete stranger: "Would you like to come in for a coffee?" She looked at me with a knowing twinkle in her eye and smiled sweetly - but regretfully. "Shouldn't we finish out here?" Clearly she wasn't fooled: she knew perfectly well what I really wanted. If we'd ever dared to use such language in those days, she'd have said, "I know what you really want. You want to fuck me, don't you?" She was right: that's exactly what I did want to do. In suggesting tea, I was being devious as well as "dirty". I think I must have blushed. "We can come back...," I pleaded, "....afterwards." She smiled, "Afterwards?" If she hadn't been worried about who might see her, she'd have kissed me cheekily and added, "After? After what exactly? Tea?" She glanced over to the neighbouring garden. "What about the Hollings?" Like us, our neighbours were working in their garden. "They'll know why we went inside. They'll know what we're doing." "What we're doing..." Her words prompted me to imagine even more vividly what we would be "doing". Now I really did desperately want to hold her, hug her... and, yes, fuck her - no matter what the neighbours thought. "So what? Does it matter?" "We'll have to pull down the blinds... They'll know why..." If I hadn't wanted so much to make love to her, I would have admitted that, again, she was right: it did matter. It would be more discreet to wait until evening when, at a decent hour, we could turn out the lights and snuggle up in bed together, with no one to guess what we might be "getting up to" in the dead of night. This was 1960. The sexual revolution had not yet arrived. Even married couples were still expected to be "proper" and do nothing explicit to suggest that they ever indulged in "sex" together – let alone that they enjoyed it. But I didn't want to wait until evening. I couldn't wait that long. I wanted to make love right now and I could see no good reason why we shouldn't. Caroline and I had our problems over the years but she was a loving, sensitive personality. Perhaps my wanting her so badly roused her a little. More likely, she enjoyed, like most women, being wanted in what was a perfectly natural way. Above all I think she just wanted to be "nice" to me. She thought about it. "OK," she said finally. "I'll go in first. You wait here for fifteen minutes - working. Then you come in too." She giggled wickedly. "By then, I'll have your tea ready." It seemed a long, long fifteen minutes but when I went inside, she'd already pulled down the bedroom blinds and drawn the curtains. The Hollings certainly would have noted that. She'd taken the covers off the bed, curled up in it and was waiting for me. She'd dabbed a little perfume that she knew I loved and put on a light negligee, with just a pair of panties underneath... She greeted me by asking, with a smile, "Would you like some tea...first?" I didn't honour her tease with a reply. I just threw off the shirt, shorts and underpants I was wearing and slipped her panties down. "Mnnn," she teased again, "that was rather rude. You might at least have asked!" "Sorry," I apologised, "may I?" She drew me into her arms. "Please!Please...please just take them off and stick him in." I did as I was told. I "stuck him in"; but I'd had such a raging erection for so long and I wanted her so badly that I went off almost immediately I slipped him so smoothly into her lovely, accommodating body. So I had to do it again....and again... "He" had a lovely time. So did Caroline and so, especially, did I. We never did get back to the garden that afternoon. We didn't have any tea either. When we finally could think about anything but loving, we toasted one another in champagne... The Hollings must have known what we were up to. "We decided to call it a day when you went inside," Paul Hollings told me next day. He didn't say so; but I suspect – having guessed what we were up to - he decided he'd like a fuck too. Tea and Hobnobs with Lizzy I have been living in a custom designed tenement block for the over fifties for five years. There are generally single people living here in comfortable studio flats. They are mainly the more mature shall we say, women. The guys are outnumbered by about 70% so there is plenty of scope if you are still active and okay about contact. It took me about three years to get to know people and now I am having a ripe old time making friends with so many diverse personalities, and there are some very nice characters here. And need I say, quite delectable too and generally eager to make friends to ease loneliness. I have already got on quite well with my neighbour, Joan who likes to fuss me with home made cakes and buns and a little bit of 'how's your father' between, She is about sixty but still able to make it with me about one afternoon per week, when she is not suffering with her lumbago. And I am quite pleased to be of service to her. She is usually very quickly satisfied with a little bit of mischief and a joyful bonding when I gently ride her on her mattress and it is lovely. But now I am with Lizzy, my next door neighbour but one, who is a real chatterbox. On the face of it she appears to be an eccentric and slightly goofy, and yet I feel there is some intelligence there. She must be at least sixty but I find her quite attractive and when she kept asking me in to see her books, she claims to be a children's writer, I have made several excuses to avoid her. But lately I have come to realise her sexuality is still flourishing and thought I would give it a try. After all I am into writing too so we have that in common. Although our genres are quite different. But maybe, just maybe we would have a lot more in common too. And I am always game for a new casual affair. Joan is fine but limited so I soon get bored, but I have a feeling that Lizzy could tick more boxes. Anyway, there we were, sat upon her comfortable couch looking through her books and generally discussing her merits. She was still the never ending chatterbox but I did manage to get a word or two in. I wanted to know who her male visitor was who came regularly on a Wednesday evening. Just curious that's all. He seemed to spend a lot of his time in her kitchen cooking and she told me his name was Percy whom she had befriended at the bus stop. That he was retired chef and liked to keep his hand in and cooked her a good meal. That was as far as I got because she was off again talking about her books, but I got the notion that he wasn't anything special in her eyes. As she spoke to me face to face, she had this way of looking straight into my eyes like she could tell what I was thinking, but all the time she was very skittish and obviously enjoyed my company. I realised I was warming to her despite the fact that she seemed to be not quite with it, but she was a woman who smelt nice, whatever perfume she was wearing and kept her flat immaculate. "I will make a cup of tea now" she suddenly said. "One or two sugars?" "None" I returned; "I am sweet enough" She looked at me and smiled openly and said she would bring in some biscuits too, that did I like hobnobs? "Hobnobs will do fine, Lizzy>" "You are easily pleased Alex, I can see that." Where was all this going I was thinking, just a friendly chat maybe and teas and biscuits, or something else too. I could not imagine that anything would develop because if she was in need, like Joan, of some intimate comfort she was probably getting that from her Wednesday visitor. I had noticed in passing her kitchen window she had been wearing a black bra when he was there. But not for me to wonder why I told myself, just to enjoy the teas and hobnobs and see if I can see Joan later to ease that little ache that had stirred down under. I don't know why, Lizzy had made no move to suggest anything else so I guess it was her perfume that has set me off. It is funny how certain perfumes can affect one's libido. But to think she was placid I had a surprise coming because no sooner had we consumed our refreshment she touched my left thigh in a very compromising way. "I guess you would like me to do something, like all you men like from us ladies?, Percy does" and without hesitation and like it was the normal everyday thing to do, her right hand moved up my thigh and began to work my testimonials. Still chatting about what she planned to do later, she had a new book to write, she carried on massaging me so beautifully, she looking out of the window and doing it like she was doing and everyday chore, but she seemed to be enjoying it intensely enough to unzip me and the lusty feelings I was developing were lovely. "Is that alright, Alex?" she asked in between talking about other things and pausing her touch for a moment. "Just fine, Lizzy thank you." "You have no need to thank me Alex. It is the least I can do because you are such a nice guy, you are one of the ones who at least listens and talks with me." I was thinking; yes when I could get a word in.. "You had better go and wash it if you would like me to do something else that you men like woman to do, don't take me wrong, it is just that I prefer it to be clean and then I can do it better you see." I stumbled to the bathroom with a huge erection leading the way poking through the opened zip The sensual feelings I got from Lizzy was something I had not quite experienced before. It was just her manner and her disposition, that apparently she thought this was the normal thing to do over tea and hobnobs, but I could not help thinking was I taking her - what seemed to be acute naivety, - for granted and was she really aware of what she was doing, and what if it led to something else, what then? I guess I was worrying too much. I decided just to chill and let it happen. It was beautiful, it was different and on my return from the bathroom, there was Lizzy in her black bra and delightful black and white laced panties which clung to her very sexy trim figure beautifully, that already I had the notion to engage with her imtimately. deep and warm inside. I bet that would be very nice. "What do you think Alex?" she said giving me a sexy whirl. "I think you are beautiful" I returned and meant it. To me at that moment she was the most sexiest woman in the world and I was just aching to have her. She nested down beside me, gave me another generous helping of her delectable massage, everywhere and beneath too. "You are so nice Alex. It feels so wonderful and pliable, so big too!" Then she slowly slid down to her knees easing mine apart and settled between taking me by mouth on the edge of the couch, which was so nice. She was Still chattering though between sucking and tasting me, which was so different and yet strangely compelling. I simply eased back and enjoyed. Looking down it was thrilling to see the things she was doing with that very busy mouth and tongue which had just been nattering one to the dozen, and now working my cock like there was no tomorrow. She was a woman that really enjoyed oral and spent a long time just enjoying. When she saw and heard it was getting near to the mark she asked if she could tie me with a handkerchief so that she could do it a little more before we fucked. I was flabbergasted. One, because she seemed to know all about the art of making the divine foreplay last in tying a hanky tight around the root of my erection and two, because she obviously wanted the full finish in all its glory and that was just fine for me. I wasn't used to being spoiled so much and took I took all in while the going was good. In between chatting again about her new book she must have sucked and balled me for a good half hour, in fact I felt a certain numbness there but she still had it on full alert and it was ready for her anytime she wanted it. "Do you like this Alex? She asked stretching my foreskin tight back and probing my p-hole. I moaned feeling the wonderful sensual tease of her tongue there, and felt her wrap her tongue around and around sucking all the while. When able to speak I told her it was a dream. "I am so glad you enjoy me" she whispered." Would you like to fuck me now, I guess you are well and ready and I am well ready for you. She immediately arose and removed those panties in a very sexual way giving me the full zest of her wonderful femininity, especially wonderful for a woman of her age, her red ripe quinny looking all the world like a woman of thirty I'd say. I apologised for instinctively pushing my mouth into it and taking a few advantageous licks and sucks myself. She simply said apology accepted and placed her hands behind my neck encouraging me to work her more with my mouth and tongue. It was lovely. In my mind it tasted of cherry wine and peaches and sweet, sweet honey and I wanted it badly. My cock crowing for it as I bent her over the edge of the couch and took her doggie fashion which she absolutely adored, Her lovely tight bum swaying from side to side working me deep up inside her The fuck was lasting too because in my rush I had not undone the tie which was preventing full penetration but it made for a wonderfully extended working of her and I said when she wanted when she was ready for me to cum, she could untie it. She did just that and could not wait for me to get into the ministerial; position and fuck her with her legs grasping my back. The fuck was even better from the front and we had a real passionate afternoon with a lot more frenzied mutual oral thrills and another deep fucking later on. And still she was chatting, even between fucking. It was just the way she was and I rather got to enjoy it, making it a Thursday afternoon regular date. My Thursdays with Lizzy became sacrosanct. She dumped her chef because she said I was ample for her. Tea and Longing She sits there, quietly watching television, completely oblivious to my wandering eyes from across the living room. They've secretly seen all of her places that make me weak at the knees; bare shoulders, slender neck, collarbones, that little bit of smooth skin just behind the lobe of her ear. All places I long to be close to; all places I would love to touch. I'm trying not to stare at her, pulling my cup of tea close to my lips and hovering there. The steam rising in front of my face as I blow gently on the rim; hot and moist. I want her. If she just looked at me she'd know it. I glance back at the television and try to ignore it. Out of the corner of my eye, she has turned slightly. I can feel her eyes on me like a long, warm breath. If I close my eyes I can feel her lips on my neck. Her eyes are longing. When I ask her if she's ok she turns back to the television. She nods with an almost whispered 'mhmm' and tenderly runs her tongue through her lips. I draw my teeth across my bottom lip and close my eyes. Sipping my tea, I wish that the heat I can feel around my mouth was hers. My whole body could cry for her. She gets up and asks me if I'd like more tea. I say yes. I try to stay calm; click, the kettle's on. I don't even want more tea. I haven't finished the cup I have in my hands. She's standing in front of the kettle with her palms hard on the work surface when suddenly there are hands on her hips. There is a body of warmth pressing itself tentatively against her back. I close my eyes and breathe, taking in her aroma. She hadn't heard me come in. My hands are sliding up her sides, from hips to waist to shoulders. I know I shouldn't be touching her at all; there is a battle going on in my own head. What the fuck am I doing... I can't help myself around her. To my deep surprise, she sinks back in to my arms and tilts her head to the side with a sigh. I bring my lips to her skin and whisper to her. She turns to me, placing her hands on my face. Her eyes never leave mine. Her mouth comes millimetres from my own as she whispers back. When I lean closer and pull her lips into a kiss we both melt. Our kisses are hot and fast, like our hands and our breath. My fingers have found the soft skin of her stomach under her top. They are sliding over her flesh like it's the last thing I'll touch before I die; I almost worship it. Her skin pimples under my touch; I can feel her body shiver with every movement I make on her. Our lips are locked; her hands fast on the back of my head, her fingers wrapped up in my hair. I can't stand it. I tug at her jeans till they are loose enough to slide down her slender legs. Her pants follow. When I grab her under the arse and lift her she squeals and holds on tight around my neck. Pushing her up on to the kitchen units, I slide my shoulders down between her soft thighs and kiss her navel. She supports herself from falling forward with one hand and grasps at my head with the other. My lips find her wet and wanting. Wet and delicious. I bring my tongue to her and she lets out a long, lustful moan. The hot, moist contact between the flat of my tongue and the contours of her cunt is heart stopping. My world feels like it's falling through the sky; I'm literally on my knees, begging for her pleasure. She pushes me away and slides down from the unit. Kicking completely free of her jeans and pants, she grabs my hands and pulls me to my feet. We spin toward the wall; her body slamming me hard against it. Her fingers sliding down my jeans, down my boxers, down to where I'm soaking through. My jeans and boxers are hanging down around my knees before I realise, and her fingers have found their way, far too easily, inside me. It's a rough fuck. It's a wanting, long awaited, rough fuck. She's deep inside me, and I'm legless. She won't let me fall; pressing me hard against the solid concrete wall of this old building. She'll take me here; I'm not moving till I'm done and I know it. I wonder how many other fucks have taken place in this little nook. We're leaving our own mark - a little bit of shady history, right here against this wall. It doesn't take long before I'm arching my back and shuddering with ecstasy. I've been aching for her all night. I feel myself tightening, our chests heaving together. Our previously perfect rhythms becoming out of time as my body cheats me and sends rippling waves of orgasm everywhere. I moan as I cum with her kisses hard on my mouth. There was almost a moment of calm; a fleeting moment of lingering gaze and soft breaths. But there couldn't be and we both knew it; nothing was said. Composed, I returned to my place on the sofa. She came in a few minutes later with two fresh cups of tea; placing one down in front of me. "Thanks." She smiles at me and sits down in her favourite chair. She's watching the television; if you seen her now you'd never know what debauchery had taken place before this moment. I lift my tea to my lips and hover there. My eyes find her bare shoulders, her slender neck, her collarbones, that little bit of smooth skin just behind the lobe of her ear. They are all places I longed to be close to; all places I'll never touch again. Tea and Rain I have an umbrella, but it's no use against the rain, keeping only the top of my head dry. The street is mostly deserted and the figures rushing past, into doors, cars, down other streets, don't seem to notice each other, including me. As I stroll south, a block or so away, a man in a hooded cloth anorak comes into view, and he's strolling in the same unhurried manner. Maybe he too has given up the resistance, and is caving to the pleasures and punishment of the elements. I watch him with directionless longing gripping my mind, and he sees me. He has a look of recognition on his face. I know him vaguely, but please can he be happy to see me? Could he please just see me as being same? I smile the pained smile of a wet, breathless girl, and he answers the assured smile of a man better prepared against the elements. Will he judge my comparatively unfortunate state? Or will he see my exposedness happily? His face softens with playful pity, and in a different life I might have been too proud to plead with my joy, but now I ask him wordlessly to take me in. And he crosses the street to meet me. I breathe relief. He hums assertion and warmth. "I know you," I say. "Yes you do," he answers. I extend my umbrella to share it with him, and he pushes it away, "You keep your umbrella." He smiles, I doe-eye at him, and resignedly smile back. He hooks my arm with his and turns me around easily, and I back track. Where, he wants to know, was I just heading? Truly nowhere. He nods shrewdly, and I offer that I was looking for anything. He says I've found it. We walk closer together. If he's unnerved by any of this, it doesn't show. If I am, and I am, I'm fairly certain it does. We walk one block trying to talk, but the cool rain is ravaging my voice into breathlessness. He is fine. He pulls me closer still. The next block, we just breathe, match steps, fit together, anticipate. We cross the street again to his apartment house. He unlocks the door, I fight my umbrella down, he takes it, holds the door open for me and I pass through. He says quietly, "this way." I follow, every move timid, but bold in making them at all. He moves fluidly, assured of his upper hand, his territory, his very assuredness. His eyes reply softness to my micro-fits of worried or apologetic movement. There is love. Love to me, curiosity to us both, concealment by him. His base intentions on hold until further inspection. We walk the steps to his door, he let's me in, and I step through the door and follow his instructions and accept them as welcoming. The game changes here. I am more than a guest, I'm a tiny or maybe large slice of what-will-be that's ambled into the world he controls. My wet jacket goes on a hanger and is carried off somewhere. My shoes are abandonned, my hair meets with his bath towel which smells strongly of him, damp, and now me and rain. "You want tea," he states more than asks and, "please, yes, thank you," I reply all feminine humility. He warms and his movements turn more graceful. I warm and my movements turn more affectionate. I follow him, watching. He leads, aware. We reach the kitchen, having spanned no more than a dozen significant feet. Destiny blots us in like fog we feel. And in the kettle he's filled, the steam begins to rise and curls through the fates hanging in the air. The tea is magically imbued, or will be shortly. I stand closer, for being cold, for seeing him, for wanting to touch his soft warmth. He stays still, allowing me, and welcomes my shivering damp as necessary neediness. I wait and he continues with the tea, my encroachment noted with a tug at the corner of his mouth. I need him far more than he needs me for the moment, but the moment will pass. He wordlessly enjoys it. We speak our names, his as if a direction, mine as if a request. He pours, fiddles, drawers opening, stretches to shelves, lunges to table, and a hot cup lands gently in my hands, he makes a circle with his finger, and as if steered by this, I turn to find the way to the coffee table. From behind me, he reaches beyond me to place his cup. I wait. I'm soaked through. He produces an invitation into him by way of a blanket from his bed placed over my shoulder, and he breathes suggestively close to my ear. He could say 'undress'. He won't, but the thought charges the room the instant we both think it. He clears his throat and sits in front of my teacup. I sit close. This is success he and I both sink into easily. The tea is too hot to drink. Kiss or talk? We glint, and silently smile too aware to do either. He places an arm around my shoulder. Too easy, just perfect. I curl into him and he surrounds me. I turn my face to him too quickly, his eyes say. He will make me uncomfortable. I demure away. He squeezes me with the slightest joviality. This would be where he makes light, and I shrink, but there'll be none of that. We'll be lovers for how long, we wonder. Many steps ahead of ourselves, but we'd never admit something like this. He turns his face to me, and I wait. We lean closer, our lips graze, and we move deeper into one another. Sweetness like this will find you once in your life only. Careful. This is where tea is left, suggestions of stripping away the rain, still against my skin, are made. Watching, exposure, trepidation and excitement slip in. I feel warm bubbles swell in my cunt, opening me, and I sense the burning and hardening coming from him, forcing him on. We become all giving and taking. My clothes peel away and my cold skin begins to feel more slick and silken where it had been burdened before. His eyes peer into the colors in my skin, locking on to the whiteness here, pupils swelling to the pink shades there. I bore searing looks into the denim swelling on him. Blanket or man? He chooses. How long does he watch? When does he seize? His fingers stretch and his hands close on my hips. Wet, his nerves light up. Wet. The bubbles of warmth are multiplying inside me. He knows. And I ache instantaneously. Where my chills render me weaker, his burning renders him stronger, and we move together. Any withholding from me and we have tiny moments of awkwardness. I relent and it's ease and thunder together. How I move from standing to spread out on the blanket, on the couch, under him, is a film he can play back in his head, but the movement happens with my barely being aware of it. My body is begging him. His doesn't need to beg. I watch in fear, awe and lust as he pulls his shirt over his head. My eyes trying to take it all in. I think of myself for a moment and my body volunteers itself. My hands meet his skin. My cool trembling touch surprised that it generates more heat from him. He unbuckles, unzips, pulls away, and his face bobs up in unison with his cock. He plunges in and I buck upwards, but the collision is sharp and painful. I gasp and there's more. I move to try to spare the pain, but luckily there's only more. He stabs out sounds from me, and I can't regain myself. His merciless assault has me pressing into the sofa away, but soon wrapping around him. I can't move away from it. My arms and legs and breasts and cunt spread around him and the stab becomes fucking. And we pound together, my pain heating into cumming. I cry out and he responds with shudders, vengefulness in his breathing, chiding in his moans, desperation to hold me down and master me. I hand him my desire, and he consumes it. We kiss, and he keeps up the fucking. And just as I ease into it, he's out. The same blind power that guided me to my back, brings me to my knees, and he rounds behind me and the fuck is a stab again. He wants to keep it this way, but my pussy bargains for fucking with every blow. He beats sounds out of me that I have no control of, and it commutes from gutteral wails to high pitched cries. He rallies to each of them pounding harder. He pulls away again, and I'm relieved and destroyed, and he lays back and my mouth follows. I lick my cum from his shaft and my mouth closes over him, and I suck. My mouth countering the pressure of his fucking in response, and he breathes disbelief. I suck harder until I feel him push into me, and my mouth finds a rhythm that makes him shudder. I feel him tense in my mouth and I feel the blood rushing into his veins against my lips. The taste of my cream and sweat gives way to the warm salt of his pre-cum, and my mouth softens, my mind vacates, and my sucking becomes fucking again, my mouth as sweetly thoughtless as my pussy, and he pulses into me, quiet exclamations yielding to moans. The moaning moves up his throat and opens as his cum moves up his cock and surges silently into my throat. I move longer and slower and he jerks into me, my mouth closing sympathetically over his cock, he needs warmth, and I stay motionless as he moves, spasms of orgasm subsiding. Tea Ceremony The Ancient lowered her cup. "Of course, there is more to this particular tea ceremony than merely drinking tea," she whispered, her kimono parting to allow Taiju a quick glimpse of her spotted but seemingly firm brown breasts. Taiju suspected as much. That was the reason he had climbed for five brutal days through the unforgiving mountains to reach the witch's aerie. It was told that Ancient had uncovered the secret of life and death. Some said she was 200 years old. Others said 1000. Most people of course said she didn't exist. No one who returned had ever been able to find her. The deep creases surrounding her eyes seemed to twinkle as she pulled the kanzashi from her hair, spilling her silver tresses down her back. "If you wish to gain eternal life, then we must drink each other," she whispered and shrugged her shoulders, spilling her silk kimono onto the floor. She stood, shameless before him in her nakedness. His eyes were drawn to the white tuft crowning her sex. Despite her wrinkles, her body was lithe and her flesh was remarkably firm. "You must be my futon," she said, pulling the obi from his kimono and kneeling to remove his undergarments. His throbbing shaft sprang free. "I see the tea has done its work," she said, running her tongue around the head and then up and down the length of his shaft. "Lie upon the tatami," the Ancient said, gently pushing him to the floor. He reclined, his cock aching for release. He looked up, at her mound and the undersides of her breasts as she circled him before lowering her snow-downed mound to cover his mouth and impaling herself on his nose. As she rocked back and forth, he could feel her moistness, remarkable for any woman, never mind one who claimed to be centuries old. He took her breasts in his hands as she lowered herself upon him, then wrapped his arms around her surprisingly trim body as she slowly slid her mouth down the length of his cock and took his balls in her hands, gently squeezing them as her mouth began to slide up and down his pole at a faster and faster rate. His mouth engulfed her clit, his tongue frantically milking her, slurping down every last drop of the most delectable potion he had ever tasted. He grabbed her buttocks as she began to ride him harder and harder, her clit slamming into his already brutalized nose, urging her onward. Her tongue circled his cock as her head bobbed up and down on his shaft, her right hand squeezing his sac and her left hand probing the unplumbed depths of his ass. Her body suddenly stiffened and she cried out, pouring her warm stream in a torrent down Taiju's throat. She then cruelly squeezed his balls, shoved her finger all the way into his ass, and raked Taiju's cock with her sharp teeth. Taiju could hold out no more and erupted into her mouth, pouring the contents of his balls, his bladder and the better part of his circulatory system into the witch's mouth. They lay there then, interlocked and listing to the symphony of the crickets. Finally, the witch rolled off him. Taiju looked at the silky black hair flowing down her back, darker than the darkest night. Her perfect porcelain skin glowed, brighter than the moon. Her now uncreased eyes twinkled in amusement, reflecting a knowledge hidden to Taiju. Then Taiju looked at his own hand, now a spotted arthritic claw. He watched as his fingers fell off one by one. "This can't be good," he whispered, his last observation before his brain disintegrated. Tea for Two We had been working together for about 3 months when I started to notice Jackie. She was a waitress at the bar I managed and boy was she yummy! A little compact blonde with 36D titties and an ass to die for. We were chatting one night and I casually mentioned I was off the next day and asked her if she wanted to come over for dinner and a couple of drinks. She agreed and we'd meet at my place around 6pm the next day. I bought some steaks and a bottle of wine. I realized my roommate had some over proofed rum from the Dominican so I whipped up some pina coladas as our pre dinner cocktails. She arrived a little after six and we had a few drinks and bitched about work. As the rum started to do its thing, I began to get closer to her, running my hand up her leg. I noticed she was wearing a garter which was holding up her silk stockings and could smell the faintest odor of pussy wafting from under her skirt. My hands massaged her huge tits and we began to tongue wrestle as her breathing became quicker. I boldly moved my hand all the way up her thigh to her crotch where I was surprised to find a lack of panties. I felt around and discovered she had clean shaven lips with just a little Mohawk above her slit. She was dripping wet and nothing turns me on more than a sopping wet cunt. By this time she was rubbing my cock thru my jeans and I was afraid of cumming in my pants so I quickly pulled away and positioned myself between her outstretched legs. I savored the view for a moment noticing she had a massive clit protruding from her juicy snatch. I zeroed in on her bud and began to lick and suck her mound with relish. She moaned and writhed as I brought her to at least 4 orgasms before coming up for air. She then roughly pushed me onto my back on the floor and clawed at my zipper. I helped her remove my pants and she got into prime sucking position. Now I am not the best hung guy on the planet but for just under 7 inches it has satisfied most of the women I've been with. The thing they do enjoy most however is the girth. I've measured it and its 8 inches around so it's definitely more than a meal. She began to tease my cum filled balls with her tongue and jerked my shaft slowly. I could tell she was making this an event. I watched as she brought her mouth to the head and opened wide to envelop my thickness. Concentrating on the pre cum leaking out of my slit, without warning she engulfed my entire shaft in one swoop. My balls tightened and I wasn't sure how long I'd last but man it felt amazing. After 5 minutes of face fucking I placed her on her knees in front of me and gazed at her round ass and shimmering slit. Although some chicks aren't into it I took a chance and drove my tongue into her asshole and rimmed her ass until she was begging for me to fuck her. My steel hard cock was screaming for relief so I wasted no time plunging it into her. We fucked hard for a good 5 minutes until I felt the familiar quivering in my thighs and knew I was ready to blow my load. I pulled out of her hot hole and rolled her over so my dick was aimed right at her rock hard nipples. I tugged at my pud once or twice before my white hot jizz began to shoot from my cock. All the women I've been with are always amazed at the volume of my loads. I could give Peter North a run for his money. As rope after rope of steaming spooge shot out of my dick Jackie moved her mouth up to my cock and began to eat the remainants of my load. Exhausted we fell back and caught our breath before heading out to the club. About a week later, I was at home and my buddy Pete called (also from the bar) and asked if I wanted to have a couple of beers and a smoke. I was into it and told him to drop by around 7pm. He arrived with a 12 of beer and a couple of joints. We cracked a couple of brews and proceeded to get high. After an hour or so we were in a good place and I got up to get another beer. As I closed the fridge Pete was standing behind me and lightly put his hand on my back. "Guess what?" he said. "What?" I replied. "I'm bi. Did I ever tell you that?" Before I could answer his hands were on my crotch and just like that he had my flaccid cock out of my boxers. He put my manhood in his mouth and began to suck me hard. In no time I had a raging boner. I loved the feel of his lips on my cock and it's strange but I had always felt a man would give a better blowjob than a woman because we just know what feels good and what doesn't. I had fooled around with guys occasionally in the past just a quick suck here and there when we'd hang out at the gay clubs. I was close to blowing my wad and warned Pete of this but he just kept sucking until I spilled my seed down his throat. I was spent and he had no intention of me reciprocating so we finished our beers and went out to the bar for last call. Several days later I had heard thru the grapevine at work that Jackie & Pete had hooked up. It didn't bother me at all as we were all fucking each other at the bar so it was just another thing to gossip about after work. The situation did, however, give me an idea. I invited Jackie and Pete over for dinner one evening with the intention of fucking them both. Amidst all the gossip it seemed that apparently Pete had a rather large cock and I was curious to find out if the rumors were true. After they arrived I put some tunes on and we settled into a bottle of red wine and smoked a joint. As we began to relax I thought if this is going to happen I'd better make the first move. I reached over and gently massaged Jackie's massive right breast. As I did so I glanced at Pete and nodded knowingly and on cue he began to massage the left. Jackie said "What're you to up to?" "You'll see." I replied. With that, I ran my hand under her skirt as she started to rub our crotches. Within seconds I was rock hard and judging by the bulge in Pete's jeans he was as well. Pete then took over the lead and got up kneeled beside her and slowly unzipped his pants. He pulled down his tightly whiteys and the rumors were put to rest. His member was at least 9 inches long and although not as thick as mine a prime piece of beef nonetheless. I followed suit exposing my thick slab, and like a baby to a nipple Jackie took us both in her hands and began to jerk us off. Pete and I were both rubbing her dripping pussy as she started to alternate sucking us both off. "Put it inside me!" moaned Jackie as our manual stimulation began to drive her insane with lust. Pete moved under her and slipped his monster tool inside her in the reverse cowgirl position. I pulled away from Jackie's lips and moved to view the action head on. My cock was throbbing as I watched Pete slick cock go in and out of Jackie's steaming hole. I knelt down in front of them and began to lick Jackie's huge clit as Pete pummeled her from underneath. Pete then pulled out and I grabbed his cock without thinking about it and wrapped my mouth around his huge cock. As I sucked him I diddled Jackie's clit and she came, wailing so loud I was sure my neighbors would hear. Deciding my cock needed some attention; I plunged Pete's meat back into Jackie's sloppy twat and moved over so that Pete had access to my hard on. He engulfed my shaft and each time he went down he went a little further until his nose was buried in my pubes. Jackie was still writhing on Pete's massive member and as if planned we both uttered "I'm cumming!" almost in unison. I pulled my cock from Pete's lips and he got out from under Jackie and we both instinctively moved to either side of Jackie's face. Pete erupted first splashing cum on Jackie's cheeks and nose. I soon followed suit but aimed for Jackie's open mouth. The head of my cock swelled up and spurt after huge spurt drained into Jackie's gullet. Pete mumbled "Wow!" as he witnessed how much jizz was spewing out of my cock. All of us satisfied, we lay back on the couch and smoked another dube. This time Pete took the lead and said, "Let's go to the bedroom." Apparently this was just the beginning of our night. Tea For Two We meet as arranged and I am pleasantly surprised by how pretty you are. Not just pretty by also exuding a certain sensuality that I hadn't expected. Perhaps it's just that I haven't before met a woman so open with her sexuality, perhaps it's the slight bulge of suspender belt ties just above the hemline of your skirt. I follow you up the stairs to the cafe you have in mind. Surely you are aware that I'm simply taking the opportunity to ogle your tightly clad arse as you climb. An added bonus is the waft of scent you trail behind - how alluring. Of course I should do the manly thing and take the lead but I'm in your thrall and follow somewhat dumbly as we approach the sparsely occupied cafe and find a table. You turn to me and I gather my wits enough to suggest a table set a discreet distant apart from most of the others, shielded from fellow customers by a short partition and just cosy enough for subtle intimacy. I draw back a chair and suggest you sit with your back to the partition, then sit myself down opposite. I suppose the done thing is to sit alongside one's partner but I much prefer to look at the person with whom I am about to share a pleasurable conversation. Though you are dressed conservatively, you look radiant. A shortish skirt but not so short as to be crude, a light blouse with a delicate cornflower pattern and a small pendant hanging from your neck, pointing down to the cleavage which hints at the sumptuous softness of your breasts. You place your hands surprisingly demurely on the table top and I m drawn to the slender beauty of your wrists. Though you are by no means skinny, your wrists are delicate and I find myself suddenly longing to kiss them. We begin to chat and I nervously tap the table top, every beat drawing my fingertips closer to your. You notice this and I spot your lips open as you give a little gasp and gently move your left hand closer to my right. I stop the tapping and stroke the outside of your hand with my small finger. At this touch we look into one another's eyes. I see in yours a reflection of the desire that must be so evident in my own. The tea arrives; one pot, two cups and the usual assortment of sugar, milk etc. We act like business colleagues while the waitress sets everything down and I take a moment to lean back into my chair. Would you detect the subtle adjusting I have to perform in order to shift my growing erection to a more comfortable position in my trousers? Once the waitress is gone I lean forward and we talk. You tell me about how and why you placed the ad that brought us together and I listen in rapt attention. Your cleavage draws my attention as the skin on your chest and neck has begun to flush in an oh-so delightful manner. Having spoken you now lean back in your chair, taking a sip from your cup of tea and opening your legs just enough to give me a glance of your stocking tops and the soft warm flesh beyond. How I love stockings. That gentle tautness and the enticing bulge at the top, where thigh escapes silk and points the way to the scented valley beyond. Still leaning forward I begin my story - finding Lit, seeing your ad, exchanging emails, phone calls and here we are. As I speak I find myself stroking the rim of the teapot; back and forth, round and round - sublimating my desire to do the same to your breasts, your nipples and your soft slick pussy lips. You get the message though and your open legs grant me sight of your panties. They are delicate, match the cornflower blue of your blouse pattern and are very clearly damp. Oh that I could show you my arousal too! My hand moves from the teapot to your hand and I gently stroke the inside of your wrist. You respond by running the tips of your fingers over the top of my hand - how did you know that I love such a touch? Our conversation continues and our flirtation becomes ever bolder. You sit up and pull your seat closer to the table and I reciprocate. Now your legs are within touching distance and I take a glance about me before gently placing one hand upon your left knee. Though your knee is covered by stockings I can feel its warmth. You shift in your seat and I'm convinced I can detect the odor of your arousal. How can we proceed? We finish the tea and there's a pregnant pause as we look at one another. My hand is stroking further and further up your leg and though we are hid from view by the partition it seems certain that our flirtatious behaviour will be spotted. Still, it is too late to back off and we fall towards one another for a brief but passionate kiss. Your breath is warm in my mouth as you whisper, "Do you think they have a rest room we can use?" With a mock wink I stand and walk over to the cash counter to settle our bill. The waitress who had served us smiles knowingly and I ask her about a rest room. She nods her head towards a door back in a corner of the café and I walk on air as I return to our table. "Follow me in a moment hun. After all, we wouldn't want to attract attention, would we?" You blow me a silent kiss as I walk to the rest room. In mere moments you join me in the surprisingly clean rest room. Aside from the toilet and sink, there is a small table is set into one wall and an open window allows a fresh breeze to cool the room. You lock the door behind you and in a flash we have our arms about one another while we kiss, lips bruising lips and crotch pressed hard against crotch. I feel the mound of your pudenda press against my hard cock, its very softness heightening my firmness. My hands fall below your waist and I fondle your ass cheeks as you stroke my back and clasp me behind my neck to pull me in for a deep breathy kiss. We whisper words of passionate encouragement to one another as we fondle and frottage and undo our clothing. You open my shirt to the waist and pull it from my trousers and lean forward to kiss my chest as I slip my hands beneath your skirt and give your ass cheeks a squeeze. How arm and soft they are; the softness added to by the silkiness of your pale blue panties. Sliding my hand down and cupping the bottom of one butt cheek I allow one finger, the same one I used to circle the teapot lid, to slide along the edge of your panty gusset and slowly find the gooey wetness that lies between the lips of your pussy slit. My finger is carried along on a river of oily arousal and finds the deep, hot heart of your cunt. You moan as I enter you and your hips begin a grinding rotation, as my finger is pulled deeper into your womanhood. As I finger you, you grapple with the hook and zip at the back of your skirt and I have to slip out of you as your skirt drops to the floor. Stepping back I gaze into your eyes and take a slow suck of my finger before undoing my trousers and stepping towards the table by the wall. You pad over, looking at once demure and slutty -- your blouse still buttoned up but your wet panties on display. I am stunned as I watch you walk over; stocking clad legs stepping silently towards me, thighs pale and alluring in contrast to the blackness of the stockings. Standing before me you run the palm of one hand along the outline of my stiff cock, which protrudes from the briefs I am wearing and threatens to sneak over the waistline. As you slide your hand down my clothed member you do indeed pull my briefs own with it and my cockhead emerges from its confinement. "We have to be quick," you gasp as you grab my briefs with both hands and squat to pull them roughly down my legs. My cock springs up and you give it a quick peck as you stand up again -- oh to feel you lips on me again! Pressing yourself against me you rub my cock and pull my hand towards your crotch. "Finger!" you spit. I comply, sliding not one, but two fingers into your panties and up into your pussy. You are so wet, so warm and slick that there is no resistance, no clumsy tangling with your labia. Just a swift penetration and the fierce heat of your cunt hole. With my other hand I slide your panties down and you wriggle your legs as you kick the panties off onto the rest room floor. Then you turn me about so that it is you who are resting your ass against the tabletop. "Now fuck me." I press forward and you guide my cock towards your pussy mound, sliding the cockhead against your clit. You lean against the table and raise your legs as you pull my cock into your slippery cleft. My cock slides along your slit and catches briefly on the rim of your cunt hole before it plunges into you with one thrust. We are fucking. Slowly at first, but the tempo soon speeds up as you hump your pussy towards me and I push back. Faster and faster we thrust against one another and I lean toward you to kiss that oh-so pretty mouth. Your tongue slips and slides about my mouth and you wrap your hands around my back, clutching at me as we fuck and thrust and writhe and grind together. Your moans get louder, as do mine. We are gasping with pleasure and I'm sure we'll be found out but you seem oblivious to anything but the lust that has consumed us. Your legs drop and you slide your ass forward so that your clit can have greater contact with my cock shaft and your moans grow sharper and more rapid. "Cumming. Cumming ..." you gasp. I increase the pace, thrusting and fucking harder and faster as you urge me on. Your hands now grab my ass cheeks as you pull me harder against your pussy, now rotating your hips as you grind your clit against me and push your cunt onto me. We fuck. Oh so gloriously, so urgently we fuck. You slap your thighs against my legs as my cock pistons in and out of your pussy. You moan and I moan. You push and I push. Then we cum. Your orgasm accompanied by a moan which you stifle by biting one of my shoulders and mine by tooth-grinding grunt of pure sexual joy. I shoot jets of cum into you and you ejaculate your sweet scented pussy juice onto me as we lose ourselves in a singular moment of sexual ecstasy. How long ago was it that we had first met for our 'cup of tea and a chat'? How long since we sat at that table? Who knows and who cares? All that matters is this moment, this union. As our orgasms subside we collapse against one another and hold each other tight. You lean your head back though and offer a wry smile and I am once more enthralled. Despite the passion of our lovemaking it is this subtle beauty of yours that has so taken me by surprise and so left me wanting more. I know then that we must have many more such cups of tea as we have shared today.