Tempting Taylor. Joan Elizabeth Lloyd
Читать онлайн книгу.
forsythia and early azalea, and air filled with the sounds of calling songbirds, and it couldn’t have been planned better. He wanted to calm his delight. It just couldn’t continue to be this wonderful. Hell, relax and enjoy it, however it turns out, he told himself. So far Club Fantasy really was living up to its reputation.
And Aisha. Ah yes, Aisha. Her attitude conveyed the essence of his fantasy without being overdone. Her head wasn’t bowed, merely slightly lowered. Her hands moved gracefully, handing him tidbits from the platter, feeding him grapes. She refilled his glass often, with sure, easy movements.
They talked softly, with her asking him about the things that interested him, never injecting her views or opinions. Perfect, he thought again.
“I would like to see you now,” he said when he could wait no longer.
She rose easily from the blanket, no awkwardness in her movements. Her gold robe fastened down the front with several dozen golden buttons which she opened one by one. She seemed to be moving quickly, but the robe parted exquisitely slowly. When it was open all the way down the front he realized that beneath it she wore only a slender gold chain around her waist. As he gazed at her, he saw that there was a second thin chain attached to the center of the first one which then pulled backward until it disappeared between the lush lips of her shaved cunt. God, she was more perfect than he could have imagined. He felt like a fool, thinking perfect with every gesture, every new revelation, but there was no other word for all of this.
She allowed the fabric to slide from her shoulders until she was naked.
“Would you like me to undress you?” Although she did not use the word sir, the deference was there in every line of her body. Not too fast, he thought and when he hesitated, she continued, “Perhaps you would care for a massage. I have very talented hands and I would love to touch you.”
Massage? This wasn’t part of his fantasy as he’d explained it to the woman named Marcy but what a wonderful idea. “I think I’d like that. Can it be done out here?” Being out of doors had always been part of his dreams.
“Of course. First, let me make you more comfortable.”
She stood and guided him to a standing position. Her bracelets clinked together as she slowly unbuttoned his shirt, hands stroking his chest, fingers threading through his chest hair. As she moved around him he was surrounded by her exotic, spicy scent. Her nipples brushed his skin as if by accident. He was sure, however, that nothing this woman did was by accident.
She unfastened his belt and unzipped his slacks. He was hard and needy but he didn’t want this to end too quickly. She brushed her palm lightly over his tented shorts, then slowly lowered his slacks and urged him to step out of them and his loafers. She knelt at his feet and carefully removed his socks, holding each foot in her hand and rubbing the arch as he kept his balance by leaning one hand on her naked shoulder. Then she removed his briefs, pausing only a moment to look at his raging erection.
“We’re not nearly there yet,” she said softly as she led him to a hot tub almost invisible among leafy green plants at the back of the property. She guided him to a padded bench beside it. As his legs brushed it he discovered that it was heated to counter any chill in the air. She took several towels from a compartment beside the spa and spread one on the bench, stacking the rest on the sun-warmed flagstones surrounding the water. Then she asked him to lie on his stomach on the heated surface. It took a moment for him to adjust his position so that his hard-on was comfortable.
He felt heated oil being poured into a pool on the small of his back and then Aisha’s knowledgeable fingers went to work on his muscles. She spent long minutes on his shoulders, then slowly slid her oily fingers down one arm. More oil and his hand was slippery, allowing her to make love to each finger as if it were a cock. Yes, he thought with the small, coherent part of his brain, she was fucking his hand. It made his cock still harder, but somehow he was also relaxed. Eventually she moved to his other arm and repeated her ministrations with the fingers of his other hand.
It was amazing. He never would have imagined that, although his cock was rock hard beneath him, he would have the patience to let her work her magic on his body. Next time he pictured this scene as he masturbated in bed late at night he’d have new wrinkles to add to his long-honed fantasy.
His legs were next and he became aware that his toes were as sensitive as his fingers had been. When she dug her thumb into the arch of each foot it felt both relaxing and arousing. How that was he didn’t know, but his body did. She inserted one finger between two of his toes and it was as though she fucked him there. He had thought he’d be too ticklish to deal with what she was doing, but squirming or laughing were the furthest things from his mind.
Her clever fingers then moved to his buttocks, kneading each cheek, pulling them apart, rubbing her slick fingers through the crack between, playing with his nether hole. He had never tried anal sex but now he realized there were so many nerves in that part of his body that his cock twitched as she touched him. One finger penetrated slightly, then she stopped.
He quickly realized that she was asking a question with her movements and when he slowly shook his head no she wiped her hands. “As you wish,” she said softly.
She helped him over onto his back next and smiled as she ran an index finger slowly along the length of his raging hardness. “Mmm,” she purred. “This will be mine soon.” Then she spent a long time on his chest, playing with his nipples. Were men’s nipples as sensitive as a woman’s? He’d never thought about it, but his became erect as she lightly pinched and squeezed. She pressed her finger into his belly button and it was an additional intimacy. Finally she moved to his face and neck, moving to kneel behind his head to massage his scalp. As she worked, her breasts brushed against the sides of his head. Never had he been so relaxed and so aroused, both at the same time.
Finally she moved to his cock and balls, rubbing still more oil onto his sac, making him need to come, yet able to wait just a few minutes more. He realized that he was harder and hotter than he thought he’d ever been.
“How do you want me?” she asked softly. “My hands, my pussy?”
“I want it all,” he moaned, “but I’d like your mouth this time. Next time I will want your cunt, or maybe your magnificent tits.”
She wrapped the fingers of one hand around his thick staff while cupping his balls with the other. Her scent almost overwhelmed him as she leaned over until her swollen nipples brushed his thighs and took his stiff cock into her mouth, swirling her tongue over the tip, then sucking the length into the hot wet cavern. “Shit,” he hissed. “Too fast.”
“Do you want me to stop?”
“Hell, no,” he growled, knowing that stopping was out of the question now. “Do it.”
She scratched her nails lightly over his testicles while she fucked his cock with her tongue. He felt climax boil in his belly and then semen spurt from him, filling her mouth. She swallowed most of his come, but a few drops dribbled from her lips, falling onto his belly. His climax seemed to last forever. God, she was worth every penny he’d paid and more. He lay on the bench for several minutes, trying to catch his breath. If I die now, he thought as his pulse finally slowed, I die in ecstasy.
There was an outdoor shower at the side of the house and later, beneath the warm water, she used her hands and the valley between her breasts to again bring him to climax. Two violent, gut-wrenching climaxes in under an hour. Amazing.
Finally, weak-kneed and totally sated, he dressed and left, knowing that all he had to do was call up Club Fantasy to arrange to meet her again. And he would, soon.
Pam DePalma wandered to the blanket and poured herself another glass of wine. As she sipped she heard his car back down her driveway, then she pulled off her wig and ran her fingers through her short, dark curls. As soon as she could wash the makeup off her face more thoroughly, she’d remove the hated colored contact lenses so her hazel eyes could stop itching, then shower off the exotic scent and tanning cream she’d found to wear today. It would take a week or so for her skin to return to its light tone but it had been