by Pike, Leslie
“I’m a music lover. Especially the sixties,” he says, nodding in recognition of the song playing.
The smooth sounds of Frankie Valli singing classic Motown fills the space. The scent in the room is something rich and dark, a bit mysterious. He takes my hand and twirls me. I start dancing, slow and sensually. When I crook a finger, calling him, a smile lifts the corners of his mouth.
“You’ve got a great ass.”
“You haven’t seen it yet,” I tease.
“I’ve been looking at it for days.”
“Is that right?” I chuckle.
“That dress. Don’t ever wear it for any other man. In fact, pretend you just bought it for me.” Behind the laugh lies the truth.
“I don’t have to pretend.”
He smiles. “I’ll bring your case.”
Taking my hand, he leads me into the bedroom and places the carryon on a table. The first thing I notice about the room is the all-white bedding. It’s been turned down. Luxurious pillows are propped against a dove grey tufted headboard. A grey and black fur throw lies at the edge of the bed. I want to lay naked on it with Zan in my arms.
A beautiful compact arrangement of white baby roses sits on the bedside table in an ebony-colored vase. He moves closer and takes me in his arms. The kisses start on my neck, at the spot right under the ear.
“Umm,” I moan softly, encouraging whatever he has to offer.
“You smell so good.”
With one hand he slowly unbuttons the two tiny mother of pearl buttons around my neck. I hadn’t thought of it when I got dressed, and a lesser man would have found the task daunting. Not Zan. It’s as if he once had a job at the button factory. Smooth and easy.
His eyes don’t stray from mine as the fabric slides from my shoulders. Now he gazes down. I watch the muscles in his jaw flex when he settles on my breasts.
“Beautiful Belinda.”
Going braless was my only option, but judging by his reaction it was the right one. My breasts may be my best asset.
He lifts the soft blue shirt over his head and sends it sailing across the room. Is this man real? Bronzed skin, six-pack abs and arms made for holding a woman. My fingers trace the hills and valleys, pecs and torso. He pulls my body in, rubbing my nipples against his. But when I touch his back I feel the deep scars running from waist to shoulder blades. It’s startling.
“I was whipped. Can you get past the feel? I won’t hold it against you if it’s something you’d rather avoid.”
That about breaks my heart. I turn his back to me and see the horror up close. Old, deep, scar tissue. I kiss each one. Tenderly.
Zan slowly turns back and takes me in his embrace. “You’re a beautiful soul.”
He slips the dress down. It puddles on the floor, and I step out in a thong and high heels.
“Turn around, baby.” He says it softly, but there’s passion hiding underneath the words.
Slowly, I turn and let him have a good look. Funny, my ass was always something I didn’t like about myself. Too big, too round, too high. Now those very qualities are what makes it appealing in men’s eyes.
His hands cup my cheeks and move over the curve of me. Looking over my shoulder, an appreciative grin lights his face.
“Fucking perfect.”
As I turn to face him, emerald eyes lower to my breasts. Lips and tongue meet nipples. Oh baby! He plays with my desire, bringing me to a crest then backing away. He’s an artist with the tease.
My hand moves down his torso, to the edge of his waistband. I can see the top of his peen ravine. The words of a forgotten reality show cast member floats across my memory. The higher the ravine, the bigger the cock. I’m in trouble. Pulling his waistband away, I’m about to prove the theory. But a hand encircles my wrist and interrupts where I’m headed.
“Angel of mine.”
He stops our foreplay and picks me up. I’m a feather lifted by muscled arms. Setting me down against the thick bed pillows, he gazes in my eyes. His hand moves to his cock and he grabs ahold.
“Look what you’ve done.”
It matters not that he hasn’t even unzipped yet. I can make out the entire shape of his hard, big member. Thank you saints in heaven.
I lie back as he removes my heels and sets them beside the bed. Picking up my left foot, he kisses my arch then rubs it against his crotch. Toes wiggle and run the length of the hidden shaft. I want to see it, touch it. Taste it.
And his emerald eyes close with the sensation.
Chapter 7
Zan
Her body. Those full suck-worthy tits. The flawless ass. Fuck. It’s taking all my willpower to control what I really want to do. The image of me ripping off panties comes to mind. But I’ve done that before. It’s kind of been my thing. Uncontrollable. Unstoppable. Yet Belinda isn’t like any other woman. Even in my lust I sense that truth.
For the very first time, I’ve the impulse to slow it down. There’s gold here. If I’m smart I’ll mine every moment before the voice in my head inevitably tells me I’m no longer able to control myself. I reach for the silky triangle.
“You first,” she murmurs, angling her legs shut.
There’s heat in her voice, which makes my dick twitch. Fuck. That’s good, baby. Tell me what you want. I want to give you everything you want. Let me be the lover you won’t forget. The fact I’m thinking this out at all is so obviously foreign. But I just go with it.
I unhook my belt and slip it off. The pants button gets undone. She watches me. It’s so raw, and there’s longing on her face. I’m feeling her. My dick strains against the fabric as I unzip.
Reaching inside, I touch myself. Hard dick in hand. It’s the male manifesto. We’re basically animals, and I’m the biggest gorilla in the jungle. The sounds of me beating my chest play in my head. My pants and boxer briefs are pushed down in one move. Belinda’s eyes take in my nakedness and the satisfied expression she wears is all the encouragement I need. No woman ever has been disappointed. But for some reason her approval means more than any other.
Instead of words, she uses body language to talk to me. Her long legs, knees bent, slowly open. Stretching them out and wide, she comes up on her elbows. The grin inviting me in. Yes. I get on the bed, kneeling between her legs. “That beautiful pussy? Now it’s mine.”
“Oh, is that right?”
I think she teases.
I just nod confidently. A man should know his strengths. With my finger I trace a journey over the panties along her lips. Her hips raise a fraction of an inch. My dick stands ready. It’s saying ‘what the fuck, man? Get to it!’
“Hmm, yes,” she murmurs, leaning her head back.
I lower my mouth to the source of our pleasure. Her delicate lips are kissable. So fucking kissable. There’s a little wet spot on the silk. Jackpot. Oh, she’s going to be orgasmic. Now her hips are grinding slowly, deeply, and she’s biting her bottom lip.
I hook a finger in one side, right between her legs, and pull the fabric back. Holy Christ. What a beautiful pussy. My lips find their mark.
The moaning starts quietly. It’s so fucking female. I kiss and lick, staying away from the clit at first. Don’t go too fast! But she tastes so fucking good and smells so clean. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Then she does something that sets me on fire. Her hands come to her lips and she opens herself and pulls back, exposing the little hard bud to my waiting tongue.
That’s it. The panties are off. Not ripped, but I wouldn’t be shocked to find out I poked a hole or two into that flimsy material. Now we’re naked and unafraid. I’m free to worship the pussy. My hands follow the curves of her, shoulders to feet. She’s satiny to the touch, like some kind of fine velvet. I want her. I want to look at all the angles and hills.
But first she needs to come. I can do that for this angel. Show her what real pleasure feels like. I hold her legs back, and right before our lips touch, those blue eyes say I’m the one who’s about to be schooled. Exploring the folds and mysteries of her, I
tease her clit. A man should know when to ease back. I bring her closer to the edge of the cliff. She’s deep inside the moment now. Moans are louder, deeper, strong.
“Zan! I’m going to…come! I’m going…”
A sound rises from deep within her, made of passion and lust. And it’s making me crazy with desire.
“I’m coming!”
Fingers thread through my hair and squeeze tight. She’s riding the wave. Lifting her hips to get every sensation, I cup her ass cheeks and help her get there. I taste the juices made from desire. That’s it baby, come!
Her entire body talks to me. Legs stiffen and muscles tense. But it’s the aftermath that speaks loudest. Her eyes lock on mine and I know she’s feeling the same way I am. We’re in the unknown, rolling in the deep. Whatever, wherever this is, it feels fucking great.
I climb up to lie face to face. Her chest rises and falls. There’s a knot of her blonde hair against the pillow. I’ve never seen such a beautiful woman.
“Did you come?” I joke.
That puts us into a fit of laughter that just seems to punctuate how unique this night is turning out to be.
“You could say that. Holy hell! Zan, you’re a master.”
I silence her with a kiss. With ten kisses. Each more meaningful than the last. Kissing Belinda is like reaching down deep in my own soul and discovering someone waiting there. Something I’ve never felt before connects. That’s the only way I know how to describe this feeling. Two pieces of a whole finding the other.
I’ve never kissed another woman like this. Never have I been kissed back like she’s doing. Her body slides atop mine and begins moving forward and back. Just a little. Slowly. Sensually. Oh, Christ. My dick is so fucking hard for her. I put my hands under her arms and follow her lead. Why would I try to resist? It feels awesome.
“Baby,” is all I can get out.
The smile. That’s sexy too. Everything about her is more than I’ve experienced before. More feeling, more meaningful. She’s deep now, under my skin. My dick is practically begging its way in. It presses against her lips gliding over eight inches of hard passion.
Then she straddles me. Lifting her hair onto the top of her head, she grinds. It’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen a woman do, because she’s well aware of the affect. There’s only one person in control now and it isn’t me. Oh, woman.
Hands to breasts. God. They’re perfect. Full mounds with high hard nipples. I won’t ever get tired of touching them, sucking those buds of desire and the pink aureoles. Am I in heaven? Is this a reward for a hard beginning, or just how it feels when it’s right?
I reach down and grab ahold of my dick. She lifts and guides me to the chamber’s door. Just feeling the head against her softness is enough to make me moan. We lock eyes and as she lowers herself on me what passes between us strengthens. I can hear puffs of air escape me with each breath. It’s so hard to control. It’s so hard. She’s tight. Which only works to make me want to fuck her deeper. Come on, baby. You’ve got this. Take it! But instead I speak the language a woman appreciates.
“Just go slow. We’re almost there, honey,” I say softly.
“I’m okay. It’s just big.”
She giggles when she says it, and even that makes the animal in me rise. There. I’m in. Oh God. A look comes over her that says more than the obvious. Damn, I’d swear she’s feeling what I am. No. Can’t be. I can’t even identify what it is in me. But here we are. Never thought I’d fall so easily.
I start to pump with quiet intention. Don’t rush it. Let her feel and build. But I needn’t worry. She’s moving with me. And it’s better than any other woman I’ve been with. There’s a rhythm to our lovemaking, two bodies in tune with the other, wave to shore.
“Oh yeah. That’s good. Ummm,” I say, feeling every sensation she creates.
“Don’t stop. Just like that,” she answers, nostrils flaring.
Her gaze holds and reaches into my soul. Everything about her is different from what I’ve known. My definition of sexy and sensual suddenly changed to something greater. A higher plane. I had no idea I was aiming so low before she showed up. And I have this strong feeling she would redefine everything in my life. She’s unique. And she’s mine. At least I hope she can be.
The first sensation of my impending orgasm emerges from its resting place. It’s making itself heard. Quietly at first, but quickly, undeniably, present and demanding release. I’ve got to hold off, because I want to fuck her and make her come over and over. I’m going to take her close to her limits then think about myself.
“Ohhh. Yes. Yes. There, right there.” Her eyes are closed; she’s lost in the sensation.
“Look at me,” I say, unwilling to be out of her gaze any longer.
Baby blue pools of light open, inviting me back. I’m inside her now. Not just physically but emotionally. There’s even a spiritual element. Fuck. Never had that happen before. The desire rises. I’m struggling to hold back.
“Baby! I’m coming!!” she shouts into the heavens.
The orgasm grabs ahold and takes me with it. I’m lost within the passion.
“Yeah! Come on me!” I holler to the ethos.
“Zan!”
She catches the big wave and rides it like a champion. Moving, positioning, picking her spot. The way she works it is artful. Grinding against me, her clit being massaged just as she likes. I can tell she’s trying to hold on to it as long as possible. It makes my own desire to come pick back up a little as if it hadn’t quite made its final arguments.
Belinda’s arms raise in the air in an exclamation point. The perspiration on her upper lip a telling sight. Her jaw tightening at the apex of the orgasm and her eyes turning a deeper shade of blue. Belinda’s animal appears and lets me see its powerful spirit.
I roll her over and get on top, dominating the moment.
“You’re not done yet.”
In a surprising move, she rolls on top of me and smiles.
“I need your cock in my mouth. Will you give it to me?” It’s not a command, but a request made undeniable by her soft tones. As if she’s hungry and asking me to feed her. What’s a man to do? My lifted brow and amused grin do the talking. Fuck yes you can blow me, woman.
She lifts off and slides down between my open legs. Oh Christ. This is going to be good. I can tell without a touch. My dick agrees. Fingers grasp my shaft and those soft full lips part and hover right above the head. Love this barely bearable tease. My dick feels like an electric charge travels the length. A pink tongue peeks out and very lightly touches the Holy Grail. Oh, son of a bitch!!
She’s not looking at me, which is the right move according to every man’s How To Give A Blow Job manual. I can close my eyes and get lost in the heaven she’s making for me. It’s all feeling now. Her lips pucker around the head, and the tongue flicking the most sensitive spot. Oh yeah.
My dick has taken charge. The brain is trailing a distant second. Her warm hand expertly moves up and down. Fuck. Everything is deep in the heart of me now. Then she begins to suck. Any control I had has left the room. I’m hers. Take it all, baby. Leave nothing but my bones.
As the sensation rises from the deepest part of me, I make my move. I bring her up to my face, then flip over on top. Now I can look in her eyes when I come. When I enter her I feel the warm welcome.
“You’re so wet. Take me like a wave, baby.”
She wraps her legs around my back and her arms around my neck. Her body undulating beneath me. Fuck yeah. The natural rhythm I’ve never had with anyone is an erotic dance. There’s no looking away from her eyes. I see far beyond this bed, this room.
“I can’t hold back. I’m going to…come…”
“Come to me,” she says. “And stay.”
Those unexpected few words release my orgasm from its last shackle. I explode into a million pieces, every cell in my body alive with the effect of her. It goes on far past the usual constraints of time. When the last shot of sperm is spent
, it feels like bolts of lightning are still shooting out my fingers and toes. Holy shit! I’m not gonna lie. This could be addictive.
The warning voice I always heard when it came to women is strangely silent now. The sea quiets and the wave retreats slowly, till I’m left standing on an unfamiliar shore. Looking into her eyes.
Chapter 8
Belinda
The last of the candles on the Morgan’s dining room table cast a golden glow. And the soft music in the background soothes the savage beast in me. I’m in the zone. A little wine and a lot of good conversations are a few reasons I’m in such a happy space. Well, almost. There’s no forgetting he’s about to go back home. Seven thousand miles away from me. But for tonight I’m going to try to appreciate every moment together we have left. There’s going to be plenty of time to hate my life later.
Graham’s taste in music is as sophisticated as I’d expect. Soraya’s dinner invitation was inspired, and I was pleasantly surprised when Zan was so open to meeting my best friend and her husband. Especially when time grows short. Tomorrow night is his last one here.
“Soraya and Graham have two children,” I say to Zan. “Chloe and Lorenzo.”
“That’s great.”
“Do you have any children, Zan?” Graham says.
I’m not sure why my stomach just flipped, but it’s probably because I never thought of asking the question.
“No. I’ve never been married.”
Whew.
Laughter rises from our hosts, and I know why.
“Well, neither were we, until after the fact,” Soraya shares.
Zan starts laughing too. “Well, that’s very modern of you.”
“It’s more innocent than it sounds. I found out about Chloe years after the fact, and this one…” he pitches a thumb at Soraya, “she played hard to get. Wouldn’t marry me till she was good and ready. That was seven months after Lorenzo was born.”
“But you have to admit I looked damned good in my wedding dress. Baby weight wasn’t going to ruin my fantasy of how I’d look on my wedding day.”
