V.
She smiled into his chest, and offered a quiet "Good morning!" in return. It was Sunday morning, and she was still in his home, and worse, in his bed, in his arms. Again. How was this even happening? She had arrived on Friday evening for dinner, after he had baited her — she realized it now, hindsight being 20/20 — and she was still here, recovering from yet another mind-blowing orgasm. She hadn't intended to stay on Friday evening, planning to take a cab home after dinner, and instead he had thoroughly seduced her. Not that it had been hard to do, she conceded, remembering his words when he had opened the front door at her ring.
"Wow! I hope my humble fare will satisfy your elegance, my lady!" He sketched her a deep bow, and they both laughed as he invited her into a warmly-lit foyer. Leading the way through his living room, he had urged her to drop her pocketbook on the couch and join him in the kitchen where he was putting the finishing touches to what turned out to be oven-baked meatballs. The spaghetti was al dente, the meat savory and delicious, and the red wine to accompany it all fruity and refreshing. His starter had been a hearty salad, and after their meal, she had complimented him on his expertise in the kitchen.
"My mother wouldn't have had it any other way," he told her, sipping his wine, and she had wondered what his mother would think if she knew her baby boy — he had told her he was the second son — was messing around a woman ten years his senior, divorced, the mother of twins half his age. She had asked the question, and his answer had shaken her.
"I'm not 'messing around', as you so inelegantly put it. I'm serious as a judge. And who I share my bed with is my business!"
Now she relaxed in his arms, listening to him breathe deeply under her ear. He had kissed her then, taking her by surprise. It had only been the second time he'd kissed her, the first having been a month earlier, after their first dinner date at a fancy eatery she had chosen, in an effort to piss him off, and maybe chase him away. As she had discovered, and was still discovering, though, he wasn't easy to discourage. Not only had he treated her to a wonderful and sinfully expensive meal, but he had taken her for a drive afterwards, when she said she wanted to see the harbor at night. The way his eyes had roamed over her, as they stood on the pier watching the boats in the distance, ought to have warned her she was in dangerous waters with him, but she had either been too sure of her ability to elude him, or too blind to his intentions to notice until it was too late, and he was pulling her in for a kiss she couldn't deny.
The thought of how she stumbled into his embrace as her knees buckled still made her cheeks warm, so thorough and passionate had been the kiss that had left them both breathless, and her aching for more. She had been wet and shaking by the time he stopped kissing her, and all the way back to her apartment, she had worried that he would take advantage of her in her current weakened state and she would sleep with him before she was ready to. So her shock when he had merely bussed her on the cheek at her front door and waited for her to close herself in had been complete. He confused her, and she didn't like feeling so off balance. And the fact of their age difference made her uncomfortable, which only compounded the feeling.
She thought she heard a chuckle and turned her face up to look at him. "What's funny?" she wondered aloud, startled that he had been watching her, and suddenly wishing she could read him better than she did.
"I can almost hear the wheels turning in your head, beautiful," he said, as if that explained everything. "Let's grab a shower together, okay? Maybe that will help you sort out your thinking."
"You just want to take me in the shower again," she answered, a reluctant chuckle escaping her.
He waggled his eyebrows at her. "That is certainly a delicious bonus of getting clean with you, yes." He rolled away from her and stood up. "Coming?"
He extended a hand, knowing she'd have a harder time holding the sheet around her nakedness if she kept a grip on it, and she wished she could feel irritated with him. But after two nights in his bed, all she could feel, aside from trepidation as she waited for the other shoe to drop, was the glow of a woman who was desired. He made her feel good, special, like a seductress. Even if she knew she wasn't. Taking his hand, she dragged the sheet up with her left hand, glad that it kept most of her chest and belly covered, though her legs flashed out at him every time she took a step.
"Lose the sheet, baby," he said, stopping suddenly halfway to the bathroom door. "I've seen it all, and I love how you look. Stop hiding from me."
She hated these moments of decision, all of which seemed to involve her letting go of another set of inhibitions. She had hoped he wouldn't bother, but she was getting to know him too well. Nothing escaped his notice. Gritting her teeth and sucking in her gut, even knowing it wouldn't make much difference to the swell of her belly over her mound, she let go of the sheet, and he helped her to step over it. Instead of turning to continue the rest of the way to the bathroom, though, he held his arms wide and studied her. She felt herself coloring up, her body heating from her chest outwards, upwards and down to her toes.
The first time he had surveyed her like this, she had been fully dressed, at their first lunch date. He had been prompt, which pleased her as her ex had always been the late arriver. The dress she wore was business smart and girly pretty at the same time — a soft, cool gray linen tunic with a narrow black belt, it shadowed her curves deliciously. She wore low-heeled sling-back sandals, in deference to the injury she had sustained that morning when she tripped over her own feet and bopped her ankle against the hard foot of the bed. The silver jewelry had been understated — a simple chain, long enough to settle between her breasts, with a crystal pendant, silver hoop earrings, a watch and signet ring. His eyes as he had watched her walk out of the building toward him had been heated with sensual recognition, as though he knew she liked being in the dress, as though he knew she felt sexy in it, as though he knew she wanted to show him she was more than a fearful, fat midlifer. His look undressed her, seduced her, ravaged her, and made her cheeks flush with color. She had straightened her shoulders even more then, thankful that she could maintain an outward calm while inside she was all aflutter.
That same look heated his eyes now, though she had not a stitch of clothing to cover her imperfections, no corset nor stockings, nothing to disguise what she was under her clothes. He dropped his arms and stepped into her space, crowding her, and when she went to back up, he stopped her with a hand at her back, low on her hip. When she stopped, he moved away a fraction.
"Do you remember when I stroked you here?" he asked suddenly, touching her just to the side of her breast, the spot tingling from his lingering touch. "Or when I licked you here?" He traced his fingers down her belly to her navel, an innie by default. She gasped at the simple pleasure his gentle touch shafted through her. "Or when I sucked on this?" He strolled his fingers back up to pinch her nipple and tweak it, before lowering his head to taste it.
She sucked in a breath, suddenly aware of every place on her body that he had explored in the last two nights in his bed. Her body felt as if it were on a slow burn, and he was barely touching her. She forgot to worry about what she looked like in the cruel light of day, because she was too busy keeping steady on her feet, concentrating on not sliding to the floor in a messy puddle of liquid desire. How he managed that she would never know, but it was always like this with him. She started out in control, ultra aware of her body, and by the end of the encounter, she was a mass of nerve endings and lust.
"I especially loved it when you let me kiss you here," he whispered, sending his questing fingers feathering over the lips of her sex. "These lips are so sweet, baby," he added, spreading them with two fingers, sliding between them, spreading the cream that had her wet there. "So full and ripe and ready for my mouth to devour them."
He leaned into her then, and she felt his erection pressing against her thigh. Her body went up in flames. She swayed, and he steadied her, keeping his fingers busy with her lower lips, while he took the ones close to his own in a fierce and hungry kiss. Coming up for air, he said,
"Put your arms around me, baby," and when she did, he picked her up and carried her back to bed.
"This can't wait till we shower. I need you now." His tone was sharp, needy, deep, and his eyes took her in one last time before he pushed her legs apart and plunged into her roughly. He rode her hard, and kissed her without mercy, and she was helpless before the sweeping passion that ruled him. She thrust up to meet him, giving him back kiss for kiss, and when he pulled out and rolled her onto her belly, raising her hips to meet his invading cock, she cried out as pleasure swamped her. He gripped her hips and rammed her, reaching around to fondle her clitoris till she broke and fell into a powerful orgasm. And still he fucked her, his rod still hard inside her, riding her wildly. When she came a second time, he pulled out again, lay back and pulled her over onto his legs, guiding his cock into her and thrusting up, breathless with desire.
