Patricia wasn't actually Andrew's client. She was his girl friend's sister: A relationship that pretty much barred Andrew from taking her on as a client. Patricia was over from Portugal, staying with them for a few weeks combined holiday and job hunt. She'd had an interview with the BBC world service: If she got the job, she'd find a flat to rent, otherwise she'd return to Lisbon.
Elena, Andrew's girlfriend, was a dancer and her rehearsal schedule had given Patricia and Andrew a lot of evenings together. Andrew was a professional good listener and, before she knew it, Patricia was telling him her life story.
The solution for Patricia's self-confidence issues was not something Andrew would ever even contemplate. It had come from Elena, His girlfriend. Late one night, as she nestled against his shoulder in post-coital reverie, Elena had said "She's a virgin. Did she tell you that?"
"Honey Bunny, you know I can't discuss your sister. Ethics."
"Poo! She's not - couldn't be - your client. Ethics."
"Still - its not appropriate to discuss her. She's learning to trust me and that's a fragile thing. Lets talk about something else - what to do with this stiffy for instance." He raised the duvet with one hand and admired his second wind.
"That's what I'm trying to discuss." Elena rolled on top of him, straddling his hips and pushing herself upright. "Patricia's a virgin - that's her problem. This..." She slid backwards, pressing her bottom against his erection. "...This is the cure."
"You're joking." He looked at Elena's eyes. She didn't look like she was joking.
"I love my sister. I want her to be happy. Tell me that this won't work." She rocked against his cock again.
"It won't. Sure, she needs to get laid, but not by me. She's your sister for Christ's sake! I am not going to sleep with your sister: That'd screw her up in a whole new way. It'd screw us up too, eventually."
"You think I will be jealous?"
"I love you. I won't even risk making you jealous."
"I won't be jealous. You and Patricia are the two people I love most in all the world. She needs this." She looked severely sincere.
"She'd never sleep with her sister's boyfriend. The guilt would stop her, even if I did make a play for her." He couldn't believe what he was hearing himself say. Was he seriously discussing deflowering his potential sister-in-law?
"She has a crush on you."
"Really?" Surely he'd have noticed. It was a common problem in his line of work. Trust often translated into fixation.
"Yes, really. And you are very persuasive."
"You seduced me - on our first date too." She smiled as she said it but it raised a valid point. He was 15 years older than Elena and, by the conventional rules, she was way out of his league. She had been 20, talented, startlingly pretty and as bubbly as shook champagne: He'd met her at his own 35th birthday bash. A workout buddy had brought her along as a date. She'd stood her date up by 10pm and that was that. She moved in the following weekend. Every time he looked in the mirror he wondered at his great good fortune. He wasn't bad looking - for 37. An hour a day fighting the battle of the bulge at the gym had given him a reasonable physique though nothing like the male dancers Elena knew so many of. His penis wasn't world beating either - seven inches, perhaps a little more on special occasions and good for two performances a night but nothing to write home about. Yet Elena seemed so happy with him. Best not to dig too deeply into why.
"You're really serious about this, aren't you?"
"Yes." She pressed back harder.
Andrew could feel the heat of her arousal as Elena's labia pressed against his penis: She was really turned on. The whole prospect was actually exciting her, in which case... It might well be...
His train of thought careered into a tunnel as Elena moved again, guiding his cock with slim fingers into her body and sinking back down onto his hips, gyrating slowly.
"Ok...ok...But you're gonna have to come clean with her after: Tell her it was your idea."
Elena looked delighted as she flung herself forward and kissed him. That was settled then. As their kiss drew out, his hips started to rock, pistoning him gently inside her. Elena moved in response and their rhythm soon established itself. There was no more talking, just a sharing of body fluids at either end and a frenzy of roaming hands in between. Elena controlled the pace from on top, upping the tempo to the full flash dance pace before climaxing loud and long as Andrew, going rigid, unloaded into her for the second time that night.
In the darkness, in the guest room, Patricia's cheeks were wet as she listened to the muffled sound of her sister's orgasm. It wasn't the first time - they seemed to be at it every night - but it was the loudest, most obviously ecstatic yet and it all just rubbed salt in Patricia's emotional wounds. Nobody had ever made her feel that good. When the silence returned, she cried herself to sleep.
* * * * *
Patricia finally opened up fully the evening of Elena's final rehearsal. She talked very candidly about a variety of issues she'd previously avoided, even responding positively when Andrew tested how far this new found candour went by asking some seriously personal questions. It was a level of trust born of desperation, but trust nonetheless.
She summarised her self-image problem with an outburst of, "Nobody wants to fuck a hunchback." Followed by tears behind trembling hands.
"Hunchback? A bit of an exaggeration surely?" It was a very minor curvature: so minor that until Elena had told him, he'd originally thought it was just bad posture.
"It's not an exaggeration."
"Well I don't see it. Show me."
"Show you what?"
"Show me this hump you're going on about. Take off your blouse and show me what all the fuss is about."
"I don't need to take anything off, it's obvious."
"Its obvious that your back is curved but I want to see it in the flesh, so to speak. Take off your blouse please."
A little puzzled and a little mesmerised by the calm monotone of his voice, Patricia started to unfasten the buttons of her blouse. She got to the last button before 23 years of Catholic indoctrination reasserted itself and her hands dropped to her lap, along with her gaze. After a few seconds' silence, she started to sob again.
He crossed the room to where she sat and drew her to her feet. Her gaze was still resolutely downward but she offered no resistance. Walking backwards, he led her to the large mirror and rail he had bought for Elena to exercise with. Turning Patricia to face herself, He stood close behind her with his hands on her shoulders.
"One more button."
Her shaking fingers fumbled with the button but succeeded in unfastening it.
Andrew could feel his penis swelling at the prospect of seduction. Elena had repeatedly asked him to seduce Patricia, every night for the last week, and the idea had grown into something of a fantasy for him too. And sisters were a common enough male fantasy.
As the last button yielded, he stroked her blouse from her shoulders, letting it slide down her arms where it hung like loose cotton manacles around her forearms. He carefully swept aside her long, auburn hair, draping it over one of her shoulders to expose her back. A pale scar ran down her spine for 7 or 8 vertebrae, bisected by her bra strap. He touched it gently, feeling her stiffen. Her reflection was still gazing at the carpet.
"Look at us." His free hand reached around to raise her chin. Slowly her eyes followed and met his in the mirror. "Good." His fingers, touching the scar, traced its length downwards. She shivered. "This is in the way." He tapped the clasp of her bra to indicate his meaning then, without giving her time for cold feet, he unfastened the hooks. Her hands shot up to cup the fabric against her breasts but at least now her back was naked. He stroked her spine with the flat of his hand, feeling the slight curvature, the subtly different texture of the scar and the trembling of the girl. He felt like a predator and it excited him. He reached around to embrace her, placing his hands over hers and easing them downwards to free her bosom. She tried to look away.
"Watch us." He whispered in her ear, drawing her hands free of her breasts. They were surprisingly well shaped and much fuller than her sister's. He gazed at them in the mirror then slowly place his hands where hers had been, cupping a breast in each, covering her nipples.
There were fresh tears on her cheeks as she watched herself in the mirror. She sniffled and tried to object but he cut her off.
"I have a question for you. Will you answer me truthfully?" It was such an odd request that, dumbfounded, she could only nod.
Andrew pressed his throbbing crotch against the small of her back and said, "Am I a pervert who just wants to fuck a hunchback?"
"N-No." She stammered.
"Correct. I'm just a man aroused by the half naked girl in his arms. You have lovely breasts. See." He took his hands away, revealing nipples that had responded to being touched by standing tall and proud. "See. Lovely." He cupped one hand under one breast, this time not hiding the perky pink bit. His other hand stroked her flat smooth belly - so much softer than Elena's six pack - until his fingers slipped into the top of her jeans up to the last knuckle. His fingertips could just reach the waistband of her panties. "Unfasten your jeans."
"B-but Elena...I-I can't..."
"Elena loves you. She has given us her blessing." It sounded melodramatic but this was a 23 year old catholic virgin. "Unfasten your jeans."
Her fingers obeyed him, even while her face registered fear and apprehension. The zip broke the silence, revealing a glimpse of white cotton. The button caused her more difficulty, tight as the jeans were with his fingers crammed into them. He didn't offer any help. She had to do this herself. It took a while but she got there. As the jeans parted, his hand advanced inside her underwear, smoothing down her pubes - lots of pubes - until he could cup her sex in his hand. The knowledge that he was the first to touch Patricia intimately was making his erection painful in his own pants. He pressed her against it.
"Tell me what you want right now." He whispered. His fingers massaged her labia, feeling the moisture and warmth she wouldn't be able to deny.
"I-I" She broke down in sobs again, trying to cover her face.
"Tell me." His voice was soft, kind but insistent.
"Make me a woman!" She blurted. More catholic melodrama.
"You will give me your virginity?" He pressed the point.
"Yes." She was still crying but there was fire in her eyes too now, a fitting match for the heat under his slick fingers. He swept her up in his arms and carried her to the bedroom. Setting her on her feet again, he slipped her panties and jeans down in one swift motion, leaving them around her ankles as he urged her back onto the bed. Kneeling, he parted her knees and got his first real look at what makes a virgin. She didn't even trim her pubic hair. Auburn curls spread all over her mons veneris and all but hid her labia. He parted the undergrowth with his fingers, drawing open like petals her outer lips. Leaning forward, he kissed the soft wet flesh before starting to lick and tease her pussy, wanting her to enjoy an orgasm to loosen her up before the painful moment of actual defloration. His delving tongue actually found her intact hymen and his cock throbbed all the harder at the realization.
Patricia lay back, lost in the sensations. Her mind was awash with thoughts of sin and guilt and all the reasons this was wrong and of her sister and her priest and ... but none of the fleeting thoughts was enough to cling to in the storm of sensations that was blowing in from the nether regions. She had never experienced anything like this before. Even the few times she had touched herself, she'd felt only enough to confirm that it must be sinful and stopped. She'd confessed to the priest once and been severely chastised for defiling her body.
The sensations and delirium grew and grew until they were the only things there was any room for. Still they grew, until she felt she would explode if it didn't stop. Then she exploded. Her whole body shook with the force of her first ever orgasm. She was too far away from reality to hear her own voice screaming in climactic abandon. The storm subsided, the following calm washed over her and she lay in the warmth of contentment, breathing heavily as Andrew ran his tongue over the very edges of her pussy, mopping up her juices and sending little aftershocks through her body.
Andrew stood and quickly undressed, freeing his rock hard-on at last. He knelt again to gently remove Patricia's jeans and panties from around her ankles. He admired his handiwork, wishing he could capture the image for posterity - Patricia lying legs akimbo with her blouse open but still on and her little pink ankle socks. But he had a job to do. He raised her legs until her calves rested against his shoulders then shuffled closer, his cock bobbing to and fro as it inched toward her now well lubricated vulva.
Patricia finally opened her eyes as his glans nudged her hole.
"Ready?" He asked her, holding her hips in preparation for the plunge.
She nodded and he thrust forward as hard as he could, meeting only momentary resistance from her maidenhead as he tore through it and buried his cock to the hilt in her. Patricia squealed in high C at the sharp pain but Andrew remained perfectly motionless inside her, waiting for the discomfort to pass.
When she opened her eyes again, he slowly started to withdraw then, still ever so slowly, pushed back into her, watching for signs of pain.
"Does that hurt?" He asked
"A little. But it's not bad."
"The worst is over. You're a woman at last. How do you feel?" He continued to stroke in and out gently.
"Sore... but wonderful."
"See that?" He withdrew halfway and pointed to her vagina. Patricia propped herself up on her elbows to see. There was a trace of blood on his penis. "That's the remains of your virginity." He pushed back in, picking up the pace a fraction to test the waters. She didn't wince so he carried on, picking up steady speed.
Patricia lay back again as the newfound sensations of pleasure warmed her and eased away the discomfort. She was feeling all warm and fuzzy inside when Andrew tensed and something scaldingly hot flooded her insides. As he relaxed, she realized he had come.
Andrew slipped out of her slick hole and stood shakily before flopping onto the bed beside her and drawing her close.
They kissed. Patricia noticed how odd his mouth tasted but it was a few seconds before it dawned on her that what she was tasting was her. The realization froze her momentarily, prompting concerned looks from Andrew. It wasn't a bad taste though: She kissed him again. The phone rang.
Patricia practically levitated off the bed, her expression one of shock and guilt simultaneously. Reflexively, she started to fasten her blouse, only succeeding in getting it even more entangled with her bra.
Andrew made a long arm and picked up the receiver. "Hi Honey Bunny." He took a guess it would be Elena. "...We've had a lovely evening. How were rehearsals?" He watched Patricia scrabbling for her knickers while Elena explained that they would be rehearsing very late and she was going to stay over at Bettina's flat as they had last minute stuff to discuss before tomorrow's opening night. "...Sure Honey. You have a good time. Don't stay up too late." Patricia had one leg back in her jeans now. "... I'm taking your sister to The Sanctuary tomorrow." This was a personal code to tell Elena that he'd seduced her sister because he'd stressed that a full make-over was an essential part of her 'treatment'. On the other end of the phone Elena was elated at the news. "...Yes, everything's fine here." Patricia was fastening her jeans. "... See you tomorrow night, Darling. Kisses." After a few seconds more, Andrew stretched to hang up the phone and appeared to notice Patricia, fully dressed, for the first time since she'd fled his bed.
"Elena's very happy for you. She says to tell you she loves you."
Patricia fell to her knees and buried her face in the duvet, sobbing her heart out.
Andrew had expected this. The guilt of sleeping with her sister's boyfriend combined with the catholic guilt of... well... being catholic, had caught up with her. He stood, bollock naked and lifted her to her feet. She struggled a little but soon clung to him, hiding her face on his shoulder and blubbering. As he held her close, he let his hands wander over her bottom and her back, stroking the curve of her spine from the nape of her neck down to the small of her back. After a few minutes, she was all sobbed out. He eased her away from his shoulder and kissed her puffy eyelids and tear streaked, still wet cheeks. When he got to her mouth, her lips slightly parted and tremulous, he kissed her forcefully, passionately, using his hands on her ass to pull her hips against his. When she started to return the kiss properly, he knew she was past the worst of the guilty feeling.
He undressed her again, unfastening the buttons himself this time, then led her into the bathroom and turned on the shower. It wasn't a proper cubicle, just an electric shower over the bathtub and a plastic psycho curtain. However, there was room for two. He urged her under the warm water and took his time washing her thoroughly, lingering when he reached her mat of pubes. It'd been several first times for him too: First time with a virgin, first time with a girl who'd never even trimmed her hair down there and first time he'd fucked two sisters. He was feeling very good about how it had all worked out. He made sure Patricia's pussy was clean - it had been a bit musky after a day in tight jeans and he'd given her no time to freshen up.
When he'd rinsed her off, she washed him. His penis had risen steadily as he soaped her up and she'd watched its rise with fascination. Now it firmed up under her slippery caress and the tingle of warm water. By the time he was clean, he was also ready for a second bite of the cherry.
They towelled each other off and went to bed. Patricia was very quiet as she snuggled against him and he realized that she was going to be too sore for another fuck and it was too soon to introduce her to the art of fellatio. Resigned, he closed his eyes and slept. Tomorrow was soon enough for talking and fucking. At least she'd stopped crying.
* * * * *
Patricia woke to find Andrew sitting on the side of the bed in a bath robe, sipping coffee. There was a second steaming cup on the bedside table.
"Good morning Sleepy Head." He put down his cup and bent over to buzz her lips. "How're you feeling today? Sore?" As he straightened up he flicked back the duvet, revealing her naked body to the knees. She instinctively tried to cover up but he caught her wrist and drew the five-finger fig leaf aside. She relaxed, easing her thighs a little as his hand sought a path between them. His fingers on her sex felt good and she spread her knees wider.
"It's a little sore." She winced as his index finger explored a fraction too far. "But... If you want to..."
He smiled at her offer. "Not this morning." He noted how crestfallen she suddenly looked. "Sweet Patricia, there isn't time. You have a busy day ahead of you. Go and have a quick shower to freshen up because you're due at The Sanctuary in less than an hour."
"Its sort of a health club. I booked you an appointment yesterday for the works: A full make-over. You want to look your very best for Elena's opening night, don't you?"
"No buts. Except maybe your butt out of bed and into the bathroom, right now." He slapped what little of her bottom he could reach to punctuate the order.
While Patricia showered, Andrew sat on the edge of the tub and explained her itinerary for the day.
"You'll love it. The Sanctuary is a women only health club. Elena goes there quite often. I'm surprised she hasn't told you about it. You must promise me one thing though. I want you to put yourself entirely in their hands. Think of them as your fairy godmothers because, Cinderella, you are going to the ball tonight.
"What are they going to do?" She wasn't sure what they would do that might require such a promise.
"Just promise to trust them...and me. Ok?"
"Is that a promise? No crossed fingers?"
Patricia laughed for the first time in days. "It's a promise. No crossed anything." She faced him with feet apart and hands and fingers outstretched.
They were five minutes late getting to The Sanctuary in Covent Garden. At the reception desk, Andrew handed Patricia over to the tender mercies of two pretty blondes in white tunics. As soon as she was out of earshot, he turned to the receptionist.
"She has some self esteem issues. I need her to be a swan by 6pm: Everything from hair to toenails - everything. No expense spared."
The receptionist nodded her understanding. "We don't usually do hair but Trevor Sorbie, just next door, usually manage to fit our clients in.
"Fine. I also need all her measurements. I have..." he glanced at his watch. "Less than 8 hours to get her an evening dress and all the trimmings."
"Less than 6 hours." The receptionist corrected. "If you want her makeup to match her outfit."
"Good point." Andrew was grateful for the insight. He wouldn't have thought of it.
"If you'll just take a seat, I'll get those sizes for you." The receptionist disappeared through a door and was back in about 10 seconds. "Cleo will bring them to you in a few minutes."
"Thank you." Andrew sat and waited. Cleo turned out to be one of the white clad blondes who'd taken Patricia away. She handed him a folded slip of paper, smiled warmly and went back to her work. As he rose to leave, a thought struck him and he turned to the receptionist. "Miss. One more question if I may."
"I thought perhaps something in a deep wine red. D'you think that would go with her colouring?"
"As long as it's very deep. Black is always a good second choice."
"You're welcome, Sir."
He got to Selfridge's a few minutes later and headed for the women's formalwear department.
It wasn't difficult to find a shop assistant. All he had to do was stand in the middle of the shop looking out of place.
"Can I help you, Sir?" A very well presented sales assistant asked. Andrew was pleased to see she was over 18. He needed someone with judgement and experience for this.
"Yes. I need a complete outfit for the theatre tonight. Here are the young lady's measurements." He handed her the folded paper. Cleo had thoughtfully jotted down Patricia's colouring too - Auburn hair, brown eyes, light tan.
"I see. It will not have to be too fitted." She gestured what fitted meant in this context.
"No. She also has a slight curvature of the spine. Only slight though. It looks like bad posture but she is very self-conscious about it so nothing low cut at the back. Low at the front is fine. She has a rather impressive front."
"I see." The assistant glanced at the measurements again. "Indeed. Any particular colour Sir?"
"I thought perhaps a dark wine colour... or black." He remembered the receptionist's advice.
"Very well Sir. I'll see what we have. One moment please."
She came back with an armful of dresses but one really caught his eye as the top half - the bodice, she called it - was semi-transparent Lycra. It was only decent because of a matching pashmina shawl. The skirt was three layers of equally gossamer fabric and long and full. It was just the colour he'd envisaged - deep port wine red. Realizing that he had made his choice, the assistant put that dress to one side and handed the rest to another girl to return to the rails.
In the next half hour she selected, and he approved, a black bra with gold embroidery that would show through the dress to great effect, matching panties, thong backed at his insistence, moiré hold-up stockings, black patent pumps with medium high heels and a matching clutch bag.
Relieved at the ease with which he'd got a whole ensemble, he handed over his credit card and signed on the line.
Back at the Sanctuary, there was a hitch. Patricia was adamant nobody was going near her bikini line. Andrew had half expected this. He wrote her a note and one of the staff took it through to her.
"Patricia, You promised. Love, Andrew."
It did the trick. He left the clothes with the receptionist and told her he would be back at 6pm. Then he went home to call Elena.
* * * * *
"Did my little Iberian bunny sleep well?" Andrew asked.
"Good morning Darling. Yes, I slept well...but I missed you." Elena sounded sleepy.
"I missed you too, Honey Bunny."
"Poo! You were sleeping with my sister. I bet you didn't even notice I wasn't there until you had to make your own coffee." There wasn't a hint of jealousy in Elena's voice, which was a relief.
"I did miss you. Patricia has no technique. Besides, I only did it because I love you."
"And I love you. Did you make her very happy?"
"I think so but you must ask her yourself, tonight. She's getting her Cinderella treatment right now. We had a little difficulty getting her to let them do her bikini line. I had to get all bossy."
"Was it very bad?"
"Honey, you wouldn't believe it. She looked like one of those 1940's dirty postcards. More Brazilian rainforest than Brazilian."
"Poor boy!" Her voice dripped amused sarcasm.
"Elena..." He hesitates.
"Whatever else happens tonight... you mustn't let Patricia go back to the guest room. She'd cry herself to sleep and wake up with enough guilt to screw her up for life."
"I know. Relax, Darling. Nobody's sleeping in the guest room tonight."
"Hmm." Andrew can only view the prospect with optimism. "Meanwhile, all set for the performance?"
"All set. You'll come backstage afterwards, yes? I've put your names on the list at stage door."
"Darling, I have to love you and leave you. Bettina wants me for something."
"Ok Honey. I'll see you later. Love you."
"Love you too." She blew him a kiss and hung up.
Andrew sat back and smiled to himself. What a girl!
* * * * *
A few minutes shy of 6PM, Andrew turned up at The Sanctuary togged out in his best suit. He'd found time to get his own haircut during the afternoon and felt he looked about as sharp as he could at his age.
The receptionist was a different girl, which made sense when he thought about it. He explained he was here to collect a customer called Patricia. This the receptionist knew about: She called another member of staff to fetch the client. Andrew offered his credit card to settle the bill while he waited, glancing at the bottom line and nearly fainting. Ouch! He just hoped it was gonna be worth it.
Patricia came through the twin doors into reception looking... radiant. Andrew swallowed and immediately forgot about the cost. She beamed at his reaction and twirled, letting the skirt flare.
"Well?" She asked.
"Cinderella, you shall go to the ball!" He grinned and offered her his arm. "Thank you ladies. I, for one, appreciate the magic you have wrought." He felt his arm squeezed against Patricia's side in sort of a semi-hug and turned to kiss her cheek. No more than that: he didn't want to mess with her make-up.
As they strolled arm in arm through Covent Garden, to the Opera Terrace, for a pre-theatre dinner, Andrew marvelled at the change in Patricia's deportment. She moved with more confidence, seeming to walk with more swing in her hips. Her skirt - she loved his choice - swished against his leg, rustling gently. It was a mild evening and she let the pashmina slip down to her elbows, revealing for the first time just how sheer the bodice was. Andrew pulled up short to use a shop window as an impromptu mirror. Her bosom looked spectacular, the gold threads shimmering through the gossamer.
"What are you looking at?" Patricia asked, seeing nothing in the shop window worth so much attention.
"You're breasts." He breathed. His voice was low and a little husky.
"Oh!" Her body language changed immediately, she looked shy, about to blush.
"They're... If you'd looking like this yesterday, you could have given your virginity to any man."
"I couldn't have looked like this yesterday." She turned to face him, taking both his hands in hers. "Andrew, thank you for last night. I'm so glad it was you who..."
To hell with her make-up. He leant in to kiss her and was met halfway. He was surprised that she still had her lippy on when they separated.
"Kiss proof lipstick." She explained. "I hoped I'd need it." She looked coyly from beneath immaculate lashes. Shyness suited her - in small doses.
Once they were seated at a suitably quiet table, with drinks ordered, Andrew wanted to know everything about her make over.
"Waxing is horrible...And you made them do that to me." She tried to look cross. "And down there..."
"Down where?" he played dumb.
"You know where I mean." She blushed a little at the thought of it.
"But I want to hear you say it." He grinned at her discomposure.
"My pussy." She whispered, blushing yet more. "There! Are you satisfied now?"
"Hardly. Patricia, you are beautiful. Tonight men will see you and want you. They will kiss your hand and want to kiss your pussy. They will touch your arm and want to touch your breasts. They will see you dressed like this and want to see you undressed. Just allow yourself to be desired and men will desire you. You are beautiful. Say it."
"I am beautiful." She sounded uncertain.
"Say it and believe it."
"I am beautiful." This time she sounded more sincere.
"Better. Keep saying it to yourself and keep believing it. Now, what else did they do to you?"
"There was the spray tan-"
"You already had a tan."
"Not all over." She blushed again.
"Interesting. Go on." He prompted.
"A sauna and a massage. That was very relaxing. Hair." She flounced the cascade of ringlets that had been flat and straight that morning. The hairdresser had been very sensitive to her concerns about her back. He'd layered her hair and lightly permed it so it completely de-emphasised her 'hump'.
"It looks terrific." Andrew felt another compliment was due.
"Nails." She held up her hands to show him her manicure. Shimmering nail polish matched her dress. "Toes too. Then Cleo did my eyebrows and make-up. Then you arrived." She finished, looking for all the world like a little girl who's just reeled off the memorized list of all her birthday presents in one breath.
Throughout dinner, his gaze kept wandering to her breasts. She smiled to herself, strangely unembarrassed by his fixation. She actually wiggled them to get his attention. He glanced up. It was his turn to feel embarrassed.
"I love your sister but I've always been what we Brits call a tit-man and," He looked wistful, "the one thing Elena doesn't have is cleavage. She's going to turn green with envy when she sees you."
"Elena will never be jealous of me."
"Not you, your cleavage, because she knows what I like." He gestured to a waiter for their bill. "Shall we go?" He stood, and offered her a hand.
* * * * *
They took a black cab south of the river to the Young Vic. Patricia clung to his arm as they mingled among the familiar faces in the foyer. Andrew made introductions here and there but Patricia was more than a little shy. She smiled sweetly enough but she was very quiet and her shawl was clutched tightly about her.
It didn't go unnoticed. At the first convenient moment he guided her out of the throng and into a suitably secluded corner to administer some direct therapy. When he'd finished kissing her, he pointed her in the direction of the ladies room to freshen up her lipstick. It wasn't entirely kiss proof. He didn't have long to wait and, as Patricia returned looking suitably unmolested, the bell signalled that it was time to take their seats.
In the dark silence of the auditorium, her hand nestled in his. Watching Elena gyrate and leap about the stage he was reminded of all the interesting applications of grace and flexibility that had become such a feature of their private lives. She really was exceptionally sexy - even clothed. His erotic daydreaming was interrupted by warm breath against his ear.
"She's wonderful, isn't she?" Patricia whispered.
Andrew turned to whisper back "Yes, but I'm biased."
Dance is a physical language. Right now, ricocheting between to male dancers, Elena's movements said to Andrew, somewhere beyond the footlights, "Fuck me!" and every possible synonym. Andrew was rigid, a common reaction to Elena's performances. Her work almost always turned him on. On an impulse, he guided Patricia's hand to his thigh, letting her feel the hot hard bulge of his excitement. He leant within whispering range again without taking his eyes off the dance.
"Like I said - biased."
"Patricia left her hand where he'd put it, feeling the monster throb as they watched her sister fall into Bettina's arms and the two girls sink into a slow adagio death scene.
The performance ended, the cast took their bows to rapturous applause, the house lights came up and Andrew and Patricia headed out of the theatre.
"This is not for me, is it?" Patricia had stopped them, turned to face Andrew and had her hand on his only slightly softening erection. She looked sad, as if realizing that here too she could not hope to compete with Elena.
"It's for both of you." He held both her shoulders and looked serious. "Tonight I have the difficult job of pleasing both of the Albuquerque sisters. Do you think for one instant that I won't enjoy trying?"
"But you love her." There were the first traces of tears in the corners of her eyes but she hadn't let go of his penis, which was a good sign.
"So do you. We both love her and she loves both of us."
"And...I love you." Patricia struggled to say it. She meant it, or thought she did.
"Patricia, You're a very sweet girl but yesterday you were still a virgin. Circumstances being what they are, I'm not surprised your emotions are playing merry hell with you. You're attracted to me: this I knew some time back. I'm attracted to you: this you know because the penis never lies." That made her realize where her hand was. It fell to her side. "Desire and attraction are reasons enough but they're not the same as love. Now dry your eyes and lets go dangle you in front of some more men. Maybe one of them will make you a better offer for tonight." He smiled at her and kissed her forehead. She managed to smile back.
As they reached the stage door, she stopped him again. "Andrew."
"I-I don't want any better offers for tonight." She was blushing as she peered up at him through her lashes, looking vulnerable in a way contrived to make any man want to take advantage.
It occurred to Andrew that Patricia was a very quick learner. "Good. Let's go and see your sister."
* * * * *
"Honey Bunny! You were terrific." Andrew pushed through the press of assorted theatricals dragging Patricia in his wake. He swept Elena into a one armed embrace and kissed her firmly. "Allow me to introduce Miss Patricia Albuquerque, your sister." He relaxed his grip on Elena's waist and drew Patricia forward.
Elena's mouth opened, but no sound came out. Her eyes widened, she glanced at Andrew then back at Patricia, then her vocal cords caught up. She squealed delightedly and bounced forward to hug her sister.
"What a change! I leave you alone for a couple of days and... this!" She stepped back and guided Patricia into a self-conscious twirl. "Sis, you look beautiful. Take off the pashmina. Let me see this dress properly." Elena drew the shawl from Patricia's unprotesting grip. "Oh my! You walked around London in this?"
"He made me." Patricia nodded towards Andrew. "I'd better have the shawl back. People stare."
"I'll bet they do, Sis. Let them. I couldn't wear that, even with a Wonderbra."
"I told you she'd be envious." Andrew interjected.
"I'm not envious." Elena chided him. "I'm in awe of my beautiful sister. Here, hold this." She thrust the shawl into Andrew's hands. "Patricia, come and meet the company." Elena took her sister's hand and bounced off with her in tow.
"Bettina! Bettina, this is my sister, Patricia. Patricia, Bettina choreographed the show as well as dancing. Didn't she do a simply marvellous job?"
"Hello." Patricia smiled a greeting. "It was a wonderful show. Congratulations."
"Thank you. You live in Cascais, yes? Are you staying in London long?" Bettina had heard quite a bit about Elena's sister, being Elena's closest friend as well as dance partner.
"Lisbon. The rest of the family lives in Cascais. How long I'm staying depends on the BBC."
"Sis has applied for a job with the World Service." Elena filled in.
"Really? Well, fingers crossed..." She held up two fingers, crossed. "Sorry Darlings. I really must love you and leave you. My husband's in this crowd somewhere." And pausing only to air kiss the sisters, she was gone.
Elena urged Patricia through the throng, accepting congratulations from various people that she introduced Patricia to before using her sister as an excuse to not get into long conversations. Eventually, they found the two male members of the company, chatting with Andrew.
"Boys! Where have you been? I've been searching high and low."
In unison, two very well toned, and very 'pretty' men turned to face Patricia.
"We were just getting a rave revue off The Shrink." One opined.
"Boys! Boys!" Andrew laughed "I've told you before. That shower was running cold." Then he looked at Patricia. "You're my friend, Patricia, make them stop picking on me."
"Picking on you?" Patricia looked amused but puzzled.
"One cold shower and for the rest of eternity I'm 'The Shrink'. It's so unfair." He made a show of looking put upon.
Patricia looked blank. This was way over her head. Elena rattled off a few seconds in Portuguese and Patricia burst out laughing.
"Et tu Patricia." Andrew looked hurt. "Boys, meet Elena's sister. Patricia, these two hideously deformed parodies of the masculine form are Carl and Steven." He pointed first left then right.
Carl reached for Patricia's hand, which she let him take, raise to his lips and gently kiss. "Enchanted." He bowed fractionally and stepped back. Steven was less formal, air kissing both her cheeks while clasping both her hands in his.
Patricia could smell the sweat on them. It was somehow, from her new perspective, quite arousing.
She recalled hearing about them from Elena. She recalled being disgusted to hear they were a couple. Her Catholic background had imbued her with strong views on homosexuals. She recalled the great lengths Elena had gone to, to explain that they were really very sweet guys. She recalled how their conspicuously tight tights had held her attention so much on stage while Andrew's cock pulsed under her fingers. She blushed.
"Elena's told me all about you. Are you really getting married this summer?" Elena asked.
"Has she?" said Steven, in a slightly falsetto voice.
"Yes." Said Carl. "Gay marriages only became legal in the UK this year."
"Don't listen to them, Patricia." Said Andrew, drawing Elena to him with a half turn so he could hug her from behind and nuzzle her neck. "They only fake being gay so they can spend all day pawing my girlfriend without getting thumped."
"Actually," answered Steven. "We're only using Elena to get to Andrew. He's far too sensitive to be straight. He's just in denial about his own sexuality." He winked at Patricia. She recognised an opportunity to contribute to the humour of the situation.
"Well..." She looked at the ceiling thoughtfully. "He did pick out this dress for me tonight. Aren't gay men supposed to know a lot about women's clothes?" she looked innocently inquisitive.
"I am not gay!" expounded Andrew. "Tell them, Honey Bunny. Tell them I like girls, not boys."
Elena twisted the knife. She took his hands from where they rested on her stomach and, holding one in each of hers, moved them to her hips. "Snake hips." She said then moved his hands up to her breasts. "No tits. Darling, you've always said you liked my boyish figure." She kept his hands on her bosom. He deserved some reward for being the roast.
"Andrew. You choose this dress?" Carl was studying Patricia's outfit.
"The whole outfit. Yes."
"Shoes too?" Carl followed his train of thought.
"Yes..." Andrew answered, hesitantly. Knowing already he was damning himself.
"You have surprisingly good taste - for a straight man." Carl passed judgement.
"Thank you Carl. Thank you for acknowledging that I'm straight."
"That's not what he said, Darling." Elena laughed. "Enough, boys. Andrew's straight. "
"Thanks Honey." Andrew kissed her ear, still holding her in a hand bra. She twisted in his arms to kiss him properly.
"I'm gonna grab a shower and change. Then we can go home and explore your feminine side's lesbian tendencies." She glued her mouth to his again until the boys stopped jeering.
Andrew and Patricia mingled for a few minutes before meeting Bettina again, this time with her husband. Introductions out of the way, they made small talk until Elena found them all and made polite but urgent noises about going home. After apologies for leaving the first night party so early and kisses and handshakes all round, Andrew found himself pleasantly sandwiched between the sisters, in the back of another black cab.
* * * * *
Andrew just enjoyed the ride while girl-talk happened across him in Portuguese. Patricia was clearly the subject of an interrogation as she was blushing a lot and had difficulty meeting her sister's gaze. Elena reached across to hold her sister's hand and, by her soft tone and earnest expression, Andrew surmised she was telling Patricia personally what Andrew had already relayed about Elena's feelings and/or sleeping arrangements.
Andrew paid the cabbie while the girls went on ahead. By the time he made it inside, one was already in the bathroom. It turned out to be Patricia, which gave him his first, and perhaps last, opportunity of the evening to be alone with his girlfriend. She leapt for his arms, wrapping her legs around him.
"How's she holding up?" He whispered.
"She's doing fine. You've worked a little miracle with her. Thank you my Darling man. Thank you for everything." She smothered him with punctuation kisses.
"It was my pleasure."
"I'm sure it was." She stuck out her tongue. He tried to kiss it.
"You know it's going to get a whole lot weirder in a few minutes?"
"Not weird, just plane kinky. I know you want us both tonight. Patricia told me how you made her touch you while you watched me dance." They kissed some more until Elena spotted Patricia hovering in the doorway. "There she is! Come and join us. Come on!" She beckoned her sister to them, disentangled her legs and let go of Andrew to embrace Patricia, kissing her full on the mouth, but without her tongue. Next, Elena urged her sister into Andrew's arms, so that he could keep her attention elsewhere while Elena, never taking her eyes off them, stripped naked in double-time.
Patricia had seen her sister naked before: Frequently when they were little girls and occasionally around this flat, usually in proximity to the bathroom or while she was changing to go out. This time was different. It was a difference Patricia became acutely conscious of when she found herself in the embrace of a naked girl. She tensed up. She looked suddenly terrified.
Andrew put his arms around Patricia's waist from behind so he could face Elena and whisper to her sister. "Patricia." He used the calm, quiet tones of his professional voice. "Relax." He felt her sag a fraction against him. He let his bulging crotch press against the small of her back, just like last night. "Will you let Elena undress you?"
"I... I..." She tried to hide her face in her hands. Her shoulders heaved as sobs wracked her. Elena looked at Andrew in concern. Andrew just barely shook his head and smiled reassuringly at her. He hugged the distraught girl more firmly, reaching up to her wrists to draw her hands down. She let him.
"Patricia. You can feel me. Can't you?" He waited for her to nod. "You know I want to make love to you: have wanted to since you offered yourself to me this morning. Do you remember offering yourself?" Again he waited. "Do you remember?" A nod. He continued. "And do you want me to make love to you?" Again she nodded, wet eyes screwed shut, unable to look at Elena. "Then say it, Patricia. Tell us what you want. Say the words."
"I... want you... want you to make love... to me." She stammered.
"Thank you. Will you let Elena undress you - for me?"
At Andrew's nod, Elena knelt to take off Patricia's shoes. Patricia lifted first one foot then the other as she felt her sister's hands on her ankles. Standing, Elena took Patricia's hands and led her into the middle of the room. Andrew sat down and loosened his tie while he watched.
Patricia let her sister unzip the back of the dress and slip the light fabric off her shoulders. She stood impassive as it was drawn down to her waist and pushed gently past the flare of her hips to pool about her feet. She allowed herself to be manoeuvred out of the puddle of fabric and turned to face Andrew. He smiled at her reassuringly and started on his own shirt buttons.
Elena hugged her sister's back, pressing her cheek against Patricia's shoulder blade and whispered. "I love you, sister." In Portuguese. Then she unclipped the girl's bra letting it fall away from Patricia's full firm bosom and drop to the floor. She was envious of those breasts because she knew Andrew's bias. She'd watched how many male eyes had flicked - repeatedly - in their direction this evening. On an impulse, she cupped them from behind, whispering in Portuguese. "See how excited he is now? Men! They love to see girls touch each other. Kiss me, Sister. Kiss me like you kiss him." And she nuzzled Patricia's ear.
Lost somewhere between the path of righteousness and the road to perdition, Patricia was grateful for any directions that meant she didn't have to decide. She turned as she was bidden and kissed Elena. This time Elena did use a bit of tongue. She also ground her tiny tits against Patricia's perfect bosom, succeeding in rubbing their nipples across each other. Both girls could feel their bodies reacting. Both pairs of nipples woke up. Elena's tiny breasts were now crowned with puffy areolae so swollen they looked like miniature breasts all by themselves. Patricia's smaller nips could have cut glass.
As he watched his two lovers - He liked that idea. Two lovers. - As he watched his two lovers snogging, Andrew threw off his shirt and unfastened his trousers. Christ! But he was hard. He didn't even dare to blink.
Elena kept kissing until Patricia was kissing her back just as hard, then she pulled free and dropped to her knees, smoothing her hands down Patricia's back and onto her buttocks. Looking up, past the twin hills of her sister's breasts, she caught her eye and winked at her then leant close and gently kissed the front of the embroidered thong.
Andrew's cock leapt. His trousers were around his ankles now and he struggled to kick them off. His boxer shorts were like colonel Gaddafi's tent as he watched Elena prolong the striptease by slowly rolling down first one stocking then the other. Patricia's body looked great with its newly acquired all over tan and those legs looked very smooth. He knew he was going to enjoy finding out just how smooth, very shortly. The scene was only improved by Elena's tight bottom - always a stimulating sight - her dark little anus on show as always. She'd allowed him to fuck it a few times: Elena didn't much like anal sex but it was an occasional treat for him and she did like to please her man.
Not tonight though. He tore his eyes and thoughts away from Elena's ass and watched as she drew the pretty thong down over her sister's thighs, revealing the newly trimmed pussy to his gaze. There was still a full triangle of pubes but they were trimmed short and - yes - they stopped just above her clit. From the sofa, he could just make out the gleam of moisture on pink bits. He stood up. Now it was time to be the man.
Swept, literally, off her feet, Patricia put her arms around his neck and her mouth opened against his. She did not let release his neck or his mouth as he deposited her on the bed and clambered on top of her. Her legs opened wide to make room for him as the weight of his body settled upon hers.
Elena stretched out on the bed, next to them, one knee cocked and her fingers idly teasing he own pussy. Amused to see Andrew struggling to find the hole with his bobbing cock, Elena reached between him and Patricia, gently gripped his erection and steered it in. No foreplay - She'd seen at close quarters just how wet her sister was, when she peeled off that thong. Patricia had been almost dripping. Elena remembered the first time she's had her pussy waxed - she'd been that wet for days and couldn't keep her hands off it. Her fingers fluttered over her clitoris as she watched Patricia's hips start to buck under Andrew's. The two people she loved most in all the world - How could it be wrong? Sharing someone she loved with someone she loved.
Andrew felt the sap rising. How close was Patricia? Very close, he hoped. It was getting difficult to hold on longer. He pounded into her, cutting loose with a long low moan as his balls tightened and he sprayed her insides. It tipped Patricia over the edge, her second ever orgasm coursed through her. She cried out loud and long, slumping back down on the pillows as the ecstatic sensations ebbed and Andrew, panting hard from his own exertions, slipped out of her and rolled over onto the bed, almost dislodging Elena.
Elena kissed him then sprawled across his glistening chest to reach Patricia and kiss her too. Patricia hugged her, or at least that bit of her she could reach without moving, and they both started to cry. Crying happy, this time. As he caught his breath, no easy thing with a girl draped across his chest, Andrew smiled to himself: Patricia couldn't possibly feel guilty about any of this now. 'Cept maybe the 'sin' aspect, he amended. They'd have to keep her away from priests for a while. Not a problem - just hide all her clothes and keep her on her back as much as possible. He was up for it if she was.
"Want to see the fastest way to get a guy hard again?" Elena asked, nuzzling Patricia's ear.
"Mmm." Patricia nodded.
Elena sprang to her feet with the agility of her profession, twirled through 540 degrees with one foot planted between Patricia and Andrew then, with her back to him, stood astride his torso and lowered her bottom towards his face. She rocked her hips a few times, grinding her crotch against his mouth, then leant horizontal and took his flaccid, sticky penis between her lips. Patricia watched, shocked as her sister licked and sucked life back into Andrew's cock. It wasn't lost on her that the slickness on it was from her. Her own sister was licking her secretions off it. She glanced across to Andrew.
He was preoccupied with the view. Elena was too much shorter than him for him to be able to lick her at the same time but he always enjoyed seeing her presented like this and there were always his hands. Right now his fingers were peeling open her pussy like the sticky sweet calyx of a ripe fig. Elena's bikini zone was, and as far as he was concerned, always had been completely hairless. He wouldn't have it any other way. The view of her lovely holes was slightly different tonight: Normally she did the splits for him and her pussy opened about halfway all by itself. He caught Patricia's eye and winked then pulled Elena's hips back against his face, smothering himself with her musky, moist pussy. His cock sprang from her mouth, hard as ever and ready for action. Elena, showing off in front of her sister, pushed her bottom up until her legs were straight again and did a handstand on Andrew's pelvis, arching her back until she looked like a giant question mark. It wasn't a stable position and she fell sideways, landing, against all odds, on her feet beside the bed.
Laughing, she sprung back onto Andrew, straddling him and, with deft fingers, guiding his cock into her. She sank onto it with a sigh and leaned back so that Patricia could see the slick, soft lips stretched around the base of Andrew's penis.
Patricia watched, unblinking, as Elena's hips gyrated, rocking backward and forward, her vagina gleaming like the polished pink seashells they used to get at the seaside as children. She wanted to reach out and touch it but didn't dare. Instead she clasped Andrew's hand as they both watched Elena.
Elena closed her eyes and ground her hips. The throbbing flesh buried in her pussy was the best pole for dancing around. She rode it hard, feeling her already close climax racing upon her. She could still taste Patricia's juices on her tongue. God! How sexy was that? She'd had a brief fling with another girl, another dancer, when she first came to London so it wasn't that unfamiliar but... tasting her own sister's pussy on her boyfriend's cock. Kinky. Sexy. She'd been so turned on watching them fuck... she started to orgasm, crashing down onto Andrew's cock harder and faster, screaming as wave upon wave of heat and lust washed through her body. As she came down, Elena felt Andrew, still rock hard inside her. He always lasted well, second time around. She relaxed, catching her breath and gently rocking on his penis. She finally opened her eyes. They twinkled.
Patricia's mouth hung open. She'd heard them at it through the walls but never realized just what all the noise was about. It had been amazing to see such complete abandon. Did she look - sound - anything like that when he fucked her? God! She hoped so.
As Patricia watched, Elena started to pick up the pace again, leaning back on one hand and flicking at her clitoris with the other. Faster and faster she posted on Andrew's hard-on, rubbing furiously at her clitoris, helping herself to a second orgasm. As Andrew's hips tensed, thrusting upward, his come drenching her cervix, Elena let herself go, wailing in ecstatic release before collapsing, all passion spent, on top of him.
Their laboured breathing was the only sound as Patricia let go of Andrew's hand and rolled closer to fling her arms around them both. It had been an incredible 24 hours.
They somehow made it across the hallway to Ryan's room in the fraternity without being seen. Laughing and smiling, they leaned against the closed door, locking it behind them before Ryan looked out the peep hole with a playful grin. "I feel like we just egged a professor's house or something," he said, glancing at Amanda before adding, "Just like we used to do."
She laughed softly, moving to stand near the bed as she watched him. Her eyes couldn't help but roam his body reflexively, shivering some from the chill of the air conditioning as she stood in the wet wife-beater tank top. Smiling, hearing his words and suddenly remembering all the good times they used to have, she said, "Yeah, I know what you mean. I feel like I'm about to get caught doing something wrong …" Amanda's voice trailed off some as she wondered again if he knew just how new all this was going to be for her.
Ryan turned, his gaze meeting hers before his eyes traveled up and down her body. He was amazed by what was suddenly happening. He was unsure of how this was going to end but the last thing he wanted to do was worry. He had plenty of experience when it came to girls, but nothing serious. It wasn't that he was uneasy about the situation … that part wasn't new. What was new were the feelings that accompanied this particular one.
Amanda couldn't help but smile at him shyly, her arms reflexively reaching up to cover her breasts through the wet shirt. She felt so naked in front of him just from the way that he was looking at her. A part of her still felt like that geeky girl that had a crush on him for all these years and now … now all she could do was lick her lips nervously, watching as he looked her over.
Ryan's eyes locked with hers for a moment, the expression on his face caring and sincere as he crossed over to where his dresser was and after a moment, pulled out a t-shirt and a pair of boxers, tossing them to her with a smile. "Want to change?"
Amanda reached out, catching them as her eyes looked to him. A smile appeared on the curve of her lips as she watched him turn his back for a moment and lifted the shirt to her nose, inhaling quickly. It smelled just like him and she made a mental note to make sure and not to return the shirt. "Thanks," she was able to reply in a soft voice.
Setting them on the bed, she could feel a flutter of nervous butterflies as for the first time, she exposed myself to him. Amanda had dreamed about this moment countless times before and it all seemed to be happening in slow motion. Lifting her arms slowly, taking the wet wife-beater with them, her full young breasts were suddenly exposed to his gaze, perfect for the taking. They were more than a handful but not really enough to get lost in, tipped with cinnamon colored hard nipples that seemed to beg for him to come taste one.
Ryan averted his gaze for a moment as he grabbed another pair of boxers and a tank before smoothly and effortlessly changing before her as well. 'Turn about is fair play,' he thought to himself as he glanced over at Amanda's young perfect body. The tank top fit tightly over his semi-broad shoulders and the boxers clung to his strong legs. He knew she was nervous … it was written all over the expression on her face.
Amanda couldn't help but bite her lip as she watched Ryan disrobe in front of her. Her blue eyes drank in the sight of him and she could tell that he had done this more than once. She couldn't control the shyness that kept creeping up on her as she pulled his t-shirt over her head, the hem falling just below her hips, covering up the rest of her as she wiggled out of her jeans, leaving my red thong on as she pulled his boxers up and over her hips.
Ryan walked slowly over to the bed, offering his hands to Amanda. "Hey listen, you … Look, I dunno … just trust me, okay?" His eyes were locked on her every movement, unsure of her body language as she shivered by the bed. "Nothing needs to happen," he said in a soothing voice. "I just want to be with you, okay?"
Amanda smiled gently, seeing that he could read right through her nervousness but at the same time, she wanted so badly for him to see just how much she wanted to be with him too. Slipping her hands into his, she said in a soft voice, "I want to be with you too, Ryan … however you want me." Her whole body trembled but this time, for a whole different reason that he might have thought.
He pulled her close, holding her hands as he kissed her gently on the lips. "I want you to be comfortable, Mannie … just enjoy the moment, okay?" His green eyes were piercing as he looked into her eyes.
Amanda smiled gently, her gaze locked with his as she leaned into the kiss, nibbling some on his lower lip. "I'm comfortable with you, Ryan … I want to be with you." She couldn't help but wonder if he knew just how badly she wanted to feel him against her. Her thoughts were quickly turning to the idea of how his hands would feel, touching her all over.
Ryan smiled and hugged her close before gently pushed her backwards onto the bed. He couldn't help but smile against her lips as they sunk down into its softness.
Amanda's poor stomach was doing flip flops as she felt the edge of the bed against the back of her knees and in a bold move, as they sunk downwards, she carried him with her back into a reclining position. Her lips sought his once again and even though she could tell that he was trying not to go too far too fast, she wanted him to more than anything. Their tongues darted out against the other's, prodding … licking … sucking. She couldn't help but purr, something she had never done with anyone else. She found the sound very sultry and erotic as she captured his tongue between her lips, sucking gently. Her fingers reached out for him to find his skin beneath his shirt, a part of her in awe that after all this time they were finally together.
Ryan nuzzled his nose against Amanda's, pulling back just enough to place a soft kiss on her chin as he whispered, "You're poking me." His gaze lowered some as he pushed his chest against hers, indicating the rock hard tips that were jutting out from behind the t-shirt that she adorned.
Amanda couldn't help but laugh and then on a sudden inspired thought, slowly thrust her hips up to grind against his for a moment as she whispered back in a husky voice, "You're poking me too."
Ryan bit his lower lip a bit as he ground back into her. "Hmmm," he said, "whose fault is that?" And then lowered his lips once more to capture hers.
A soft moan erupted from her lips against his as she felt just how hard he was in the flimsy pair of boxers he was wearing. Amanda found herself wondering, for the first time, just how he might feel inside of her as her tongue darted out into his mouth, teasing the corners of his lips. "It feels good, Ryan," she whispered, almost shocked as the words slipped out of her mouth.
As Ryan kissed her, his lips traveled to her ear, groaning as she ground up against him. He could feel every inch of her young body pressed against him through his boxers, the warmth of her sex growing in intensity as it rubbed up against him. His hands slipped down to her hips as if on their own volition as he whispered into her ear, "Mannie … can I go down on you?"
Amanda moaned helplessly, having never let a guy do that before but there was something so erotic about it … so forbidden and more than anything she wanted to feel his tongue on her, preparing her body for maybe more. Hopefully more. "Yes, Ryan," she stammered. "Please …" Her voice trailed off, unsure of where the last part came from but just saying it made her pussy lurch and she didn't understand it.
Ryan continued to kiss her as his hands slipped down her sides to capture the bottom of his t-shirt hanging down her slender legs. He could hear her soft whimper as her whole body tensed a bit as he began to push the shirt up. Her nipples hardened even more, showing just how badly she wanted this despite the way that her body trembled. As she lifted her arms, he pulled the shirt up and off her, tossing it to the side as for the first time he gazed upon Amanda's body. He glanced up at her with a soft smile before kissing each one of her nipples slowly, sucking them gently into his mouth.
Amanda gasped, a long low moan released from her lips as, for the first time, lips instead of fingers curled around a tight nipple. Her back arched to push her aching breast further into his mouth. "Ohhhhhh," she moaned as her fingers instinctively went to the back of Ryan's head, sliding into his soft hair.
He bit one of her nipples gently as his hands worked the other one, rolling it between his fingers, relishing her deep moans. As her head rolled back, blonde hair spilling down her back, his other hand slipped slowly down her body to push down the boxers that she was wearing.
Amanda could feel a tremor racing straight down her spine and into her cunt, shuddering as she felt his slowly peel away the boxers to leave me naked and exposed to his gaze. She could feel him kissing down her body and she couldn't help but gasp in wonder, her eyes widening as she watched his tongue trace the lines of her body, darting across and skipping past the part of her that was on fire. She was trembling uncontrollably, her eyes half open beneath long lashes as she squirmed beneath his mouth. She fell back completely on the bed, lost in the sensations he was creating in her. "Oh Ryan …" she moaned.
"Just relax, Amanda," he whispered as his tongue left her body momentarily, leaving her to squirm under his hands on her hips. And then in a sudden movement that elicited a cry of surprise from her lips, licked forcefully from the bottom of her sweet slit straight up to where her clit lay, sucking gently at her hooded nub.
Amanda cried out, jerking helplessly as she almost sat upright again. She had never felt anything like that before! She could feel her thighs clamp reflexively around his head as her eyes widened in surprise. "Oh god," she whispered through a low moan. She heard his soft laugh as his hands moved to gently push her thighs apart again before pushing his tongue against her slit and then licking quickly over the top of it causing her to jerk again as she fell back on the bed once more. She could feel her thighs relax some, widening as her hips pushed up reflexively to his mouth. Her head thrashed on the bed as her fingers tightened into the covers over it fiercely. "Ohhhhhh Ryan … wh-what are … you … doing to me?!" she cried out in wonder.
Ryan didn't say anything. Instead his hands traveled back up her body, twisting and squeezing her sensitive nipples as his tongue feasted on her essence. Now and then, he pressed his tongue into her tightness, amazed at just how perfect she tasted and felt to his exploring mouth. He loved hearing her like this, knowing finally that she felt the same way that he did and he loved the way that she reacted to his lips. Blowing gently on her slit, he sucked her clit eagerly back into his mouth once again.
Shuddering uncontrollably, Amanda could feel something building. Somehow she knew that it was coming … her first climax brought on by someone other than herself. Her fingers clenched tightly into the covers as her hips bucked up against his mouth. "Ohhh god … I'm gonna … ohhhh … please," she started to beg uncontrollably for something she didn't really understand.
Ryan sucked and licked at her, his tongue pressing into her tightness as he felt her body starting to shudder and squirm. As her juices started to flow around her lips, it drove him to increase his ministrations on her young body, wanting to convey through his tongue just how much she meant to him.
Amanda's head came up off the bed, blue eyes wide as she caught his eyes on her. His tongue was sending her straight over the edge as one of her hands flew to his head, holding him against her cunt as her legs suddenly stiffened. She could feel her whole body jerk as she cried out, exploding against his lips. "Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!"
Kissing and sucking at her spasmming slit, Ryan's tongue probed deeper still into her as her climax came to a shuddering halt.
Amanda's climax was more powerful than she could have ever imagined. She pushed at his head. She couldn't take it anymore! Crying out, she could feel the tears stinging her eyes at the intensity of it. "Stop! Oh god!" She was gasping for breath as his tongue darted out, licking a little more gently as she cried out. Her body was rocked with small spasms as a lone tear trickled down her flushed cheek as Ryan took her to a place where she had never gone before.
Amanda's eyes closed as she panted for breath and her hand slowly melted from his hair to fall limply on the bed. She was overcome with the intensity of it and a soft moan erupted from her parted lips. "Ryan …" she called out his name with more emotion than she had ever shown to anyone, even him.
Nuzzling her stomach with his lips, Ryan smiled up at her before he kissed back up her body to snuggle against her side. Pulling her onto her side, he wrapped his arms around her as he gently kissed her, letting her taste herself on his lips.
Amanda whimpered softly as she felt his lips travel up her body and over her quivering flesh. As he pulled her into his arms, her whole body felt lethargic even as her arms wrapped around him. She could smell herself on his breath and her eyes opened to look into his. She couldn't help but wonder what he thought of it … how it tasted. She was rewarded with an answer as his lips pressed to hers and she could taste the erotic blend of both his tongue and her juices. A quivering smile appeared on her lips to find it to taste something like an exotic honey.
Nuzzling Amanda's nose with his, Ryan smiled broadly. "Does that mean it felt good?" he whispered.
Amanda gasped for breath, her eyes widening as they looked into his. And then a suddenly shy smile appeared as she looked down at his lips. A soft giggle erupted as she managed to whisper, "I … I've never felt anything that good."
Doug stared at the sweet little thing that had just been dropped off at his house... her name was Mary and although the guy had said she was 22, she looked more like 16 with her big innocent eyes. Her body was definitely that of someone older than the child he saw in her eyes... and that thought caused his eyes to sweep over her scantily clad body, taking in her tightly cupped breasts and firm thighs and ass. His cock stirred.
"Hello," he said tentatively.
"Hello," she said back, looking up at him with complete naivete... he wondered how on earth he was going to do this with such an innocent....
It had seemed so simple and easy when he'd first found the website. Consenting, adult female who to be delivered to your house for two weeks, any kind of woman that you wanted... very highly priced of course, but well worth it to him. It wasn't that Doug had trouble getting dates, he happened to be a very attractive 31 year old... but he'd always had a fantasy of taking a complete innocent and corrupting her. Taking her body in every way and introducing her to the pleasures of sex.
Mary, standing before him, was indeed an innocent, guaranteed to be virginal in every way. He had no idea how they'd found such a girl, especially one so beautiful and perfect as she was... but he also wasn't sure if he cared.
"Well come in," he said, stepping back to let her pass. Her arm brushed against his groin as she squeezed past him, and his cock jumped.
While his mind might have hesitations now that he had a complete innocent in front of him, his cock was obviously absolutely sure what it wanted.
Once inside, Doug brought her up to his bedroom, having her stand in the middle of the room. Mary just stood calmly, waiting for his next move.
"What did they tell you?" he finally asked.
"I'm to stay with you for the next two weeks," Mary said, even her voice was high and childish, "You'll take care of me, and teach me things that will help me on my next assignment." She smiled, tilting her head to the side as she looked at him. Despite her lack of knowledge, she seemed interested in him.
Staring at her, his body was quickly convincing his mind to let go of its guilt, "Take off your shirt."
Mary looked at him, blushing a little as she began unbuttoning her shirt. One by one the buttons opened, exposing a little more of her pale skin... her bra was cotton and white, and he could feel his dick pressing against the front of his pants. Swallowing hard he watched as she slipped it off...
Now she wasn't meeting his eyes.
"Are you shy?" he asked.
"I've never been naked in front of a man before," she whispered, the blush in her cheeks darkening. Doug almost groaned at her admission, and couldn't help but put his hand on top of his aching crotch, rubbing himself through his pants. He didn't want to scare her though... best to take this nice and slow. Make sure that she enjoyed it...
Maybe he should have her give him head first. Get her accustomed to him before she completely exposed herself.
"Would you like to see me?" he asked.
"Yes please," Mary said, her eyes returning to his face, alight with curiosity.
Smiling at her slightly eager expression, Doug stripped off his shirt and pants, his dick bobbing in front of him with excitement. Mary looked both excited and slightly fearful as he stood there before her, his hand wrapped around his dick. She watched as he pumped his hand slowly, revealing the purplish head and long shaft....
"Come here," he said, his voice hoarse with excitement, "Kneel down in front of me."
The 22 year old sank to her knees in front of him, although a little too far away. Doug stepped forward and she leaned back a little, away from his pointing dick... she was breathing heavily, although probably from fearful excitement.
"Touch it," he said, "Rub the head." He held his cock steady as she reached up hesitantly, her eyes big and round as her fingers gently caressed the the smooth, soft skin of his cock head. Doug almost groaned at her sweetly innocent touch, but he gritted his teeth, not wanting to scare her away now that she was touching him, "Put your hand on me, where my hand is."
Slowly, gently, slim feminine fingers wrapped around his dick, and he let go, groaning, "Pump it, move your hand up and down...."
His hips thrust forward as she obeyed, her eyes glued to his member.
"Do you know what you're holding?" he asked.
"It's your penis," she replied softly.
Doug shook his head, "It's my cock... or my dick. You're fisting my cock."
"Cock." Mary repeated softly, and he moaned at the sound of her sweet childish voice repeating his word, thrusting his hips forward as she squeezed his dick.
"Open your mouth," he told her, "I want you to suck it."
Mary's eyes got very big, but she opened her lips obediently, although he could see the fear in her eyes. Carefully Doug pressed his dick between those soft lips, allowing her to hold onto his dick with her hand, leaving her some control over the situation. She relaxed when she realized that he wasn't going to just try and shove the whole length down her throat. Instead, Doug let her begin to explore him with her mouth... it wasn't as satisfying as being with a woman who knew what she was doing, but there was something incredibly erotic about his dick being explored by this complete virgin's lips.
Her tongue pressed against his pee-hole, tasting him... and he moaned, his hands automatically going to her head and trying to push her mouth further down onto him. Mary panicked a little, and he could feel her gagging as his dick pressed against the back of her throat... immediately he pulled back, but kept his hands on her head, stroking her hair reassuringly.
She pulled back so that just the head of his dick was in her mouth, obviously catching her breath... she didn't seem to realize how much more of a tease and a turn on that was for him. Groaning, he let his hands fall down to her shoulders, caressing her smooth skin. Mary trembled as his fingers trailed lower, caressing her bra-covered mounds. As she kept the head of his dick in her mouth, Doug groaned and squeezed her breasts, pulling on them a little.
"More," he told her, "Suck on it, try to swallow it..."
Although she had very little technique, Mary was trying harder, she began to slide her mouth up and down his shaft as he squeezed her breasts... he could feel her nipples growing hard through the fabric of her bra. She managed to fit more and more of his cock into her mouth, her slim hand squeezing the base of it to keep her from trying to swallow too much.
Doug slid his hands into her bra, and felt her shudder... he realized that his hands were probably the first other than her own to be touching her bare breasts, and he squeezed them hard as cum began to gush into her mouth. Mary gasped and choked, fluid filling her cheeks as she swallowed desperately... some of it leaked from between her lips, a few hot splashes on her breasts. The bitter taste filled her mouth as his dick started to soften between her lips, and Doug sighed happily, his grip on her breasts lessening.
He pulled himself from her lips, smiling at her gasping face, the trickles of cum on her chin and the drops on her breasts. So sweet... so innocent...
"Very good," he told her, and she smiled up at him, her face bright at the praise. Carefully he wiped off the trickles and drops off cum, and brought his fingers to her lips. She automatically opened them and he pushed his fingers in, her eyes wide as her tongue licked the cum from them.
"Stand up." he said.
Mary stood before him and he reached behind her to undo her bra, his arms hugging her slim body, soft breasts pressed against him. She trembled as the flimsy piece of cotton fell from her, and Doug pressed against her as his hands ran up and down her smooth back, one of them coming around to the front to grasp her breast. He groaned at the touch of her soft flesh, her firm breast in his hand with her hard little nipple pressing against the palm.
Burying his face in her hair, his lips found her neck and he kissed it, sucking her flesh between his teeth and biting down gently. He was going to mark her as his... a dark bruise on her neck to show that he'd taken her.
Trembling in his arms, Mary moaned, her grip tightening around his neck as he sucked on her flesh, his thumb running over her hard nipple. The most incredible sensations were sweeping through her and she had no idea how to react to them... she was both afraid and incredibly excited by the older man who was touching her. Her pussy felt moist and juicy against the thin cotton panties she was wearing... and now Doug's hand was caressing down her back and unbuttoning her skirt.
It fell to the floor, released from her hips, and now she was just standing in her panties, a man's naked body pressed against hers, and she could feel his hardening dick against her thigh. Doug began to press his hips into hers and pull away, almost as though he was dry humping her. Finally he released her neck from his mouth, leaving a dark purple bruise on her pale skin.
Stepping back, he looked at her... hickey on her neck, hard pink nipples... smooth pale curves. Mary blushed at his intense gaze on her panty-clad pussy. Reaching out his hand, Doug tooks hers in his and led her to the bed, laying her down in the very center of it.
Crouching over her, he lightly kissed her lips, and then began moving his kisses down her body. Her collarbone... her shoulders... his hands caressed her breasts as he began to nip and suck on the mounds. Slowly he worked his tongue inwards, finding her nipples... Mary let out a gutteral cry as his mouth engulfed the sensitive nub, his fingers pinching its partner, sending electricity to her pussy.
As he sucked on her nipple, toying with the other, his free hand traveled down her stomach and slid into her panties, curving over her mound which had been shaved smooth. By now his dick was rock hard, but he was enjoying slowly seducing her... although Mary was willing, she was also hesitant. When Doug entered her body, he wanted her to be begging for it.
One finger slipped between her wet folds and she gasped, moaning and writhing a little beneath him. She was incredibly wet already, but not yet at the point where her body had overcome her virgin's hesitancy. Doug moved his mouth to her other nipple as he slid one finger inside her exquisite tightness, feeling the heat of her desire and the way she gripped him...
Mary groaned, almost sobbing as his mouth moved down her stomach, his finger slipped out of her as he pulled her panties from her. She blushed again, as he spread her thighs wide to see her pretty pink pussy, her mound completely shaved, leaving her bare and exposed. Doug leaned over and kissed her inner thighs, making her body jerk as he began to slide his tongue up her creamy legs, licking around the outside of her pussy.
Her entire body spasmed when he ran his tongue up the center of her being, flicking over her hole and her clit with one long swipe. Gripping the sheets, Mary's head thrashed back and forth as Doug began eating her out, his mouth eagerly sucking down her juices as he began to push his tongue into her pussy hole. It was the most amazing thing she'd ever felt, heating up her insides with a burning fire that longed for more fuel.
She shrieked as his finger slid back inside her, her hips thrusting upwards with the intensity of the sensation, her sheathe tightening around the invasion. Doug found the little ridge inside of her and pressed it gently, making body quiver as he licked around his finger, tasting her, heating her up.
Sliding a second finger inside her, Doug smiled as he heard her groan... she was opening up easily enough but he knew that it felt both pleasurable and almost painful... so he kept soothing the cramping with his tongue on her clit. Mary thrashed on the bed, her body an incredibly cacophony of sensation, the fire inside her burning up to a fever pitch... she felt sure she was going to explode.
And explode she did, as Doug sucked her swollen clit into his mouth and pressed on her g-spot at the exact same time.... she shrieked as her orgasm rushed through her body, sending her to heights of almost unbearable ecstacy. Somewhere, in the midst of her pleasure, she felt something big and painful pushing its way into her body, and she shrieked again as Doug's cock broke through her virgin barrier.
The pleasure continued, he rubbed her clit as he sank his dick into her rippling tightness, but now it was mingled with a kind of slow aching pain that made her twist beneath his body. Doug felt her thighs tightening around him as he pushed deeper and deeper into her virgin chute, opening up her tightness and making it his own. He grunted and groaned as he forced inch by tight inch into her body, feeling her spasm around him...
Mary whimpered, her body arching as Doug's dick filled her, it felt obscenely huge inside her tight sheathe, painful and yet felt soooo good. When his groin finally pressed against hers, they both gasped, and Doug ground his hips against her, stirring her insides and rubbing against her swollen clit with his body. She shuddered as his cock jumped inside her... and then it began to recede, giving her a sense of relief....
Until he shoved in again and she gasped, her back arching. Doug began moving back and forth inside of her, firmly but slowly, trying to hold onto his own desires to give her more time to adjust. It was definitely better that he'd had her give him head beforehand, she was so tight and exquisite beneath him that he was already on the brink of losing control.
Moaning, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, just trying to hold on as he used her body, fucking her deflowered pussy. Doug's fingers dug into her back as he started thrusting harder, taking the time between each stroke to rub against her pussy, making her tighten around him as he pressed against her clit.
She shuddered with reaction as his strokes became shorter, harder, keeping more of his dick stuffed inside of her and his body bumping her clit every time. The fire that had dwindled came roaring up again, despite the discomfort of having her pussy stretched so, and as his teeth bit into the side of her neck that was unmarked, she started to orgasm again, her nails digging in as she creamed herself all over his cock.
Doug felt her tighten around him and began to spasm, her pussy trying to milk him with its muscles as she came... it felt so fantastic that he just held himself inside of her. He was already so close to cumming that he just let her pussy massage his dick until it swelled up inside of her and he started to cum, filling her formerly virgin pussy with his juices.
By the time he collapsed on top of her, Mary had already stopped cumming and was now laying exhausted underneath him, her pussy feeling sore and bruised.
Lifting up his head, Doug kissed her lips again, sliding his tongue into her mouth and kissing her deeply. She kissed him back in a tired, inexperienced but eager kind of way, her arms and pussy tightening around him again. Something stirred inside of him, but it wasn't ready quite yet.
Instead he just pulled gently out of her and curled up with her in his arms. They fell asleep like that on the bed...
"Wish me luck, baby." Jared cradled his guitar like a woman he was unwilling to let go. Kate mused on the thought that so many guitarists make the same face while they play their guitar as they do, when they bed a woman. Jared ran his fingers through his long blonde hair, pulling it back from his face. In his sun-kissed skin, his sharply angled features, his taunt muscles, she saw such a wildness, something more alive, more powerful than human, something greater than man. Kate thought, perhaps it is this energy, this lust, that makes musicians so desirable to so many. Noting her stare, Jared smiled, reached for Kate, and pulled her close, kissing the sensitive valley of her neck where it met her shoulder, biting so gently she was hardly sure that she could feel teeth. “Good luck, brat,” she laughed and stepped away. Jared smiled impishly and stepped to the stage.
Kate so loved him in these moments. Jared was her best friend, an older brother of sorts, who took her out, taught her to paint, and taught her how to become a beautiful, independent woman. To him, she was his little baby, his unspoiled angel. To her, he was her dear friend, and the most handsome, charming, attractive man in the world. His music stirred her soul and she felt it course through her veins like wildfire. Jared grappled with his instrument, demanding impossible feats of it, coaxing heaven from it, muscles tense, sweat beading upon his brow, eyes lost in a god’s creative ecstasy as his instrument gave new melodies form and life.
Kate watched in awe as he approached his work like a god, one with it, charming from his guitar the sweet notes that entranced everyone in one all-encompassing rhythm, making love to it as it made love to him in a wild tantric dance. She leaned back against the curtains and watched intently, her eyes fixated on Jared for the entire show. The lights burned hot against his flesh and his animal heat burned about him, as if he were the forge of his music, the fire from whence his song came.
After his performance, Jared stepped from the stage, trembling slightly and drenched in sweat. He laughed in exhilaration and joy, wrapping his arms around Kate. His heat seared their bodies; she found herself sealed against him, surrounded and drenched, and suddenly hot. There was something wonderfully erotic about his embrace. She had been fantasizing about his body, his face, his movements, the way he held his instrument and the way he might have held her, the way he might have moved her and touched her, touched her in ways he dared not, and in ways she secretly desired that he might, someday. Pressed against his body, it was as if she suddenly had the sense of touch to add to her fantasy, as if he had been making love to her and she was now surrounded in his heat. She pressed her body against him and closed her eyes.
Suddenly, she realized that she was clutching her best friend for an inappropriately long period of time. Kate shyly withdrew from his embrace. Collecting herself, she stammered, "You…Congratulations. You were beautiful, up there." The word "beautiful" escaped her lips before she had a chance to contain it. She blushed crimson red and hoped he had not heard, that somehow, through some divine intervention, had not noticed. Hoping against hope, above all things, she hoped to vanish, that the ground beneath would split and swallow her. Silence echoes with a thundering omnipresence. She opened her eyes to meet his; he was staring at her, curious, but still silent. The heat burned in her cheeks, licking like flame. Accepting the ground would not take pity upon her and swallow her whole, she forced her feet, which seemed heavy as lead, to move. “I…um…I have to go.” Kate turned and walked toward the door.
“Kate!” Jared's voice pierced her like an arrow. In it, she could hear nothing but love and concern, but it might as well have been a strict order. She froze in her tracks, a step from the door, a step from safety and freedom, her mind crying, “Please, don’t make me say it, and please do.” It felt like a dream, she could not will her legs to move. Jared pulled his guitar strap from his body, placed the instrument upon his chair, and approached her, “Are you…all right, baby doll? Is there something you want, or need, to tell me?” She stared into his eyes, a thousand wishes dancing upon her lips, and bit her tongue. Aching and overwhelmed, she lowered her head to let her bangs fall in front of her face, to shield her from his penetrating, analyzing gaze. Jared reached out to her and pulled her close, clutching her tightly. Finding her face buried in his chest, she raised her head to lean it upon his shoulder, and then he caught her lips. She parted her lips in a slight cry and he silenced her as his tongue snaked around her own, toying and stroking, sliding and pressing. A low, deep moan escaped the silence of his throat as he pulled her closer toward him, as if to dive deeper into her love. For Kate, the world was nonexistent, and her whole body melted and seemed to move around his expert tongue. She ran her fingers up his spine and dreamt of how his naked body would feel, pressed against hers. Her clit swelled against the peach halves of her lips and desire consumed her. As her arousal swelled within her, she realized there was a crushing presence against her clitoris, against her body, that was not a fantasy at all. She leaned into his kiss and pressed her hips against him, leaning into his hardening cock. Her right hand slid down his back, around his ass, and over his hipbone, inching ever closer to the prize she was anxious to taste.
Jared's body suddenly tensed and he raised his hands to Kate's shoulders. Pushing her very gently, he broke their embrace. Gazing into his eyes, she saw arousal and anxiety wrestling with one another for control. He broke their stare and returned to his instrument. Pausing to pick up his coat, he said, "I'll...I'll see you back at the house." As he walked past her on his way to the door, he stopped beside her, leaned over, and gently kissed her on the forehead. "I love you, my Kitty Kate."
Kate arrived at his house first, but that was not a surprise. Jared had many friends to greet in the audience. She sat down at the kitchen table and her eyes found the roses Jared had given to her. One of them was not yet in bloom, but was near-bursting with its efforts. Soon, it would be an incomparable bloom, maybe even by morning. She smiled and rose from her seat, retiring to his bedroom, where she had left a book she was reading a few days before. Kate approached the chair where it lay, centered atop her neatly folded robes, and, taking both items, placed them beside Jared’s bed. Daringly, she removed her clothes and crept between the sheets of his bed to read her book, assuring herself that she would quickly rise and dress in her robes, should she hear the front door. With the sheets that he slept within surrounding her, she picked up her book and continued to read.
Her desire was a powerful warmth and she soon grew hot between the sheets. His presence, his smell, surrounded her and embraced her body. Kate pushed the sheets lower and lower until they covered only her calves. The clock continued to tick as the hours passed.
When Jared finally returned home, he found the house unexpectedly quiet. It was unusual for Kate not to wait for him, for her not to immediately appear from some corner of the house like a kitten so happy to see a loved one return. He quietly padded through the house, through the kitchen, where he noted that one chair had been pushed back from the table. He sighed in relief; at least she was here. Undoubtedly, she was asleep. He returned to the foyer and put away his coat and guitar. Now, to the task at hand, to find Kate and to carry her to bed from wherever she may have fallen asleep.
The last of all the rooms that Jared would think to look for Kate would be his own bedroom, and yet, he found himself standing in his doorway, experiencing a sight that would remain with him forever; the vision of her young, firm, nude body asleep in his bed. Surprise and awe crept over him, despite the growing demands of his impatient erection. She lay on her back, holding her book tightly in one hand, her small fingers marking the page, one breast parting the pages. Her nipples were a deep pink, and erect with the chill of the night air. Her red lips were gently pouted in her peaceful sleep, and her heavy eyelashes fluttered gently as she dreamed. Her long and lustrous hair cascaded to her waist, stopping just as the height of her small and perfect innocence, trimmed and shaped with great care and attention, still a relatively new jewel on the body of such a young and beautiful girl.
Jared abandoned his thoughts and the ambitions of his body, leaned back from the door, and decided upon a hot shower. The steamy water eased his sore muscles, but did little to calm his agitation. He could not erase the image of her body from his mind, and still, she lay asleep, beautiful, nude, and waiting, in his bed. The water kissed and licked down his neck, down his chest, over his body like her small, smart mouth. He could smell her perfume on his skin, and could still imagine her so vividly, tight in his arms, pressed against his body. His erection sought her again but bobbed helplessly in the empty air. Jared ran his hands over the rippled muscles of his torso, remembering the way her hands felt against his body. He imagined her clutching him as he thrusted every inch of his aching cock into her. He would hold her small white thighs and press her against the tile as he pressed deeper and deeper into the tight hot abyss of her secrets. "Oh…Kate…show me what you want…" he moaned to himself, eyes tightly shut, wishing he could reach his fingers into her long and beautiful hair.
He teased one fingertip up and down the length of his shaft, cupping his balls in the other, imagining her small hands, her devilishly quick tongue, which, at her command, would become achingly slow, running the length of his shaft. He closed his hand around the tip, imagining her pretty pout opening to swallow the full length of his cock. Through the tight grip of his fingers, he pushed and pulled his cock, imagining how she might taste him, how she might devour the full length of him in her small, pretty little mouth. "Mmm…Kate…ohhh…" He pulled his cock from the lips of his fantasy, and spent himself over her breasts and stomach. With knees trembling, he turned off the water and pushed apart the glass shower doors.
Kate stood in the doorway, nude, pale, and tousled from sleep. Jared reached for a towel, the blush of heat burning through his tanned skin, and he stepped forward to her, as if awaiting judgment. He had crossed the line, she had heard him, had borne witness to his sin. She said nothing, but slowly turned and returned to the bedroom.
Juggling explanations within his mind, he slowly followed. Clearly, this was not something to simply let pass. The boundaries that formed their relationship had been crossed, and needed to be rewritten, or perhaps, if possible, returned to their former state.
When Jared entered his bedroom, he found her exactly as she had been before, nude, lying on her back, but, this time, without the book. Following her lead, he removed the towel from his waist and crawled into bed beside her. He was careful not to touch her body, but lied on his back and stared at the ceiling.
To his dismay, his body was not satisfied, and he could feel renewed strength returning to his cock. Here, in this bed, there was no place to hide, and he could not disguise his feelings, whether it was to her benefit or not. Suddenly, she sat up, and turned to face him, as if to speak, but she said nothing. Instead, she simply gazed at him, studying his body.
To Kate, Jared’s body was the embodiment of desire. His insatiable lust was a miraculous display of a body so very different from her own, a body that she had longed to see for years. She ran her fingers over his muscles, over his curves, kissed his chest, his stomach, and let her tongue trace the length of his cock, which trembled with her touch. She kissed his balls, toying with them, tasting them, but it was the staff which beckoned her. It was the heart of his energy, the source of his need, and it tantalized her. Cradling it, she massaged the head with her tongue, then traced symbols from some forgotten language down its length. Closing her lips upon the head, she pressed his cock, slowly, sucking gently, into the depths of her throat. Kate pulled back, slowly withdrawing, until she could feel the soft head against the roof of her mouth, and pushed down again, until her lips pressed against his body. She was enthralled; she could taste his salt, his sting, his musky, wild passion deep within her. She could smell his scent, his cologne, his lust. She watched him shiver and buck beneath her like a wild animal. She could feel him, deep within her, more a part of her than ever before. And she could hear him, gasping her name, saying all the beautiful things she had read men would say.
Suddenly, he called, “Kate, wait…stop.” She retreated instantly, afraid that she had hurt him, ashamed that her performance had been unsatisfactory. He sat up slowly and reached for her. In his eyes was something she had never seen before, something like love, but strong, deeper, a new, stronger, more powerful form of it. “Kate, you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen, and I love you. I will always love you, as your friend and your lover, for the rest of my life. I have wanted you since the day we met, but I would never have taken this step. Is this truly-” Kate leaned forward and kissed him, parting his lips with her tongue as he had done to her, earlier that evening.
Jared pulled her close to him, so that she faced him while straddling his lap. Holding her, he suspended her over his engorged heat in a tight embrace. Kate felt the soft head of his staff glide between her parted lips, wet with welcoming desire. As if guided, his cock pressed against her resilient sex, teased and begged between her lips, pressed and pawed against her. It licked the dripping paints of her body and rubbed them against her lips. Jared was feeding off her kisses, frenzied in passion. He sucked at her breath as if trying to consume her. Kate grasped his hands and, in doing so, he lost his support of her in the slip of sweat and a wave of lust. She sank upon the full length of his staff. Her wetness welcomed it, and her whole body seemed to crowd, to tighten, to wish to be close to it. He cried out in a moan against her lips. Thrilled in their ecstasy, Kate rocked her hips against him, and soon, he was matching her rhythm. Higher and higher she seemed to rise, until she could no longer contain the cries of pleasure and she broke from Jared’s kiss to sigh and cry.
Jared smiled, laughed, and, grabbing Kate’s hips, promptly raised her from his shaft, and spun her over so that she kneeled on all fours before him. “Kate, I must tell you, you have the most perfect ass.” Like this, he entered her from behind, and with every thrust, she felt a tremor of ecstasy as rocking and abrasive as a cat's tongue. The pleasure was too much to bear, and she cried and screamed against the pillow, her carnal tongue devoid of words, reduced to the bestial cries of lust that resonate through the night.
Her pleasure was an orgasm that peaked with every thrust. White lights exploded in her mind, and the world seemed to disappear, all but for the thrusting impalement of Jared’s lust. With each peak of pleasure her arousal seemed to increase, until all that was, was a single, hot, burning orgasm that utterly consumed her. She lost complete control and came so strongly that she could no longer feel her own body, only the wave of this climax, the rush of his heat. Jared and Kate came together, and collapsed to the bed beneath them, still embracing.
They would make love twice more that night before she confessed she loved him, too.