by Judith Gould
Taking his hands away, he turned his attention to her slacks. He unfastened the button and unzipped them, but didn’t let them fall to the floor. He went down on his knees and slipped the slacks down over her thighs, on down to her ankles, then waited as she lifted first one foot then the other, freeing her from the garment. He looked up into her eyes, then pressed his face against her stomach, swirling his tongue around her navel. As he did so, he slipped her panties down, down, down, and removed them as he had the slacks. Looking up at her again, he held her gaze for an instant before pressing his mouth against the black mound between her thighs. He placed his hands on her ass, pulling her firmly against his face, and moaned as he began to lick her there.
Crissy felt his tongue enter her, and for a moment she thought she would collapse on top of him. So exquisite was the sensation that she had to restrain herself from crying out. Her body began to tremble, and she could feel the wetness on her thighs as she began to approach an orgasm. He abruptly stopped, however, and swiftly rose to his feet. He kissed her, then rapidly removed his shirt and undershirt, undid his belt, and stepped out of his loafers. Kissing her as he unbuttoned his trousers, he then unzipped them, and let them fall to the floor. He stepped out of them and put out a hand for her to take, leading her over to the bed. At its edge, he took her into his arms and kissed her, running his arms up and down her back, and gently kneaded her round ass. Crissy could feel his hard cock against her, and she pressed him closer to her, in awe of his arousal and his intense desire for her.
He drew back. “Lie down,” he whispered.
Crissy did so, lying on her back, looking up at him. His body was perfection to her eyes, with a lean, well-defined musculature. His shoulders were broad and powerful and his arms were well developed. A long, slender waist was accentuated with ropey, horizontal abs that seemed to pulse with his every movement. His manhood sprang erect from a dark blond nest. It throbbed with life, and she could hardly wait to feel its length and breadth within her.
Tom eased himself onto the bed and got on his hands and knees above her, looking down into her eyes. He smiled, then leaned down and kissed her. Crissy put her arms up around his shoulders to pull him against her, but he had other ideas. His lips moved to her neck, his tongue flicking at her in feathery licks, then moved on down to her breasts, where he laved each one, licking her erect nipples. Crissy squirmed with delight and moaned, anxious for him to enter her, but he wasn’t ready yet. His tongue trailed from her breasts down to her navel, circled around it several times, then flicked its way to her dark mound. Repositioning himself, he placed his hands on her breasts, stroking them, thrumming her nipples delicately, a prelude, she discovered, to his tongue entering her most private place. She cried out and spread her legs wide, swept up to new heights of ecstasy as he fed on her juices, licking in a furor, delving deeper and deeper.
“Tom,” she gasped. “Tom . . . I’m . . . you’re . . . oh . . . oh . . .” She writhed from side to side, certain that she was going to be overcome by an orgasm at any moment, but he stopped, knowing that he had brought her to the edge. Rising up on his knees, he stared down at her before lowering himself atop her. Crissy threw her arms around his shoulders, relishing the feel of his powerful masculinity against her soft and yielding flesh.
He entered her slowly, watching her face as he did so, taking pleasure from the gasps of delight that escaped her lips. When he was entirely inside her, he stopped momentarily, and she savored him there, engulfing her with his manhood before he began to slowly move, in and out, in and out, until they were moving together in a rhythmic dance that gained speed as their desire mounted. Crissy cried out as wave after wave of exquisite contractions engulfed her in ecstacy. Tom, driven to new heights of passion by her orgasm, could control himself no longer. In a final plunge, he entered her to the hilt of his cock, his body tensing, before he emitted a lusty cry and burst forth inside her, his body trembling as his juices gushed in a torrent of lust.
He lay atop her then, his arms hugging her to him tightly. They were silent as they caught their breath, but he planted kisses on her lips and cheeks, her nose and eyes. He rolled to his side, holding her to him, careful to stay inside her. His hands slowly began to stroke her, tenderly, and when he could speak, he whispered, “That was wonderful, Crissy. You are wonderful.” He sighed with contentment and hugged her again, possessively, unwilling to let her go, she thought.
“I . . . I’ve never felt anything like this before,” Crissy said. “It’s never been this . . . good . . . this . . . exciting.” She meant what she said. Although she’d had boyfriends in the past and had made love with a couple of them, the lovemaking hadn’t been satisfying, let alone passionate. For a long time, she had avoided sex because her earlier experiences had been terrible.
He kissed her sweetly and hugged her closer.
As she lay in his arms, Crissy reveled in the golden afterglow of their lovemaking. She had never felt as sated, as fulfilled, as she did now.
Tom propped his head up, resting it on the palm of his hand, and stared at her face. His expression was difficult for Crissy to read, but she saw what she thought was a mixture of happiness and some degree of curiosity, as if perhaps he was wondering who she was and where she came from, beyond what he already knew.
“What are you thinking about?” she finally asked him, when he continued to openly study her.
“What an exceptionally beautiful, sensitive, and sexy lady you are,” he replied, smiling.
She laughed. “Think so, huh?”
He nodded. “I know so,” he said. “You’re . . . different somehow. Special. And I like that. I like it a lot.”
“What do you mean?” she asked, intrigued by what he’d said. “How am I different? And special?” She wondered if it was merely because she was part Asian, but she didn’t think that was what he had meant. That had hardly entered the conversation tonight, and it didn’t seem of any particular importance to him.
He shrugged. “I’m not really sure,” he confessed, “but part of it is that you’re so unlike a lot of the women I go out with and work around. You haven’t asked me what I do for a living, for one thing. You know, sniffing around like most women, trying to see how much I’ve got to offer in the money department. You haven’t tried to impress me either. Dropping names of local bigwigs you know or have met. That sort of thing. That’s really rare.”
Crissy laughed softly. “Maybe that’s because I don’t know any.”
“Oh, everybody’s met somebody, if you know what I mean. You know, like they’ve been to a cocktail party where the governor was. Or the senate majority leader. Or some visiting celebrity.”
Crissy laughed again. “Maybe I should’ve told you who my rich clients are.” She paused. “What a joke that would be.” She looked at him. “I’m afraid I would disappoint you in that category. I’m just a simple person trying to make a living, and I guess I’m not particularly drawn to the powers that be in Albany.”
“You mean that politicians and lobbyists and their wives don’t fascinate you to death?” he said with a laugh.
“I’ve met quite a few of them, the wives I mean, but they aren’t usually my most interesting customers. Sometimes, but not often. I guess I’m attracted to people who are a little bit . . . different.”
“Am I different?” he asked.
“You’re certainly different from most of the men I’ve gone out with,” she said.
“How?”
“You seem more . . . caring. More . . . sensitive.” She looked at him. “And you’re a real gentleman. A dying breed, I think.”
“Do you think I’m good-looking?” he asked.
“Of course you are,” she said. “You know that. You’re extremely handsome.”
“And am I sexy to you?”
She laughed. “Very, very sexy.”
He leaned close and kissed her. “I’m glad you think so,” he said softly. He began stroking her back lightly and running his hands over her r
ounded buttocks, kissing her all the while. Crissy brushed a hand down his powerful arm, then up to his shoulder and down his back, amazed anew by his hard, defined musculature. She mewled when she felt his flaccid penis begin to grow within her, and clung to him tightly. He began making love to her again, even more slowly this time, and they reveled in every moment of their time together, every movement of their bodies as they explored. And afterward, she was left with a sense of completeness.
They talked into the wee hours, cuddled and giggled, periodically raided the refrigerator, and grew to know the geography of each other’s bodies. When dawn’s first light began to seep through the windows, he knew about the little mole on her thigh, and she could describe the scar near his knee, where he’d had a torn ligament repaired. Their bodies spent, their minds still dazzled but exhausted, they finally slept, entwined together on the bed, their scents mingling in a perfume of carnal bliss.
Sometime around ten o’clock, Crissy awoke and saw him quietly dressing. She didn’t stir but watched him in silence. When he was nearly finished, she sat up in bed. He turned to her and put a finger to his mouth, shushing her before she could speak. He leaned down and kissed her chastely on the forehead, then silently slipped a card in her hand. He straightened up and made a pillow of his hands, laying his head against it. Then, without a word, he turned and left, quietly closing the door behind him.
Crissy looked down at the card. It was made of a heavy cream vellum and was expensively engraved, not embossed. THOMAS H. GENTRY III, ATTORNEY AT LAW, it said, then gave his office address, telephone and fax numbers, and email address. Crissy pressed the thick card to her lips, kissing it. She could detect his scent on it, and held it there against her lips for a long time, loath to relinquish this, the only physical reminder of himself he’d left behind.
She could hardly wait until he called, to hear that deep, sonorous voice of his. Maybe she would even hear from him later today, after he’d had some sleep. If not today, then he would call tomorrow, she was certain. She looked down at the card again. If for some reason he didn’t have time or couldn’t get to a phone this weekend—she remembered that he was having his house painted—she would call the business number on the card on Monday morning. Then she wondered if that was a wise move. She’d met him in a club after all. What if he was just playing her? What if he’d just wanted to get his rocks off and that was that? She doubted that many people found true love in a club. She would have to wait and see, but she had really enjoyed tonight. Monday now seemed an aeon away, as if time itself had been altered by the transformation in her life last night. She finally drifted off to sleep again, the card still in her hand, and slept deeply, peacefully, and full of hope for the future, even as she had doubts about his intentions.
Chapter Three
“I’ve never seen you shoot out of a place as fast as you did last night,” Jenny said with a laugh. “How was it?”
“Heaven,” Crissy said, brushing hair out of her eyes. The telephone’s persistent ring had woken her, but she still wasn’t fully alert. “That’s the only word for it, Jen. Absolute heaven.”
“Ooooooh,” Jenny squealed. “I’m so glad, Cris. He’s got to be the hottest man in town, and I mean that.”
“Do you really think so?” Crissy said. She got out of bed and went to the bathroom, where she got her bathrobe. Slipping into it, she went to the kitchenette. She had to have some coffee.
“Oh, please,” Jenny said. “Everybody knows that. He’s drop-dead handsome, built like a god, and rich as the devil. And he knows everybody who’s anybody.”
“Well, I don’t know about all the rest,” Crissy said, “but I know he’s good-looking and he has a great bod. I mean, I knew that he was a big shot on the social scene and all but—”
“Cris, hon,” Jenny said, “you don’t know the half of it. Everybody, and I mean everybody, is after him.” She paused, and Crissy could hear her taking a puff of a cigarette. “So tell me,” she went on, “it was really that good? He’s a real stud, huh?”
“Jen!” Crissy laughed. “You’ve got a one-track mind.” She ground the coffee beans and poured them into the filter, then switched on the pot.
“You bet I do,” Jenny replied. “Now tell me: What was it like? What’s ‘heaven’? Jenny needs to know.”
“Oh, well . . .” Crissy began. “It’s . . . it’s hard to describe, but we talked a lot. He wanted to know all about me. It was like he was really interested, you know? And he was a real gentleman. He didn’t come on too strong like some kind of Neanderthal. He took it slow and easy, and . . . Oh, Jenny, it was the best night of my life, I swear.”
“Oooooh!” Jenny squealed again. “I’m so happy. He must be some fuck. Has he got a big dick?”
“Jen!” Crissy cried. She couldn’t help but laugh. “That’s none of your business. Besides, this was much more than that. I mean, it wasn’t just the sex. It was . . . everything. Everything I had only imagined before, except I never imagined anything could be this great.”
“Jeez,” Jenny said, “it sounds like you’ve been bitten by the love bug.”
“Well, I can’t wait till he calls,” Crissy replied.
There was an ominous pause, then she said, “So he’s going to call you? This wasn’t just a one-night stand?”
“Oh, no,” Crissy said quickly. “It wasn’t like that at all.”
“Je-sus,” Jenny exclaimed. “I always heard he was a love ’em and leave ’em type. Nobody’s ever been able to pin him down, you know?”
Crissy felt mild alarm bells go off in her mind, but she ignored them, remembering the blissful night she’d had. “I don’t know if I pinned him down,” she said, “but I think last night was definitely the start of something . . . maybe something big.”
“You’re serious, aren’t you?” Jenny said.
“Yes,” Crissy replied. “I couldn’t be more serious.” The coffee was finally done, and she poured a mugful, then stirred in some skim milk and a packet of Sweet’N Low. “How was your night?” she asked. “Did you and Jim Golden do anything?”
“Oh, yeah,” Jenny said dismissively. “Old reliable, that’s Jim. You can count on him for a five-minute fuck.”
“Jen!” Crissy laughed, almost sputtering coffee. “I don’t believe you said that.”
“Jim’s idea of foreplay is to tell you you’re hot, grope your tits, squeeze your ass, then hammer away at you like there’s no tomorrow. You can practically set your watch by him. Five minutes max. A big grunt when he shoots. Then he rolls off, puts his clothes on, and leaves.”
“Oh, my God,” Crissy said. “Sounds like high school.”
“That’s the way most of them are,” Jenny said. “They never develop beyond that stage. You should know that.”
“I guess you’re right, but I haven’t had as much experience as you have,” Crissy said with a laugh.
“Not many women have,” Jenny said, shrieking laughter again. “And I intend to have a lot more. In the meantime, I’ve got to go take a long soak in the Jacuzzi and then slowly start getting ready for tonight.”
“Already?” Crissy said. Looking at her alarm clock, she could hardly believe it was after three o’clock in the afternoon.
“You know how long it takes me to get ready.”
“Who you going out with?”
“I’ve got a date with David Klein.”
“Who’s he?”
“He’s this really cute guy I met last night,” Jenny said, “and he asked me out to dinner tonight.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever met him,” Crissy said.
“He’s new in town. Some kind of lobbyist,” Jenny said, “but he’s not as old and dull as most of them.”
“Well, have a good time,” Crissy said.
“What are you doing tonight?”
“Nothing,” Crissy replied. “I’ve got appointments back to back all day tomorrow, so I’m going to try to go to bed early. I told Rosy I thought I was coming down with somethin
g, then called today’s appointments and changed them so I wouldn’t have to go in. But I’m glad I did: I’d be a zombie if I’d had to go in to work today.”
“Yeah, but it was worth it, right?”
“You bet it was,” Crissy said. “Now I just can’t wait till the next time.”
“Ooooh, I think I smell love in the air,” Jenny said. “Anyway, I’d better run. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
“Have fun tonight,” Crissy said.
“Hon, I always have fun,” Jenny replied. “Even if it’s five-minute Jimmy.” She laughed. “And I just know you’re going to have more fun with Tom.”
“I can hardly wait,” Crissy said.
“I bet you won’t have to wait long.”
“I hope not,” Crissy replied. “Anyway, I’ll see you later.”
Crissy pushed the OFF button on the remote and took a sip of her coffee. She suddenly realized that she meant what she’d said to Jenny: She hoped she didn’t have to wait long to see Tom again. She wished that he was here right now, curled up on the bed next to her. Just the thought of his body and his gentle touch stirred something deep down inside her, and she felt the heat of desire course through her body. Oh, my God, she thought. He can’t call soon enough.
Tuesday at ten o’clock Crissy arrived at the shop and barely acknowledged the greetings and waves from her co-workers and customers. Despair enveloped her in a cloud of such pain, she felt like a wounded animal. She had waited for the ring of the telephone on Saturday, but no one had called. Sunday, after work, she’d checked her machine, but there wasn’t a message from him. She told herself that Tom had gone someplace for the rest of the weekend, remembering that he was having his place painted. Then, Sunday night—in the wee hours of Monday morning, actually—she’d awakened and realized that, astonishingly, he didn’t have her telephone numbers, not at home or work or her cell. She hadn’t given them to him, nor had she told him the name of the beauty salon where she worked. He probably doesn’t even remember my last name, she’d thought. She had clutched the bedcovers to her breasts and laughed aloud, relieved that there was a simple explanation for his silence since he’d left her apartment Saturday morning.
