"Monty," she called him after her session. "We have to talk."
She could hear him gently breathing, letting out a small sigh? "Anytime. Anyplace. Lunch? Dinner?"
She hadn't worked more than an hour so far that day because of her session. She couldn't afford the time away from work. She had to see him, had to get this out in the open.
"Drinks. Antoine's. 6PM."
He agreed and hung up leaving her shaking slightly at the raw emotion building inside her. She was terrified. She was angry as hell. She needed to do this thing. She wanted him. It was stupid to wait so long, but she had to get some work done.
By 3PM she had almost forgotten about it, buried in some stupid corporate finance audit. It should have been dry enough to burn any emotion out of a person, but every few minutes she'd look up and daydream about what she was going to say, what might happen later that night.
On the way to the bar she recalled the night in the living room, the one she had forced him to show her. The scene she wanted to see was in the den, but she had cut it short, just after he had finished her off in the living room. She had thought the night was going to go as all the others had -- all foreplay without the big event, but it hadn't ended there. She practically missed her right turn thinking about what they had done later that evening.
* - * - *
She looked at him, still stiff even though she had reciprocated his incredible cunnilingus not moments before. "Are you always so aroused?" She felt a little...intimidated? that she couldn't satisfy him.
"Just around you," he stroked her.
"Stop it," she giggled, a little embarrassed at the complement. "I'm serious. Every time we get together, I can't seem to relieve you. It's disturbing as much as it is a challenge. Not to mention incredibly sexy." She reached down and held his erection. She loved how warm it was; soft on the outside, firm on the inside.
"I am serious. There's something about you that keeps me stiff." He made a point of tracing his eyes from her fingers to her nipples, stopping at her bush along the way.
She blushed, but didn't stop stroking him. Petting him really. "But, why doesn't it get soft after you come? And are you hard even when we're not having sex?"
He paused. "the second question is easy: No. When I see you naked, or touch you, or kiss you, or you touch me..." he stopped to take note of her hand, "...the first question is a little harder to answer."
She caught his eye, raising her eyebrow to confirm the pun.
"It's as close to a religion as I get," he continued, looking her straight in the eye. "Remember my comment at dinner about belief systems changing your behavior?"
She nodded, still stroking him, wishing she could get him to release his sperm for her.
"Well, that 'Tantric Exercise' reference -- I was serious about it being like praying. Would you think me a terrible geek if I filled you in on it a little?"
I wish he'd fill me in a lot with it, but that doesn't seem to be in the cards...That conversation at dinner -- he really started to go off on belief systems...I hope he isn't some kind of religious nut -- although if this is what his religion's about, maybe I shouldn't complain.
"Let's go into the den -- it's cozy there....No...don't get dressed, I love to see you parade around this house...your body adds sorely needed femininity to my starkly male aesthetic." He smiled lewdly at her.
They went down the stairs to a room below the kitchen -- it was like being inside a crystal its facets extending out from the house into the forest behind. Except for the floor and the back wall through which they entered, all of the other surfaces appeared to be glass. The far exterior wall was interrupted with a fireplace: it appeared to be suspended in the forest.
It was breathtaking and she wondered why he hadn't brought her here before. It was immediately her favorite room in the place. Several pieces of furniture decorated the room: large poofy bean bags, a deep pile rug, book shelves on the solid wall, tables throughout. "Monty. You keep surprising me with new rooms. You should give me the proper 25 cent tour." She posed with her hand on her hip, pouting.
"I have been remiss, you're right. It's best during the day. How about after breakfast?" He raised and lowered his eyebrows, Groucho Marx style.
She giggled and nodded her head, pleased with him he had invited her and pleased with herself for accepting.
We're certainly moving this in an interesting direction.
He watched as she explored the room; her hesitancy at being too close to the glass, her inspection of the bookshelves. He busied himself at the fireplace getting it started within moments.
"I love to meditate in this room," he commented, standing up from the fire. She had stopped at a shelf reading some of the titles. He stood and looked at her, realizing his penis was rapidly rising again at the sight: her breasts were "perky" in a way that made him want to rush over and kiss them. Her neck. That neck. He so wanted to just stroke that neck, pushing her energy down to her groin. His eyes traveled down to her waist where he lingered on the line of her buttocks -- so tight and nicely shaped. He continued to marvel at her proportions -- how close to ideal they seemed to him. His erection was nearly full.
She looked up, realizing he'd said something but not catching it. She immediately saw his cock and tsked. "There it is again -- I thought you had calmed down a little, coming down the hall. What did I do this time?" She had pulled a book from the shelf, her eyes widening as she opened it to a page. "What is this?"
The fire lit the room with a yellowish orange glow. He looked down at the book in her hands and saw one of the Kundalini practices -- a specific Tantric position for novices. The woman in the photograph was spread open, her dark bush peeking out from the top of the man's head, his face buried in her. Her hands were over her head and her eyes were closed.
"Let's talk over there," he suggested, taking the book from her and pointing to a bean bag by the fire. He turned off the light and joined her; the two of them nestled together thigh to thigh.
