Chapter One
"Perfect!"
Michelle
sat back in the comfortable leather sofa and let her eyes take in the little
fountain she'd just purchased and installed on her glass coffee table. Water
trickled in a lively way down into the bowl, with several small candles
wavering above it all. It added a nice touch to the small, but comfortable
room. It was serene, but also romantic, which was great, given Jason was coming
over.
She
gave the room a quick scan, making sure nothing was out of order, and nothing
to pick up. Behind her, the little dining room with its small round table was
neat and uncluttered. Beyond that was the kitchen, with all the dishes put
neatly away.
Michelle
herself was in a carefully arranged order which belied the effort she'd put
into it. She was "casually" dressed, and meant to look so, though she'd
agonized over exactly what to wear to give off the appropriate image of
insouciance. She liked Jason, but didn't want to appear too eager. In all
likelihood tonight was THE night, and she wanted it to be good. Their
relationship was developing nicely after a couple of dates, and he seemed both
sexy and fun.
So
Michelle was wearing a pair of loose white cotton pants with a drawstring waist
drawn low on her hips to reveal her lovely abs, and very tight gray baby-T
which hugged her upper body like a second skin beneath an open zip up sweat
top. Her soft brown hair was perfectly combed and yet tousled so that loose
bangs cut across her forehead.
She
was excited on more than one level by what she expected to happen that night. Jason
was a sexy man with a terrific body and a sly grin. He was tall, broad
shouldered, with a deep voice and a handsome face. He also had a nice car and
made good money.
Their
first date had been dinner and dancing, where he'd proved adept on the dance
floor, and teasingly expert with his fingers in light, sexy little touches that
made her body catch fire here and there. Their second date had gone
considerably farther, with her taking him into her mouth, and he driving her
into overheated fever with his hand down her pants and his mouth on her breast.
She
probably should have just done him then, but she thought he was special and
wanted to give off more of an image of restraint. God knows she'd shown little
when he'd had his hand down her pants, but the man really knew what to do with
his fingers! Michelle wasn't used to being overwhelmed like that and had been a
little afraid. She was still a little afraid, but anticipation and excitement
had pushed fear into the background.
The
buzzer went off and she jumped up, then slowed her walk to the intercom. She
buzzed him in, ran into the bathroom to check her hair and looks, then ran out
again to check the room. All was in order. It looked nice, as she did, but not
like she'd really tried especially hard.
She
deliberately did not go to the door until he knocked, then walked slowly, soft
music playing in the background. She opened the door and smiled brightly as she
cocked her head back. Jeez, he was taller than she remembered.
"Hey,
beautiful," he said with a lazy grin.
His
arms went around her and his mouth came down on hers and Michelle felt a
wonderful feeling of being surrounded by him, of being enveloped in his
powerful maleness and masculinity. She let herself sink into it momentarily
after he kissed her, then held her against his chest. Then, remembering
herself, she pulled away, clearing her throat.
"Come
on in," she said brightly, heart pounding.
He
walked in and looked around with evident approval as she closed the door
behind. "I wanted to - ."
He
turned as she came up behind him and then his arms were around her again, his
lips on her, and whatever she had intended to say went unsaid as his tongue
plunged into her mouth and his hands slid down to cup her buttocks through her
thin cotton pants. She moaned into his mouth, struggling briefly. She had
everything planned out; wine and casual conversation, a light dinner, then a
slow descent into what she hoped would be a deliciously hedonistic night.
Instead
her pussy was already starting to throb as his fingers kneaded her buttocks and
his tongue slid against hers. The hands she pushed against his chest slid up
onto his shoulders, luxuriating in their power and size. And then she gasped as
his finger dug harder into her bottom and he lifted her into his arms. She
squealed in girlish delight, feeling excited anew at his male strength as he
carried her back to the sofa and sat down, with her straddling him.
Their
lips were still sliding together, and she felt a wild heat within as she
straddled him, her knees pressed into the back of the sofa on either side of
his hips, his hands sliding up and down her back and through her hair. Then his
fingers slid up beneath her sweater, up along her bare back, up inside her
baby-T, and she groaned as her insides went liquid. Sure, it was only her back,
but his skin on hers was sending sexual electricity rippling through her belly
and down into her groin as their tongues and lips continued to slide sensuously
together.
Then
one of the hands under her baby-T unclipped her bra, and no sooner had she felt
the jolt of excitement that brought when the hand had slid around her ribs and
was massaging her bare breast. She groaned at the surge of heat through her
body, but felt she needed to do something to slow him down, to regain control,
so things went according to plan, so he didn't think she was too eager, too
slutty, so he respected her...
He
pushed the zippered top over her shoulders and down, and in the same movement
tugged her tight baby-T up to bare her breasts. She gasped, trying to reach for
him, to push back, but the top was pinning her arms behind her. Then his mouth
had pulled free of hers and was on her breast, the suction on her areola and
nipple sending crackling heat through her chest as his tongue stroked across
her aching, burning nipple.
"S-Jason!"
she moaned in protest.
He
sucked on her breast, on her nipple, and she moaned anew. Then he pulled the
Baby-T up over her head and pushed it back. The little top dug in tight beneath
her arms, and as with the zippered top, restrained her arms as he began to move
his hands and mouth across her chest. She could only sit there and moan as he
kneaded her breasts, sucked her nipples, caressed her skin, and turned both
breasts to throbbing, overheated fire.
She
squirmed on his lap, feeling his own rising hardness, gasping for breath as her
body overheated, as sexual hunger rippled through her mind and flesh. His big
hands, and obvious strength easily overwhelmed her, and he moved her around as
though she were a child, turning her on his lap now, so she sat astride him.
She felt his fingers in her hair, jerking her head back, forcing her back to
arch, her breasts to push up into his licking, sucking, ravishing mouth.
It
was... the mastery that startled and excited her. She'd never been so easily
mastered, overpowered so effortlessly. He wasn't asking or seducing. He was
doing what he wanted, and with her arms pinned she almost felt as though she
were his prisoner, his helpless toy. And that sent fire through her veins for
reasons she couldn't even begin to comprehend.
Her
breath was ragged, her heart pounding, blood racing, and she could do little
more than moan in response to his sure, confident movements. Then his hand slid
down the front of her trousers and into her panties and she shuddered, hips
bucking violently the instant he found her moist sex.
"Oh!
Oh! Ungh!" she gasped as he deftly manipulated her
swollen button.
And
then the orgasm was upon her, and she shuddered, her hips grinding, bucking up
against him, head falling back as her mouth opened wide in gurgling moan of
passion and dazed wonder.
The
orgasm reduced her to a quivering wreck, and she lay there gasping for breath,
chest heaving, as Jason slid her trousers and panties down and off, then peeled
her top and baby-T over her shoulders and down her arms. He tossed them all
onto the floor behind the sofa, then gathered her into his arms, his hands
moving gently over her naked flesh as he kissed her lightly.
"Jesus,"
she moaned. "I can't believe... you really know how to operate," she said
breathlessly.
"You
have a fantastic body," he said, fingers rolling her nipple, mouth dancing
lightly along the nape of her neck.
"You're
amazing," she said, kissing him hungrily.
He
chuckled, and pushed her back briefly. "So? Do you have anything to drink?
Aren't you going to offer me some refreshments?"
She
giggled wildly. "You're weird!"
"Am
not." I'm amazing. You just said so."
"You're
amazingly weird," she sighed.
"Then
I deserve a drink."
He
pulled back and lifted her off him, then slapped her bottom lightly.
"Jason!"
she gasped in mock indignation.
"Get
me drink, woman," he growled.
She
giggled again, feeling flush with her recent orgasm and strangely shy now that
she was nude and away from him.
"Aren't
you going to undress?" she asked.
"Eventually,"
he said with a cocky grin. "I'm fine like this for now."
Self-conscious,
she crossed the floor to where she'd kept the wine and glasses, then brought
them back to him and poured. She was awkwardly aware of her firm breasts
dangling before him as she bent over the coffee table and poured, and gasped as
he reached up and gently squeezed one.
She
straightened and grabbed her pants, but he leaned over and snatched them away.
"No, no no," he said. "I want you naked, little
girl."
"Jason!"
she protested.
But
he grabbed her slender wrist and tugged her down onto the sofa next to him,
where she self-consciously crossed her legs as he picked up the two wine
glasses and handed one to her.
"So
how'd work go today?" he asked.
It
was the normality of the conversation which followed which struck Michelle as
being so bizarre. After all, she was completely naked! And he was fully
dressed! Her gentle efforts at getting him to undress came to nothing, and it
was clear he wanted her to remain naked. That struck her as slightly
irritating, but she felt incredibly aroused and erotic at the same time, being
naked while he was fully clothed.
She
was confident of her body, after all, and knew her slightly tanned skin, well toned thighs and belly, full, firm breasts and bottom,
and well-sculpted legs were more than attractive. Still, it felt - weird.
"Dinner
will be ready soon," she said as they nibbled lightly on each other's mouths.
"I
plan to eat a lot of things tonight, but nothing tastier than what I've got
now," he said, his arm sliding around her waist to draw her in closer.
"Jason!"
she protested again, but in delight.
Then
he was pulling her across his lap, draping her across him on her back as his
hands moved over her body. His fingers traced the line of her neatly shaven
sex, and then slowly eased between as she groaned and sat up. His finger
squirmed deeper and she moaned, an arm around his shoulder now to support
herself, trying to lean in to kiss him.
His
thumb began to stroke across her clit and she shuddered, fighting to keep from
squirming and grinding against him, kissing the nape of his neck and pressing
her mouth in firmly to stifle her groans, amazed at herself, at what he was
doing to her, at how wildly excited she was becoming. He had two fingers
sliding up inside her now, and she was moist and hot, her insides sucking and
squeezing and spasming around his fingers.
"Oh
God! Oh God!" she gasped.
The
timer on the stove went off, and he eased back. "Dinner's ready," he said,
pushing her off his lap.
"Fuck
dinner," she gasped.
He
chuckled, and rose, gripping her shoulders, turning her towards the kitchen,
marching her forward as he came behind.
"Jason!"
she protested again.
"Wouldn't
want dinner to burn."
Michelle
knew this was going to be a night like no other.
A
little dazed, her pussy throbbing with hunger, her bare feet slapping on the
tiled floor, she took the food out of the oven, again feeling decidedly odd in
her nudity. She set the food on the counter, and turned to him.
"We'll
eat later," she said.
He
turned her back again, slapping her bottom once again.
"Men
need to be fed, woman," he said in a mock growl.
And
so they ate dinner, sitting across from each other at her little table, she
naked, he fully clothed. Michelle was hardly aware of what she was eating as
she squirmed in her chair, for her hunger came from an entirely different
source. Her pride made her try to pretend to the kind of casualness he was
exuding, but she knew, as he grinned at her teasingly, that she was failing.
"Bastard,"
she said sulkily.
He
only grinned more.
She
ate very quickly, almost choking. And found the knife and fork taken out of her
hands as he shook his head in patient reproach. He cut her meat carefully,
speared the peace with his fork, and held it up to her mouth. She stared at
him, open mouthed, then took it off the fork.
"Chew
carefully," he ordered.
She
did, as he cut his own and ate, then cut another piece for her.
She
wanted to protest, but there was something decidedly exciting about having him
feed her, and he seemed content to do so, cutting piece after piece, and
letting her take it off the fork.
It
took far too long. And then, as she scrambled to toss everything into the sink
he insisted the dishes be washed first. She stared at him, open-mouthed, but she
knew he was teasing her.
"Fuck
the dishes."
"No,
no, no. Cleanliness is next to Godliness."
He
pushed her to the sink, turned her towards it, turned on the water, and took
her wrists, forcing her to pick up each plate, each knife and fork, and wash them
off, until, exasperated, she began doing it herself. Then his hands released
her wrists and turned to other parts of her body. As she tried to wash the
dishes he gently squeezed and kneaded her breasts and bit lightly along the
back of her neck.
And
then, when she was done, he took her wrists again, bringing her soapy hands up
and back against her own body, rubbing them against her breasts, across her
chest, over her belly as he chewed at the nape of her neck.
His
hands were wet, too, and now soapy, as he pulled her head back and around by
the hair and leaned in to kiss her with his own growing passion. Their lips met
hotly, and their kiss grew even hotter. Then he brought his soapy fingers down
between her legs and began to do those amazing things to her again so that Michelle's
hips ground and bucked and her breathing turned to shallow, ragged gasps.
The
orgasm buckled her knees, and she would have fallen had he not pressed her
against the counter. As it was her buttocks ground and slapped violently back
against his groin as he fingered her to a climax even more powerful than the
first one.
She
had given up by then, in even thinking about doing anything other than what he
wanted. So when he told her that she was now soapy and needed to rinse off
before he could "taste her", then led her to the bathroom, she did not resist
at all. Nor was she surprised, by then, when he failed to climb into the shower
with her, or disrobe. She showered, the water pouring over her, as he sat on
the counter and watched.
"Soap
up more," he said with a grin.
Flushed,
feeling kinky and wild, an exhibitionistic thrill making her blood boil, Michelle
complied, running the soap over her breasts and belly and down between her legs
as he looked on.