“So, what are you going to do when you get back?” Gemma asked Michael, the now homeless and unemployed one.
“Well, Nathan and I actually secured an obscene loan about a month ago, thanks to our parents collateral and stable credit history, and purchased a place back then – it is due to settle any day now and then I can move in and we can do it all over again.”
“That must have been a relief then when this one sold so quickly..?” Gemma commented.
“Yes it was... We are doing a whole lot of juggling with a whole lot of money at the moment, but we are doing what we both want to do and so far... it has been successful,” Michael explained to her. “You know what the best thing about the last project was, though..? Meeting you... It frightens me to think that we might not have met if Nathan and I hadn’t bought that place.” Gemma looked at him and her eyes watered.
The waitress returned and placed a plate in the middle of the table with a small selection of tasty entrées, before clearing away their soup bowls.
“Yes, it was kind of weird how we met, wasn’t it..?” Gemma proposed.
“Yes! You having the audacity to show up at my home with that loser...”
“What?” Gemma giggled, “He was my boyfriend and I didn’t know you...” she defended, picking up a slice of prawn toast and nibbling on it.
“You flaunted yourself and flirted with him in front of me and then you came into my room and expected that it would be okay to just sleep with me...”
“I was drunk! And besides, it was okay! You didn’t say no...”
“Well, I’m only human, Gemma...”
Gemma laughed, “You’re an idiot... What, do you want me to do? Apologise?”
“Yes, apologise for not dumping that loser earlier in the night!” Michael insisted.
“You are shameless...” Gemma told him.
“I’m shameless..? The way I remember it, you were the shame...”
“Shhh!” Gemma suddenly interjected, scolding him for saying such a thing in an almost public area, and Michael chuckled, before dunking his spring roll in soy sauce and taking a bite.
“Michael?” Gemma called in a voice not much louder than a whisper.
Michael looked at her, “Yes?”
“What did you think when I came in your room?” Gemma asked.
Michael smiled and then his caterpillars did their little dance, before he admitted, “Well, firstly I will say that I wasn’t thinking that well at the time, but... I felt thrilled, because I had seen you earlier and...”
“We connected...”
Michael beamed, “Yes, we connected... I knew you and loser had split and thought you might have wanted some affection – you know... a cuddle and a chat.”
“You didn’t think I wanted sex?”
“Well, I was hoping...” Michael confessed, grinning! “But I didn’t expect to be that lucky – I mean how often does a complete stunner walk into your room and jump you?”
“Michael!” Gemma reproached him and Michael snickered. Then she asked him quietly and seriously, “Did you think I was bad?”
Just then the waitress returned and placed two dishes on the table, one containing honey chicken, and the other, salt and pepper calamari; before collecting the entree plates. She disappeared for a minute and then returned with two more dishes – barbeque pork and beef with ginger and shallots. Michael began to place food on his and Gemma’s plates, but stopped when she addressed him again.
“Michael, did you think I was bad?” Gemma’s concern was evident on her face, so Michael just smiled pleasantly.
“No...” he shook his head smiling, “I was surprised because you had seemed kind of timid earlier on. But then I thought you were just angry and wanted revenge; and we were both a little intoxicated... and you were gorgeous, and I just didn’t feel inclined to argue. I didn’t think you were bad...” Michael paused, “I was shocked though, when I realised it was your first time... You had been so aggressive... and I wasn’t expecting it, and then I freaked out a bit and started wondering just how drunk you were and what I’d done... Whether you would regret it?”
“Sorry...” Gemma expressed.
“Don’t be sorry... Then you didn’t seem to want to stop, and you looked and felt so incredible...” Michael swallowed and paused as he recalled his first wonderful night with Gemma, “Don’t be sorry... God, don’t ever be sorry... Besides, it worked out beautifully... don’t you think?”
“Yes,” Gemma smiled from within – her one worded response seeming completely inadequate.
They ate in silence for a while, each engrossed in fond memories and thoughts of the other, and then Gemma asked, “So, is there a job for me at the new house?”
Michael looked up and grinned before answering, “A huge job, if you want it?”
“Really? Excellent! What’s it like?”
Michael went on to describe the features and shortcomings of the new house. There was a spa attached to the swimming pool which he was looking forward to using after work. The yard was quite massive – a lot of old established trees but not much else. The house was huge – five bedrooms, an office and three bathrooms...
After their dessert of deep fried ice-cream, they left and headed back to the motel where they sat on the balcony and talked a while longer, Gemma sitting on Michael’s lap and cuddling into him, as they looked out over the ocean.
“So what number is this date, Michael?”
“Well, we should go back and do number three... But it seems such a shame to waste this fantastic place and that great big bed...”
“Yes it does, doesn’t it..?”
Michael cleared his throat, and agreed, “Yes, it does?”
“So what were you thinking?” Gemma inquired.
“I’m thinking we should go and have a closer look at that big bed...” Michael answered her, lifting her hand and cuing her to stand up. He grasped her hand as he stood up himself and then walked her into the bedroom, switching the lights off on the way, leaving only the landscaping lights outside down below in the garden and pool area, and the radiance of the crescent moon to softly illuminate the room. The ocean breeze cooled their bodies as they needed and desired each other for hours, Gemma slowly being reduced to a sweaty and unkempt, raw form of herself, and Michael melding more thoroughly with this beautiful form than any other he had encountered. They were nature... they were honest!
In the morning it was decided that the previous night had definitely been date number eleven, which then left them with a dilemma... How do they go backwards from there? Especially now that Gemma had been introduced to this sexual being that had been smouldering inside of her... Her passion had been ignited, and Michael was like oxygen, fuelling it.
Gemma craved his affection and began to kiss Michael hotly, climbing over and instinctively rubbing her body against his. He kissed her back, wrapping his fingers through her hair and enjoying her feminine form pressed against his. Suddenly he felt her warm, slippery mound push against his and he groaned and struggled as he barely managed to pull his face back away, “Gemma, what are you doing?”
“I want another date?”
“Well, you can’t have one...”
“Why not?” Gemma asked as she reached down and started stroking his hardening phallus with her hungry hand.
“Because I promised I would do the right thing by you...”
“Oh, Michael, we could have an eleven and a half...” Gemma suggested.
Michael groaned at the determined touch of her hand and her body’s seductive contortions as she squirmed and simulated making love with him and his voice became deep and husky, “It’s not a proper date if we just stay in bed...”
“You classed watching DVD’s as a date,” Gemma argued as she lifted up her chest and slumped it down into Michael’s face, smothering him in the ecstasy of the breasts she knew he hungered for.
“Ohhhhh... Gemma, but we watched a movie...” Michael pointed out to which Gemma reached over to the bedsid
e table, grabbed the remote and switched on the TV, which just happened to already be on a movie channel. “Gemma, I promised.” She kissed him and squirmed all over his body, pressing her aching sex against him, sighing as she did so. “I can’t resist this, Gemma...”
“Good. Don’t!” she told him and with that Michael grabbed a handful of hair with one hand and a handful of bottom with the other, and he tossed her off over his side, flipping her as he did so, and then climbed on top of her and pinned her down with his weight.
All of a sudden Michael froze and Gemma saw him staring at his hand, a look of deep concern on his face. She felt him gently pull her hair and then stare into her eyes, his look of fright worrying her. “What?” she asked him.
“Gemma... Gem,” Michael wasn’t sure how to put it.
“What? Michael, what is it?” Gemma insisted.
Michael slowly lifted his hand and Gemma could see the stark blonde tufts. A panicked sound of sheer terror erupted from her and she exclaimed suddenly, “What? What is that? Oh my god...” she shouted as she tugged at her own hair, removing more tufts and then suddenly sitting bolt upright, pushing Michael to the side in the process. “Oh my god,” she said as she looked at the bed sheets and observed the numerous tufts lying around, especially on her pillow. “Oh my god,” she exclaimed again before bursting into sobs of tears.
Michael jumped up and wrapped his arms around her, “It’s okay, Gemma, it’s okay.”
“No it’s not..!” she expressed between sobs.
“It will be okay...” Michael assured her, pained by her despair. He held her and rocked her.
“My hair is falling out...” she stated, and Michael just kept rocking her. “I have to go and look,” she said, gently emerging from his arms so she could walk over to the mirror and see the extent of the damage. She turned the vanity light on and prodded and pulled the thinning blondeness on her head, before bursting into tears. Michael, who had followed her, captured her in his arms and held her. He tried to caress her head into his chest but she panicked. “No, don’t touch it...” Instead Michael cuddled her in by her shoulders.
“What am I going to do? I’ll be ugly...” she said after slightly calming down.
Michael held her at arm’s length and looked at her, “I don’t think that is possible..,” then he collected her back into his comforting arms.
“Michael, what am I going to do?” she pleaded.
“Well, it’s hair... I’m sure it will grow back. How about we take you to a hairdresser’s today and see what they say?”
“Yes, okay...” Gemma said, “Can we go now?”
Michael smiled, “Yes, of course.”
Gemma showered, being careful not to wet or even touch her diminishing hair, and then she got dressed, applied a light make-up to hide the fact that she had been crying, and then strategically wrapped a pink scarf around her head, knotting it to the side.
“Gemma, that actually looks really good – nobody would know...” Michael reassured her.
“Thank you.”
The hairdresser gave Gemma her educated diagnosis - it wasn’t good... She could put a treatment through it to try and save it a bit, which she did, but basically it was chemically cooked and was in the process of disintegrating. She trimmed a couple of inches off the ends, but was reluctant to go any shorter in case the bald patches became more noticeable, although, she did recommend Gemma get a trim every couple of weeks to keep it tidy and at the one length. Basically, Gemma would just have to wait for the new hair to grow through.
“We can sell you a wig...” the stylist suggested.
“No, that’s okay... I might just get a few more scarves.” And that’s what they did!
Instead of going straight back to the resort, Gemma bravely allowed Michael to take her to a marine park where they got to walk through tunnels under the water and view the fish and other sea creatures as they swam all around them.
“That was really cool, don’t you think?” Michael claimed and Gemma couldn’t have agreed more. The next stop was an ice-cream parlour where they got triple scoops and walked across to the beach to eat them. By the time Gemma was finished she was happy again, and so was Michael.
That night they ate fish and chips at a cafe and then went fishing from a jetty – Michael’s catch exciting him beyond what Gemma would deem sane, and she laughed at his joviality. “I suppose I should put it back – we’ve already had dinner...”
“I could cook it for you for supper if you like?” Gemma offered.
“No... Well? No, it’s alright. Well, alright! Is that okay?”
“Of course it is...” Gemma replied with a smile.
“Do you want some?” Michael had asked her when she presented him the whole oven baked fish on a plate.
“No, I’m just going to have some chocolate!” she confessed and Michael grinned at her. “Michael..? I’m sorry about all that stuff this morning and ruining the holiday...”
“Don’t be silly... You didn’t ruin anything. Actually, I think you handled it pretty well,” Michael had to restrain himself from chuckling. “Gemma, when I think back about this holiday, your hair dilemma won’t be the first memory that comes to mind...” he said as he smiled, and Gemma blushed and grinned.
When they went to bed that night, Michael laid down some rules about what was not allowed to happen... “I promised myself!” he declared.
Gemma looked into his eyes as she leant in to kiss him, holding his gaze and trembling as their souls showed themselves.
“What are we allowed to do?” she inquired as she started nibbling on his neck.
“Well, we have a number three, a number seven and a number nine left...” Michael stated and Gemma took his hand and guided it to her naked swelling breast. Michael moaned and grasped it in its fullness, bringing it to his body and squashing its form against his chest. “Okay, that’s number three out of the question. We’ve got seven and nine as options...” he stated before pulling her head to his and kissing her deeply, as he rolled over on top of her.
“What is number seven again?” Gemma asked while Michael nibbled her jaw and neck.
“You remember that day in the rainforest?” he asked before plunging face first on to one of her breasts, taking the hard nipple into his mouth and softly biting it.
“Mmm, yes...” Gemma answered, submerged in her wonderful memory of her first orgasm with Michael, made even hotter by his warm mouth on her breast. She moaned in her desire for him.
“Well, number seven would be like that without the climax...”
“Michael..!” Gemma complained and Michael laughed at her, “Does number nine have a climax?” Gemma tilted her hips up, trying to press herself against his hard manhood.
“Yes, but there is no penetration...” Michael said before descending on her mouth and kissing her, massaging her tongue seductively with his own.
Gemma descended through a couple of levels of consciousness, immersed in the kiss, her nipple stimulated beyond belief between his thumb and forefinger and her button throbbing. “Michael..?” she sighed, “No penetration..? Are you sure?”
Michael smiled, “Yes, I’m sure. Let’s do this right...”
“Fine!” Gemma exclaimed as she pushed him off her, rolled him over and straddled him. She passionately began to grind her hips against his stiffness.
“Gemma...” he warned, but she would not listen, instead taking his phallus tightly in her hand and stroking it. She could feel his stomach tighten, “Oh, god, Gemma...” She lifted herself, never ceasing the assault on his sword, leant in and kissed him. He massaged her breasts against his chest and then Gemma lowered her head to his chest, nuzzling her soft face in his sparse but wiry chest hair making them both moan. The she released his penis and moved down to press her soft belly against it, sensually rubbing him with it and keeping him stimulated.
“Michael?” she called softly as he caressed her head against his chest and occasionally pushed his hips into her soft belly.
<
br /> “Yes?” he answered. Gemma moved her head down and began kissing his belly, her breasts sliding over his penis and Michael thought his head was going to explode.
Gemma loved the way he felt – his tight muscles tensing under her tender kisses. His hardness pushing against her – needing her touch... She reached down and took it in her hand, stroking it... pleasuring him. “Is it penetration if I put it in my mouth?” she asked him as she moved her head south and began placing delicate licks and kisses on the smooth, shiny top.
Michael started to tremble under her attention, “Oh my god!”
“Well is it?” Gemma asked again.
Michael froze so he could try and think for a moment, before answering her like a judge, “I’m going to allow that...” - she didn’t hesitate to slide her mouth down over his member.
Gemma and Michael made the most of their ninth date, pleasuring each other in ways that weren’t technically penetrative, but were technically amazing, coming and releasing each other from the pent up desires they seem to encumber when in each other’s presence.
The next morning they awoke early and had breakfast and embarked on one last walk along the beach before returning to pack up their belongings... Strategically, a half hour before they were due to vacate, Michael instigated the seventh date... Touching, but not being allowed to come – whose bright idea was that? Giving himself a time limit conveniently took the onus off him when it came time to stop. He had learnt the previous morning that although he thought his self-control was good, when it came to Gemma and her seductive snake-like cuddling, he simply lost the will to stop on his own.
“You know, Michael, the number seven date really sucks,” Gemma complained as she walked out of the room carrying her travel bag and pouting.
“I agree,” said Michael as he walked out behind her, and then he chuckled. “But at least number seven is done now...”
A Dozen Dates Page 15
