“I know you won’t, you don’t have to. I do trust you that much. I’ll go get some wine.” I turned to take off for the kitchen, planning just a moment’s breather to get everything straight, when he suddenly stopped me.
“Wait, Jess, don’t move,” he called out. He didn’t raise his voice, but his words halted me in my tracks like a command. Approaching me from behind, he stood very close, just as I’d imagined him so many times in my daydreams. When I felt his hand at my neck, a finger tracing its way down my back, I began to tremble. He leaned down and kissed my shoulder with gentle lips, then took my hands in his and held them tightly behind me.
“I shouldn’t be doing this,” raced through my head trying to stop me. But the wicked other half of me refused to make Kurt stop. All that body heat and fire I’d been feeling all these days was suspended in his simple touch, waiting to be released.
The way he held my hands, I felt trapped, but I didn’t struggle to get free. He kissed my neck until he reached the top of my shirt, then he pulled it down so his lips could continue down my shoulder. Dropping my hands, he turned me around, letting his eyes hold me captive instead. I waited as he carefully unbuttoned my shirt, and pushed it away with his fingertips, so it fell softly to the floor. The lace teddy underneath was transparent enough for him to see my breasts. Eyeing them for some moments, I shivered under his attentive gaze, wondering what he thought of what he saw. When he bent down to kiss them and his hands began to fondle the two soft cushions of flesh, I relaxed, as if I’d somehow passed a test.
“You like it rough don’t you?” he asked me. As gentle as he was being, it seemed like a curious question, but he was obviously reading something in me he knew was there.
“Do I telegraph myself that well?” I asked, amazed by his insight.
“I know, I’m only attracted to women that like it nasty,” he said. There was a smirk on his lips as he said the word “nasty.” It made me jolt to think of what he might mean.
Pulling the teddy away altogether, he gazed down at my naked breasts for another breathtaking inspection. I’d never known a man who was so filled with obvious admiration for my body. Was he just this way with me, or was he like this with all his women? It was surprising that he was so attracted to me, when he could easily bed most any woman under forty in Shelter Bay. What makes me so special? I was wondering to myself. But the wondering quickly ceased when my sexual desire rose too high to bother thinking anymore.
He seized my nipples and squeezed them lightly, then leaned in to kiss first one, then the other. His teeth nibbled the skin as if he might bite it, but he backed away and led me to my couch where he motioned me to sit.
“Put your hands behind you,” he purred to me softly. I took the instruction as another command.
It was hard to understand his power over me but it was nothing I could deny. Such control, and so very gentle. I’m sure it was his dark eyes, the way they had me bewitched, as if he’d cast a spell around me—body and soul.
Kneeling in front of me, he parted my legs wide, though not so he could focus on my spread pussy, now so available for his inspection. Instead, he was diving for my breasts again. Cupping them in his hands, he feasted on them with his mouth, while I waited in this enforced repose, my hands behind me as though I was bound. He wanted nothing to obstruct his access to me. Acutely aware of his every touch, the breath from his lips, the skin to skin contact, every sensation seemed magnified because I couldn’t respond back to him.
My only reply to his artful play was some silly gibberish that escaped my lips, and a fountain of ohs and ahhhhs as I shuddered with each breath. He answered back, pursuing me with a fervor I’d never experienced from any man. My whole body seemed more connected to itself than ever before. What he did to my breasts and nipples, I felt between my legs and all the way down my thighs to my toes.
Taking each of my hands in one of his, he laid me against the couch and drew my wrists over my head where they were as bound as they would have been if he’d tied them with rope. I felt his fingers under my skirt, the touch of them so tender and yet able to spark such lightening shocks of desire I could feel my hips moving to meet him. My skirt quickly fluttered like a sail to the floor. And with my thighs parted wide, he lifted the heart of my sex to his mouth driving me to a quick sharp edge. I was lost somewhere in the sensations, thinking of nothing but how my body felt behind my closed eyes. When I opened them again, Kurt was hovering over me, his expression at once savage and sweet. The feel of his erection pressing against the opening of my cunt was as savage and sweet as the look in his eyes. He moved inside without effort, my body welcoming him home as he thrust deep.
Silently, I screamed to touch him, to run my hands along his muscled chest, to feel the firmness of his thighs with my fingertips. But when I pulled them down to hold him close, he whispered quietly a stern, “No,”, and I was obliged to obey.
I’d never known anything to be quite so astonishing, forced to feel every feeling and experience every sensation he brought out in me without giving one thing back but the look of desire on my face. This hard driving screw took me quickly toward a climax, my body suddenly jerking orgasmically as a wave of exacting jolts crashed through me. Massaging my interiors with his pulsing erection, the spasms began with that first wild wave and then continued on, swimming in endless blissful rhythms I thought would never end.
I saw how Kurt’s face changed from fierce and savage to tenderly sweet the instant that I climaxed, and then how it contorted into a scowl as he tensed. With his finale going off inside me, the sound of his guttural groan vibrated through my body setting off another vibrant burst of sexual joy.
In the breathless exhaustion that comes at the end, Kurt collapsed against me and we lay together side by side. A tight fit on my small couch, it meant he had his arms around me holding me close. His hands were in my hair and his tongue nibbled at my neck so I almost laughed with the ticklish shivers.
“Can I lower my arms now?” I whispered.
He snickered and pulled them down himself for a moment massaging away the aching soreness.
“You were hoping for this, weren’t you?” he said looking at me with a smug grin on his face.
I grinned back. “You think I’d tell you?” I replied with a snicker of my own.
“I think you should,” he said.
“Why’s that?”
“We just made love, shouldn’t we share secrets?”
“Oh, but it wasn’t a serious fuck, you said so,” I reminded him. “Just a lark, I think those were your very words?”
“And you believe me?” he said.
I sighed happily, even though this relationship confused me. “I don’t know what to believe,” I answered truthfully.
“Well, Jessie, I’m not the cad you think I am,” he said, pulling up. He was staring at me again with those dark-fired eyes looking down at me earnestly.
“Still, I hardly know you.”
“Ah, but you will,” he assured me.
He pulled away, and then off the couch altogether. Standing over me as he zipped his pants he looked down at the naked body he’d just screwed.
“And you’re leaving so soon?” I wondered, scared that this was exactly what he was going to do.
“No,” he said. “But I’ll have that glass of wine, that is if I’m staying the night?”
“Of course you’re spending the night.” I was hardly going to let him get away so soon. Popping up from the sofa, I pushed him back down. “Just let me change, and I’ll get the wine,” I told him happily as I tripped off to the bedroom to find my robe.
We talked more than I expected we would, while we finished off a bottle of wine. I still couldn’t get over his eyes, and the smile; though I felt less intimidated by them now.
“You going to be a librarian all your life?” he asked me, as he sipped his wine. I was thinking he looked better holding a beer can than my crystal goblet.
“I like the books,” I answered back.
“You like the books,” he repeated, nodding his head as if he was trying to consider what that meant.
“I like the smell of them, the feel of them in my hands. You could even call it erotic,” I suggested.
“You get off on books?” he said with a little wonder in his voice.
“What they say is important too,” I added. “But lest you think I’m too much of a bore, I do other things.”
“Like what?”
“Paint.”
He took a quick perusal of the room, noting my oil paintings hanging on the walls.
“Your style is intriguing. I like black and white.” Most of my paintings look like black and white photographs.
“You should have them hanging in a gallery.”
“I have at times, the one here in Shelter Bay. But I’m a creature of the moment. For a while I paint, and then I move on to other things. These, I kind of got attached to. They’re not for sale.”
“Are you painting anything else now?”
“Not now, I’m doing jewelry. Maybe you could show some of it in your shop?”
“I could. If I like it,” he considered.
I dangled the feather and stone earring still in my left ear, so he would notice. He looked at it, for a moment intrigued, though I was disappointed when he didn’t comment. “So what else do you do with yourself?” he asked.
“I write stories and poems, and when I feel particularly inspired, I play the piano.”
“All that talent, and you shuffle books,” he commented dryly.
“Don’t judge me, Kurt. All this is what makes me interesting,” I said, a little flippant twist in my voice. “But you could tell me one thing?”
“What’s that?”
“Why me? Seven years older than you, and not so cute anymore. Why would you choose me to date?”
He shook his head. “That’s a bad self assessment yourself, Jessie,” he admonished me playfully, though I believed he was being totally sincere. “I don’t really know why I asked you out, except that I like your dimple, and your hair, and the way you move, and . . . “ he considered for a moment, “the way you make love. I just had a feeling.”
“I’ve never made love like that.”
“Ah, but you did with me, and you liked it.” His eyes were gleaming as they had before. I was glad I was finally getting used to them. I knew I liked Kurt, and I knew he liked me for whatever reasons. It seemed a good enough excuse for him to spend the night, when I really didn’t need any at all. I’d thrown out all my rules for the moment and accepted simple lust as enough.
We were both naked under the sheets within the hour. He kept telling me things to do, and I kept responding. I figured I could stay in bed with him forever, and that wasn’t because I was sex-starved. Todd had kept me satisfied until he left, and I kept myself happy masturbating thereafter. But this was different.
The fact was, it was better sex than I’d ever had before. Kurt had few restraints. I suppose he was testing me, though the things he was doing to my body, no matter what they were, found a sexual Jess no man had ever discovered. He pinched my nipples, sometimes so hard I felt a bite of pain so sharp, I was tempted to protest. But he hushed my objections with his fingers to my mouth as though he was hushing a child. When his hand moved down my belly, his fingers between my labia, tender-sweet spasms would begin that nearly put me in tears. I begged him to continue, knowing another orgasm was just seconds away, but he stopped, looking at me with a devious grin. He had much more planned.
With a hand on my ass, he squeezed my uninitiated rear with a grip hard enough to hurt, though it wasn’t a pain I couldn’t suffer. And when released his grip and slapped me hard, such warmth made me plead for more, with a “yes, Kurt, yes.” With my ass alive, as though a whole new part of me had opened for him, he made a first trek between the cleft of my rear. Probing my anus with his finger, I shuddered nervously.
“Relax, Jess,” he cooed sweetly. Turning me to my stomach, he raised my behind and he went down between the cleft with his tongue, bathing both sensitive places until he finally centered on the tight puckering hole.
“Oh, my,” the exclamation was hardly enough to communicate the darker desires he raised in me. With his tongue on my anus and his fingers probing my cunt, a thumb to my clit, the orgasm shook me hard. He knew me much too well, too soon. This was too intimate for a first date and I was too much like an eager virgin in his hands. I might have backed away from him for taking these sexual liberties with my mind and body, but I was lost to him, his to control. I might have briefly worried over his motives, but the physical heaven was so rich, I had to put my fears away and just enjoy him as he was.
I liked the way he was sure of himself about everything—and even the way he knew me so well. At first, I thought his taking control of me was sweet, and even a little silly. But there was darker level to it that aroused me in darker places. By the time our first night had ended, I found my willingness to comply with his wishes was almost frightening. He did so little to gain my cooperation. But it was seductive and out of control, and though I wasn’t used to it, I knew I’d surrender again.
In the morning, I cooked breakfast in my skimpy robe while Kurt teased me every chance he got, running his hand up the bottom of the robe, and down the front. We played for a while, then ate scrambled eggs and toast. And when it was time for him to leave, I watched him disappear down the street. Seeing his sexy body swagger away, I was instantly wracked by fear that he wouldn’t be wanting me again, even as I wondered why I was wanting him.
***
Two days later, Kurt stopped by the library.
“How come you haven’t come by the shop?” he asked me, as he reached out and stroked my face.
I was sitting primly on my stool, in a skirt that was hiked high on my thighs so the top of my pantyhose showed. My sweater dipped low in front, for a classically wanton look that Kurt didn’t miss. He stared straight at my chest before he looked me in the eye.
“You deliberately avoiding me?” he asked.
“No,” I said, though I knew in forty eight hours, I had clamped tight a surge of desire that threatened to make me into a ridiculous older woman, flaunting herself without shame at a younger man. I couldn’t help that appearances mattered to me. I told myself hourly that I needed to know him better, he was too young, and definitely in a category of men that should be off-limits to a mature, though sexually liberated, librarian.
What amazed me most about him was his assumptive manner. It was scary, the way he didn’t hesitant at all going into a relationship. I wasn’t sure I was ready for it, but I didn’t want to stop him either.
Leaning on top of my desk, he took my chin in his hand. “Stop by tonight, on the way home, and don’t you forget.” He looked very serious, no smile, just those eyes boring into me, so I wouldn’t forget.
With that, he took off, and I was suddenly feeling giddy.
A few hours later, I was intently studying a weaving that hung on the wall of Kurt’s shop, when he came up from behind and grabbed me by the waist.
“Ah!” I jumped and let out a scream.
“Nervous are we?” we asked.
“We’ve covered this before,” I reminded him. “You make me nervous.”
“Keeps you on your toes,” he said.
I was still facing the wall as his arms went around me and his mouth descended to my neck.
“What if someone sees?” I queried him.
“It’s my shop, I’ll do what I want,” he said.
I was petrified, though something made me relax back against him. His body was warm, while mine felt cool from the anxiety. He fondled me for a while, with his hands making their way inside my sweater where he squeezed my breasts firmly. I suspected he wanted to make love, but then he stopped.
“Come here,” he said. He grabbed me by the hand, leading me out the back door. I followed him through the landscaped brick patio, to a small stone shed. I expected this building was nothing
but a workshop, but on going inside, I was surprised to find that this was his home. The small place was just one room, but that room was remarkable.
“This side was destroyed when I bought the place,” he told me. “Nothing but daylight streaming in. But the stone back here was still sound.” The side that we entered was his kitchen, dining room and living room, abbreviated of course, with just the bare bones of furniture, enough for a bachelor I suppose. The far end of the room was a large extended porch, finished with fresh light-colored wood, worked in the most amazing design on the ceiling. There were windows on all three sides, looking out to a woods.
“I just finished it, what do you think?” He actually seemed anxious to hear my answer.
“You did all this?” I asked. “It’s beautiful!”
He escorted me past the kitchen and the dining table, to the glass surrounded addition. There was room for only a single chair and a small table on one side. His bed was on the other side, neatly made with a patchwork quilt tucked around it in military precision.
“And this is why I wanted you here,” he said with a sudden wildness about him that propelled both of us on to the waiting bed. He tackled me eagerly, his hands going inside my skirt, immediately pulling it down. Once off, he stripped me of my sweater, my bra and panties followed. While staring down at my naked body, he stripped off his own clothes. The firm, lean muscled body descended to mine with his stiff dick ready, quickly poised to strike at my cunt. He teased me with it, and I teased back, then I suddenly pulled up taking the bobbing stalk in my hand. My lips went around the head, my tongue circling. I toyed with him, looking up into his face with a silly grin on my lips. He looked me nastily and then grabbed my hair, pushing his cock deeper into my mouth. After all, I’d asked for it. I swallowed on him, sucked hard with my lips, then worked him in an out of my mouth, feasting on the delicious taste. I might have controlled that instant, but that was all. When he abruptly pulled out of my mouth, he shoved me back against the bed, and was inside my cunt in seconds, carrying me around the bed in strong arms. First on top of me, then side by side, finally we landed with me on top. He held my hips and thrust deep as we pulled in and out at odds.
Body Wisdom & Uncompromising Portraits Page 2
