Chapter 4: Warming Up
Following Stuart along the upper landing, Fran's breathing was becoming more, and more irregular, as her apprehension threatened to take control. The two love eggs, now nestled deeply within her vagina, rubbed together causing the tiny ball bearings encased in the two spheres, to send small pulsating vibrations through her whole body.
As they approached the stairway, Stuart stopped and turned around to face her. He had already descended the first few steps, so as he turned, his face became level with her pubis. Fran checked herself just in time before his head literally buried it's self between her legs.
"One other thing Madam" he said at last, "before we enter the dining room, may I make a suggestion?"
Without waiting for a reply, he put out his hands and parted the front of her dress; separating it at the split, and then re-buttoning it's edges to the tiny buttons at her hip. Now, Fran could see the purpose of the almost invisible buttonholes that she had noticed earlier. With the front of her dress now held open to the naval, she was completely uncovered for all eyes to see. Her long nylon encased legs, her creamy white thighs, and smoothly shaved genitals, all on display.
Her pulse now racing out of control, Fran was finding it difficult to control her nervous tension. She had never felt this much excitement before. Her whole body felt alive and vibrant, filled with sexual expectations. The feelings, emanating from between her legs, as she entered the dining room, were indescribable. She was hot... No she was more than hot...she was rampant!
"Ahh at last," greeted Larry, standing to greet her. " I see the dress fits...good, now come and eat, you must be famished."
Fran was shown to a chair at the far end of the table. Stuart, still in attendance, indicated for her to sit down, and then removed the crisp linen napkin from her place setting and placed it on her lap.
"I hope you enjoy Lobster?" enquired Larry, "it's fresh off the boat, more or less."
Fran was intelligent enough to know that he was reminding her of the episode earlier that afternoon. 'God' she thought, 'was it only this afternoon' so much seemed to have happened between then and now. There was so many question's that she needed to ask.
The meal arrived, and was enjoyed in complete silence. Fran had tried in vain to engage her host with trivial 'chit chat', but it became obvious, when she couldn't raise a response, that Larry was playing some sort of cat and mouse game with her. All the time that she was eating, he just sat there smiling, and staring across the table, with these big 'come to bed' eyes of his.
It wasn't until she had emptied her plate, that things began to happen. His mood seemed to change as though someone had thrown a switch. Gone was the charming smile, replaced now with more of a lecherous leer.
"Come here," he commanded.
Fran rose from her seat and walked over to the head of the table, noticing that he had pushed his chair back several feet. As she approached, he grabbed her gently by the waist and sat her on the edge of the table in front of him.
"Open your legs for me," he requested politely, adding, "open them wide."
Fran felt her heart fluttering, as she looked him full in the face, and obeyed. Larry sat down in his chair; bringing his face only inches away from her gaping crotch. Fran felt like such a slut, sitting there fully exposing herself to this mans gaze. Ok, she had flashed before, but this felt more like a clinical examination.
"Now we shall enjoy dessert," he said, as he gently started to caress the inside of her thighs, with the tips of his fingers. Gently he slid his hands, the full length of her nylon-clad legs, from her parted knees to the top of her groin, and then back again. Each time, stopping just short of her pubic region.
Fran closed her eyes, and bit her lower lip: a habit that seemed to have increased dramatically, since she had known this man. Each time his delicate hands reached the top of her legs she shuddered slightly. This in turn started the little balls inside of her to vibrate even more. She moaned softly with pleasure, her vaginal lips now swollen and moist, longed to feel his touch.
As though reading her thoughts, he bent over and sliding his hands beneath her buttocks, lowered his head between her legs. Fran's whole being tingled under his expert touch. Small electric shocks seemed to run through her body as she felt his tongue darting in and out, in search of her clitoris. Placing her hands on the polished wood of the table behind her, for support, she arched her back, forcing her pussy harder onto his face.
She felt his teeth gently nibbling at her inner lips, pulling them, teasing them. His strong hands, gripping the cheeks of her buttocks, held her tightly in place, less she should try to escape. Escape was the last thing on her mind. Fran was in the throes of blissful delight. Each caress, each nibble from his lips brought her nearer and nearer to climax. Then the sensations stopped, only to be replaced by newer ones, as he gripped the small piece of blue and white string that dangled from her vagina, and pulled at it with his teeth. He raised his head, the two chrome spheres dangling from his mouth, like a cat that had caught a mouse.
He removed the love eggs and offered them up to Fran's pouting lips. "Lick them," he commanded, "experience the sweetness of erotica."
Fran's tongue lapped at the two balls eagerly, tasting her own juices. The sensation was not as unpleasant as she first thought. The vulgarity made her feel wicked, and with the wickedness, came her first orgasm. She moaned out loudly, her thighs twitching. Her clitoris, now much too sensitive to the touch, pulsated in rhythm to his lapping tongue.
