Sam and Im in the Beginning

Sam and Kim

In the Beginning

Sam's a gigolo. Can Kim's love,

transcend the barriers?

Mille Dynamite

© Copyright 2024 by Millie Dynamite

NOTE:

This work contains material not suitable for anyone under eighteen (18) or those of a delicate nature. This is a story and contains descriptive scenes of a graphic, sexual nature. This tale is a work of pure fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously—any resemblance to actual persons, whether living, deceased, real events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

Chapter One:

What's Love Got to Do with It?

Colorado, 1977

The soft glow of the candles between them flickered across the linen tablecloth. Casting a ballet of light and shadow. The music in the background seemed to beat with Sam Butler's steady heartbeat. His pale blue eyes, usually bright with a confident spark, held a quiet intensity as he watched Kimberly Skye Martindale fiddle with the corner of her napkin. The air in the restaurant hummed with hushed conversations and the clinking of fine China.

And yet their table felt like a secluded world where time slowed.

"Sam, I love you," Kim said, her voice tinged with the soft twang of her Southern upbringing, a delicate strain against the backdrop of murmured dialogue.

He'd been waiting for those words, though they still managed to send a jolt through him like grabbing a life electric wire. Leaning forward, his gaze never wavered from her beautiful face. Sam replied softly with words that were less than perfect.

"Me too, baby doll."

His deep voice resonated with a sincerity that vibrated in her ears. It was more than she'd expected to hear, yet her heart ached for something deeper, something unequivocal.

With her nerves on end, Kim chewed on her lower lip, unsure what to say, as she gazed into Sam's unreadable expression. Her hair cascaded in loose waves of chestnut to her shoulders. She forced a smile, but it didn't quite reach her eyes, filled with longing and a hidden question. She sought solace in Sam's gaze, even as she struggled with conflicting emotions, needing something more from him than a short copout,

'Me too.'

"Rita says you're a gigolo," she blurted out, the words slipping past her guard and tumbling into the space between them.

Sam didn't flinch, bat an eye, or move a muscle. He simply nodded once, the movement slow and deliberate. His face, always so open and readable, closed off as if he had drawn a curtain over his thoughts.

"Is that how you can afford the Trans Am?" Her inquiry pierced the silence, which settled around them, a silence heavy with implications.

Another nod, nothing more. No smile, no cocky quip, no touch. Just the truth laid bare between the newish couple, stark and unembellished.

Kim lowered her gaze to her plate, her appetite lost amidst the swirl of emotions. They continued their meal, each bite tasting of confusion and unspoken questions, an unsatisfying flavor. Their connection, once felt as easy as breathing, now seemed strained—a ponderous tension neither could navigate.

As the minutes dragged on, Kim mechanically went through the motions of dining without conversation. In her mind, she played back the events of the evening. Sam's nonchalant confession was a presence refusing to be ignored. She grappled with the reality of Sam, who he was, and what he did for a living. And how deeply she loved and wanted him wanted to marry him.

The revelation didn't change feelings, didn't change her love; they solidified them with determination. She decided no matter what, she wouldn't let Sam push her away for any reason, least of all this one.

They ate, surrounded by the whispers of other diners. A bland whirlwind of normalcy around their bubble of complexity—until only their uncomfortable silence remained.

Sam feared he'd lost Kim, the only person, the only woman he'd ever loved.

The low hum of conversation outside the restaurant faded away as Sam opened the door to his sleek Trans Am, a silent invitation for what was to come. Anticipation between them crackled. Each step they took away from the public eye drew them nearer to the cliff of their relationship.

"What do you wanna do now?"

Sam's voice, deep and sensuous, rose above a whisper but only just. Yet it commanded her full attention.

"Go to your apartment and get to know each other extremely well," Kim said, her drawl thick with lechery. And the words tumbled out, coated in a boldness that conflicted her innocence.

Unfastening her seatbelt with a deliberate click, she leaned across the console, her lips brushing his cheek in a tender kiss, which promised so much more. Her whispers were like velvet against his ear, intimate confessions of readiness to cross the threshold into womanhood.

Sam's eyes searched hers for an answer. He searched for confirmation of what she wanted. His concern was genuine, contrasting to the man who had nodded so coolly to the truth of his profession only moments before.

"You sure about this, Kim?"

Her response came laced with a tease, a challenge to the truth of his double life.

"Do you ask all your clients that?"

"No, none of them; what's love got to do with a client? You see, Kimberly Skye, what we have here is different. I've fallen head over heels in love with you."

The words hung in her ears, moved through her brain, shot into her heart, weighted with emotion beyond the physical pull between them. Kim's heart swelled, melting into a pool of warmth as she snuggled closer, her body molding to his.

Kimberly lowered her voice to a sultry whisper to tell him a secret meant only for him.

"Much better answer than, 'Me too.' So, see, I made Mommy get me on the pill after our first date. I just knew...you were the one."

A soft sigh escaped Sam. The sound mixed with the rustle of clothing as they settled into an embrace. The world outside the car faded to insignificance. The night ahead held possibilities, Sam and Kim were artists with matching brushes, and a canvas awaited the brushstrokes of their desire.

They exited the car and made their way to Sam's apartment.

The glow from the sea of lights of the city filtered through the sheer curtains. Casting a soft light on Sam's living room as they entered. The plush carpet welcomed them, their bodies sinking into its embrace while the murmurs of the television from upstairs played.

The actors' voices were lost beneath the sultry tones of Al Green crooning from the record player from the apartment below. Kim lay beneath Sam, her delicate frame contrasted by his muscular build, as he slowly peeled away the layers of her clothing with reverent hands.

"Sam," she said. A whisper, her voice trembled with anticipation and something more profound. A raw need kindled over months of stolen glances, fleeting touches, and hushed promises. Her breath hung in her throat when Sam kissed between her breasts, teasing her with his tongue.

"God, Sam...oh, baby...I love you so much," Kim said, panting her words, her body and mind thick with emotion. The room spun around them, a vortex of sensation and sound.

Once the waves of ecstasy receded, leaving Kim relaxed and spent on the floor. Her fingers reached for the hem of Sam's shirt, tugging gently.

"Is that okay?" she asked, seeking permission.

"Anything you want, Kido," Sam said, assuring her, his voice a deep caress sending tremors.

With each piece of fabric she removed, Kim's confidence grew. She paused—inhaled hard as she revealed the prick, the object of her curiosity and carnality. It was him, all of him. Sam, in all his glory—his manhood stood impressive, large, and angry, displaying the animal magnetism both intimidating and enticing her.

"Touch me, Kimber," Sam coaxed, guiding her hand with gentle pressure.

Her fingers encircled him, tentative at first, then with growing assurance as she took him into her mouth. The power of giving such bliss intoxicated Kim, and she committed herself to the task with fervor despite her total inexperience.

"Like that...you're perfect," Sam breathed, his fingers weaving through her hair as he surrendered to the sensations she evoked.

Under his tutelage, she learned the rhythm that drove him wild. The subtle nuances of pressure and pace edged him closer to the brink.

Kim's lips moved in a heated measure. Her ragged and raw breaths mingled with the sounds of their impassioned liaison. Groans, moans, and sighs battled with music and TV racket drifting through the open window. The smells of perfume, sweat, and sex filled the room's air as Kim devoted herself to pleasuring Sam.

His massive cock, a challenge she met with eagerness. Her mouth worked him with an intensity both raw and tender. Her southern drawl silenced by the task at hand.

"Beautiful...just like that, baby doll," Sam said, his sensuous words rumbling through her. Sam's fingers glided over her body with practiced perfection. Skillfully increasing her sensual gratification as he explored her flesh, all the hills and valleys, in unison with his own enjoyment.

A finger thrust inside her, and the thumb teased her clit, spurring her to match the delight he gave with what she returned.

Time became a haze, measured only by the pulse of the desperate need between them. Kim's jaws ached with effort, her lips stretched around the breadth of him, yet she persisted. Driven by the sensuality to prove her devotion, to be the source of his ecstasy.

"You can come off it, Kido. I'm about to cum," Sam warned, but Kim was resolute, quickening her pace, determined to see this through to the end.

Kim shook her head and continued to try to please Sam with more fervor.

Heat spilled into her, thick and potent, a declaration of Sam's release. Swallowing, she hoped her fervor was enough, and at that moment, she made him proud.

Afterward, Kim rested her head on Sam's belly and gazed, amazed as his erection softened. There was a vulnerability in this act for both. Their sharing of self went beyond the physical. Kim felt something shift within her. The trust and intimacy wove a new layer into the foundation of their relationship.

"We should stop for the night. I've got to get you home," Sam said after a moment, the words gentle yet firm.

Standing, Kim felt the absence of his warmth immediately. She crossed to the phone, her movements languid and slightly unsteady. Dialing with fingers, which still trembled, she put on her best innocent tone.

"Mummy, I'm not coming home tonight... Tell Daddy I'm staying with Rita, okay?... thanks Mommy."

Hanging up, she turned back to Sam, her decision made, her heart racing with anticipation for what would come.

Sam's arms, strong and sure, swept Kim from the floor. Cradling her with ease, which shocked her. As he carried her to his bedroom, the world blurred into a swirl of sensation. A sanctum of intimacy where shadows bore witness from the corners, touched at most by the muted light.

The mattress accepted her weight with a soft sigh. The bed welcomed her in its soft embrace as Sam hovered above. Something about Sam was like a powerful magnet pulling her to him. It was like being caught in a whirlpool of wantonness, tangled in a web between them. Sam's lips found Kim's, a gentle brush whispering of the tempest yet to come.

A fire trailed down her throat.

Sam followed the contours of Kim's body from her waist, trailing down to her quivering thighs. A single thumb circled her clit, coaxing it from its hiding place. While his other hand parted her moist folds, exploring the depths of her most private place.

"Please, Sam."

She murmured the plea, her voice laced with urgency, her body tightened with need.

"Shh, baby doll, trust me," Sam's deep, sensuous voice rumbled against her flesh, his breath hot upon her skin as he inserted one finger into her slowly, reverently, followed by another. He stretched her opening. Preparing her body for his invasion, maintaining an exquisite pace, leaving her writhing beneath him.

"Ah, God!" Kim's moans filled the room, unrestrained declarations of the pleasure coursing through her. She clung to Sam, murmuring, sensing the need and power twisted within him. Her touch descended, cupping the firmness of his balls, before stroking the length of him, now hard and insistent once again.

Their bodies moved together in the timeless ritual of love. Each touch, every kiss, an affirmation to which bound them. A proclamation that went beyond mere physicality. As Sam's ministrations built her toward a precipice she'd never known, Kim knew this was the moment. The cusp of a beginning, where every sensation was a discovery and every whisper of love a vow.

Sam positioned himself between Kim's thighs. Her body trembled, and her heart pounded. His hands caressed her hips with a practiced ease from his vocation. The heat of anticipation charged the air as he slid the length, the formidable length of him, across the tender bud of her desire. Sam painted a path down the slickened folds ached to welcome him.

Each deliberate stroke was a pledgee, each retreat a tease. It kindled a fire that stoked a blaze of necessity inside Kim.

Their mouths met in a fervent French kiss. Each breath shared between them held substance as they ceased being separate and unified as one entity. Time seemed to stretch as they connected deeply, their bodies intertwining as if made for each other. Samuel and Kimberly found themselves lost in each other.

He moved with grace as the foreplay neared the act. Sam Butler was a confident man, which marked every aspect of him—lover, gigolo, the creature who'd awakened the woman in Kim.

"Sam."

Kim's lips quivered against his, tremors in her voice thick in her want as a torrent of emotions surged through her.

"I need you."

"I'm here, baby doll." His cock, hard and demanding, pressed at her entrance, the head poised to breach the barrier which proved her innocence.

"This can't be taken back," Sam said.

"I know, please, I need you inside me."

As she tensed beneath him, the enormity of the moment wrapped around her like the night outside. She felt the tip of him, insistent and unyielding, nudging against her uncharted territory. A gasp escaped her lips when he pushed forward. An inch gained was a lifetime of waiting fulfilled. Her body stretched to accommodate him. An initial discomfort contrasted with the sexual desire, which spiraled from every other caress.

"Relax, sweetheart."

Sam soothed her. His hands tender but commanding as they fondled her flushed skin. With gentleness, he eased in half an inch more, the breadth of him a warm intrusion that coaxed her muscles to yield to his assault.

Kim's response was a soft, keening utterance. A mixture of ache and ecstasy as she kissed him again fiercely as if she drew strength from his mouth. She experienced the fullness, the slight resistance as he encountered the final vestige of her virginity.

Breathing out, Kim delivered herself to the sensation. The sharp pain exploded low in her belly as her hymen gave way. A fleeting confession to the girl she had been, now eclipsed by the woman she was.

"Ah, Sam..."

She whimpered the words of love, dissolving into a moan that conveyed both the fear of the unknown and the thrill of intimacy. In this twilight of sensations, she was caught between the innocence of her past and the promise of her future. All this with the man whose presence commanded her every thought for months on end.

Despite the discomfort, there was no place she'd rather be than here, with Sam. Enveloped in the depth of his embrace and the assurance of his love. Kim's rapture peaked, overwhelming her senses with each wave of sensation. It was her first time as a woman with her man. Kim felt an unexpected twinge of jealousy of the other women but pushed it aside to focus on the love she shared with Sam.

Sam's resolve surged as he witnessed the battle of emotions playing across Kim's face—the stark vulnerability softened by trust, the pain interlaced with delight. He held still for a moment, allowing her to adjust to all of him. Then, with tenderness, he moved within her, each withdrawal and push a careful calibration of depth and pace.

The air grew heavy with the scent of lust, an aphrodisiac for their communion. The room faded into nothingness as they moved together in a cocoon of shared whispered endearments. Kim's mutters transformed into moans, a litany of profanity-laced declarations of love spilled from her lips like fervent prayers. The once distant craving now pulsed through her veins, spiraling outwards from where they were joined.

Time lost all meaning. It became a fluid concept as they lost themselves in each other. Sam's body settled into a relentless pace that drove Kim towards ecstasy over and over. The minutes stretched and bent, coiled around the couple. Time itself was reluctant to let them go.

Her body, once tense with trepidation, now arched and writhed beneath him, welcoming each thrust with an eager hunger matching his own.

"Sam... oh, God, Sam!"

Her voice wailed as the ecstasy reached a new zenith. The climax broke over her like an eruption, refusing to stop. The sensations compounded, layered upon one another until her breath refused to be filled.

She orgasmed time after time. And they continued making love, from one peak to the next.

And then, as if drawn by the irresistible force of their connection, they found release together—an hour into their union. A convergence of lust and need which sealed the bond between them. Kim's world shattered into a kaleidoscope of color and feeling. The last orgasm eclipsed all others in its earth-shattering totality. She clung to him, her spirit soaring even as her body trembled from the aftershocks, utterly consumed by the love coursing through every fiber of her being.

Sam and Kim's bodies entwined as if fashioned from the same divine cloth. They lay in a tangle of sated limbs. The afterglow of their furious lovemaking dyed them in hues of contentment. Their breaths blended in the quiet of his apartment. The TV above and the music from below were silent. The only remaining music was cricket songs and a bellow of frogs off in the night.

Sam's dick still filled her wholly, a sensation which rendered Kim awestruck each time she felt the gentle throb within her. It was wondrous, being so thoroughly claimed by the man she loved.

"You didn't get half of your... monster... inside me."

"It'll take a long time for that to happen. It might not ever happen."

"But... baby... I want it to happen," Kim said. She sought to erase any space that dared to separate them. They curled up together.

In the silent closeness of their entanglement, Kim felt an emotion bloom inside her. The piercing jealousy was as unexpected as it was sharp. She pondered whether the women who sought Sam's touch—those who traded currency for his intimacy—felt a semblance of the love now enveloped her heart.

Did they cling to him as she did now? Were they desperate to capture a fragment of what he made her feel? The thought of those women left a bitter taste, and she pushed it away. Kim chose instead to focus on the man whose arms enfolded her.

As the moonlight danced across the room, casting a serene glow over the lovers, fatigue began to weave its spell around them. Eyelids heavy with the weight of spent desire, they succumb to the beckoning arms of slumber. In the tranquil moment, before sleep claimed her consciousness, Kim pressed tighter into Sam.