0 comments/ 79506 views/ 6 favorites Saved by the Belle Ch. 01 By: Sir Galahad I looked at the piece of paper in my hand with annoyance. “Secret Santa” was a custom of long standing at the company I worked for. The rules were simple: a $20 price limit; gifts had to be in good taste; and they were supposed to be sneaked under the Christmas tree in the conference room so nobody could guess who’d given what to whom. Normally I found the whole thing funny, but this year I’d drawn the new receptionist. She was maybe 19 years old, a chattering airhead who couldn’t talk about anything but pop singers, clothes, clubs and parties. I worked in Marketing, hardly even saw her, had nothing in common with her and didn’t have a clue what she might like. And the company Christmas party was this afternoon. At lunch, I went to the mall and wandered around, hoping inspiration would strike. A shop that featured clubwear caught my eye. They had a jewelry display in the window. I figured that I couldn’t go wrong with that, so I walked in, looked at the walls covered in rhinestone thingies and nearly went into sensory overload. There was enough glitter and glitz in this place to outfit a Vegas chorus line! “May I help you, sir?” a woman’s voice said behind me. I turned to see a woman I guessed was about 25. She had pale olive skin, a pretty face and a nice figure in kicky slacks and a tight, scoop-necked blouse that accentuated her cleavage. Her reddish-brown hair was done up in what I recognized from observation of my Secret Santa recipient as a club ‘do. A pair of high heels and a name tag that read, “Belle – Store Manager” completed the outfit. Definitely easy on the eyes. Pity she likely wouldn’t be interested in a guy probably 15 years older than her. I explained my problem. Belle thought for a moment, and picked half a dozen rhinestone hair ornaments off the racks. I looked dubiously at them. “How do you wear them?” “Like this,” Belle replied. She swept her shoulder-length hair up with one hand in front of a mirror on the back wall and handed me the pins. “Use them to pin the hair up.” I stepped in close enough to put them in place. Belle leaned back slightly to make it easier and my cock popped to attention in a perfectly natural reaction. I blushed. Belle felt and saw my reaction, chuckled low in her throat and let more of her weight rest on me while her free hand trickled over my thigh and she winked in the mirror. “See? It’s easy. I’m sure she’ll like them; I know I like what I’m seeing.” Playing along, I said, “A shame you can’t see her face when she unwraps them.” “You’ll have to stop by and tell me how it went. We close at ten.” With a last pressure against me, Belle straightened up, took the ornaments out of her hair and went to the register to ring up the sale and wrap them up. As she handed back my credit card, she stroked my palm with her nails and said, “Remember what I said.” At the company party, the airhead was delighted with her present and immediately ran off to the ladies’ room to redo her hair and put them in place. Belle clearly knew what her typical customers liked. I slipped away from the festivities as soon as I’d made my manners with everyone I needed to, happy to be out of the racket and enroute to… what? A rendezvous? A date? A debriefing? Since my divorce five years before, I’d concentrated on building my career. I was out of touch with the dating scene. I had about 2 hours before my rendezvous with Belle, if that was what it was. I stopped at a restaurant and ate a light meal. I decided to go for a walk and found myself outside an antique shop. I still had time to kill, so I went inside. This shop sold repros as well as antiques, and I found something I thought Belle might like. Figuring that I owed her for saving me from making a foolish present purchase in the matter of the teeny-twit, I bought it and slipped it into my blazer pocket. The mall was about to close as I walked through the entrance and on up to the shop where Belle might or might not be expecting me. I was mentally prepared to learn that the whole business had been a gag on someone seen as ripe to be the object of a practical joke. When I walked through the shop door, Belle looked up from the cash register she was closing out and called, “Hi! Go on into the office. I’ll be there as soon as I finish this.” I went into the office and sat down, standing when Belle came in. “So how did she like them?” she asked, brushing my arm with her boobs as she eased past. I couldn’t tell if she’d done it on purpose or not. “She went absolutely gaga,” I replied. “She was babbling about what she would wear with them as she ran off to put them in her hair.” Belle looked pleased. Gathering my courage, I said, “By way of thanks, would you care to have coffee or a drink with me?” I steeled myself for a polite rejection. Belle smiled, picked up her coat and took my arm. “We can have both, and peace and quiet, at my place. Interested?” Naturally, I was. After dropping the day’s receipts in the night deposit box in the mall’s branch bank, we took my car to Belle’s apartment nearby. She lived in a condo complex a twenty minute walk from the mall. After we hung up our coats, she headed upstairs, calling over her shoulder, “I’m going to change. The coffee’s in the kitchen, and the booze is in the living room credenza. Take off your shoes and kick back, I’ll only be a minute.” After losing the shoes, I started coffee brewing and went up the stairs to the living room. As advertised, the credenza held an impressive collection of liquor and glasses. I selected brandy for the two of us, poured two snifters and set them on the table, and wandered over to the bookcase to check out Belle’s DVD collection. I heard the swish of fabric to my left and turned to look. Belle was descending the stairs in a red silk robe, tightly belted at the waist, her feet in matching mules with 6-inch stiletto heels. My eyes must have lit up, for she smiled knowing as she brushed past me to pick up a brandy, waving for me to join her. “Why don’t you take off your coat and tie and relax?” she suggested, patting the couch next to her. I pulled my tie loose and tossed it onto the arm of the couch. As I started to take off my blazer, the box in the side pocket reminded me it was there. I took it out and cradled it in my hands, looking at Belle’s languorous form leaning back against the far arm. “A little something to thank you for helping me out of the jam with that Secret Santa problem,” I said as I handed the jeweler’s box to her. She put down her brandy and opened it slowly. The box contained a suite of matching jewelry in sterling silver, onyx and marcasite: a ring, a bracelet, earrings and a pendant on a silver chain. She looked up at me, her eyes bright and clear. “They’re beautiful! Would you like me to model them for you?” “I’d like that very much,” I said. “You’ll have to help me,” she said softly, extending a slender hand to me. I felt sparks as I pulled her to her feet. So, apparently, did she. She set the box on the coffee table, looking at me expectantly. I took the ring from the box and motioned for her right hand. The ring slipped easily onto her third finger. The bracelet came next, and I slid it slowly over her left hand until it rested above her wrist, taking time to caress her palm as I did so. I took the earrings from the box one at a time and dipped the French hooks into my brandy to sterilize them before I gently worked them through her shapely earlobes. Belle lifted her hair in one hand and turned her back to me so I could put the necklace around her throat and close the clasp. As it clicked shut, she leaned back against me, closing her eyes. I moved my arms around her to hold her close, my hands at her waist. I saw that a drop of brandy had fallen from the right earring into the hollow of her neck. I leaned forward to kiss the spot, my erection pressing against the globes of her ass. Belle responded by lifting my hands from her waist to her breasts, easing the top of the robe open in silent invitation. I cupped her boobs, squeezing gently and rubbing my thumbs lightly across her nipples, feeling them harden and tighten as she moaned low in her throat. She half-turned in my arms, one hand pulling my head to hers to meet her parted lips. Our tongues dueled as I pulled her closer, my left hand cradling her head as my right kneaded her buttocks. She moaned softly, fingernails digging into my scalp as her other hand sought out my ass in turn, pressing me to her as tightly as she could, her hips grinding against my cock as she eagerly sucked at my tongue. “I want you,” she whispered when she broke the kiss. “I need you to make me feel good. Take me to bed and fuck me. Please.” Slipping an arm around each other’s waists, we climbed the stairs to her bedroom on the top floor. Her bedroom was built around a kingsized bed made up with what looked like silk sheets. The thick mattress & box-spring set, plus the low platform they rested on, put the top of the mattress at thigh height on me. The only light spilling into the room came from the open bathroom door, but it was enough. Belle began to undress me with sensuous brushings of her fingers and nails and soft kisses as I went from clothed to naked. She stepped back. I reached out and pulled the knotted sash at her waist. The robe slipped open and she shrugged it off her shoulders, the fabric puddling at her feet. She stepped forward into my embrace, her eyes hot and seeking as we wrapped ourselves around each other, each feeling the other’s lust and feeding our own off it. I grasped a handful of hair and pulled her mouth to mine. Our tongues intertwined like mating snakes as she sighed and wordlessly urged me on. I broke the kiss and picked her up by the buttocks. Belle wrapped her legs around my back as I placed her on the edge of the bed. She leaned back, parting her legs in invitation. Her bush was bikini-waxed and neatly trimmed, which pleased me. Love-dew beaded her pussy lips, its musk arousing me even more. I leaned forward, pushing her thighs farther apart, and began to tongue her. She moaned deep in her throat and whispered, “Oh, yes,” as I ran my tongue into her slit, tasting her juices for the first time. I worked my way up to her clitoral shaft and licked it, feeling rather than seeing her clit engorge and emerge from its hood as she responded to the stimulation. Leaning in closer, I sucked it into my mouth, gently nibbling her clitoris. Belle arched up off the bed and groaned with pleasure, her pussy nectar soaking my chin as she began to climb toward orgasm, pressing her mound into my face, demanding more and more as she hoarsely mumbled, “Don’t stop… yes… yes… oh, that’s good… lick me… lick me… ooh, don’t stop…” as I continued to lap up her dripping sweetness. As she grew more agitated, I slid first one, then two fingers into her while continuing to lick and nibble at her clit. She responded with deep groans of pleasure. I could feel her pussy clamp down on my fingers, trying to pull them even farther in. Her head thrashed on the slender column of her neck, her hair flying as she sought her peak, her moans turning into ecstatic howls of sexual pleasure. I curved and turned my fingers, trying to find her G-spot and press it back against her clitoris. Belle reacted to this invasion of her body by shoving her slit harder against my face, chanting “Suck it! Suck it! Suck it! Ohmigawd! I… need… to… cummm…” her body twisting spasmodically as she sought release, her hands pressing against the back of my head, trying to control me even as I controlled her. I lifted my head just a little from my enjoyable task, took a deep breath, and blew sharply onto her exposed love bud. Belle bucked up with a shriek of lust and I dropped my mouth back over her clit, simultaneously sucking and biting gently as I lashed it with my tongue. Belle screamed joyously, an incomprehensible sound that told me and anyone else in earshot that she had reached a shattering climax. Her thighs clamped spastically around my head and her hands tried to shove my face into her cunt, the nails digging deep into my scalp. I rode the bucking slut, never letting up on her clit, feeling her juices flow onto my hand as I continued to pleasure her. It seemed like hours before the viselike grip of her legs relaxed as she fell down the far side into afterglow and I could shift my position. She whined as I withdrew my fingers from her pussy and stood up. I rubbed my right hand over her mound, gathering up her wetness and smearing it over my cock as she lay there panting, too limp to protest. I grabbed her ankles and forced her legs back against her boobs, spreading her open. The move pulled her cunt lips apart, her hips rotating up, her pussy helplessly exposed to anything I might choose to do. Taking a deep breath, I rubbed my cock up and down her inner lips for a moment. Then, in one swift, decisive thrust, I entered her. Belle hissed, “Yes!” as she felt me penetrate her. She was slick and tight as I took her, driving in clear up to the hilt. She didn’t resist as I fucked in and out of her. Quite the contrary. As she came back to herself from what I hoped would be the first of many climaxes she began to move in time with my thrusts, her hips rising to meet my inward thrusts, her cunt muscles grabbing my cock, her love juice flowing as I ravaged her greedy hole. She laid her legs on my shoulders, her long calves pressing down, urging me to even deeper penetration, greedily trying to shove my balls in too. She arched her back, bracing herself on her arms, offering her firm breasts with their engorged nipples to me. I leaned down, catching her left nipple in my teeth and flicking it with my tongue. She cried, “Oh! It hurts… don’t… stop… don’t stop… ohh, yes…” as the stimulation crossed the pleasure/pain boundary. At the top of each thrust, her hips curved forward and down as she sought to bring her swollen clit into contact with my shaft. She moaned in time with the pistoning of my cock as I pulled myself up on her body to steepen the angle and make it easier for her love bud to scrape along my rod. I noticed a flush spreading across her chest as her nipples hardened to pebbles and she neared orgasm. My balls were threatening to explode, but I mentally clamped down, determined to make Belle climax before letting myself go, forcing myself to keep my strokes long and steady instead of going for the short jabs that always presaged my own climax, listening to her moaning increase in intensity and pitch as we continued to fuck. I let go of Belle’s nipple to better resist the temptation to cum. She grabbed her tits with both hands, her sharp nails pressing cruelly into her own flesh, increasing the sensations she was feeling. It drove her over the edge. She howled, “I’m cumming!!” as she arched her back, trying to impale herself on my rock-hard prick and drive it clear into her belly. I continued to ride her, not caring if I was hurting her as my own climax approached, no longer to be denied. She felt the difference in my thrusts. Her hazel eyes looked deep into my blue ones. “Fuck me, lover,” she whispered. “Fuck me. Give it to me. Give me your cum. I want it. Give it to me… give it to me… give it to me…” I reached up, grabbing her head and collapsing on her beautiful tits as my orgasm overwhelmed me, my cock ramming into her, plundering her depths as it spewed my sperm deep into her wanton pussy and my tongue invaded her mouth, my groans muffled against her lips. I felt her shudder in climax as her twat milked frantically at my prick. Our sweat mingled as we lay together, the spasms subsiding as we became aware of the outside world again. My spent cock slipped out of her liquid depths as we gasped for air. The sheets where we lay we soaked with sweat and our mingled fluids. I had just enough energy left to swing her legs onto the bed and turn her clear of the wet spot that marked our coupling before I climbed up onto the bed on her far side, pulling the silk sheet up over our glowing bodies. As she cuddled into my chest and I cupped one of her lovely breasts, we fell into the exhausted sleep of satisfied lovers. Saved by the Belle Ch. 02 I woke a short time later to the very pleasant sensation of Belle lying partly on and partly off me, her hand loosely encircling my cock and masturbating it gently. She chuckled softly and kissed me. "Well, lover, you certainly know how to show a girl a good time. That was the best first time I've ever had. It was one powerful experience." I put an arm around her and returned her kiss with interest. "For me, too, baby. I just have a question – " She laid a finger on my lips. "Why you and why so fast?" I nodded, nipping at her finger. She laughed and snuggled closer, her other hand still slowly stroking me. "I liked the way you blushed when I flirted with you in the shop, and that you weren't afraid to come back and see if I was for real. I liked that you cared enough about the girl at your office that you took time to find her a present she would like and weren't too proud to take advice from someone younger than you – though not so much younger as all that; I'm pushing 30. And I liked the fact you felt grateful to me and wanted to show it. It speaks well of you. "I don't jump into bed with every handsome man that walks into my store. But when you came back, told me how it went and offered to buy me dinner to say thank-you, I just decided I wanted you. When something feels right, I go for it. And we sure feel right together! "I've always liked the men I bed to be a little older than me. Guys like you can read the signs, know how to pace their lovemaking, aren't afraid to do things they think their partner might enjoy, and think more about pleasing their lover than themselves. And they can tell when a woman wants to be treated like a lady and when she wants to be treated like a slut." I gathered her in both arms and kissed her slowly and lingeringly, my hands caressing her ears, neck, back and buttocks with light feather-touches, never letting them be still, feeling her breathing deepen and feeling her press herself to me. I broke the kiss and looked into her eyes. "And how do you feel like being treated now, Belle?" Her eyes half-lidded, she looked back at me with feminine witchery and whispered huskily, "I don't feel like being treated like a lady." She kissed me, her mouth open, her lips puffy in arousal, her tongue dancing against mine. "Just lie back and relax, love. You pleasured me and now it's my turn to pleasure you. We have all night. Just leave everything to your Belle." She kissed me again, leisurely but not casually, a tactile message that said without words that we could take out time and just surrender to the sensations. Her hands roamed over me as mine did over her, with barest whispers of contact, the touch so light it was hard to tell where the contact left off as her fingers wandered. My penis began to rise, thickening and hardening under her in response to her teasing. She slowly slipped down my body, kissing my neck, nipples and stomach as she worked her way down to my cock. Reaching her goal, she took it in her hand and stroked it slowly as she licked it like an ice cream cone until it was slick with her spit. Humming softly, she took the purple head into her mouth, her tongue flicking over it and transmitting flashes of exquisite pleasure straight to my groin, my cock growing even harder and longer. Her hand continued to jack slowly up and down the shaft, the occasion dribble of saliva and pre-cum keeping the motions smooth, the slippery friction encouraging me to lose myself in the moment. Still humming, Belle's head began to bob up and down as she took more of me into her mouth, using her tongue and teeth carefully to induce even more intense sensations. My hips began to rise involuntarily, instinctively seeking to jam my rod into her wet, willing mouth. She pressed her palm flat on my stomach, wordlessly telling me to lie still and enjoy, to let her do all the work. The blowjob was far and away the best I'd ever had, the product of practice, inborn talent and something I'd rarely experienced, the feeling of mutual enjoyment that marked my lover as a woman who loved giving head to her partner. With no warning, Belle moved her hand away and deep-throated my cock, slurping it in until the head hit the back of her throat, her cheeks hollowing and throwing her high cheekbones into prominence as she took it all, her nose touching my pubic bone. Her head came back up and ended with just the helmet in her talented mouth, then shot forward again, constantly sucking and whipping my cock with her tongue. The pleasure was intense, almost painful as she noisily fellated me. My hands started toward her head; hers caught mine and shoved them aside. She could sense that I was almost there, but she wasn't done with me yet. She stopped with me all the way down her throat and pressed a certain spot at the base of my penis just so, holding the pressure as she started to move the length of my shaft again, sucking, slurping and firmly raking my prick with her teeth, my cock swelling larger than before. To me it felt like a salami, a salami so sensitive that I couldn't tell the sweet pain from the excruciating pleasure any more. All I could do was moan in frustration as the good feelings overwhelmed me. I wanted to cum. I NEEDED to cum. But I could tell Belle wouldn't let me until she was ready for me to cum. She moved with me, keeping the same relative distance and depth of my cock in her mouth no matter how I arched my hips and tried to grab her head to fuck her face. I was in sexual agony, hanging between terminal arousal and a desperate longing for release. "Suck me, slut! Take my cock, damn you! I want to shoot down your throat and then fuck you till the cum pours out of your ears!" I groaned. I could feel the laughter in Belle's throat as she enjoyed my frustration, even the vibrations of her laughter causing sweet sensations in my dick. She knew I would not hurt her, and prolonged her teasing until tears of pleasure/pain leaked out of the corners of my eyes. She pulled all the way back, my cock coming out of her mouth with a popping sound, and released the pressure she'd maintained underneath my equipment. Fountains of sticky cum geysered out of my cock, splashing on her face as she dropped her head back onto it and sucked hard, swallowing my offering in her eager mouth. When she'd sucked the last bit of juice out of my cock, she kissed the head, poking her tongue into the tiny slit that had fed her my sperm before she crawled back up my body. "Did you enjoy that, lover?" she asked, studying my face. "I did. I love it when a man cums in my mouth and his cum is sweet and untainted. I love it when my partner is so frustrated he makes promises he can't possibly keep." She kissed me, smiling, knowing she'd brought me to one of the most explosive climaxes I'd ever had; but assuming that I had shot my bolt with my climax. "I don't make promises I'm not willing to keep, Belle," I said. My cock was still diamond-hard as a result of her tender attentions. "And I'm going to do just what I said I would!" I grabbed her by the hips and pulled her down onto my cock, catching her by surprise as I forced my way past the inner lips that still dripped from our earlier passage in the lists of love. She cried out as I thrust into her, her body involuntarily responding as her fuck-engine dropped back into gear. "Ohmigawd, you must be made of iron!" she panted as she took me all the way inside her, her cunt juices starting to flow anew. She bounced up and down on my prick as my hands sought her breasts, squeezing them roughly, twisting and pinching her umber nipples as they stiffened with her hot blood, ready for my mouth, my teeth, whatever I wanted to do with them. "Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck me!" she moaned in time with the movements of my cock in her cunt. "Don't stop! Fuck me hard! Make me cum! I want it! I want you! Fuck me! Don't stop!" Her love-dew slicked both of us, easing my use of her passage, dripping down my legs and soaking the sheets. I felt her pussy clench on my penis as she had a climax, but that didn't slow me down. I wanted to screw her senseless. I continued to drive into her cunt, replacing one of the hands on her tits with my lips as I sucked a swollen nip clear past the aureola until it filled my mouth, using my teeth to press and rake it without biting. She screamed as she hit another orgasmic plateau and still I forced her to ride my cock. I brought my free hand down to her mound and located her clit by touch. Belle bucked and groaned, "AAAH!" as my thumbnail touched its tip and my index finger stroked the length of the clitoral shaft. She climaxed again almost instantly under the stimulation, and a minute later came again, her juices spurting past my cock. The unintelligible cries she was making told me she was enjoying what I was doing even as she was losing touch with the real world. Her rocking lost its coordination as she slipped into a state of transcendent pleasure where almost anything felt good to her and the interval between climaxes shortened. I sensed rather than felt her climaxes begin to overrun each other, the very condition I was waiting for. I dropped my other hand from her bouncing tit and sought her ass as she blindly fucked up and down on my rock-hard dick, her ecstasy driving her blindly on. I rubbed my hand up and down her slit, womanjuice like warm oil on my fingers. As she ground down again, I rammed my index finger into her asshole. Belle's scream of unbridled lust nearly broke the windows as her cunt spasmed tightly around my cock. It drove me over the edge. Objectively, I suppose the amount of spunk I shot into her was tiny; I hadn't had this many climaxes this fast since I was a teenager. Subjectively, however, it was Old Faithful, a Saturn V moon rocket and a hydrogen bomb going off all at once. I came so hard I almost threw Belle off despite having her trapped on the divine fulcrum of my dick, locked down by the finger in her rosebud. Her eyes rolled back into her head and she collapsed bonelessly onto me, passed out from sensory overload. "You can't do much better by a woman than that," I said to myself as I followed her down into the depths of post-coital rest, a smile on my face as I considered my repayment of my earlier denial. I didn't think Belle would be displeased when we awakened together. Saved by the Belle Ch. 03 When we awakened again, the sun was shining in the windows. Belle stirred, her silky hair tickling as she snuggled under my chin, a look of indecent satiation on her face. “Good morning, baby,” I said, caressing her back. “Happy?” “Mmmm… you have no idea,” Belle said in a purr. “I feel like butter all over. What time is it?” I turned my head and looked at the alarm clock on the nightstand. “8:30 of a lovely sunny Saturday morning.” Belle reared up, a surge of adrenaline wiping the cat-in-the-creamery look off her face, replacing it with alarm. “8:30! I’ve got to get up and get dressed! I have to open the store for a ten o’clock start! I’ll never be able to dress and do my makeup in time!” She started to climb out of bed; I restrained her. “Hang on a second, Belle,” I said. “You have an assistant manager, right?” “Yes, but this is her day off,” Belle said, trying to wriggle out of my grasp but not very hard. “She takes Friday and Saturday, I take Sunday and Monday. I don’t like it when neither of us are there to supervise the clerks. The girls are okay, they’re honest, but – “ “You must have some contingency plan for when one of you is sick. Call her up and say you’re sick. Or if you don’t want to do that, ask her for a favor.” Belle looked at me. “Why?” I kissed her gently, not trying to initiate something, but to let her know I didn’t want her to go. How to phrase it? “Because, baby, I think we can be more to each other than just a one night stand. You felt it last night, the same way I did. We owe ourselves the chance to find out. “You call in sick today, and I’ll call in on Monday. I have enough personal days on the books that I can do that and no one will ask why. That gives us three days to get to know each other outside the bedroom, and of course,” I went on, kissing the side of her throat and pressing just a little with my teeth a la Dracula; she shivered deliciously, “having more fun here too. After four days together, we’ll pretty much know each other and we can decide where we’re going from there. No recriminations, no regrets, no strings if we don’t click, and a solid foundation for us if we do. What do you say?” Belle looked into my eyes and I fell into hers, noticing gold flecks in then I hadn’t seen in the living room. She settled back down onto my chest and sighed, a finger toying with the hairs there. “I think that’s a marvelous idea, lover. Let me get to the phone.” Belle called her assistant manager, who fortunately was up and about. Although I could only hear one side of the conversation, her deputy, also obviously a friend, wasn’t too upset at having her day off canceled. She agreed to do the favor, with the understanding that Belle owed her one. Belle hung up the phone and came back to my arms. “We’re all set,” she said, her fingers trailing over my chest as she laid her head on the pillows. “No one will bother us here. What would you like to do, baby? I’m yours on a silver platter, after last night.” “Flattery indeed,” I smiled, my hands roaming over her body. “But I think the first thing we ought to do, before we have breakfast, is take a shower. “Your scent is divine, but I smell like a locker room at the half!” “Are you kidding?” Belle laughed. “I whiff of eau de goat. I think we both need that shower.” With a lithe movement, she slipped out of the bed and pulled me up by the hand into a hug, her head on my chest, my chin in her hair and contentment running through both of us. After a minute, she led me into her bathroom. The master bathroom was typical of a condo: a shower stall and a tub big enough for two if they were friendly, tile floors and walls and a two-sink counter with marble top. Fluffy towels hung off chrome wall racks, and a profusion of feminine beauty products covered most of the counter space. Belle opened the glass shower stall door and turned on the water. We kissed leisurely while we waited for the water to warm up, our tongues touching and tingling as our hands roamed up and down each other’s bodies, stroking sensation from each other like guitarists bringing forth music from their instruments. Belle took liquid body wash and worked up a lather on my chest. Without haste, she washed her way down my body until she got to my cock. Taking more soap, she used both hands to ‘clean’ it, masturbating me into a raging erection. Sluicing it off, she took me into her mouth, ignoring the water soaking her hair as she sucked it like a Popsicle until it was standing proudly out, ready for action. She stood up, her firm tits rubbing my chest in the tight quarters. She smiled impishly. “Your turn, lover,” she said, putting her hands on my shoulders and rocking against me slowly. I picked up the shampoo and poured a little into my hand. Belle closed her eyes and turned her back to me. I enjoyed the feel of her buttocks pressing against my cock, remembering how this affair had begun the day before. Taking my time, I worked shampoo into her scalp and cleaned her hair, combining the shampooing with a scalp massage. Belle purred under my ministrations, letting me know she approved of what I was doing. Switching to the body wash, I reached around her and carefully ‘washed’ her breasts, going over every inch of them several times to make sure I got every last bit of sweat and dirt. I paid special attention to the brown roses that tipped them, making sure they harbored no thorns to prick my fingers. She squirmed against me and tipped her head back on my shoulder. I kissed her and sighed as she sucked on my tongue as she had my cock a few minutes before, inviting greater intimacies. My hands quested farther south, gliding over the curve of her toned stomach and moving to her valley of delight. I worked up a good lather in her pubic hair, cleaning her of our mixed secretions with just a twinge of regret. A man likes to put his mark on a woman he has had, even if only temporarily. My fingers found her clit and began to caress it. She moaned and leaned against me, pinning me against the stall’s glass wall as she moved her perfect ass up and down, rubbing my cock even as I teased her into full arousal. After a couple of minutes of this mutually-imposed torture, I could feel the oils from her sweet pussy on my fingers. Belle turned around and pulled my head to her, her mouth eager against mine as she kissed me. “Do you remember how you picked me up last night and put me on the bed?” she asked. “Yes,” I said, leaning down to nibble at the junction of her neck and shoulder like a vampire preparing to feed. “Do it again – only this time, put me down on that fuckstick of yours. I want you in me again, and I’ve never done it in the shower. Take my shower cherry, lover.” I chuckled at the idea of there being such a thing as a ‘shower cherry,’ but if she was willing, so was I. I grabbed two handfuls of prime female ass and lifted my lover up a good two feet. Belle wrapped her legs around my back and I carefully lowered her back down, trying to line us up by feel. Belle helped by reaching down between us and grabbing my cock; I lifted her just a little higher as she positioned my raging bone at the entrance to her pussy and wiggled it a little. She gasped in surprise as I lowered her onto it. She wasn’t as slick as she had been last night, probably because the water coming out of the shower head was washing away her lovedew before it could do what nature intended and ease my entrance into her waiting hole. There was friction this time, friction that stopped just short of discomfort. I held her like that for a few seconds, then lifted and lowered her slowly, trying to simulate a normal fucking rhythm. Belle nipped at my nose. “Don’t do that, honey. Just sit me all the way down on that beautiful thing and brace us good. I’ll do it all.” She locked her lips to mine as I positioned us so we didn’t have to worry about anything but my legs giving way. She hooked her arms under mine and grabbed my shoulders to give us added solidity, her tongue dancing inside my mouth as mine contested right of way with hers, the erotic sensations heightening my arousal. I could feel pre-cum leaking out of the tip of my cock as Belle used only her pussy muscles to pleasure us. A peeping tom would have thought we were standing motionless in the warm spray, but from the inside it felt like a minor earthquake was shaking our conjoined crotches. Belle was a sexual artiste. I heard her breathing deepen and she sighed contentedly as her talented twat rippled and squeezed my throbbing hard-on. I could feel her rocking her pelvis just a little to bring her clit into contact with me. She broke the kiss and threw her head back, eyes shut, enjoyment written all over her face. I dropped my face to her boobs and licked her nipples, going from one to the other, trying to tickle them and give my lover more pleasure. Moans of, “Oooh, yes, baby… ooooh… what you do to me… you animal… I’m supposed to be pleasuring YOU… ohhh…” indicated to me I was succeeding. The tempo of Belle’s pussy on my cock increased. I knew I would have to cum soon, whether she made it or not. Damn, but she was good! “Ohhh, Belle,” I grunted, squeezing her buttocks hard enough to leave fingerprints in her taut, firm flesh, “I can’t hold out much longer. I need to cum!” She tightened her legs around my back and began to raise and lower herself an inch or two on my cock, using her arms on my shoulders like a pull-up bar. Up, down, up, down, not fast but steady, like a walking-beam engine driving a pump. “Don’t worry about me,” she gasped. “This is for you. I don’t care if I make it or not, I want YOU to make it. Go ahead and shoot your cum in me. Let me feel it. I want to feel your cock spray. Give me your cum. Give it to me, you animal! Shoot it into me! Ahhhh, so gooood…” I reached up a hand and pulled her head to me, my vision graying at the edges from the intensity of what she was doing to me. I couldn’t resist any more and didn’t want to. Taking the same grip on her shoulders that she had on mine, I caught her at the bottom of her stroke and forced her to stay bottomed out. My legs trembled both from the task of holding us up and from the force of my orgasm as my dick stiffened and shot wad after wad of hot cum deep into her pussy. She moaned in surprise as a small climax overtook her, too; a bonus she clearly hadn’t expected. My legs finally gave out and we slid down the wall of the shower stall, ending in a tangled heap, kissing whatever parts of the other we could reach as the shower door popped open and we tumbled out onto the floor. We lay there panting, heedless of the water that spilled onto the floor. When we could breath normally again, Belle rolled away from me and said, “Oh, my! I never imagined that fucking in the shower would be like that! Thank you, love.” I caught her hand and kissed its palm, watching a flush rise on her beautiful face. “Me either. I hope you liked it enough to try it again some time.” She leaned over me and gave me a quick peck. “Count on it. But right now I’d better take a quick shower - by myself. If I took you in there with me, we’d end up with you IN me again; and fun as that is, we really ought to make breakfast before it turns into lunch!” Clad in bathrobes, we went downstairs to the kitchen and put together a breakfast of finger foods, the cooking frequently interrupted by caresses in passing as we worked. We ate on the couch, content to be in each other’s company, maintaining contact between us with the intertwining of fingers, a leg draped over the other’s, a hand resting on the thigh. We discovered it wasn’t enough to be in close proximity; we had to touch, as if reassuring ourselves that we weren’t a dream and the other was real. After the dishes were in the dishwasher, we retreated back to the living room and cuddled together on the couch just to talk, although we didn’t let conversation stop us from gentle kisses, fondlings and fingerings. We realized that although we knew each other in bed intimately, any lasting relationship has to have more to it than just fabulous sex. We talked about politics and were secretly relieved to learn that we were close enough in our views on almost everything that we could discuss issues without acrimony. We talked about hobbies, interior decoration, and our tastes in food. Belle and I found we were safely alike in our tastes in fiction, movies and TV shows, and had similar outlooks toward money and finances. We differed on dance and music. Belle liked popular music and could dance club-style as naturally as breathing; while I was devoted to classical music, thought the decline of Western Civilization began with the rise of the hair bands, and surprised Belle by telling her I knew how to dance ballroom-style (I promised to teach her how to waltz and tango). The sun had vaulted across the sky and was dropping toward the western horizon when we finally found ourselves talked out. Belle was nestled in my arms, dozing, her back to my chest, my legs keeping her from escaping, content as a kitten in a sunbeam. I looked down at her face, lovely in repose, and had a thought. I kissed her forehead. “Wake up, sleepyhead. I want to ask you something.” “Mmmnh?” she said as she sleepily turned in my arms to look up at me. “I don’t have anything to wear except what I had on yesterday. How about if we go over to my place so I can get some casual clothes? We can spend the night there, or we can come back here if you’d rather. Your choice, either way. Just so we’re together.” Belle considered for a minute, a slow smile spreading across her face. “Okay. You take the bedroom and get dressed. I’ll dress in the guest room, I have some clothes there. Meet you at the front door in five minutes.” I went upstairs and dressed in my crumpled clothes, snagged my blazer from the living room as I passed through, and was waiting at the front door when Belle arrived in a floor length coat that concealed her from the shoulders down. We got into my car and went out to my house in the next town over, holding hands as I drove. I was pleased with Belle’s first reaction to my place. A two-floor colonial, it has plenty of room and a good thing too, given my antique-hunting hobby. She liked the kitchen I had redone in Industrial Stainless, and the fact that all the floors were hardwood with rugs instead of contractor-grade wall to wall carpeting. I left her prowling the first floor while I dashed upstairs to change. I had just finished belting my dungarees and was reaching for my comfortably broken in deck shoes when I heard Belle call up the stairs to me. “Honey, can you come down to the study for a minute?” I walked down the stairs and went down the corridor off the living room. My study, with a fabulous 1820s partners’ desk I had unearthed in two separate pieces in a 19th century factory, bought for next to nothing and refinished over the course of a year; and solid oak shelves that came out of a demolished mansion, was to me the heart of the house, the place where I felt most secure. I wasn’t surprised that Belle wanted to hear about it, but I was surprised by what I found when I walked through the door. Belle was waiting for me, standing with downcast eyes, her hands clasped modestly in front of her. She was wearing a Catholic schoolgirl outfit of black flats, dark blue tights, white long-sleeved blouse with a tie that matched the tights, and a jumper in what looked like a blue version of the MacDonald Hunting Tartan, the sort of gawdawful plaid favored by parochial schools. I almost broke stride and asked what she was playing at, when for once my mental censor engaged BEFORE my mouth operated and I realized that was exactly what this was. She was playing a role, though whether the role was a kink of hers or just a fantasy, I’d have to deduce as I went. “All right, Belle. What have you done THIS time, that Sister Mary Frances sent you to me?” I asked, playing for time. I needed more information before I’d know what my part was in Belle’s scenario. “Coach, we weren’t doing anything wrong!” she said. “Billy McAllister dared me to, and I didn’t want him to – to think I was, like, chicken or anything. I mean, I know he’s on the varsity and he’s dating the head cheerleader, but I thought maybe he was tired of cherry vanilla – “ “Belle, what did you do?” I interrupted, falling into my role. “I have games to win this season, and the last thing I need is to have the school slut nosing around my star quarterback! Just what happened? And tell it straight, or you’ll have a meeting with Corporal Punishment,” I threatened. I pointed to an umbrella stand by the door. It held a collection of walking sticks, including one slender rattan cane that looked like the sort of thing alumni of Catholic schools claim nuns and priests once used to punish them. She swallowed, whether playing her role or out of fear I was getting too far into mine I could not tell. “I – I flashed him in Spanish class… and I fingered myself so he could see… and then I passed him a note with my juices on it daring him to meet me in the book room to get something better than that hoity-toity little rich-bitch he’s dating.” “And Sister caught you flaunting yourself. And she wants someone to do a better job on your ass than she can, being that she’s getting old?” She looked down at her feet. “No, sir. It’s worse than that.” I sat behind my desk. “Don’t make this a trip to the dentist, Belle. I don’t want to have to dig the story out of you. What happened?” “He met me in the book room, all right. I thought he locked the door. We were just getting into it when Sister walked in and caught us.” She squeezed her hands together. “Caught you doing what?” I growled. “I – I can’t say it,” she stammered. I got up, drew the curtains, closed the study door and locked it with an audible click. I walked back and settled into the leather chair in front of the desk. Belle watched me with little sidelong looks, playing her part to the hilt and waiting for her next cue. “Show me, then,” I demanded. She sat on the edge of the desk, rucked the jumper up above her waist and spread her legs. I could see that the blue tights weren’t tights at all, but rather suspender hose, with what is normally the panty part of pantyhose cut away to form front and back suspenders and a belt for the hose while leaving the ass, pussy and hips exposed. She began to masturbate, blushing with embarrassment at first. Her fingers worked along her clitoris and her labia engorged, swelling larger as the first hint of moisture appeared. Belle’s free hand dipped into her cunt, two fingers moving in and out in time with the stroking of her clit. She moaned in a combination of embarrassment and lust as her fingers went in and out, dry at first but quickly turning slick as her arousal grew. I cleared my throat. “And what happened next?” Belle looked at me, sseing the lump in my crotch. Her eyes glittered. “Then Billy wanted me to do it to him,” she whispered, staying in character. “Jack him off?” I asked? “No,” she said. “This.” She pulled me to my feet and dropped to her knees. She undid my belt, unbuttoned and unzipped my trousers, and pulled them and my boxers down around my ankles. My cock sprang out. She grabbed it and rubbed the head over her face, leaving a trail of pre-cum glistening on her cheeks before she sucked it into her mouth and began to give me head. I closed my eyes and let my lover play the role she’d selected. Belle took her time, licking the shaft, teasing the head, taking her time, never letting up for a moment. I let her go on for a few minutes before I reached down and pulled her up by the hair. “And did Billy get off on this? Or did he use you properly?” Saved by the Belle Ch. 03 “Neither, Coach. He was just about to cum in my face when Sister caught us. She smacked his tallywhacker with her ruler and ordered him out of the room. And then she slapped me across the face and ordered me here for punishment. She said you’d know what to do.” “Exactly what did she say?” I asked. I thought I knew what she was after, but I wanted a hint. “She said, ‘Coach is a man and knows what to do with cheap little whores like you.’” Belle blushed as she improvised, visualizing the scene no doubt. A wink’s as good as a nod. “Sister is right. I know just what to do with cheap little whores like you. Take off your blouse and your jumper and bend over the desk.” Belle swallowed as she wiggled the jumper over her head and laid it on the desk. She shed the school tie and unbuttoned the blouse, laying it on top of the jumper. I hiked up my pants and walked behind her, out of her line of sight, taking my time and not saying a word. My intent was to heighten her tension, so she could not be sure if I was going to spank her, beat her with the cane or what. She closed her eyes, anticipating the first whack on her buttocks. She screamed in surprise as I took her from behind, my cock driving deep into her on the first stroke. I grabbed her flaring hips and pistoned in and out of her, going all the way in and out, my dick wet with the precious oils dripping out of her. “This is - what little sluts - like you want - isn’t it?” I panted in time with my strokes as I fucked her. “You asked – for it – and now – you’re – going to – get it – and like it!” Belle responded by fucking me back, throwing her head back as she savored the feelings I was evoking from her. I grabbed her hair, figuring that in the real situation the man would try to control the girl. “Yes!” she cried, the words forced out of her by my thrusts. “So much – bigger than – a boy! Fuck my pussy! Do it – to me! Ohmigawd! So – good! So – big! So – hard! Fuck me!” We went at it there on the desk, not trying to be subtle or clever with our lovemaking. I drove in and out of her, fucking her like an animal as she braced herself for the onslaught and welcomed my invasion of her pussy. I held back as long as I could before I finally couldn’t resist any more. I roared like a bull ape as I came, continuing to thrust my manhood into her. She threw her head back and whinnied like a mare in heat as her climax overtook her a minute later. We collapsed together onto the desk, her marvelous breasts squashed flat by our combined weight. I pulled out of her and fought my way out of my pants and underwear. I picked her up and carried her upstairs in my arms, where I laid her on my bed. Still breathing hard, her hair splashed wildly over the pillow, she sat up on her elbows and spread her legs as she saw me take off my remaining clothes. I climbed on the bed; she held out her arms to welcome me. Much more gently than downstairs, we made love in my bed until it was too dark to see before we slept. Sunday was spent at my place with the phone switched off. We played games with fruit and whipped cream from my refrigerator, ordered in rather than cook, and learned about each other, in and out of bed. We never were far from each other. Belle and I fucked in most of the rooms in the house and took a great deal of pleasure from each other’s bodies and responses. On Monday, I called in and left messages at my office as I had said I would, so we would have the day together. We returned to Belle’s condo so she could change clothes for a day out, and we headed down the open road toward an old mill town that made its living as host to more than 100 antique shops, auction houses and specialty bookstores. At lunchtime, while Belle went to the ladies’ room to powder her nose, I slipped out and dashed to the store two doors away, made a hasty purchase, and was back in my seat before she realized I had gone. Lunch proceeded at a leisurely pace, and when we’d reached the coffee and/or brandy stage, I made my move. “Belle,” I said, hesitant and unsure though I hoped I knew how she would react, “the past four days have been the best of my life. I hope you feel the same. I have a proposition for you.” I took the jewelry box from my pocket. Belle’s eyes widened. One of the things we had talked about was the fact she wasn't ready for marriage. Was I about to put her in the awkward position of having to turn down a proposal? I opened the box. It contained a pair of sterling silver Irish friendship rings. “I think we are compatible in every way. We’ve both sampled the wine, but neither of us is ready to buy the barrel. We are more to each other just friends, but we aren’t ready to be mates. Still, I think that there is no question but that we are a couple. I’d like us to take notice of that. “Will you move in with me, share my life and see if we can learn to love each other?” I waited for her reply with my heart in my throat as well as on my sleeve. Belle looked at my face for a long minute and down at the open box without saying a word. Then, she reached forward, took the larger of the two rings, and slid it onto my left ring finger. With a smile of relief, I did the same for her. Our fingers intertwined on the tablecloth, and we reached across to each other for a kiss that started as a gentle guerdon of love, but quickly turned passionate. She moaned and brought her other hand to my head, caressing my cheek. The spell was broken by our waiter muttering, “Hey, guys, rent a room, willya?” We broke apart, roaring with laughter. We returned to Belle’s condo and proved that we were a couple in the best possible way, planning for the immediate future as we brought each other to glorious orgasm again and again. The months and years to come looked bright for us, and I had no doubt we’d write many more chapters before we were done.