“Not what?” I asked. He looked at me.
“Not emotionally damaged,” he said.
“Oh,” I said and nodded. We were silent again.
“You really spend an inordinate amount of time on the floor.”
It took me by surprise and I laughed. He smiled, came to me and helped me up. “And... Cassey is right. I don’t need to be saved.”
I have no idea what I was thinking. I probably wasn’t thinking. The next thing I knew, I had stepped forward and I kissed him. At first there was no response. Then, he kissed me back.
Then he pressed me against the door and kissed me deeply. I wrapped my arms around his neck and he put his hands on the door on either side of my head. His right leg moved gently and pressed between my legs. My heart skipped and I opened my legs slightly, giving him a clear access. After several long, lovely moments, he pulled out of the kiss. We stayed where we were, my back against the door, his hands bracketing my face, his face inches away from mine. His thigh nestled sweetly between my legs.
“Furthermore,” he said in a whisper, making the moment feel even more intimate, “I have no desire to be saved.” He gave my lips a quick peck and my mouth opened, wanting more. He was already walking away, down the hall. When he was gone, leaving me flustered, hot and very horny, it dawned on me that he truly wasn’t the one that needed saving.
***
Over the nest several weeks, work went well. My segments were getting great responses, my crew and I got along well and Cassey proved to be a valuable asset. Also, I had several brief but delightful encounters with Gabriel. One in particular left my knees weak and I replayed it in my mind a few times during hot baths after work.
I was in the editing room watching the final cut of a segment we had done on a local writer who had written two of his bestsellers in a popular coffee shop in town. I was alone, obsessing over details when I heard Gabriel say;
“You’re always working late. Don’t you have an assistant for this kind of thing?”
I didn’t turn around. I kept my back to him and my eyes on the screen.
“I like to handle the details myself,” I said. Then, his hands were on my hips. I placed my hands on the console in front of me and dropped my head forward. I felt his warm lips and the tip of his tongue on the nape of my neck. His hand slid down my thigh and brushed the back of my knee just below the hem of my skirt.
“Yes,” I breathed. His hand moved under my skirt and up my bare leg. He moved over my hip and down between my thighs.
“You’ve taken to wearing panties,” he whispered in my ear and I opened my stance slightly.
“I have to leave something to the imaginations of the camera crew,” I told him and he chuckled. I felt his strong fingers pull my panties aside and he skillfully found my clit. He described gentle, soft circles around it while he kissed my neck. It was like the moment in the changing room only this time, he was real. This time he was there and Cassey was not. She was out on a date with one of the writers. Nothing would interrupt this. I rocked my hips, moving in sympathy with his fingers. We started moving a little quicker. His touch became more intense. I moved backwards, hoping to force his finger inside me when...
“I’ll let you get back to work,” he said and his hand slipped from between my legs. My skirt fell and he was gone. I leaned on the console, trying to catch my breath. I was very wet and decidedly unsatisfied, wishing to God that Gabriel would save me.
“How are things going with Aaron?” I asked Cassey. She had gone on several dates with the writer and I needed to ease some of my frustration by living vicariously through her. “You guys do the deed yet?”
“Not fully. I did give him a hand job at the movies the other night.”
“How romantic,” I said and she covered her mouth and giggled. I laughed. I had really grown to love Cassey.
“I think tonight.”
“Tonight what?” I asked, leading her.
“Tonight I am going to... You know... let him have mes” she said and smiled.
“You go girl,” I said, “get your freak on.” She looked at me askance, scowling like I had just hit her with a fish.
“I have no idea what that means,” she said. “I was wondering if you’d go shopping with me at lunch.”
“Sure, what are we shopping for?”
“Well,” she said, “since it’s going to be a special night.... I want to buy a sexy bra and p-a-n-t-i-e-s.”
“Why do you do that?” I burst out. “Why do you always spell that word out? Just say it. Panties!”
“Ew, no, I can’t. It’s awful, I can’t stand that word.”
I laughed, I knew exactly what she meant. “I get it, I feel the same way about the word m-o-i-s-t.” I spelled it out.
“Moist? I don’t mind that word at all. That’s a good, descriptive word. Especially when it’s paired with the word cake. Moist cake.”
“Ew, gross, stop. It’s disgusting.” We were heading to the editing bay. She continued to taunt me with moist cake. I finally countered.
“All right,” I said. “How about moist panties?” We both shrieked and shook our arms and laughed hysterically. “Moist panties,” I said again.
“Is that the next segment we’ll be seeing from you?” Gabriel was standing in the hall. He had heard everything. “Cause, if it is, I don’t think it’s going to be very popular.” Cassey covered her mouth and giggled. I sent her ahead and told her I would catch up.
“What can I do for you, my handy man?’ I asked and he smiled.
“Well, you can get off work early and you can have dinner with me tonight.”
“Are you asking me on a date?” I asked, expecting him to dodge it, down play it, call it friends eating in the same place. The usual sort of thing guys do when they get nervous. But he surprised me.
“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m doing.”
“Well, I...” I stammered.
“Good. I will pick you up, in front of your office at 7. See you then.” And then, he was gone. I had a date and I was thrilled.
At lunch, Cassey and I, acting like school girls shopped for sexy underwear and I bought a new dress. At 7 on the dot there was a knock on my office door. I opened it to find Gabriel looking so fine in a dark suit. I knew he was handsome, I saw him that way since day one. But, in his work clothes, it was a rugged, guy kind of handsome. Like a jeans commercial handsome. But now, here, in this suit, he was refined and so sexy.
“Ready?” he asked.
“I am,” I said and off we went on our date. We had dinner and small bistro, we talked about our childhoods, our lives, our paths to where we were now. He told me about his late fiancé but, didn’t give too much detail. We finished a second bottle of wine and then, he drove me home. Like the gentleman he is, he walked me to my door. I didn’t want the night to end so I invited him in. He hesitated.
“All right,” he said finally, “but I don’t want you to get the idea that I’m cheap and easy.”
“You sure,” I said, “that’s what it says about you on the bathroom wall.” He smiled.
He came into my apartment and hung his jacket over the stair railing. I asked if he wanted a drink and he shook his head no. We stood, looking at each other for some time. I think we both knew what we wanted, what we needed but, neither of us knew how to start. There had been so many secret moments, so many short but sweet encounters. Now, nothing was standing in the way. No one would walk in, no one would interrupt, neither of us had any place to go but where we were right then.
“So...” I said.
“So...” he answered.
Then, he was near me, arms around me, his mouth on mine. The kiss, that amazing, warm, passionate kiss. It took the strength out of me and made my knees buckle. I held his head and kissed him back. Hard, deep and full of everything I had been holding back for so long. I could not remember ever wanting a man like this before. I pushed his suit jacket off his shoulders and dropped it to the ground. I reached for his tie and
he grabbed my hand. I opened my eyes and he was looking at me. He seemed slightly frightened, he seemed a little lost.
“Are you OK?” I asked. He bent his head and kissed my hand. He held the hand and walked me to the couch. We sat down. He kept looking down at my hand, rubbing it, kissing it.
“I lied,” he said, after a long silence. My heart skipped. I was suddenly nervous.
“What did you lie about?” I asked, not knowing if I wanted the answer.
“About being an emotional wreck,” he said and looked up from my hand. His eyes were wide and full of sorrow. “I’m better now, but...” He stopped. I pulled him close and touched his face, I kept his eyes on mine.
“But what, Gabriel?” I asked. He looked down again and we were wrapped in silence for a long time. I ached for him. I wanted to have him but, I also felt this growing need to help him. Something was troubling him and I was willing him with my eyes, my heart, my mind to tell me.
“I haven’t been with a woman since Helen was killed,” he said with a great sigh, a rush of air. He had been holding that in for so long and now, it spilled out. “I haven’t... wanted to,” he said and shrugged.
“We don’t have to do... Anything,” I said thinking how crazy that sounded, how awful that would be to have him in my apartment and not do anything. But, he was hurting and I did care, very much, about him.
“But, I want to. You must know that I want to.”
“I... Maybe guessed that you did... I mean.... We’ve...” I didn’t finish the sentence.
“Yes, we have,” he said and placed a hand on my cheek. “And I want to, now, I just... I needed you to know, it’s been a while.”
“OK, we can take this nice and...” And he closed my mouth with that kiss. That perfect kiss. We made out like high school kids on the couch for a long time. Kissing, just kissing, deep passionate kissing. It was wonderful. After kissing for a long time, he started to run his hands over my body. He stopped kissing me and looked at my body, looked closely at every part of me that he touched.
He ran his fingers gently over my neck and shoulders, pulling my dress down to expose them. He ran his hands slowly down over my breasts, his fingers tips playing over the fabric of my dress, then under the dress over the bra. He kissed the tops of my breasts so lovingly.
“These are beautiful,” he said and I blushed. He felt them some more, squeezing them, pinching my nipples through my lace bra. “Is the bedroom upstairs?”
“Yes, it’s just up on...” He stood and in one move pulled me up off the sofa and into his arms. He stooped slightly and lifted me up and carried me up the stairs. I kissed him and he almost fell. We laughed all the way up the stairs and into the bedroom. He placed my feet on the floor and stood before me, looking at me, taking me in. He made me feel very special, very beautiful.
“You are,” he said.
“I am what?” I asked.
“Very beautiful,” he said as if he had read my mind. He stepped to me and removed my dress, tossing it onto a chair. He ran his hands over me again, kissing my skin. Kissing my lips. I stood still and he moved around me, touching me all over with warm, strong hands.
When he was behind me, he unsnapped my bra and it fell to the floor. He reached around and took my breasts in his hands, cupping them, squeezing them. Pinching my nipples gently then, much more firmly. I gasped and he continued.
He kissed my back, all the way down. He was on his knees behind me, kissing the small of my back running his fingers up and down my legs. He turned me slowly and kissed me all the way around. He rose slowly, kissing my skin as he moved up. He took a nipple in his mouth and sucked it, nipped it and sent shivers through me. I held his head and steadied myself. I was always on the verge of falling with him, this time, it was perfect.
His hands were on my back, keeping me upright, his mouth was moving over my breasts, licking me, sucking my nipples, driving me insane. He was so gentle and careful with me. Then, suddenly, in one swift move, he grabbed my panties and ripped them off my body. They tore like paper in his hand and fluttered to the floor.
“Oh dear,” I gasped and he picked me up and carried me to the bed. He dropped me on my back, my legs hanging over the bed. I started to move up and he grabbed my ankles and pulled me back. He was on his knees between my legs, looking up at me, smiling. He ran his cheek up my inner thigh. He moved gracefully slowly and stopped at my pussy. He gently blew on it and I shuddered with anticipation. Then, his mouth was on me, covering my pussy which was already wet and very, very willing.
He ran his lower lip up and down my lower lips and flicked my clit with the very tip of his tongue. For a man who’d be away for a long time, he suffered no attrition in the skill category. His tongue was quite gifted. He alternated quick flicks and long, slow licks on my pussy and I was in heaven. I held his head, I didn’t want him to leave. I needed him to continue doing just that. And he did. He slipped his tongue inside me and painted the inner walls of my pussy with soft, wet strokes. I could feel my orgasm coming, Starting in my chest, it began to roll down my body. My chest, my tummy, my hips.
“Please.” I screamed and he licked faster, slipped a finger inside me and thrust it in and out of me. I couldn’t take any more and I started to cum, hard. My body rocked and shook. He grabbed my legs and kept his mouth buried between my thighs, sucking my clit, causing me to flood all over him. He kept it up, licking, thrusting his fingers into me and I rolled with orgasm for what felt like hours. The room spun and I felt like I would black out.
Finally, I shuddered and stopped, he kissed my lower lips gently and then rose to his feet. I propped myself on my elbows and looked at him. He stripped for me, slowly taking off his shirt, his belt, his pants all the while watching me, looking at me, devouring my body with his gaze. When he was naked I scooted to the end of the bed and took his hard, thick cock in my hand. It was lovely, I stroked him slowly while we looked into each other’s eyes. He was getting harder and I wanted to taste him.
I dropped to my knees and opened my mouth. I placed my lips around the head of his cock and ran my tongue down the underside of the shaft. I pushed forward and took his cock deep down my throat. He filled my mouth and I slowly moved back and forth, stroking him with my tongue. He kept his eyes on me, he ran his hands through my hair. He didn’t hold me there or force me down, he gently stroked my hair and I sucked him deep and long.
After some time, his cock tasting salty and sweet, he moaned and I could feel him begin to lengthen and thicken. I could feel him beginning to cum. Suddenly he grabbed me, lifted me, kissed me and threw me back on the bed. He threw my legs open and plunged his thick member deep into me. It took me by surprise, the thickness, the length, the power with which he slammed it into me and I shrieked. He put his hands under my ass and pulled me into him and plunged into me deeper. I dug my fingers into his ass and slammed my hips against him. It was energetic, I started to cum again. A hot, rolling orgasm.
“I’m going to cum,” I gasped into his ear, “I’m going to cum again.” He thrust harder, deeper and our bodies slammed into each other with heat and desire. We pounded each other and then, he exploded into me, I could feel the hot jets of cum firing into my pussy. I screamed and released my own orgasm. We flooded together, moving together. Our orgasms rolled in unison and we were soon spent and gasping on the bed. We rested for a moment and then, without letting him out of me, I rolled on top of him.
I rubbed his chest and looked at his face. His eyes were sparkling now. I saw no hints of the great sorrow I was used to seeing. I rocked back and forth so easily, so gently. I kept this motion going as he ran his hands over my hips, my ass, up my body to breasts. I kept the motion going, the slow, purposeful rocking and after some time, again, we shared an orgasm, this one rolling slowly and deeply through us. I could feel him cum up inside me again and I could feel myself release and flood all over his sweet cock. It was slow, soft and brilliant. After we were done, I rolled off him and lay next to him. He wrapped me up in hi
s arms and, soon, we both fell asleep.
***
I woke with the feeling of sunlight playing over my face. He was not in the bed. I looked around and saw his shirt only. I sat up and listened. Sounds were coming from downstairs. I figured I was either being robbed or, someone was in the kitchen, making coffee. I threw on his shirt and padded downstairs. He was in the kitchen, coffee was perking and he was looking through the fridge. He heard me and looked up, smiling a glorious morning smile.
“Good morning beautiful,” he said. “How about some breakfast?”
“Sure,” I said sitting down and enjoying the view.
“What would you like? Anything you’d like.”
“Really?” I asked and he nodded. “Wow, OK, well... An omelet. I want one. I love them but, I cannot, for the life of me, make an omelet.” He looked at me, shocked and put a hand on his chest like he was having a heart attack.
The Ultimate Erotic Short Story Collection 37 - 11 Steamingly Hot Erotica Books For Women Page 2