“Oh, Mr. Laurence,” I murmur, hearing the greed in my own voice. He’s everything I ever wanted in this, too—every inch a man.
Savoring his heat and hardness, I explore his length, loving the way he hisses between his teeth as I manipulate him.
“Feels good, Annie,…Oh, so good…Maybe too good…” He catches me by the wrist, holding me firmly, but not cruelly, “I need to be inside you, love, or I’m going to shoot my load all over your belly.”
A deep, deep tremor ripples through my pussy. My clit throbs. I can’t believe how exciting it is to hear my ex-teacher, always the refined and perfect gentleman, talking so dirty and so raunchy. If he does it much more, I swear I’ll come without him touching me between my legs at all.
“I guess that was a condom I heard you getting out of your bedside drawer?” I ask.
“Yes, it was. It is.…” I hear the rustle of the packet as he tweaks it open. “Would you believe that I bought them last week because I knew I might be seeing you today?”
Good God…
“But, surely there’ve been other women? I mean, a handsome guy like you surely…?” I pause, feeling a little bit weird. Not sure what to admit to. “I…well…I didn’t ‘wait’ for you, Nick…. I’ve had a few boyfriends. Not many. Three or four.” Actually, three. All nice, decent guys, each with one big fault—the fact that they weren’t the man lying beside me now. “And you were seeing Miss Lindsay. I was hoping that would work out for you. She was nice.”
Lies, lies, lies. I wanted to scratch the woman’s eyes out, even though I knew that was stupid and juvenile of me because, apart from Nick, she was one of my favorites on the staff. But I couldn’t date or fuck my teacher, and he was entitled to a life.
I sense Nick’s pause. Is he thinking along the lines I am. Wondering about what might have been, wondering what to admit to?
“She was nice. She still is. But just as a friend though. She’s married to an engineer now with a couple of kids.” Is he still holding the condom, I wonder. Would he let me roll it on him? I want to be the focus of his attention; the past is past now. We’re here and together. “There’ve been one or two others, nothing serious. Nobody recent…”
“Good!” I blurt out, which makes him laugh. “Now are we going to do this, or what?” While he’s still absorbing my blatant forwardness, I fish around, find his hand, and the condom, and take it from him.
It’s quite a task, sheathing a man in a rubber when you’re blindfold and shaking with excitement, but I manage it. With a little help. Between us we smooth on the contraceptive, our fingers bumping against each other occasionally. But it’s fun, and we kiss and chuckle a bit in the process.
When he’s ready, I expect him to get between my thighs straight away, but he goes for another deep kiss that leaves me breathless. Especially as he starts to stroke my clit in a circular rhythm at the same time. Even though my arousal gathers and surges, there’s a part of me that’s stunned, awed, almost moved to tears. He cares so much about my pleasure. And it must be at the expense of his own, because he’s so hard, pressing against my thigh, that it must be hurting him.
Of course, in my dreams my darling Mr. Laurence has always been the king of magnificent foreplay, but I never expected those dreams to be quite so true.
I’m moving again, stirred to madness by his subtle figures of fondling. My pussy starts to flutter in the beginnings of orgasm, and I gasp and groan into his kissing mouth.
“Oh, please,” I beg when he lifts his lips from mine.
He doesn’t speak, but starts to move. A little awkwardly at first, as he lifts himself and levers his body between my thighs, but somehow when horizontal, he’s not as subject to his injury as he is when standing or walking. He’s almost graceful as he positions the rubber-clad tip of his cock against my entrance, then slowly, but in a smooth thrust, pushes inside me.
Tears fill my eyes. At last! At last!
And I have to see him. With a wild tug, I pull off the silk scarf blindfold and look up into his dear face, as he hovers above me, yet in me.
Blinking, I recognize the same shimmer in his beautiful eyes as is in mine. He feels it, too, above and beyond the sheer physical sensations. He feels the momentousness of this first joining. As he blinks, too, I know, in my heart, my gut, my pussy and my soul, that this is all true and real after years of waiting and wondering.
Suddenly, we’re laughing again, the feel of it rippling deliciously through our linked bodies, even as we acknowledge our own absurdity.
“We’re a right pair, aren’t we?” he says softly, brushing the hair from my face, then kissing my brow, “We finally get to fuck each other and we almost start blubbering like a pair of crybabies. Who’d have thought it?”
“I know…We’re idiots, aren’t we?” I stroke his back, so smooth and warm and more powerfully built than I’d anticipated. Relishing the touch of his skin, I adjust my hips, rocking against him to allow him deeper penetration. He responds in kind, with another thrust that jostles my clitoris and makes me whimper as my pussy grabs at him.
Then we’re kissing again as he fucks me, and despite my best efforts to concentrate on his pleasure now, I start to come.
My body clenches, rippling around him in exquisite waves, but for the first time, I don’t zone out, my mind wiped of thought by the orgasm. Instead, every sensation is pure and clear and crystalline. I’m aware of everything about the man who’s moving over me and inside me, and even though the sounds I’m uttering are unbridled and raw and not really comprehensible, in my mind I’m speaking his name, acknowledging and celebrating that it’s him, the man I’ve longed for, the man I love.
As the power of the climax ebbs at last, I settle onto a delightful glowing plateau, reveling in Nick’s body and the way he moves it and rocks it against mine. The muscles of his back and thighs and buttocks work and flex, and from the noises of appreciation he makes, I can tell that he’s untroubled by his injury or pain. Or a least, the pleasures of fucking are blanking out any discomfort he might be feeling. He’s excitingly vocal, growling and praising me and talking sublimely dirty. Which only makes my pussy surge again, hearing “Teacher” say such things…
Considering how long we’ve waited for this, and how long Nick’s denied himself this evening so he can service me, his powers of endurance are spectacular. But eventually, he has to succumb, and plunge for the finish. His hips hammer hard, he shouts in triumph and finally he’s over, taking me to a final climax as he comes.
I hug him, grabbing at his back, his bottom, his flanks. I know I’ve probably dug in my nails, but I don’t care and I don’t think he does, either. He clasps me to him, his chest heaving and his heart pounding where he presses against me, while my body ripples around him in one last sweet climax.
A while later, we seem to surface. We’re lying alongside each other, and our bodies are cooling as the sweat dries upon our skin. When I shudder, although not exactly from the cold, Nick comes up on his elbow and looks at me, his eyes soft and happy.
“Cold?” Not waiting for my answer, he tugs at the duvet and manages to make enough slack to cover us. But just as he’s about to drape it across our bodies, I stay his hand, and sit up myself.
I know he didn’t want me to see his scars before, but now he just leans back and shrugs equably as I study his damaged leg.
Obviously, it’s a lot better now, but it must have been a mess. Livid red scars run down his thigh and over his knee and coil around his calf. And there are small circular ones, too, where pins must have pierced his flesh to hold plates and other metalwork in place.
“Does it hurt?” I touch my fingertips ever so gently to the side of his thigh, just above the knee. He doesn’t flinch. “I mean, um, did it hurt while we were making love?”
“Well, if it did, I was having far too much of a good time to notice.” He moves towards me and slides a hand behind my head, bringing our faces close. “And right now any twinges are pretty much lost in a general �
�I’m the king of the world’ feeling.”
He kisses me, and as he does so, with his warm tongue wriggling inside my mouth and teasing my tongue, he masterfully guides my hand up from his formerly mangled leg to his cock, which is newly rising.
“Mr. Laurence!” I protest, pulling away from him, and giving him a mock reproving look. “You’re incorrigible. I really think you ought to take things easy at your age.”
He opens his mouth to voice a lazy protest, but I stop him with fingers across his lips, then push him back down against the pillows. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch sight of a flash of burgundy and reach for the silk scarf. Not pausing to think about what I’m doing, I tie it loosely around his eyes, just as he did to me.
“Now then, just relax…. Try not to think…. I’ll take care of you.”
He smiles beneath the blindfold, then groans low as I reach for his penis and begin to stroke him.
Later, we talk and talk, and talk and talk. Over take-out pizza in his study, and afterwards in bed again, our minds catch up with our bodies, filling in the gaps from all the years. By the time Nick puts in an appearance to bid farewell to all the stragglers from the reunion, and we’ve fucked again, rested and fucked yet again, there isn’t much about the ten years since I left school that we haven’t covered.
“So?” he asks, settling back and pulling me against him.
“So?” I echo, snuggling against him.
I’ve got a room at the Greybridge Hotel nearby, but I don’t want to go there. I don’t want to go anywhere Nicholas Laurence isn’t.
“I don’t want to leave,” I say, looking at him, at his dear face so beautiful, beautiful.
“I know…. And I don’t want you to.”
The word ever hangs in the air between us. I can’t believe it, but it’s true, I already know that.
“What are we going to do? I live in London and you live here.”
He laughs softly, his hand moving over my arm, slowly and possessively. “It’s going to be a bit of a logistical problem, Annie, isn’t it?” He kisses my hair, and the swift contact of his lips is sensual but also calm, wise and thoughtful. A little bud of hope starts to blossom. “But we’re both clever, grown-up people. We’ll work something out, between us, somehow.”
And as I touch his chest, and feel the beat of his heart so steady, so deep and true, I believe this. I believe him, even though I don’t yet know how we’re going to manage it.
But anything’s possible when a love is no longer forbidden.
If you enjoyed this story, check out these other sensual reads from Portia Da Costa and Spice Briefs:
CHANCE OF A LIFETIME
November 2008
TWICE THE PLEASURE
A Risqué Reunions story, May 2009
SECOND TIME AROUND
A Risqué Reunions story, June 2009
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ISBN: 978-1-4268-3636-7
No Longer Forbidden
Copyright © 2009 by Portia Da Costa
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