The rain had finished pattering against the window and turned to rustlings and tappings of sleet as I finished answering Lilian’s latest question about the document. A fire was burning in her fireplace against the winter that had finally hit, and despite a chill the room felt stuffy and overheated. I wiped my brow and shook my head against sudden fuzziness, and then looked up to see her steel-gray eyes watching me. She frowned slightly. “Well?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“I asked you, have we sufficiently addressed their claim?”
I looked again at the letter and then at the paragraph of her letter against the translation. “Yes. It’s simply boilerplate. It’s a fancy way of saying no other claims are raised by this issue.”
She nodded, “I see.” She looked up, “Let me get us some sandwiches. This is your last stop before the weekend?”
After a second of dizziness, I said, “Yes, and not a moment too soon.” She was one of my more recent clients; she had nothing too onerous and only relied on me for second opinions and revisions of documents in three different languages. It had been a long week finishing up end-of-month business and I was due for my annual vacation, but I was suddenly seized with a fit of lassitude that left me happily seated in the cozy chair before the fire and bereft of any desire to leave. The cold outside, now not only wet but freezing, and the gloomy gray of the sky sapped me of mental strength. I stared into the fire, and my mind seemed to trip gaily amid the flames as I danced from log to log.
Suddenly my mind snapped back to the room as Lilian shook my shoulder. “Come have a sandwich and some coffee. I’d say you need a thick cup of joe.”
I stood and watched her walk toward the dining room before me, and as her nicely filled skirt swayed before me under the blonde hair reaching halfway down her back, I wondered again why she was unmarried and seemed to be unoccupied by any gentlemen callers. As I suddenly started shivering uncontrollably, I thought how I had been attracted to her since I first met her, though given our business ties I had never considered acting on it. She seemed a thoroughly self-sufficient woman, impeccably dressed, brilliant in everything that counted except personality, where she was matter-of-fact and reserved, and coldly attractive.
I then wondered why her hair was down, as she had had it up earlier. Not a woman to let her hair down, I thought, so it must be the weekend. Long hair like a horse’s tail, or the horse hairs in a cello bow, but lying along the length of the cello like strings, and her neck is finely shaped like a cello bridge; at least her ears don’t stick out like tuning pegs, and as she stood staring at me and asked, “What in the world do you mean by all that?,” I said, “What?” and then vaguely remembered falling.
After a frustrating series of horrid vivid dreams blurring into fuzzy interludes that left me feeling unaccountably embarrassed, I woke bundled up tightly in a mass of blankets in a soft, wide bed. Lilian looked up in her chair by the window, put down her book, and crossed to my side. She felt my forehead and said, “You didn’t get your flu shot this year, did you?”
I started to shake my head but decided staying still was more enjoyable. “What time is it?”
“You were delirious all of yesterday, and the evening before that.”
I sighed. “Some vacation.”
She smiled, “You get to spend it with me. Surely my company’s not that tedious?”
I smiled wanly, “It’s not the company I’m keeping that’s a waste of time.”
“I disagree. I’ve never known you to be so interesting and charming as when you’re out of your mind with delirium.”
I smiled again and fell asleep almost immediately. I awoke a few hours later and had some soup, then slept until the next morning.
I awoke with the most obtrusive case of morning wood I had had in years. I shook my head slightly, remembering the last time I had the flu, which had acted almost like an aphrodisiac, keeping me fully erect once I had started recuperating after the first day despite masturbating five times a day for a week. Unfortunately, I was in her house and her bed and her presence, so I was stuck with the stick for a long, dry future.
She rose again from the chair and said, “Good morning. You look better. Let me get you some breakfast.”
I nodded and looked down to see with shock that my erection was quite prominent under the blankets. I started shifting a bit and she smiled and said, “Don’t worry about it. It’s perfectly natural.”
I blinked and said quietly, “It happens when I get the flu.”
She nodded, “Some men are like that. I’ll take it as a compliment.” I blushed and she added at the door, “It’s almost wholesome after what you proposed to do with me.” She smiled at the furious blush and look on my face and walked out.
She returned five minutes later with a tray with some yogurt, fruit, chicken soup, and water. I gulped down the water and she smiled and poured me some more from a pitcher on the bedside table, then sat and watched me as I ate.
I looked up at her occasionally as I ate and wondered furiously what my unhinged trap had spouted in my fever. When I finished, she took the tray away quietly and returned. She took my temperature and said, “Much better. How do you feel?”
“Physically, much better.”
She smiled slightly and looked into my eyes. “Mentally?”
After several seconds I asked, “What did I say?”
“Many things, not all about the rain in Spain and the geography of where it falls.”
“Oh?”
“But that was a large part of it.”
She laughed at my expression and I asked, “Really?”
“That and my geography.”
I shut my eyes. “God, I’m sorry.” When I opened them again she was smiling slightly as she looked at me, head tilted.
“If you’ll pardon me asking, you don’t have much sex, do you?”
After a long pause in which I weighed her expression and tone of voice, which were completely matter of fact, I answered as matter-of-factly, “No, I haven’t for more than a year.”
She nodded, “That’s not healthy, you know. We all need a regular outlet.”
I sighed, “Too busy.”
“Aren’t we all?”
After a long minute in which she watched me even more matter-of-factly, she said, “I like you well enough. I haven’t had a regular partner in several months, and I know you like me. So…”
I simply nodded, and she smiled and said, “Now, isn’t that civilized? It’s so much better than you trying to slide your hand up my thigh.”
I blushed, “Oh my God, I didn’t…”
“No, you didn’t. You just talked about it, which was…well, not worse, but ever so much more pathetic.” She sat on the edge of the bed and said, “So, my friend…shall I?”
I nodded, taken aback by her prosaic, almost affectless manner, which had finally become slightly warm, and she smiled at me as she reached her hand under the blanket and slid it toward me. “I will admit that your praise for my breasts quite turned my head. It wasn’t nearly as poetic as you mistaking me for a cello, but I’m afraid to show them to you now. I’m sure you’ll be disappointed after such a build-up.”
“What did I say?” I asked in trepidation.
“I shan’t remind you,” she said primly. “But if you don’t erupt the moment you see them, I shall be quite disappointed in you,” she smiled.
By this time her fingertips had touched my shaft, and she smiled, “You certainly didn’t lie about how hard I make you. Do you want it fast or slow?”
“Slow, very slow.”
She smiled. “I like you too.”
We laughed and she caressed me lightly as she looked down at me. “I had no idea you were so taken with me. You hide it well.”
“I didn’t know you like me at all.”
She shrugged. “I didn’t before.” She explored me slowly, her fingers running lightly around and over my shaft. “Do you do this to yourself often?”
“On occasion.”
She nodded. “What do you think about?”
“Past lovers. Women I’ve just seen. In the flesh or in a picture.”
She nodded again. “Me?”
“No, I avoided that because of…”
“Our business.” She seemed satisfied and said, “When did you start?”
“High school. You?”
“College. A young man who liked me asked me to, so I did. He watched with this fascinated look on my face as I did it, and he came most vigorously from watching.”
“You hadn’t before?”
“Oh, of course not. So I then explored him and learned how men work, and since then I’ve taken a man when we both needed it.”
She reached over with her other hand and lifted the blankets off me. “I always like to see a man come the first time. Sometimes they look silly, and other times they don’t look silly at all.”
“And how do I look?”
“You look like you shall be very silly indeed.”
“I suppose one of us has to.”
She laughed, “Yes.” She reached her fingers around my shaft and asked, “Like this?”
As she stroked lightly, I said, “Yes, just like that.”
“Is it good?”
“Yes, oh yes.”
She smiled, “Tell me about the first time you came.”
“One of my teachers was…a beautiful younger woman. Just out of teaching school. One day I was late to class and she was the hall monitor. I turned the corner and she was standing there with…well, her nipples were standing out half an inch even under her bra and a shirt and a sweater. And I got so hard seeing them, and as she talked to me they shrank and disappeared in less than a minute. It was like she had been dreaming of a real man and then, poor thing, had to deal with me. I was…not humiliated, but it really put me in my place. And that night when I went to bed, I remembered her beautiful nipples and imagined I was the sort of grown man who could make women react like that, and I got really hard. And…I guess my underwear was all bunched up because I reached down to adjust it and ending up holding my shaft…like you’re doing, and I came in about thirty seconds.”
“And how often did you play with yourself after that?”
“Four more times that night, and then three times a day at least every day after that for years.”
“Is this good? Do you need, oh, lube or anything?”
“This is wonderful,” I said happily.
After a moment, I asked, “How often…?”
“Do I choose a man? Oh, whenever I need companionship. I usually get propositioned every time I go on a business trip by all the men, and sometimes I choose one, open the door and let him in, as it were. We’ll meet a few times and then….oh, he’ll find someone new or…go back to his wife.”
“Oh.”
“Yes. I had that happen twice. I don’t like liars. At all. Those men…well, they don’t get to cheat with me again.”
“But otherwise?”
“Otherwise it’s fun. I have a pleasant time and connect with a man and feel nice. It’s a good break.”
She spoke lightly and her eyes danced as she watched her hand stroking me firmly, so I was unsure how seriously she had responded. Instead of pursuing that line of questioning, however, I looked at her eyes watching me with obvious interest and then down along her neck under her done-up hair and down to her chest, where her breasts intrigued me anew.
After a minute she looked down at me, saw my line of sight, and smiled. “Go ahead, don’t be shy.”
I reached up with my right hand and cupped her left breast through her blouse and bra, then her right. I felt from one to the other, then held one in each hand as she stroked me a little faster. I tweaked her nipples and squeezed them happily, and then proceeded to caress them through the fabric as she quickened our pace. Ordinarily, I would have risen from the bed and stripped her bare, but I was too exhausted to do more than satisfy my curiosity as she satisfied hers.
“You need your rest, so let me finish you off,” she said. I stared up at her as she stroked me swiftly and mercilessly, and with a groan I lifted off the bed and into her pistoning fist. “Yes, that’s it,” she said as the first spurt shot out of me and up to my ear, streaking thick on her blanket above my belly with the next three shots and coating my belly with the last six. She kept stroking until the drops stopped coming, and after wiping me up with a towel, she wrapped me tight in the blanket, kissed my forehead, and said, “Next time I’ll let you see your new friends. Now sleep.” I was asleep before the door had closed.
Three hours later, I awoke. She looked up with a smile, put her book away, and said, “Need the bathroom?” I nodded and she helped me down the hall to it; after I flushed and washed my hands, she led me back to bed and said, “Let me get you lunch. Then you can have dessert.”
I ate lunch quickly, both from a ravenous appetite and from…well, a ravenous appetite. I finished in three minutes and she took the tray away with a smile. She sat on the edge of the bed and nodded toward my lap. “I think you were soft for all of five minutes.”
“I’m sorry I can’t do much.”
“I like this.” She slid her robe off her shoulders, finally revealing her breasts to me. They were firm and a perfect medium size, a palest white with light pink nipples and aureolae, and as I stared at them in delight, she uncovered me and began stroking me firmly.
After a minute she said, “Do you like me taking care of you?”
“Yes.”
“Why do men have such a thing for nurses anyway?” she asked casually as she stroked with unslackened rhythm.
“I don’t. Well, usually, but it’s kind of like that with you. I like being taken care of. On the one hand, it’s like I’m helpless and you’re choosing to pleasure me. It’s all in your hands.” We laughed and I said, “As it were. But it’s also like you’re doing anything I want. So it’s…”
“Master and servant…and mistress and her servant.”
“Kind of. A bit. Not totally. But for me, now, here, it’s simply I like you and you’re enjoying giving me pleasure.”
“Yes, that’s true. Play with your friends.”
I caressed her breasts so that they no longer swung beguilingly from side to side with her strokes, and when I came I sprayed everywhere, onto her arm and the blankets and her breasts and my arm, and she wiped me up as I dozed off.
She woke me for dinner and we repeated the quick meal and delicious dessert. She began stroking me and said, “Are my breasts what you hoped for?”
“And then some. Perfection. Large yet firm, and so beautifully shaped.”
“So much attraction to bags of chest fat,” she smiled.
“Speaking of which, it’s been months since I last sucked on some beautifully packaged chest fat, so…”
She laughed and slipped off her robe, positioning herself so her breasts dangled in my face as she stroked me vigorously. I sucked and kissed happily, her mammary dreams filling my eyes and mouth, and far too soon I bucked up under her relentless hand and sprayed like a fountain.
As she wiped me up I stayed awake and soon hardened again, and she winked, “My arm is exhausted. Whatever shall we do?”
“Would you…you know…”
She looked at me blankly for a second and said, “No, we can’t have sex yet. You’re too weak.”
“No, you know…your mouth.”
She shook her head and said simply, “Prostitutes do that. I’m not one.”
Puzzled, I then said, “Between your breasts?”
She smiled. “Yes, that was one of your promises when you were delirious. You promised me the world if I let you come between my breasts. You promised it to me several times, actually. Something about the world for my two hemispheres.”
She opened her purse and took out a tube. “I thought we might need this, so I went to the store while you were asleep.” As she lubed herself up, she said, “It’s odd how many men love breasts but so few actually like doing this. You’re the third.”
“But do you like it?”
She shrugged as she enveloped me in her soft flesh. “With you I do. Have fun now. Wear yourself out.” She laughed as I immediately thrust up fast and hard into her cleavage and her eyes shone as she watched me with eagle eyes. I stared down at the visual feast of her perfect breasts employed purely for my pleasure, and after only three minutes again sprayed everywhere. She watched me as I watched the spectacle, and then she sat back and said, “Should I wipe up or do you want to watch your cum dry?”
I smiled, “Let me watch for a while.”
“Yes, one man wanted that, the other made me wipe up so he could suck on them some more. Why do you like watching it?”
Her question was simple and uninflected, so I said, “When a woman lets you take your pleasure with her, your cum, it’s…like a sign of her permission. It feels like possession, but it’s not, really, more like a sign of a perfectly fulfilled agreement. If it was good. If she liked it. If she didn’t, you just want to hide.”
“So, a certificate of successful contract performance.”
We laughed and I said, “Well…Yes. Exactly.”
We laughed again, and she said, “It was as impressive as you said it would be, and you don’t even have to give me the world. Just your friendship. Like this. Warm, sweet. Happy.”
She looked down and raised her eyebrows, “Okay, you can give me that too!” We laughed at my renewed erection and she said, “I’m completely tapped out. Can you sleep?”
“Can I just watch you while I…?”
She smiled, “Please do. And then you have to sleep.”
I watched her as she sat before me, pummeling myself harder than she had as I stared fixedly in sick fascination at her cum-streaked breasts and chest, and with a short intense groan, I shot a small, hot, exhausting last load as she smiled and moved her breasts side to side. She wiped us up and as I faded away she said, “Sleep tight. You should be much healthier tomorrow.”
I awoke happily in bed as before, and my heart leapt as I saw her look up from her book and smile at me. “You should shower. Let’s do it together.”
She helped me up and led me again to the bathroom, and she slipped her robe off, letting me catch full sight of her light brown hairs at the top of her shapely thighs. She held me as I soaked in the hot water, and then she lathered me up as I explored her body with soapy hands. As I reached between her thighs, she grabbed my hand. “Not here. Don’t let’s start that here. You should get back in bed soon.”
We dried off quickly and she led me back to bed, and after tucking me in she slid in above me and matter-of-factly rested atop me as she slowly positioned herself. With a slow slide, she took me inside her and said, “Now have your fun.”
“How long do you need?”
She shrugged, “It feels nice. Do what you need to.”
“What about you?”
“I like it, whatever you do.”
I was puzzled until she gripped down and slid back and forth, and I held her hips and thrust up fast and hard into her. “Yes, that’s good, come for me,” she said, and far too soon I did. With deep satisfaction but nothing more, I drained my seed into her, looking up at her smiling happily down at me as biology took over, all the valves working perfectly as pleasure washed over me and faded, leaving exhaustion and a sense of dissatisfaction and even a touch of futility.
She lay atop me and curled up against me. “That was very nice,” she said simply, and I said, “Yes.”
“Did you like it? Was it good?”
“Yes.” Nonetheless, I felt cheated, the recipient of a good bout of exercise and a nice squirt of the phallic sperm pistol at the end, little better than masturbation after a session of desultory petting. I fell asleep quickly and woke to see her watching me over her book.
“After lunch, will you be ready again?”
“I’m ready now.”
We laughed and she said, “Keep up your strength! Eat first, then rest. Do you think you’ll be ready to be on top?”
I was eager to ravish her and just nodded. She smiled happily and said, “Shall we dine at the table?”
I walked behind her to the dining room, where she served us a light lunch with lots of water for me, and after she let me help her carry the dishes to the kitchen, I went to the restroom and then joined her in bed.
She opened her arms to me and held me, and as we kissed she reached down and chuckled, “Always ready!” Her thighs opened underneath me and tightened against my hips. “Take me, friend,” she smiled, and I slowly entered her yielding, soft, dispassionate body. She smiled up at me as I set a rhythm and gave her full strokes from mid-shaft to hilt, humping away like a favored client, and when I got close she tilted her hips to give me the perfect angle, and despite my best efforts I groaned and sprayed far sooner than I had meant as she squeezed down. “That’s it, oh yes, very nice.”
I collapsed and focused on the delights of her soft body enveloping me as I pondered the situation. She claimed to enjoy our lovemaking, indeed, she suggested and welcomed it, and expressed satisfaction with it. Not all women orgasm the same, I thought, but they usually called it better than “nice.” Still, if she had no problem with it, why should I complain?
After all, she was letting me orgasm inside her as many times as I could handle. All through high school I had dreamed of a woman letting me mount her, nail her, and finish inside her whenever I wanted for as long or as fast as I wanted, so why should I complain now that I had it? It was a friendly connection with free and happy sex, and I really liked her. Yet that wasn’t enough.
As I pondered this unusual problem, she rubbed my hair and said, “Was it nice?”
“Yes. Did you like it?”
She smiled, “Yes.” She gave me a peck on the lips and said, “Now let me up. You need to sleep, and I have chores to do.”
“Is it enough for you?”
“As much as you want, you can do it. I like it.”
“But do you really like it?”
“Well, yes. You’re one of the best. Don’t go fishing for more compliments though. You need to rest.”
She rubbed between her thighs with a towel and smiled, “You certainly come the most of any of my men. You must like me.”
We laughed and she cleaned me up with the towel and tucked me in. “Now sleep.”
I dozed off for a couple of hours and then got up to use the facilities and drink more water. I went into the living room, and she smiled up from the sofa. “Sit next to me for a few minutes.” We talked about business, and finally she led me to bed. She tucked me in and stripped, and after crawling in with me she raised me to lie on and then in her and looked up at me happily as I took a purely physical pleasure inside the most beautiful body and the most beautiful women I had ever had. She smiled beatifically as the spasms seized me and my sperm shot into her like a teenage dream of pure sexual abandon with no regard for the woman, and she whispered, “I love watching you come” as my last spurts flowed into her.
And so it continued for the next day and a half, when I finally felt good enough to get up and help her in the kitchen. She had taken off work for a couple of days to finish nursing me to health, and she was sitting next to me in exhaustion and soreness after a serious bout of housework. I had massaged her shoulders and back when she sat up and said, “Better let the cat out.”
“What cat?”
“Bruno. He’ll shit in the laundry basket if I don’t.” She stood, looked around blearily, and crumpled into my arms. Feeling her forehead, I chuckled sadly and carried her to bed. Fortunately, I was familiar by this time with what to do and I quickly got her under the covers and called her doctor. He asked about a few symptoms and said, “Yes, it’s what you had, and no more serious. I’ll see her tomorrow unless she changes for the worse. Watch out for…” and he gave me a list of symptoms and several do’s and don’ts. I then settled into the same vigil for her that she had kept for me.
Two mornings later she woke up pallid but coherent and smiled at me. “So, what did I babble?”
“Bruno sounds like a total asshole, even for a cat.”
She laughed quietly. “He was. And a total sweetie.”
“How old were you?”
“Just out of high school. What else did I say?”
“You do seem to love playing with cock.”
“You should know that by now.”
“You have a lot of names for them, or their owners. Not sure which.”
She stuck her tongue out at me and said, “Jealous.”
“Nah. Let me get you some water.” She simply nodded, and after a few minutes’ chat went back to sleep.
The rest of the day I fed her and let her sleep, and the next morning she looked much better. “You slept with me?”
“I already had it, and I wanted to keep you company. And if you had trouble.”
“Sweetie.”
“Not that sweet. I don’t think I touched you once. You seemed a bit sore if I did.”
“These muscles, probably. Ugh.”
As she lay there quietly, she said, “You know, I don’t make the same public announcements you do, but I think flu might have the same effects on my libido as yours.”
I raised my eyebrows and said, “You’re too weak and tired.”
“If you’re slow…”
“I have a better idea.” She gave me a puzzled look that deepened slightly as I lifted the covers off her below the waist. “It’s not too cold for you?”
“No, it’s warm enough.”
I kissed down to her waist and then ran my lips through her hairs. I pushed her thighs apart and looked down at the hairy mount with only a slit amid the forest. I ran my fingers along it as she said, “Do you like that? It’s really not interesting.”
“Yes, it is.”
“You like that? Really?”
“I like that a lot. And I like you a lot.”
She giggled and said, “Well, have fun.”
I ran my fingers along the join of her outer lips up to the mount and down to the other end and leaned in and kissed the slit again. I used my thumbs to spread her slit and get a peek at her inner lips, and I licked lightly all around and worked up to her tiny nub. I set to patiently, enjoying the task as I licked around and around and then a little way in. She had gotten wet quickly and her inner lips had slightly darkened as I explored her, and I focused my tongue on circling her clit, then licking a bit down one lip and up the other.
After five minutes, I set my fingers lightly exploring her lips as I concentrated on her clit. I looked up to see her steel-gray eyes staring down at me, sweat on her brow, with no trace of a smile on her face anymore. Her eyes widened and she whispered, “You needn’t stop.” I blew her a kiss and returned to my treat.
I settled in for the long haul, angling my neck for the greatest comfort, and I noticed her breathing was quicker and deeper. I smiled and continued, caressing from her hip to her breast and neck with my left hand as the tip of my right index finger circled lightly just within her tunnel. Her hips started to twitch rhythmically as my tongue circled with greater pressure, and over the next three minutes, I felt her hips begin to circle lightly under my tongue.
I pulled away to look down at her. Her inner lips were much darker and spread out before me like the inside of an open shell, and they glistened in the morning light. I ran two fingers slowly into her, feeling the front wall of her vagina much tauter under them as I searched for any interesting spots. I lowered my head again and held my tongue and lips around her clit as she started rolling her body under me; she was breathing raggedly as she settled into a slower rhythm than I expected, but I held my fingers and mouth in place as she thrust steadily under me.
She built slowly but surely as she exhausted me over the next twenty minutes. I felt all the usual signs of impending orgasm stretched out over twice the usual time or more, which allowed me to enjoy what often seemed a little rushed. As she reached her plateau before climax, I held two fingers against the hardest spot of her front wall and just let her ride me to the finish.
Finally, I heard her breaths develop into moans and her random thrusts coalesce into a vigorous fore and aft mad and hard against my face. Her thighs closed tightly around my head as she screamed. She slammed hard against me a dozen times, and a dozen more, my fingers enveloped deep inside her spasming vagina. My left hand squeezed her right breast tightly as both her hands held it there, and finally she collapsed and let me go.
I crawled under the blankets as she fell asleep and lay next to her for a few minutes. When she started snoring, I chuckled quietly and got up, wrapping her tightly in the blanket. I washed up and did any housework needing it, then returned to watching her. She awoke again after three hours or so and smiled at me. “Did you really do that or was I dreaming?”
I smiled back, “Oh, I did it. My jaw is still sore.”
She giggled. “You have a rash on your nose.”
“Rugburn.”
She giggled again as I sat on the bed next to her, and she smiled coyly, “You’ll do that again, I hope?”
She giggled a little crazily as I responded by simply uncovering her below the waist and feasting happily. She came more quickly this time and curled up next to me as I enjoyed her soft body and the heat of her subsiding passion. I wiped my face with a towel and we kissed deeply, the first time I had felt her tongue, and then I asked, “So, you never had that before?”
She shook her head, “None of it.”
“But you had…several men.”
“Eleven. Well, counting you. No, they never did that.”
“And yet you never came.”
“I did come. I thought I did. It was fun and there was always a little pulse inside me whenever my man came. They never complained, so I thought I was doing it right.”
“But they never even asked?”
“Oh, it makes sense now that they did, some of them. Like ‘Did you really enjoy that?’ Or ‘Do you need anything else?’ But I never knew I did.” After a pause, “Why didn’t they do that?”
“You said you didn’t need it. Should they disbelieve you?”
She sighed. “And most of them I don’t think had ever done that, what you did.”
“And you basically…it was like with me, right?” She nodded. “And you never lived with a man, or had a long-term thing?” She shook her head. “You both got what you wanted. Why make more of a commitment?”
She looked at me pensively. “Well, I certainly missed out.”
“You liked what you had though.”
She chuckled, “Now you’re just trying to puff yourself up. Listen to you.”
I laughed, “I just gave you a massive orgasm. I have a right to feel a little proud.”
She chuckled and looked into my eyes. “So does that mean you made more of a commitment than they did?”
“If you want it, yes.”
She smiled, “I do. Do that again.”
I laughed and did so and held on tight as she came three times in quick succession. She pulled me up and kissed me deeply, and she wiggled under me until she had me where she wanted. “Make sure I do it again.”
I thrust deeply as she gasped, and I stared down at her as she finally fulfilled my desires and fell to pieces under me. She kissed me passionately, thrusting her tongue into my mouth in time with the thrusts of my cock, and then kissed down my neck and with a squeal bit down on my shoulder as a smaller orgasm rushed through her. As I continued plowing deeply, she ran her fingers around my back, soon leaving scratches as her pleasure built. She met me thrust for thrust and groan for groan, and I held off long enough to see her head tilt back as the tendons in her neck seemed ready to snap, then as she screamed I bellowed and drained into her spasming cunt.
She held me inside her afterwards and asked, “Was that the best?”
“Yes.”
“You’re not just lying to make me happy.”
“The truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.”
She sighed happily and let me slide off her to hold her. “You’re hard again?” she asked in pleasure and surprise.
“For you, always.”
She chuckled. “What should we do? I’m tired.”
“There’s always your breasts.”
“True.”
She watched me happily and with great pride as I lubed her up and fucked her tits wildly, releasing my sperm into her hair and onto her ear and chin in less than three minutes. She climaxed at the same time against her own hand, and as I curled up next to her after wiping her clean, she said, “I liked that. You’re so cute when you come with that funny face of yours.”
“Mock not that funny face. It doesn’t look funny between your thighs.”
She laughed loudly and said, “It could have Groucho glasses and moustache, just so long as it never stops doing that.” Soon we were both asleep.
When I awoke, she was wrapped up tightly in a robe and a blanket next to me and had uncovered me below the waist. I opened my eyes to see her playing with my hard cock, and when she saw me awake, she said, “Good morning.”
“Good morning.”
“I’m very curious.”
“Have at it. I’m game.”
She smiled and grasped me tightly. As she stroked me I watched her watching me, and after two minutes or so she lowered her head and licked the head of my cock lightly. She worked her tongue around it, exploring the texture with both tongue and lips. Soon she took the head between her lips and let it nestle in her mouth as she played with it. She stroked the shaft lightly with her fingertips and soon quickened the pace. Her tongue circled as her fist pounded, and soon I groaned, “I’m coming,” which did nothing to slow her down.
I shot off hard into her as her eyes widened slightly, and the first two spurts dribbled out of her mouth as she blinked, but after that she timed her swallowing to match the spurts and drained me happily. She wiped us up and covered me, then kissed me and asked, “Good?”
I nodded.
“You still respect me?”
“Yes, really.”
“Really really?”
“It’s not just prostitutes that do that. Heck, they charge way extra, I hear. When your girlfriend does it, it’s perfect.”
“A gift.”
“Yes.”
“So a lot cheaper than a prostitute.”
We laughed and she said, “I plan to get lots of practice.”
“I have no objections to that plan.”
She giggled and said, “Now don’t you have to make us breakfast?”
A year and a half later I had just finished up some emergency work for an easily startled client who had a passel of questions he should have thought of earlier but that the documents I prepared should have answered, but as he had agreed to pay quite a bit extra for interrupting my vacation I was quite happy to satisfy every last doubt he had in mind-numbing detail. I clarified each point so even a scared rich man could understand it and emailed it off as Lilian came in from a trip around town and sat down happily.
I had never stayed in a hotel with nearly so many stars, and she had only once or twice, so we were enjoying all the amenities, such as the intimate coffee shop in an odd corner of the winding halls where we were at the moment the only customers. She ordered and sat pensively.
“Penny for your thoughts?” I asked.
“You’ll get my two cents’ worth.”
We chuckled and she said, “Ran into…an old friend in town.”
“Friend?”
“One of The Ten.”
“Before me. Ah. And you’re leaving me for him?”
She grimaced as I smiled. “Don’t joke like that. ‘I do’ is forever.”
“Then I can joke about it. If it weren’t I’d be too scared to.”
She shook her head as a smile played at the corner of her lips. “So we talked, caught up on old times. He’s married now too, so we compared notes. I finally got up the courage and asked him what he remembered of our times together. He said that they were very sweet. He remembered me happily but was surprised I did. He said it never seemed like I’d enjoyed myself. I said I had but not like that.”
After a pause, I asked, “And?”
“And he asked, ‘But you do now?’ And I told him yes, and he said for me to congratulate you.”
I smiled and nodded and she said, “So I thanked him and was about to leave when his wife came in. Blonder than me and the same figure, but blue eyes. I must have given him an odd look because he laughed and said, ‘I do have a type, don’t I?’”
We laughed and I closed my computer and packed it up, and we sat there quietly for a minute. She suddenly reached over to grab my wrist with three quick squeezes, which was our agreed sign to seek privacy, and we downed our cappuccinos and started to our room.
She asked, “Do you have a type?”
“Gray eyes. Slay me every time.”
She chuckled, “You’re sure it’s not just my tits?”
“Oh, no, not just your tits. There’s a sweet, wet, hot, tight little…”
She swatted me and chuckled. “From what I heard tell, though only from you, that’s true of every one of your…older ones.”
“Like I said, I have a type.”
We laughed and she added, “So why me?”
“Because I love you.”
“But why?”
“Every couple asks that. Few have an answer.”
“When did you love me?”
“I dunno, maybe when I saw the cello in you.”
She chuckled, “And you wanted to play beautiful music on me.”
“A fever that never ended. When did you love me?”
“Oh…sucking me off and never letting go seems to have turned the trick.”
“I was hoping it was my cooking when you woke up the first time.”
She laughed, “You don’t cook that well.”
“I know enough to boil water.”
As she closed the door behind us and turned to embrace me, she whispered, “Get started then. I’ve been simmering all morning.”