She just asked you to go to a play with her, not go to bed with her
, I also repeated.
The play was wonderful, and Vanessa's company was absolutely delightful. From the dinner we enjoyed before the show (thanks, Paul Flemming, for making our evening magical) to a cocktail at a great little underground jazz club in Tempe, our evening was magical. I was sorry that it had to end, and when it did I gave Vanessa a tender hug and let her into her house. That's right, no kiss. Hey, I'd seen what happened to those who made the mistake of thinking that it wasn't sexual harassment just because it wasn't business hours! I'd been invited to a play, had enjoyed it immensely, but at no point had either of us referred to it as a "date". Call me a coward if you will, but my appreciation for the credo of "who dares, wins" stopped well short of the line where I would risk my job.
Evidently, though, I had done something right that night, for the next weekend saw me spending time with Vanessa yet again. In fact, the following weeks contained more and more instances where she and I would be spending time with each other. From hiking the trails around the Phoenix Valley, or climbing Camelback Mountain, to even taking a leisurely stroll around Arizona State University's campus (if you've never been there, I recommend it; the architecture is
amazing!
), the two of us were sharing more of our "personal" time with each other…though you'd never know it to see the two of us at work. I was still very aware that I could be walking a very fine line, and didn't want to suddenly rush ahead and ruin a budding relationship, a wonderful friendship and possibly my career all at the same time.
Things finally came to a head, though, when Vanessa and I took a drive to the observation point at South Mountain, where the lights of Phoenix, as well as the rest of the valley, were spread out before us. As we sat there atop a low wall, Vanessa nestled into my arms, I suddenly found her turning toward me, our lips touching as she leaned in again for what was the start of many a passionate kiss. Perhaps I'm a romantic, but for me there was nothing else in the entire universe at that point. I took no notice of the view, saw no lights, heard no sounds, felt nothing whatsoever aside from Vanessa in my arms, her lips on mine, our tongues darting and dancing as we sampled each other after so long. Eventually we came back to reality, and our brief conversation put us firmly on a "dating" footing.
Dating Vanessa was something I was not entirely prepared for, though even now, looking back, I don't regret that part of our relationship a bit. We hadn't really discussed our private lives up to that point; however, I did know that she had two children from a previous marriage, and that her family was from the valley. As we moved forward, I began taking on a role within her family, and spending plenty of time with her two boys. Mark was eight years old, and rather precocious, while his little brother, Sam, was four (and rapidly approaching five). I also got to know her parents quite well. In fact, I soon was calling her mother, "Mom" within the first two weeks of our newly-expanded relationship, and her sister April (who lived in Tucson) and I seemed to hit it off on those rare occasions when she'd drive up to visit her family. From trips to the zoo, to movies at the local mega-plex, or even just playing in the backyard, I was loving the life that came with being a semi-surrogate father. The boys, while spending time with their biological father, seemed to bond with me…and I with them, as well.
Months went by, and our relationship continued to grow. Those times we could get for ourselves were cherished, and we actively explored each other. To that end, "Mom" was a godsend. For whatever reason, she'd considered me a member of the family from the moment I had been introduced, and took both Mark and Sam for an evening pretty much whenever we might ask. It led to a greatly heightened sense of intimacy between the two of us, and led to more than one memorable moment. To give you some idea of where we were as a couple, let me share this with you:
I had invited Vanessa and the boys to my condo for an afternoon of playing in the gigantic pool that the complex had opted to build. My "condo" had originally been designed as a luxury apartment, but due to the local demographics that market had failed to catch on. But by going condo, however, they had managed to sell the properties (and make back their investment), while still offering the amenities that had been planned-for from the get-go. For me, that meant access to a wonderful gym, a vast pool, sauna, and several hot tubs. For the kids, it meant an afternoon of playing until they were too tired to go on.
Vanessa and I took the exhausted children back to my place, where we put them to bed in my room. I'm a softy, I'll admit it; I stopped as I was closing the door to just enjoy the angelic look of peaceful exhaustion on their sleeping faces. Vanessa, however, had other ideas. As I closed the door and made my way down the hallway, she suddenly grabbed me and pushed me against the hallway wall. I was shocked, and pleasantly so, when she suddenly got this fierce look on her face and, grabbing the front of my shirt, looked deeply into my eyes and said, "fuck me,
now
!" just before she reached up on tiptoe and kissed me.
I didn't need to be told twice. Quickly bending down, I scooped her into my arms and carried her into my living room – the farthest point either of us could be from the boys, yet still be in the apartment with them. Laying her on the sofa, I began tracing kisses along the angle of her jaw, while my hands gently caressed their way down the front of her top, opening the bikini ties whenever they weren't teasing her body. Slowly, my hands inched their way from her shoulders to her breasts, exploring first the top, then the sides of her sensitive flesh, before tracing gentle circles inward to her already-aroused nipples. At each gasp of breath from her, I'd switch from gentle kisses to lightly nibbling whatever exposed area of flesh I happened to be in contact with at that moment. Back and forth, over and over, my hands seeming to act of their own will, while my lips, teeth and tongue kept stoking the fire within her.
Item by item, her clothes were rapidly becoming a small pile on my floor, and at long last I began my journey past her belly button. If she thought I had been teasing her before, I was positively Machiavellian in my exploration of her hips, legs, and (at long last) her now very-moist and sensitive pussy. Oh sure, there are those who will insist on calling it by its clinical term (vagina), or who want to take the vulgar approach and refer to it as a cunt; for me, that supremely enjoyable part of a woman has been – and will continue to be – a pussy. I've heard it called that by pretty much every woman I've been lucky enough to date, so you'll have to forgive me if the term seems trite. It's what I'm going to use, whether you like it or not.
Vanessa, by the time my tongue had finished tracing gentle circles down one leg, and back up the other, was clutching my hair and trying her hardest to guide my head (and that teasing tongue of mine) to her very aroused and positively leaking pussy. Allowing her to think she had accomplished her goal, I began tracing my way along her outer labia, lapping up those few juices which had managed to make their way that far as she squirmed under my previous oral onslaught. Up and down, again and again, coming close – tantalizingly close – to her clitoris, but always stopping just short of that hyper-sensitive bud. Pausing only long enough to take another quick breath, I then shifted my attention to her inner labia, lightly flicking that sensitive flesh as I made my way over each and every inch of exposed flesh before extending my tongue and dipping it as deeply as possible into her copiously-leaking pussy itself. Again and again, I approached her clit, leading her closer to her release before running by tongue back downward, into her honey pot…and occasionally dropping below even further, to gently tease and stimulate that small portion of skin between her pussy and ass.
Vanessa was climbing the walls, metaphorically speaking. On the one hand, I was doing my utmost to prolong her arousal, and to ensure that when she finally did reach her release, that it would be cataclysmic. On the other, she was (even then) very aware that her two young boys were out cold in a room no more than 30 feet away from us. Trying to keep her reactions as quiet as possible was providing yet another source of arousal for her. If you disagree, just try to NOT think of something, say a puppy, for example, for five minutes. The odds are, you've already thought of a puppy, just by trying not to!
But all good things must come to an end, and my slow build-up with Vanessa was reaching that point. Once again tracing my way upward toward her now quite distended clit, I continued upward, gently wrapping my lips around that engorged and positively hot portion of flesh. While my tongue darted around the outside of that tiny mass, and then along the ridge of it, my lips were providing suction and I began a gentle humming that had her quickly grabbing a pillow from the couch to cover as much of her head as possible with. It was the moment for which I had been waiting, because at that point I inserted my middle finger, rubbing along the front wall of her pussy…stimulating her G-spot. Her muffled moans became more strident, coming with greater frequency, and at last, when I felt her pussy beginning to contract on the finger now gently circling along her Graftenberg spot, I suddenly stopped licking, sucking and humming – and, lifting my head ever so slightly, blew a warm (yet forceful) breath onto her again-exposed clitoris.
Vanessa's hips arched off the couch, while her pussy did everything it could to drag the rest of my hand in to join the finger giving her so much pleasure. Her juices were flowing, and it was all I could do to lap up as much of them as I possibly could – no mean feat, considering just how much her body was thrashing around at that point! Eventually, her orgasm subsided, and after several minutes of my simply holding her, I stepped out of my trunks and gently lowered her onto my aching rod. Inch by inch, gravity drew her downward until we both were on the floor, seated, her atop me while her legs wrapped around my back. My legs were bent in front of me, as if for yoga, and by raising and lowering my knees, I provided the movement for the both of us. We were both in ecstasy at that point, and with the position we were in, our difference in height meant that we were face-to-face. There was plenty of kissing, but otherwise we had settled into a slow, gentle rhythm which led her to one orgasm after another.
