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.