5 comments/ 26884 views/ 1 favorites The Voyage By: Bookworm1962 Janet looked herself in the mirror, and smiled, pleased with what she saw. The mother of three spirited teens, she was still a knockout. Her shapely legs curved upward, towards firm, round buttocks behind and in front, a trim, flat stomach with only the barest hint of curve. From a pretty navel, her gaze moved upward toward shapely, gently curved breasts. Not overly large, they were shapely enough to attract glances from the men at the office where she worked. More importantly to her, they were very sensitive, and easily aroused. Her tiny pink areolas gave way to wine-colored nipples that could stand erect at the slightest stimulation. Her slender neck supported a pretty face framed by shoulder-length dark brown, almost black hair. At 5' 8" the total package was tall and shapely, and she was proud of it. She again smiled at her reflection as she began to dress. Today she and Bob were going sailing. Bob owned a 40 foot sailboat that he used for business meetings, weekend cruising, and with a crew that had been together for years, for racing. Racing had brought Bob and Janet together: nearly two months ago, with co-workers on a "girls night out," she had gone to the party at the Lakebridge Yacht Club the night before the Regatta. The band had been loud, the clubhouse dance floor had been stiflingly crowded, and air inside was rank and smoky. Worst of all, the sailors had been drunk, boisterous, and for the most part, horny and crude. She had escaped the crowded dance floor, and had gone walking along the pier, taking in the fresh air, and looking at the boats. She had always wanted to sail, but her first husband had never been interested and now, as a single mother, she only had enough to sustain her and her boys. Sailing was an expensive luxury, far beyond her means. So she walked up and down the rows of boats, gazing and dreaming. Then suddenly, a man's voice interrupted those dreams. "I was beginning to think I was the only person on earth who wanted away from that noise," spoke a friendly voice from the shadows behind the rigging of a blue sloop. The speaker then stood up from his deckchair and stepped out from the shadows. He was tall, over six feet, slim and handsome. His blue polo shirt revealed a trim, muscular torso, and his khaki shorts revealed handsome legs. His sculpted face wore a relaxed smile that reached his blue eyes. Janet was instantly drawn to him. "It is a bit much, isn't it?" she replied. The stranger's grin deepened. "Welcome to the club," he answered. "I'm Bob, and this is the 'Bookworm.' Care to come aboard?" And she had. For the next several hours the two had talked. Over two glasses of wine, and then three cups of coffee, oh how they had talked. She discovered he was a widower, whose young wife had died years ago in a automobile accident after only four years of marriage. Janet found herself telling him about her children, and about how she had thrown herself in her work after her husband, their father, had left her for his theretofor unknown mistress. "I need something new," was all he had said at the time, leaving her to wonder what was so wrong with her that he would destroy their family to be away from her. She also told Bob of her desire, someday, to sail. They were both slightly startled when, in a moment of companion- able silence, they discovered that the night had somehow slipped away. The party had ended, the crowds had dispersed, and Janet's friends (along with her ride) had apparently left without her. Moreover, it was only a couple of hours until the dawn. Each of them then realized that they had spent hours in each other's relaxing and pleasant company. That realization quickly turned to a mutual attraction; and awareness of each other instantly led to awkwardness, as each wondered what to say next. "I should go," Janet said without conviction, as at the same moment Bob invited her to "Stay." She stared at him, wondering if he was propositioning her. He quickly blushed. "I mean, stay up here on deck. It's only a little while until dawn. Sunrise over the lake is something to see." She blushed to think that she would have spent the night with this man, even if it had only been in pleasant conversation. She hesitated. "Tell you what," Bob said, as much to hide the awkwardness as to keep her from abruptly leaving. "Watch sunrise with me, then let me treat you to breakfast. The club always does a nice spread for the Regatta. Then, I'll call you a cab." She had immediately jumped at the prospect, although in the end, the cab ride had been delayed. After breakfast, she had not wanted to leave, and he definitely had not wanted her to go. Bob's crewmates began to arrive, he introduced her to each of them. More than one met her with arched eyebrow, wondering what sort of conquest their skipper had made the night before. Janet blushed as she read their obvious thoughts. Then she got out of the way as they made final preparations for the race. Just before they shoved off, Bob stepped off the boat and moved close to her. He walked her to the cabstand in front of the club. He hesitated, then quietly told her, "I'd like very much to see you again." Janet smiled shyly, and said, almost in a whisper, "Yes, please. Here's my number," as she handed him a scrap of paper. "And good luck." Then she smiled at him. She didn't move as he looked at her, and smiled a smile that went all the way to his eyes. Then he forced himself to open the cab door and watch her climb inside. He said a quiet "so long," then began to walk back toward the boat. She sat there and continued to watch as his crew cast Bookworm off from the dock, and turned down the river, into the stream of boats heading into the lake for the Regatta. After that, they dated for about six weeks, and today, they would be spending the whole day together today. Her teens were staying the weekend with their father. As she finished dressing, she smiled yet again as she allowed herself to contemplate being with Bob. If today went well, then perhaps they would spend the night together. Janet hadn't yet been able to let herself do that, despite her attraction to the tall banker. A month ago, after their third date, Bob had made a polite, tempting overture, and Janet had clumsily rebuffed him. Bob was gracious and pleasant, but Janet was sure she'd never hear from him again. So she was relieved and gratified when he called the next day, as he had done after each of their previous dates, to arrange their next outing. And for the next month, each date thereafter had ended with the same friendly kiss on the cheek. But he had never again made another pass. And now they were going sailing. There was no racing this weekend, and the weather forecast was for a clear day, with a storm front forecast to come through in the evening hours. Bob assured her that the storm wouldn't threaten them. They could be back long before it arrived. Janet finished dressing, remembering Bob's advice. "It's warm on shore," he had said, "but on the lake, it can be quite a bit cooler, so bring a light jacket. The best approach is to dress in layers. An outer layer of long sleeves and long pants over something like a t-shirt and comfortable shorts. Bring your favorite sunscreen, and some type of lip balm. We might have swimming weather out on the lake, so if you want, bring a swimsuit," he had added. So she looked at herself in comfortable but snug jeans, a long- sleeve button down shirt, over a polo shirt of her own, and khaki shorts. In her carry-on bag she packed a comfortable, muted tan one-piece swimsuit that she always liked. But at the last minute, she also packed her electric yellow bikini, the one with the deep plunging front snap bra and the even skimpier bottom. She always felt a bit slutty wearing it, but it did make her look so very good. And maybe, just maybe, today would be the day to try "a little bit slutty." As Janet arrived at the dock, Bob was unwrapping the sail cover. She stood there and said "good morning," a bit awkwardly. He turned to her and smiled that smile -- oh, how she was becoming addicted to that smile! He said "Hello to you too! Come on aboard." She did so, and he said "You can stow your things below, if you like. There's space in the locker behind the port side settee." And when she looked confused, he grinned. "Port side. That's the left. And before you come back up, help yourself to something cool from the fridge. That's just beside the galley stove, also on the left." Janet went below and saw the spacious, well organized layout of the boat, and its gear. She also noticed the door to the master cabin aft was open. That was his bunk -- large, comfortable, and with fresh, crumpled sheets and a warm comforter. She blushed as in her mind's eye she briefly saw the two of them intimately intertwined on that bed. Then she trod firmly on her imagination, grabbed two cans of juice from the cooler, and climbed back up onto the deck. There, for the next hour, Bob had explained the boat, it's rigging and components, and how the boat worked. Bob patiently answered her questions, and showed her the names of the various parts, ropes and equipment. He demonstrated how the winches helped grind up the lines, and he also described various maneuvers. Finally he said, "Okay, you've absorbed all you can from talking about it. The rest you just have to see and experience out on the water. Ready?" She nodded, nervously. "Okay then," he smiled, "prepare to cast off. I'll get the stern lines." He then started the engine as she took the position he had pointed out earlier. "Cast off!" he commanded, and, as he had shown her, she took the dock lines off the cleats that held the boat in its slip, and set them on the dock. She helped him maneuver the boat out of the slip, and they slowly motored up the channel. She looked briefly at her car, disappearing in the distance, and then she turned and looked forward as he piloted the boat toward the lake. She wondered what this day would hold, but she was determined that she would not look back. As soon as they reached open water, Bob throttled the motor down until the boat was just making headway, then he turned it into the wind and motioned for Janet to take the wheel. "I'm going forward to raise the sails," he said. "You just keep her pointed into the wind." And with every confidence in her, he headed to the mast, where he quickly untied the sails and hoisted them -- first the mainsail, then the big overlapping jib. The sails fluttered loudly in the wind as Bob hoisted them up the mast and forestay, drowning out the drone of the engine, as he adjusted the halyards, then tied them down. "Now turn that way!" he yelled from the front of the boat, pointing left. As she turned the wheel, the boat hesitated, then responded as the rudder bit in the slowly flowing water. As she pointed Bookworm where Bob directed, he sheeted in the sails. The boat leaned over a little as the wind caught the sails, startling her. She grabbed the wheel with both hands and her eyes widened in momentary panic. She looked at Bob and saw that he was relaxed and enjoying it. That was enough to quickly calm her down enough to remember what he had told her earlier. The boat would lean over -- "heeling," he had called it. It was normal, he said, and all Janet needed to do was to stay on the windward side of the boat. "The high side," she remembered him saying. So, keeping her hands on the wheel, she stepped up to the right side of the boat that was leaning gently to the left. Bob grinned and nodded as he stepped around her and pulled a lever on the helm station. A moment later, the engine coughed and came to a stop. Bob then sat down beside her -- so very close to her -- but didn't touch the wheel, or her. As Bookworm accelerated on the wind, his grin grew as he looked at her and said, "You're sailing!" And so she was. For a couple of moments she marveled in the sensations -- the wind on her face, the gentle undulations of the boat on the waves, the way it responded when she turned the wheel one way or the other. She closed her eyes a moment and smelled the fresh air, and the lake water. She felt the cool breeze and the warmth of the sun. She opened her eyes, and looked up at the sails, their tell-tales flying the way Bob had said they would. She savored the whole experience. She was sailing! Just as she had always wanted to do. Now that she was, it was even better than she had imagined. Then she remembered that she was not alone. She sensed, rather than saw, Bob's presence next to her, watching her. She looked at him, and saw his pleasure as he looked at her. She smiled at him, a smile of gratitude, of joy, of genuine excitement and pleasure, and in a sudden flash of decision, an unspoken promise of other pleasures that they would share when the sailing was done. He smiled back, and she wondered how much he understood of the decision she had just made. Then, blushing, but still smiling, she turned her attention back to the boat. Bob showed her how to sit on the transom as she kept the helm. He moved away from her and went forward to trim the sails. To her disappointment, he stayed there for a moment, then he turned to her. "Ready to try tacking?" he said loudly. Tacking! Oh God, he had explained how that would happen, but what was it he had said? Bob seemed to understand so he gently talked her through it. "Pick a point off your right shoulder," he said. "That's where you're aiming for." She looked right, and saw a tower on the far shore, miles away. She nodded, still looking at the tower. "Okay!" he said. "You tell your crew you're about to tack by saying 'Ready about!'" "Ready about," she said in a normal tone of voice. "Louder!" he said, smiling. "Everyone has to hear you, even the guy at the bow!" She imagined sailing with a full crew, so she repeated, much more loudly, "Ready about!" Bob grinned, uncleated the jib sheet and nodded. "Ready!" he replied. Janet hesitated, so he went on encouragingly, "You say 'Helm's a-lee!' Loudly, because everyone on deck and below decks needs to know we're tacking! Then turn the wheel to the right!" Janet took a breath, looked back over her shoulder for her tower again, and almost screamed "Helm's a-lee!" as she gingerly turned the wheel a little to the right. "Turn harder!" Bob commanded. "Once we're into the wind, we only have our momentum to get us across!" So Janet turned harder, and Bookworm began to turn more quickly. When the wind was straight ahead, Bob released the left jib sheet, and quickly began pulling in on the other sheet. The mainsail fluttered in front of Janet as the boat continued to turn, and the boom at the bottom of the sail began to move from the left to the right, until the mainsheet snapped taut and the sail began to fill on its new tack. The boat heeled to the right. Janet started to straighten the wheel as she saw her tower come to the front of the boat, and then keep moving left. They were still turning! She began to panic as the boat continued to fall off the wind. "What do I do?!" she screamed at Bob. Bob smiled calmly and said "Turn the wheel the other way until you get your reference point where you want it." Janet turned the wheel left, and as the boat began to respond, her tower drifted from the left back until it was directly in front of her. She then breathed a sigh of relief. "Relax," said Bob, as he came up and sat down beside her and briefly touched her shoulder. "You're doing great." Bob put his hand on the wheel, and, looking up at the sails, said to her "My helm." As he had taught her before the left, she responded "Your helm," and then took her hand off the wheel. Bob adjusted Bookworm's course and said casually, "It's not like driving a car on a paved road. Steering this boat means throwing a plank --the rudder -- around in the water. It doesn't respond as quickly, and if we're not moving through the water, it won't respond at all." She looked at him as he went on. "You have a touch for it, though," he said encouragingly. "Keep at it and you could be a first-class helm right quick." Janet smiled back. Then she took a breath and looked him in the eyes. "Thank you," she said, suddenly bringing her hand up to caress his cheek. Bob caught his breath, and his heartbeat raced. She'd never touched him like that before. Still he tried to nonchalantly shrug his shoulders "I didn't do anything," he said. Now Janet smiled at Bob, a smile full of promise, a smile that made Bob's knees weak and which made him very glad he was sitting down. "Oh yes you did," she said. Then, suddenly, she was leaning into him, and her other arm was now around his neck. She gently pulled him toward her. "You know you did," she whispered, then, for the first time in their relationship, she kissed him. The kiss, like the expression on her face, was full of promise, of hope, of excitement, and Bob sensed that it was also full of barely restrained passion. He wrapped his free hand around her waist and returned her kiss, gently, but in such a way that he let her know of the ardor that had burned within him for almost two months. Bob continued to kiss her until Bookworm demanded his attention. The boat had turned into the wind and come up from its heeled position. Its sails fluttered loudly, as if jealous that Janet had stolen Bob's attention. Bookworm was no longer moving forward. Bob and Janet broke the kiss, looked up at the sails, looked at each other, and both laughed out loud. It was a good laugh. They broke their embrace, but their hands held each other as he said, "This is what it means to be 'in irons.' I'll go forward and backwind the jib. When I do, turn the wheel to the right. As soon as the main fills, steady us up on our previous course." "Okay," she said. But neither of them moved as their hands, seemingly with a mind of their own, refused to let go, and neither could take their eyes off the other. Above them, though, Bookworm's sails fluttered loudly, as if annoyed at the way her crew ignored her. "Okay," he agreed, as slowly, very reluctantly, they parted, both to do their part to get their impatient boat back into sailing trim. Thereafter, the rest of the morning was filled with laughter and more sailing. Under Bob's tutelage, Janet learned all about running a sailboat. As the morning cool gave way to the midday heat, Janet removed her long-sleeve shirt. She caught Bob admiring they way she filled her t-shirt, and though he was quick to glance away, she smiled at him reassuringly. She found herself liking the way he looked at her. And she made sure that he knew she approved. Before they knew it, it was nearly noon, and they were both very hungry. Bob announced "lunchtime!" and before Janet had time to wonder what would happen, Bob took the helm and showed her how to "heave to". With the jib backed, the mainsail squared, and the helm locked down, the boat seemed to hold still, just off the wind, the forces of wind and wave balanced off the rig and the rudder. Then he went below, and a few minutes later came up, with lunch in hand. He had made sandwiches and canned soup; a simple lunch, but given the appetite she had worked up, Janet thought it was one of the tastiest meals she had eaten in a long while. And, she noted, Bob had changed into swim trunks, although he had left his polo shirt on. She liked him in those trunks, but found herself a bit disappointed that he still wore his shirt. But, she thought to herself with a private smile, she was pretty sure that she'd remove him from his shirt before their day was through. Yeah, and maybe even from his swim trunks, too. After lunch, Bob mentioned that they could go swimming in the lake before they continued their voyage. When Janet agreed, he went forward to set the anchor, while she went below to change. She looked at both of her swimsuits, and decided that she was very glad she had brought the bikini. He's waited long enough, she thought to herself. And so have I, she realized, with a sudden burst of ardor. The Voyage Begins She had a wide eyed look of surprise on her face when she greeted me at the door, I was there unannounced and holding a box that was beautifully wrapped in silver foil and a large gold metallic ribbon and bow. Her name was Kathleen and we had been on our second "date" a few days earlier. The first date had been a blind date arranged by a mutual female friend at the office. I really liked her from the moment we met that first evening. She wasn't the "Barbie" bimbo type which made her "OK" in my book long before we had even started our "dinner and a movie" date. She'd met me at her door that first evening and never invited me in; we just went straight from her front porch to my car. As we walked to my car I could tell she was more than a little nervous and very tense. When I instinctively touched her arm to guide her to a place clear of the car door she had flinched as if she'd been stabbed with a sharp tack. Once we were in the car and underway, she apologized for her reaction and assured me it was nothing I had done. The rest of the evening I did my best to be the perfect gentleman, just to help put her at ease but as the evening progressed it didn't seem like I was having much success. After a great dinner of mesquite grilled seafood I suggested we walk over to the nearby pier where we could enjoy the spectacle of the surf breaking on the beach. It was a short walk and surprisingly light crowds for a Friday evening. We'd walked in silence for a few minute before we found a bench where we sat in silence and enjoyed a stunning view of the setting sun as it disappeared beyond the end of the pier. As the sun sank below the horizon the boardwalk lights came on and she finally started to talk. Like me she was divorced. I'd been "free" for 3 years by then, she had finalized hers about 6 month earlier. Our conversation, once started, went on for hours before she finally began to visibly relax. At some point I looked at my watch and realized we'd been talking so long that we'd missed the start time for the last showing of the movie we had planned to see. When I told her, she wasn't disappointed. When I asked her if she wanted to talk some more or wanted me to take her home. She said she was enjoying the company as well as the sound of the ocean and wanted to stay a little longer. By the time the conversation had ended that night I knew very few details about Kathleen or her life. At one point she had let slip that she'd "suffered" through what she described as four "failed" marriages. I didn't ask for details. If her four had been anything like the one marriage I'd been in neither one of us needed to re-live that "crap" and spoil the evening. This was supposed to be a quiet and relaxing time. That first evening ended at her door much as it had started. She didn't invite me in, but she did tell that she had really enjoyed our time. I asked her if she would like to try it again sometime in the next week or two and she told me that she'd let me know in a couple of days. I wasn't sure what that meant so I didn't try to kiss her goodnight but took her hand in mine and brought it to my lips for a gentle, friendly kiss. That was just my way of remaining the gentleman and letting her know I enjoyed our time too. The next day our mutual friend at the office "captured" me in the hallway and asked me how my evening with Kathleen had gone. I told her I had thoroughly enjoyed myself but wasn't sure about Kathleen. She told me to meet her for lunch around 11:30 so we could "talk" some more. Over lunch she proceeded to fill me in on a few of the missing details about her very close friend Kathleen. They had known each other since high school and college. Kathleen had been raised in a very strict religious family and after college had married into a family that was close friends of her parents. Her first husband wasn't really all that bad; he just held some "different" views about marriage. His "religious" belief was that he was the "head" of the household and that his wife was there to do his bidding. There was very little show of affection in private and absolutely none in public. Sex was strictly for the enjoyment of the man of the house. Evidently he had no idea that a woman could even experience pleasure from the "dirty" act of sex. The second husband was a drunk and would slap Kathleen into submission when he wanted sex. I guess that was his idea of "foreplay". The third husband was a cold bastard that insisted sex was done only with all the lights off. He didn't have a clue that a woman could enjoy sex, either. So every six months or so he would crawl on top with little fanfare and pump for 4 or 5 minute before he'd climax and roll over and fall asleep. The fourth was a worthless asshole that married Kathleen so he wouldn't have to work. He didn't really initiate sex with Kathleen the entire time they had been married. In fact he never even touched her intimately during the time that they'd been together. It ended when Kathleen discovered he'd had an "old girlfriend" on the side that was satisfying all of his needs. She concluded her tale with; "So Kathleen, at age 46, has never experienced intimate caresses or loving kisses. And if you ever tell her that I told you all of this and what I'm about to tell you, your ass will be dead meat." She paused for seconds to take a deep breath and concluded with "And at 46 she has never even come close to having an orgasm." With that she was done and sat staring into my eyes without uttering another word. I sensed she was waiting for a reply (duh) and the next move was mine. My response was a simple; "Why me?" Her answer really shocked me. "I overhear a lot of 'male' conversations around the office. Those guys brag about their latest and greatest conquests and how they had 'pounded' their poor partner for a good 10 or 15 minutes before 'rewarding' the poor girl with copious amount of their potent semen." She paused for a moment before continuing. Her next words brought a brief blush to my cheeks. "You, on the other hand, I've only heard one or two times and you only spoke about how incredible it had been to watch your partner as she climaxed for the third or fourth time in the fifty or sixty minutes you had been 'making love'." Later at my desk I received a call from Kathleen. She invited me to her place for a home cooked meal Friday after work. I told her I was looking forward to our second "date" she closed by telling me she was too and I should be there around 6:00. The dinner was great and as we sat on the sofa afterwards with a glass of wine we talked. It was a delightful conversation and it was obvious that Kathleen was relaxed as we chatted. I really liked this lady but as we talked the lunch with our mutual friend was replaying in the back of my mind. The conversation was very light but eventually came around to the subject of intimacy. Kathleen grew tense with the change of topics. I wanted her to know without being too graphic that intimacy was a BIG part of my life and VERY important to me. Her words didn't surprise me; "I know it is important for men, but I don't really have much need for that sort of thing." My question, although I knew the answer, was; "Don't you enjoy intimacy? Don't you enjoy the touching, caressing, feeling your partner's warm body pressed against yours and the sharing of pleasure?" "Like I said its all for the man, women don't feel those things!" was her reply. I took a deep breath before starting. "I like you a lot Kathleen. I have enjoyed our time together and you are smart, witty and intelligent. You are VERY attractive too." Then I put on my scientific face and proceeded; "Did you know that the intimate touch between a mother and her newborn baby produces hormones in both the mother and child that are more addictive than the most addictive drugs?" I paused a second before I continued; "Those same hormones are produced with real intimacy between a man and a woman." I let that sink in for a moment before I started again. "Unfortunately a large portion of our adult population has no idea that that is the case. I'm ashamed to admit that many of my 'fellow males' don't know anything about any of this. I'm even more ashamed that many of those same men have no idea what it is like to experience their partner actually having pleasure from their joined act of intimacy. Most have never even seen their partners have a REAL orgasm." "So if they don't know any better, how are we supposed to expect them to even know what they need to do to make it pleasurable for the woman?" "And a woman, how is she supposed to know unless she has been told such things? They don't tell you about that in High School do they?" "No." was her short reply. I could tell by the look in her eyes that she wasn't sure if she could believe me. I looked her straight in the eyes and asked; "Will you let me do a brief demonstration to prove my point? I promise I'm not going to rape you and I'm not going to hurt you. I'm not even going to touch you below your shoulders. But you will need to relax and trust me. And I want a promise from you that if I convince that what I've just told you is true, with this simple act, that the next time I see you I can prove my point by taking you to the next step. That next step will be a little one but it will be more intimate. I know I can convince you that there is a lot more to intimacy than you have been led to believe and I would very much like to be the person who shows you that." "OK." was all she said. I scooted towards her end of the sofa until I was sitting on the edge of the same cushion she was sitting on. By now she was sitting back in the corner where the arm joined the back of the sofa and turned in my direction so we were almost face to face. I whispered "Relax." Then reached out and placed the side of my index finger under her chin to lift it slightly. As I leaned forward I could feel her tense and her body almost went rigid. "Relax" I whispered again and this time I was close enough that I was sure she could feel the breath of my words on her face. She closed her eyes and made every effort to make the tension leave her body. My eyes were wide open, I wanted to take in every moment of what was about to happen. I wanted to watch her every reaction, good or bad I wanted to commit these next few moments to memory. The exact moment my lips brushed gently across hers she tensed again. "Relax" I breathed more than whispered the word this time as my lips brushed hers once more. Her breath caressed my lips as she sighed. This next time I let my lips pass lightly against hers, more slowly this time. That was probably our first real "kiss". I switched to brief pecks on her lips, chin, nose, eye lids, cheeks and ears. Then I gently bit her lips with my teeth and lips and was rewarded with another deep sigh. I continued to "nip" at her lips, her nose, her ears and now her neck just below her jaw line. I could sense her body actually beginning to relax as her breathing slowed and deepened. My next step was to actually kiss her lips with a little more force behind the kiss. So I leaned in and pressed my lips to hers. She was relaxed but her lips were puckered like an aunt would kiss her nephew. I went back to lightly brushing my lips across hers until the pucker disappeared. My next pass over her lips I let the tip of my tongue brush lightly against her upper lip then the lower one, then down along her jaw line and her neck just below her ear. I sensed a slight shiver pass through her body. I returned to her lips with more force this time and brushed my tongue along the line between them. Another shiver ran through her. I knew she had no idea what to do at this point so I whispered; "Open your lips a little so I can run my tongue across your teeth." Her lips parted just enough to let my tongue caress the smooth surface of her teeth. She was starting to squirm a little by now. So I lightly placed a hand on each of her cheeks and held her face to mine, We had been at this now for several minute so I sat back a little and asked; "Are you ready to stop or do you mind if I keep going? You taste incredible and I would love to do this for as long as you want to." I detected an almost imperceptible nod so I leaned back in for the finally. This time I used my tongue more forcefully and encouraged her with my actions to open her mouth enough to let my tongue enter. I then toyed with the tip of her tongue. The first brief contact elicited another deep sigh and a very faint moan from deep in her chest. So I lifted her tongue with mine and gently sucked it in past my lips. Kathleen paused a moment then her tongue began to wrestle with mine. First they wrested in my mouth and then in hers. As we continued her head moved for the first time under her on control as she tilled it to the side. I followed in the opposite direction. Now she could reach much deeper into my mouth. She was "on the attack" from this point on and aggressively sought out my tongue where ever it happened to be. Her breathing was very rapid now and very deep as she breathed heavily through her nose. By this time her entire body was into her actions and moved very actively as her lust continued to build. I moved my hands to her shoulders and pressed her back breaking the kiss very abruptly. I pushed her back as I leaned back far enough to look at her face as I looked deeply into her eyes. With the look of pure lust in her eyes she attempted to lean forward and kiss me again, but I held her at arms length. There was another sound from deep in her chest, but this time it was genuine frustration. "I think I have proven my point for this evening"; I whispered as I struggled to regain my composure. I knew if we continued I would not be able to keep my promise to not touch her below her shoulders. I glanced at the clock on the mantle and realized that we had been at this for close to two hours. When my eyes went wide with surprise she wanted to know what was "wrong". I simply pointed at the clock. "No way!" she said, but she knew it was true. As she turned back to face me she caught me staring at the very erect nipples that pressed firmly against her blouse. Her loud gasped broke my spell and her hands moved to cover both of her breasts before my gaze returned to her now blushing face. "Did I prove my point?" I asked rather cheekily. Kathleen breathed a deep, deep sigh and begrudgingly admitted that I had. "Well then, I'm going to call it an evening, a very delightful evening at that." I said with a soft chuckle in my voice. As I stood I let the question that was inevitable hang in the air for a moment. "So," I asked; "the next time I see you we take this to the next step?,,, Right?" She couldn't say it so she just nodded her head. "Good!" I said as I looked deep into her eyes trying to detect her true feelings. "I'm looking forward to that!" So there I was, unannounced, standing on her front porch as she greeted me at the door. That foil wrapped box with the large gold metallic ribbon and bow on it was in my hand. She looked at me with surprise, "I didn't expect to see you today!" "I know" I said, "I should have called but I needed to give this to you today." I held out the box to her without actually giving it to her. "You will need to bring this with you when you come to my place Saturday afternoon." "Saturday afternoon? YOUR place?" I detected a note of apprehension in her questions. "Yes," I answered quickly, "Saturday afternoon, my place and dress casual. I promise I won't do anything to harm you in any way. My only intention is to bring you pleasure, as much pleasure as I can in one evening without actually making love to you." "Can I come in for a few minutes? I promise I won't take long, I just want to take a few minutes to let you open this." I held the box out again without actually letting her take it. I could see her trying to figure out what was in the box that we would need for her visit and what insights it would give her about what she could expect on Saturday. She stepped back and invited me into the living room where we had been the other night. There was a book sitting opened face down on the arm of the sofa so I guess she had been reading before I had knocked on her door. It was too far away and the print on the cover was to vague for me to tell what it was that she was reading but she blushed prettily and quickly picked it and returned it to and empty spot of the shelf. I was already sitting on the sofa when she finally sat down. I held out the box and started; "Think of these gifts as, farewell gifts!! Farewell gifts to the feelings of shame and guilt that have been heaped upon you by others throughout your life. Put those feelings and thoughts in your past and step forward into the wonderful world of sensuality" "I am giving them to you to start you on your voyage. I hope that this is just the beginning of many delightful experiences!" "I will show you each gift and describe each as I see them. I will leave it to your imagination as to how each will fit into your 'voyage' as it begins on Saturday." By now she was squirming restlessly where she sat but I definitely had her attention. I handed her the box and told her she should open it now. "It's beautiful" she whispered as she removed the ribbon and bow almost reverently and sat it on the arm of the sofa. With the ribbon off she lifted the foil wrapped lid from the box and sat it aside before she peeked inside. When she did her face confirmed her confusion. "Remember!!" I said softly, "This will be a voyage of the senses, all of them!! I hope with all of my heart that you enjoy these gifts!!" "The first of my gifts to you is, 'my feelings' for you". Think of this Saturday as a map that will lead you on your new adventure!!" I took the box from her and placed it on my lap. "My second gift to you is imprisoned within the three small velvet pouches. Release them at your own risk. Once their power is released, there is no turning back; your life will change forever." With that I reached inside the box and removed the three pouches and held them up for her to see. "These three crystal orbs hold mystical powers that will help you release the sensuality that hides within your soul and screams to be released!! Throughout the centuries, people have known the healing power of crystal!! They have been used by mystics, magicians and sorceresses to heal pains, torments and distress. Use their mystical powers to carry you to the sensual side of life, they will, IF you believe!!" I removed one orb and held it between my thumb and forefinger so we could both look at it while I continued. "The first is a sphere of clear crystal; this is how your mind and heart should be as you take your first steps on this journey." I sat the velvet pouch and orb on her lap and removed the second from its pouch. "The second and third spheres are cut from 'smoky' crystal. They are symbolic of the passions that burn within. They are smoldering, waiting for a breath of fresh air, waiting to burst into full flame." "My third gift to you is a bit of delicate femininity!! It is white, lacy and very sexy!!!" I reached into the box again a pulled out a very small white satin G-string. "It is meant to cover but not conceal. When you wear it, enjoy the free feeling it will create; you should feel 'Covered without feeling confined!!' Wear it when you use the spheres!! Let it caress you softly, while you wear it. Imagine in your mind, that it's my open hand gently pressing against your entrance to help hold the spheres within. Let this small sensual piece of cloth enhance the pressure of the pleasure that builds within you. Let this soft cloth enjoy the way it makes you feel so feminine!"