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The following material is sexually explicit erotica.

If you are offended by hard-core pornography close this file.

Chapter 11

Concert

Saturday morning and afternoon seemed to crawl by. I tried to keep busy by doing odd chores around the house and then a bit of shopping, including a large bunch of roses for Lucy. At one stage I was tempted to go to where she was working, just to see her face and the look in her eyes when she saw me, but I knew it was a busy day in the shop and I doubted she'd really appreciate me doing that.

Eventually it was time to get ready and like a teen-ager going out on his first date with a very special girl I found myself taking extra care with everything from the selection of suit, shirt and tie, to the closeness of my shave, and the brightness of the polish on my shoes.

But when she answered the door and I saw what Lucy had done to herself I felt like just a scruffy school-boy by comparison.

She seemed to have set out to make herself look older, more worldly, and although I loved the way she usually looked, what she had done simply took my breath away.

Instead of her hair hanging loose, she had used a much more complexly elegant style, sweeping it back and up on top of her head, holding it in place with a large, black comb. Her make-up was more sophisticated too, a little darker and heavier than usual, the shading around her eyes making them seem larger and even more brilliant.

Then I looked lower, and the sophisticated look was further heightened by the dress she wore. I suppose it was what would be called a 'classic little black dress', very simple lines, and as there were no additions or decorations to distract the eye, the final effect was totally dependent on how well it fitted the body inside it. On Lucy it looked as though every single cut and stitch had been made with precisely her curves in the designer's mind, and that he had set out to make sure the dress enhanced each and every one.

The colour of the dress heightened the creamy, lightly tanned colour of her skin and the low cut top and thin shoulder straps left plenty of that on show. And although the bust line had only a relatively modest vee cut, her breasts were so full that even that provided a tempting view of the start of the deep cleavage between them. To accentuate her neck and shoulders she had avoided a too ostentatious necklace, wearing just a simple, jet-black choker of beads and a tiny pair of matching ear-rings.

'You, you look even more beautiful than ever!' I stammered.

'Thank you, and you look particularly elegant tonight. Come in for a moment, I've almost finished putting my things together.'

Having finished packing her overnight bag I took it and the much heavier one containing her study books down to the car, and as we were having supper later, we went straight to the concert.

The performance was an exceptionally fine one and although the music held virtually all my attention I wasn't able to resist taking the occasional, surreptitious, sideways glance at Lucy. Each time marvelling not only at her beauty but at the fact she was there with me.

By the time the concert finished we were both feeling quite exhilarated, exchanging enthusiastic comments about various sections that had impressed us as we made our way to a nearby restaurant. We were still chatting excitedly when we were shown to a table but finally slowed when the food and wine arrived and we both realised that by then we were really quite hungry.

'Which was your favourite piece?' I asked after we had been eating for a while.

'Oh the concerto, I just love that one, it's so sexy.'

'Sexy?'

'Yes, especially the slow movement. I've often imagined making love to it.' she added in a much softer voice.

'I have a rather good recording of it at home, so that's something we can try, another evening.' I added.

She gave me a wry grin. 'I'll keep you to that, and look forward to it.' she paused for a moment, then added. 'Just remember that in some ways I'm even more sorry about Mother Nature spoiling our week-end than you are Jack, but as I said on the phone, you don't have to be totally celibate, we just have to be careful.'

I hadn't meant to say what I said next, well not there and then, and not under those circumstances, but I did, and having done so I wasn't really sorry that I had. 'Lucy darling, it's not just the sex. I mean, wanting to be with you, it's not just for the sex. Wonderful though that is.'

She gave me a surprised, but somehow knowing smile, then said. 'What do you mean Jack?'

It was a simple enough question and I knew what the right answer was, but for some reason I just couldn't get the words in my head into the correct order.

'I don't want you thinking that the only thing I'm interested in is the sex.' I finally managed to say in a reasonably controlled tone of voice.

'I know that Jack, we have many things in common, there's music and art.'

'I don't mean that, and you know it.' I said, interrupting her.

'What then?'

'I think I'm falling in love with you!' I suddenly blurted out.

She reached across the table and placed her hand on mine, then very softly, and sympathetically she said. 'I know you are Jack, and I'm feeling exactly the same way. But there are a lot of things to consider, aren't there.'

'You're falling in love me?' I asked in loud, much more excited voice.

'Shush, no need to tell everybody. Of course, you don't think I'm here just for a free concert do you?'

'No, no of course not! I just can't believe it!'

'Believe what Jack?'

'That you said what you did.' I answered much more quietly. 'When? I mean when did you start feeling that way?'

'Oh the first evening, I think in the bar where we had that drink, if not then, then certainly in the restaurant.'

'So quickly?'

'Mmm, it surprised me too. It still does, that's one of the things that's been worrying me, I mean it's not a concept I've believed in. Until now that is.'

'What's that?'

'The idea that people can fall in love at first sight. It always seemed too melodramatic before, too Hollywoodish.'

'But you haven't said anything.'

'Well neither have you, until just now.'

'I haven't been sure, I mean about you, I mean I've been frightened of scaring you off.' I burbled.

'Scaring me off?'

'Yes, I thought if I started getting too emotional you might want to break things off.'

'So you thought I was just in it for the sex?'

'No! I mean. Oh shit, I don't know what I mean. I just didn't want to do or say anything that might even risk me losing you.'

'Silly man, but I think I understand. Anyway, now that's out in the open we can get on with things, but let's leave any serious talking until tomorrow Jack, and for now, let's finish this delicious meal.'

I tried to do as she suggested but I found that my whirling thoughts were making even the simple task of transferring food from the plate to my mouth difficult. And although not intentionally, Lucy wasn't making things any easier for me, from time to time glancing up and giving me a gentle smile, each one making my hands shake and my heart skip a few beats.

But somehow I got through the rest of the meal without making too much of a fool of myself and even managed to make half sensible responses to Lucy's attempt at maintaining some sort of conversation.

When we had finished we walked hand in hand in virtual silence from the restaurant to the car park but once we were headed home I said. 'I'll respect what you asked, about us not talking seriously until tomorrow, but I just want you to know this is almost the most momentous evening of my life Lucy.'

'Almost?' she asked hesitantly.

'Second only to the one when I first met you.'

'Ah, that's all right then.' she said in a happier tone of voice, then shifted herself closer, reached across and rested one hand on my knee.

She remained silent for a while, waiting until I had manoeuvred us out of the central city traffic before saying. 'Jack, I don't want how we think we feel about each other to change the physical side of things.'

'I don't think I feel this way Lucy, I'm sure - but why should that change the other things?'

'I don't know, I just don't want it to. I love what we do with each other, it's too good to change in any way.'

'What if it gets better?'

She laughed. 'I don't see how it could, but so long as that's the only change, OK.'

I took that opportunity to ask the question that had been in my mind since her cryptic phone call. 'In that case, when you phoned to tell me about your period starting you said you had something in mind for tonight, are you going to tell me what it is, or do I just have to wait until it happens?'

She paused for a moment before answering, then said. 'Do you still have that tube of lubricant, you know, the stuff you used on Fred?'

'Yes of course.'

'Good, we'll need that. Do you like it the other way, I mean, well you know, from behind?'

'I've not done it very often Lucy, but yes, yes I do. How about you though?'

'I've only ever tried it once and that was no good. But.' she added quickly. 'I'm sure it would be different with you, you're so patient, so considerate, I know it will be all right.'

'Only if you're sure about it. I'm not a sex maniac you know.'

'You could have fooled me!' she replied with a deep-throated laugh. 'But even if that's true, have you considered that I might be?'

'If that's true I'm not sure I'll be able to keep up, but as they say, what a way to go!'

We continued the increasingly light-hearted banter during the rest of the trip home and I realised that the sound of feminine laughter was yet another thing that had been missing from my life for a very, very long time.

'Would you like a brandy as a night-cap?' I asked once we were indoors.

'Oh yes, that's a nice idea, but first I have to use the bath-room.' she said, then as she turned to go upstairs she added in a softer tone. 'Why don't you take the drinks upstairs, and then get undressed for me.'

As I realised I also needed a pee I used the other bath-room before pouring the drinks and carrying them, and the rest of the bottle up to the bed-room. Having stripped the cover off the bed I got out the tube of lubricant and got undressed, but for some reason found that sitting there completely naked while I waited for her to return made me feel nervous and even a little foolish.

She wasn't gone for very long but given what she had asked me to do I was surprised when I saw that she was still fully dressed. She stood still for a few moments, her eyes looking down at me and because of the confused and somewhat uncomfortable feelings I'd had I knew my cock was still its normal, totally unaroused size.

'Do you realise it's the first time I've seen you like this? Unexcited I mean.' she said.

'I'm afraid there's not much for you to look at.' I replied, standing up and passing her a glass.

She smiled then said. 'I've been wanting this. I don't mean the brandy, nor just to see how it normally looks, I've wanted an opportunity to watch as it grows. So please don't do anything as I get undressed, just stand still and we'll watch each other.'

She took a sip of brandy then put down the glass and went around switching off the main lights and turning on just the lamps on the bed-side tables. Then re-crossing the room and taking another sip of brandy and then a hair-brush from her overnight bag, she stood in front of the nearby full-length mirror. After a quick look over her shoulder she reached up behind herself, unzipped the dress, slipped its thin straps off and let the material fall to her waist. Then she paused for a moment, as though giving me time to enjoy the anticipation of what was to follow, then removing the comb that had been holding her hair in place, she shook it free and began to slowly brush it.

Because I was standing immediately behind her at first I couldn't see anything but her back, so I moved slightly to one side and found that from there I could not only see the reflection of her but also her partial profile. My change of position not only improved what I could see of her but of course also improved her view of me, and after giving me a brief smile, her eyes dropped to my crotch.

With her arm lifted to brush her hair I had a perfect view of the uptilted curve of her breasts, and as I stood there enjoying the sight of her I wished I knew an artist talented enough to capture her in that pose. The slow, seductive movement of her arm. The prominent curve of her breast. The graceful line of her pale, creamy back, its colour and smoothness accentuated by the lacy black band of her bra. The way the hanging folds of material outlined the sensuously rounded curve of her hips.

But the more I thought about it the more convinced I became that even a modern-day Degas would have difficulty capturing the actual beauty of her. I was suddenly filled with an overwhelming sense of joy, joy tinged with a measure of disbelief that not only was this stunningly beautiful woman here with me, but that within the last hour she had said she was falling in love with me.

Then the slow, almost hypnotic movement of her arm stopped, and I was brought back to a more earthy reality. She reached up behind herself, unclipped her bra and slipped it off, then bent, took hold of the hem of her dress, and slowly pulled it up over her head.

In the process she couldn't help disturbing her hair a little and so, having dropped the dress on the floor beside her, she resumed the slow brushing. My attention was of course immediately drawn to the sight of her unrestrained breasts, watching as they gently swayed with each move of her arm, my fingers tingling at the thought that it wouldn't be long before I would be fondling them.

But then something else caught my eye and when they drifted lower, down over the curve of her waist, hip and buttocks, I suddenly realised she was wearing stockings, not pantyhose. They were grip-tops, doing away with the need for a suspender belt and so leaving an unbroken, smoothly curving length of thigh between their tops and the lacy panties that obviously matched the bra she had just taken off. In spite of the enticing fullness of her breasts and the exciting swell of her bottom I found there was something especially tempting about those sections of creamy flesh.

I wanted to slowly run my hands up and down her legs, feel the difference between the sheer nylon and the warm softness of her skin. And as I imagined myself actually doing that, I felt my heart starting to beat faster and my cock reacting.

I looked down and saw that the shaft had already grown quite long and thick, the head darkly swollen, and realised it must have started to fill from the moment she unzipped her dress. But until then I had been so distracted, by her beauty and the strength of my newly discovered emotions, that I simply hadn't been conscious of what was happening to me physically.

Looking up I saw that although Lucy had finally put the brush down she was still watching my reflection, a tense smile curling the corners of her mouth. She glanced up and caught my eye. 'It's exciting, being able to watch your body's reactions Jack. Tell me what's going through your mind?' She said, dropping her eyes back down to my crotch.

'Lots of things Lucy, lots of things all mixed up together.' I answered hesitantly.

'Tell me Jack.' she insisted.

As I had in the restaurant, I found the jumbled thoughts whirling around inside my head. I suddenly seemed incapable of formulating even the simplest of sentences. There was so much I wanted to say, but they were things I'd never had to say before, and I had no idea of how to put what I'd been thinking into actual words.

But I could se she waiting, so at first in a really stumbling way I began, then once I had, found the words becoming easier.

'A few moments ago I was wishing I knew an artist who could paint you, who could preserve your loveliness forever. When you took off your things I just couldn't keep my eyes off you, off your breasts. They are so beautiful, I know I'll never tire of looking at them, or wanting to kiss and fondle them.

But then when I looked down and saw that you're wearing stockings, I felt an even stronger urge. I want to run my hands up and down your legs, to feel their warm softness, to feel the difference between the nylon and your silky skin.'

'That's nice to hear, it's great knowing that you can get turned-on from just looking at me, and then feeling myself getting excited as I watch it happening to you.'

'Just looking at me getting an erection excites you?'

'Of course it does Jack. As I watch it getting bigger, harder, I remember what it feels like when I hold it. I remember the feel of its strength, its barely restrained power. I remember the thrills it's already given me, and start anticipating those it's soon going to be.'

The thought of her getting aroused from merely looking at me added to my own and I felt my cock quivering as it rose steadily higher.

'Aah yes, that's even better!' she said huskily. 'Now, is this what you wanted to do?'

As she spoke the started lightly caressing herself, the finger-tips of one hand brushing over and around her breast, the others running slowly up and down her thigh. I watched, imagining I could feel what she could, feel her skin, the firm flesh, feel my fingers tingling as they moved over her body. And as I watched and imagined those sensations I felt an aching pressure inside me, growing stronger the longer she continued to caress herself.

'Yes I can see that it is.' she said in a low, barely audible voice. 'And in a way I wish it was your hands doing it, not mine. But then I wouldn't be able to see what I can, see your gorgeous cock getting bigger, getting stronger, getting ready for me.'

Neither of us said anything for a minute or two, each mesmerised by watching the other. Then she broke the silence. 'Touch it for me Jack, stroke it, and tell me what you're thinking, what you're feeling.' she suddenly said in a slightly louder voice.

I immediately recalled the evening just a few days earlier, when we had done it over the phone, and then I remembered that the following night, when we'd been having a late snack in the kitchen, she'd said she liked talking about what we had done. I realised that verbalising what was happening would be another form of stimulation for her, something that would increase her level of excitement.

'Just watching you has already made my cock very sensitive, and my balls are feeling heavy.' I said as I took them in my hands. 'Because as I watch you caressing yourself, I imagine it's me doing it, that I can feel your body beneath my finger-tips. Your skin is so beautiful, the flesh beneath it so smooth and firm.'

Even though I could feel the already straining length of my cock with one hand and the swollen, tightening sac with the other, in my mind I was imagining it was her softer, even more responsive curves that I was actually fondling. 'I'd love to be able to lie beside you for hours, just stroking and caressing you.' I said. 'But doing it always gets me so aroused, makes me want you so much I have to move on. So in one way I'm glad I can't actually touch you, this way gives me more time to enjoy the anticipation of what's yet to come. But even so my cock is starting to want more than I can do for it myself. Even though it's automatically responding to my own touch, it's as though it knows how much better, how much stronger yours would be.

It's just impossible to tell you how wonderful it feels when you touch me, when I feel your fingers curling around it, when your lips slip down over it, when I enter you, feel your pussy welcoming it home. And that's exactly what it is, home. Even when I'm intensely aroused, need to get off so desperately I can't think of anything else, when I slide into you I know that's the place my cock was made to fit, that's it's home.