by K D Grace
I told him I hadn’t, but I was going to shed a load then and there. I dumped him, went on an eating binge and two years and three dress sizes later I decided maybe he’d been right. I hit thirty and a cholesterol level you don’t even want to know and I started my diet.
“You look far too serious, my Belle, you’re not having second thoughts are you?” Roman’s features were still strong, his eyes sparkling with confidence but there was a wobble to his lip, a line to his brow that showed he was a little unsure.
“No,” I shook my head. “No, I was just thinking of the past. Sorry.”
“Don’t apologise, gorgeous. Smile and tell me something dirty.”
I giggled, looked to the floor, watched the worn tarmac disappear behind me and then whispered. “I want to suck your cock, I want to taste you.”
“Mmm, yes, your pretty lips will look so good at the base of my dick.” He didn’t shout it, I’m sure but it seemed like he was talking incredibly loudly. My cheeks burned as I saw a young couple on the other side of the road. Had they heard?
“Do you know what I want, Belle?” He didn’t wait for me to answer. “I want to tie you down and eat you up. I want to cover you in cream and chocolate and sprinkles and I want to lick it all off. I want to spank you, I want to make you cum but most of all I want to fuck you. Hard.”
I licked my lips and gulped. My knees wobbled and Roman pulled me closer to him. He laughed.
“Does that sound good to you, too?”
I could only nod. Thankfully we’d reached my block of flats and I had to extricate myself from him to find my key and let us in. We stumbled to my door — I was so glad I was on the ground floor.
“Bedroom?” He walked across the room to the small corridor at the back.
“To the left, “I called after him, locking the door, slipping off my uncomfortable heels and throwing my handbag onto the sofa. My heart thudded. I wasn’t anxious about the state of my bedroom, I am somewhat of a tidy freak and I wasn’t scared about having sex.
No, it was the getting naked bit that gave me palpitations. What if when I took off my confining dress, my tummy tucking knickers and my cleavage forming bra he didn’t like what he saw?
He’d not wasted any time. When I walked into my room he was already stripped down to his boxer shorts.
“Ah, I thought you’d got lost. Come here, Belle.”
I walked towards where he stood by the end of my bed. I couldn’t help but devour him with my gaze. His chest was broad and smattered with light blond hairs, a thin trail of which led down to his belly button. His stomach was virtually flat, just a soft curve of padding there. I felt a stab of jealousy, knowing my stomach could never be classified as flat. A similar word, yes but not flat.
I didn’t dwell on that. The toffee tone of his skin, the puckered, darker tone around his nipples and the tamed strength of his body turned me on and turned my mind to sex.
“My Belle, you are far too dressed,” he purred as I walked into his embrace. He spun me round and ripped down the zip on my dress. Once my back was revealed he slid his big, warm hands over my shoulders under the cloth to push it off me. His fingers trailed down my shoulder blades to my waist and aided the discarded material over my hips to pool onto the floor with a slither.
I gulped. I couldn’t see his expression but I imagined his eyes boring into my back. Did the layers that I knew marred my figure turn him off?
“Beautiful,” he murmured, lifted my hair and dropped a gentle kiss to the back of my neck. “You look divine.” He unclasped my bra with surprisingly little effort. I felt my heart sink. I held my breath. My breasts lowered into their natural position, nipples straining and hard. He eased the straps down my arms. The satin no longer shielded me. He peered over my shoulder, his chin resting in the dip, his slight stubble tickling the side of my face.
I marvel at how much worry I can pack into just a second. I waited anxiously. I imagined him pulling away, calling me fat. I imagined his disgusted face. I waited. It could have only been seconds but it seemed to drag on forever.
He cupped my flesh and moaned. I felt his desire quite literally in the small of my back. He was hard. I melted with relief and arousal. His thumbs stroked over my straining nipples and I whimpered, rubbing my face against his.
“My God, you’re perfect,” he growled. “So soft and giving.” He pinched my nipples. Not violently, not maliciously but hard enough to make me yelp. The pleasure that flowed through me in response took my breath away.
“So responsive. Fuck, Belle, can you feel what you’re doing to me?”
“Yes...” the words stick in my throat and come out like a dry rasp. I could feel him hard, hot and vibrant through the silky material separating us. He put pressure on my right shoulder and I turned to face him. He immediately kissed me, his full lips stimulating mine, pulling my breath from me, making me dizzy with desire.
“I need to taste you,” he rumbled, and pushed me back onto the bed. I didn’t have time to think before he was kissing my stomach and pulling down my knickers. My legs flailed and soon so did my panties — he left them hanging from one ankle. Roman grabbed my waist and pulled me down onto his face as he knelt on the floor between my thighs. His tongue tickled my lips and clit. He moaned, and pressed into me harder. He devoured me like I was his favourite dessert; he didn’t let me catch my breath, he didn’t give me chance to think. I just moaned, cursed and thrashed beneath him.
He was enjoying the taste of me and I don’t know if he was focusing on my pleasure, or if the pleasure was all his. When I came I shuddered and tightened my thighs around him. He sucked, making sure to drink down every drop of my nectar and I felt my orgasm rolling with every lick and every move of his lips. I had never felt so alive before.
He licked his lips and lent a knee on the edge of the bed. I scrambled back. I knew the bulge in his briefs needed to be dealt with. He pulled them off and I moved further back. I worried then. He could see my stomach, my whole body laid out before him. My flesh wobbled and I wanted to hide it. I covered myself the best I could with one arm. I lay back then and employed the other, too.
“No, no,” he tutted and reached down to the floor. He picked up my bra. “No hiding, I want to see it all.”
He grabbed at my wrists, wrapping the stretchy material around them and tied a tight knot. I wasn’t sure my poor underwear would ever be the same again. I didn’t care. I liked being at Roman’s mercy.
“Much better,” Roman nodded then picked up the wallet he’d discarded on my bedside table and pulled out a packet. I was glad he’d come prepared as I had no such protection. It’d been such a long time since I last had sex.
I was ready for him though. Slick and needy, I quickly accustomed to the heft of him as he stretched me. I moved my hands up my body as I stretched out. I ended up with my arms raised, my tied hands thrown up and over the far side of my bed. The pull in my shoulders was a little uncomfortable but I loved the way it stretched me out and made my breasts so prominent. I felt my nipples grazing his chest, his light hairs tickling and arousing me. I felt so much stimulation and he was so hard and hot within me that I had to move before it became too much. I worked my hips up and down, getting used to him inside me. He moved too and sparks of arousal fanned out from my cunt, tickled along my limbs and swelled the ache inside.
Roman was noisy and enthusiastic. I was usually the quiet kind but I found his exuberance rubbed off on me and soon I was moaning and yelling as loudly as he was. I raised my tied hands and hooped them over his neck to pull him close. He fucked me harder. He leaned in and nibbled my neck and I bucked my hips faster and higher.
“Oh, Belle, Belle, my pretty one,” he cooed. “Oh...fuck...”
He held still within me and I wrapped myself around him, milking every last drop of ecstasy from our joining.
Roman cuddled with me in bed for a while, gave me his
mobile number, made a date then left. I was still in a post-orgasmic daze as I lay in my bed, enjoying my body for the first time in forever. My skin felt tender with his kisses, I felt like I shone with his love. I fell asleep with a smile on my lips.
♦♦♦♦
“Have you got knickers on?”
“Well hello, Roman. Good to see you too.”
“You didn’t answer my question,” Roman leant in and pressed a kiss to my cheek. “Are you wearing knickers?”
“Yes, of course,” I replied, “why?”
“I want them.”
“I can tell you where I bought them but I didn’t have you down as a man who’d enjoy that kind of thing,” I teased.
“No, Belle, I want yours, but let’s sit down and order a drink first.”
I had been intensely nervous before that interlude — afterwards I’d swear my heart was beating hard enough to audible at the other end of the room. We’d arranged to meet in a swanky Italian restaurant, not my usual haunt so that put me on edge. I had been told to wear my fanciest clothes. So I had bought a new dress, purple, lacy and short and new high-heeled shoes to match. The first heeled shoes I’d ever worn. It took me a few hours of walking up and down my living room in them to get comfortable tottering on them. I felt sexy, though. I just hoped Roman appreciated all the effort.
And what did he do? Made me a nervous wreck within seconds. What a man. I was desperate for some kind of compliment, a little consolation but no, the sod made me feel even more off balance than my new high-heeled shoes.
“You look delicious,” he said as the posh waiter showed us to our table. “Good enough to eat.”
“Thank you,” I smiled, blushed and hoped the server hadn’t heard him. Although I was soothed a little by the compliment.
“I can’t wait to get my teeth into you.”
If the waiter heard he was far too well trained to let it show. He held the chair out for me as I seated myself, and Roman settled himself opposite then ordered a bottle of wine. I assumed it was expensive, hoped it would be tasty. I was out of my depth and my stomach fluttered with nerves.
The waiter passed me a heavy menu and smiled. I looked at it and tried to ignore the prices. A starter seemed to cost more than I’d usually pay for a whole meal.
“I don’t know what to have,” I said, breaking the silence. “It all looks so good.”
“Indulge yourself, pretty one. I think I am going to have the Carpaccio to start. It’s delicious, considering it’s raw.”
“So we’re having a starter and a main then?” I needed to know what to order.
“And a dessert — a meal is not a meal without something sweet to end.”
“Oh, right.” I panicked. I had been very good, eating only a banana for breakfast and a light soup for lunch, but even so I was sure the three courses would push me over my calorie intake for the day. Calorie counts weren’t written on the menu, and I wondered if I could ask.
“Don’t worry about the price,” Roman’s words cut into my panic. Obviously it had been showing on my face. “It’s my treat. It’s worth every penny just to have the honour of sitting across the table from you in that ravishing dress.”
“Thanks,” I smiled. At last he’d given me a little comfort, even if it wasn’t quite what I had been looking for. “You say the sweetest things.”
“Because you are the sweetest thing, love. What are you going to have?”
I bit my lower lip and concentrated. I looked up and Roman was grinning at me. He could be covered head to toe in mud and he’d still look devastatingly handsome I was sure. Where that thought came from I had no clue. I was all up in the air and all because of that devilishly good looking man on the other side of the table. I looked at the menu again. Surely there was something healthy on it?
“The rocket salad sounds good, I like rocket.” Phew, salad to the rescue.
“And mains?” He quirked his eyebrow. “Now come on, live a little.”
“The cod looks good,” I replied quickly. I was on top of it now. The menu wouldn’t defeat me.
“Wonderful. Now, while I order, you go into the ladies room and slip off your knickers, please.”
“Pardon?”
“You heard me. I know it’s not terribly original but I want your panties in my hand. I want to slip them into the pocket of my jacket. I want to enjoy your scent through the meal. Now go. Or do you want a spanking?”
I opened my mouth then closed it. I repeated the action. Words wouldn’t come and I just floundered. I probably looked like a beached fish, too. I wasn’t sure if I was pissed off or really turned on.
“I mean it, Belle. I’ll spank you right here, I have no problem with that.”
“No,” I gasped, waved my hands. “No, Roman, please...”
“Knickers, Anabel. You know you want to.”
I looked into his startling blue eyes and realised he was right. I wanted to please him. I wanted it so very much. I was scared though, what if this sexy man was just playing me for a fool?
He reached over the table and stroked my cheek.
“Please, for me?”
Who could resist that look? The slight pout, the pleading in his eye. I nodded.
I walked the length of the classy, softly lit room. I looked straight ahead. I didn’t want to know if people were looking at me, and I certainly didn’t want to look them in the eye. I wondered if my cheeks were bright red. They stung with heat. I was hot, flustered...and wet. Really wet.
I hurried into a stall in the Ladies’ Room, clicked it closed and sat down on the cool, white toilet. Wow, even the toilets intimidated me. Dark wood, gold fittings. I was going to take off my knickers too. In such a posh establishment and with a relatively short skirt on. Would people be able to see?
I knew I shouldn’t hang around, Roman was eager to have my undies in his possession. I stood, took a breath and removed my underwear. They were pretty. I’d bought them new for the date. I decided I might as well do, I had bought everything else especially for the occasion. Why not splash out on some lacy undergarments? I’d rather enjoyed entering the lingerie shop in the high street and picking things off the rack. They had my size now. There had been a time when the only panties I fit into were big, cotton granny ones.
I sat down and quickly rescued the purple lace undergarment from the white tiled floor. I scrunched them up into my hand, although it was still fairly obvious they were there. My ass was smaller these days, but it still needed a good bit of lace to cover it. I took a deep breath and exited the stall. No one was around. I took a quick look at myself in the mirror, straightened my dress and flicked an errant hair from my cheek. I tried hard not to notice the garment clutched in my left hand. After all it was barely noticeable. If I kept telling myself that, surely it would be true?
I strode across the restaurant scared that at any moment I’d hear someone commenting on the whore coming out of the bathroom with her panties in her hand. I didn’t hear anything of the sort. It might even have been said, but the rushing of blood in my ears would have drowned it out. I buzzed with nerves and arousal, I wasn’t sure where one stopped and the other began.
“Ah, you’re back.” Roman smiled. “I’ve poured you a drink.”
“Thanks,” I smiled awkwardly and sat down. How was I supposed to do this? I wasn’t skilled in this kind of etiquette. Actually, was there a particular way to pass your damp panties to a man in a posh place like this?
“I ordered for us,” he continued, and for a moment I wondered if he’d forgotten what he’d asked for. “Have you got something for me?” His eyes sparkled as he held a strong hand out over the centre of the table.
I nodded and put my hand in his. I slowly let go of the material, watched it spill between his fingers before I drew back my hand.
“Oh, pretty,” he murmured, then held the material up to h
is nose and sniffed. I was mortified. I was also more turned on than I’d ever been in public before. Could he smell me? Could he feel how wet the crotch was? Did he know how hot following his instructions made me?”
“Mmmm, delicious.” He licked his lips and slipped the lace into his top pocket, fluffing it out like an elaborate handkerchief. I surreptitiously glanced around. No one seemed to be paying us any attention, but surely if someone looked they’d know that a lace hanky wasn’t practical for a man. Surely they’d work it out.
I took a very long, deep swig of my wine. It was sweet and fruity but with a dry edge. I could almost taste those weird things wine snobs always go on about. It was clearly a much classier wine than I was used to drinking.
I tried not to think of it as empty calories. It was a treat. I was going to relax. With a bare bum under my dress and my knickers sticking out of Roman’s top pocket. I’d need all the wine I could get!
“Tasty, isn’t it?” Roman smiled. “It’s my favourite.”
I nodded and took another sip. The alcohol buzzed straight to my brain, or maybe that was just the effect of his smile.
“Your salad, miss.” The waiter had appeared beside us without me even noticing.
“Thank you.”
I bit back my dismay when I saw the leaves drenched in dressing. The tomatoes interspersed with white chunks of mozzarella. I couldn’t eat cheese!
“Just enjoy it,” Roman whispered, picking up his fork. “It’s a treat.”
“Oh, sorry, I’m not — no I’m just on a diet.”
“Not now you’re not, not here with me. Now you’re going to enjoy that good food. Okay? Don’t worry about it.”
“I’m sorry, Roman. It’s taken a lot of hard work to get here and I don’t want to ruin it.” I really was upset that I couldn’t just relax and enjoy the meal like he wanted me to. I wanted him to know why, though.
