The Book Tour Ch 02

Note: Please consider reading the first chapter of this story.

It can be found here: http://www.literotica.com/s/the-book-tour

In the first chapter, Nathan and Marissa, in their mid 40's, rediscover each other after 25 years.

*****

Marissa and I spent the first few days of the tour locked down in our hotel rooms in Vancouver and Calgary. What I remember from those first few days are mainly images, sensations - Marissa's long black hair spilling down onto my face, hot water raining down onto our bodies in the shower, running my hands over her body as she dozed, tracing the 20 years of lost time into her skin with my fingertips.

At one point, lying on the bed in a pool of afternoon sunshine, with Marissa's head resting on my tummy, I asked her what we were doing, and what would come of all this. She lifted her face slightly, touched a finger to my lips, and gently silenced me. In hindsight, that moment speaks volumes, but at the time I didn't understand, as Marissa did all along, that those two weeks would be merely an interlude, a brief escape from daily life, and that the tour would, inevitably, end.

I didn't quite understand that then. I do now, though there is regret.

*

In Regina, Saskatchewan, after a reading at a coffee shop downtown with Mary and Steve, Marissa and I convinced ourselves not to run straight back to the hotel room, but to go out on the town. I took her to a restaurant recommended by my one single fan at the reading. Almost everyone who attended the readings during the tour were there for Marissa, some for Steve and his travel writing, a few for Mary and her foray into the vampire romance genre, and then I, the novelist, had a random fan or two here and there.

At the restaurant, Marissa and I drank wine, we ate well. We laughed and flirted. Marissa was dressed in black tights and a warm, tight-fitting, cowl necked sweater. I had a wine coloured dress shirt tucked into my jeans, an old hand me down tweed jacket. I enjoyed that night very much. In fact, I enjoyed every moment of those two weeks. It becomes rare, in your '40s, to feel like you are glowing with health, to feel vital. And that is how meeting Marissa again, and (after a lifetime of trying) getting published, made me feel - alive, vital, glowing. And, as it turns out, with the right acquaintances, in the mood to experiment.

After dinner we found our way to the river, holding hands. The Delta on Spadina Crescent loomed brightly in the dark night, a breeze making the tree branches sway above us. Marissa lifted our clasped hands to her lips, and kissed the back of my hand. "I want to stop in and see Eileen," she said. "I want to double check some details about tomorrow."

I nodded, but didn't say anything. It was already apparent that our young publicist was in awe of Marissa, and was taking most of her direction regarding the tour from the star of the show. I suppose it was understandable, and could have been expected. Marissa was probably Carlton House's most bankable author, and God knows what her colleagues and superiors at work had told Eileen about handling, or not trying to handle, Marissa - especially as this was Eileen's first solo publicity tour for the publishing house, handed the difficult task of shuttling four authors quickly across the country.

In the elevator, heading upstairs, I leaned against the wall, holding Marissa against me, my arms wrapped around and clasped at her tummy. I drank in the sense of her, the feel of her, buried my face in her hair. She caressed my forearms with her fingers, and teasingly pressed her gorgeous ass back against me. The chime rang as we reached our floor, and Marissa took my hand as she stepped out of my embrace. "Soon," she smiled, her eyes sparkling.

When Eileen answered her door, she gasped, startled to see Marissa before her, smiling radiantly. "Hello Marissa. Hello Nathan. How are you?"

"We're well, Eileen. We were just out enjoying the evening. I wondered if we might talk to you for a moment? I think there are two interviews tomorrow, and then we're travelling again. I just want to make sure everything is in order."

Eileen nodded, stepped aside, and Marissa stepped past her, pulling me along in her wake. The room had two Queen sized beds, separated by a few scant feet of space. A long dresser stood against the wall across from the bed, a TV sitting on top. The TV was off when we entered, and I noticed an open book lying on the bed, placed upside down to hold Eileen's spot as she answered the door. A small table and chair sat at the farthest end of the room, beneath the window which offered a view of the Saskatchewan River, the night sky.

Eileen had been reading in bed when we arrived, the covers and blankets turned aside as she'd risen to get the door. The small bedside light she'd been using was actually the only light on in the room. The other bed had not been touched, though it held a skirt and top which were presumably Eileen's choices for the next day. Marissa and I sat on the untouched bed, facing the one where Eileen had been reading. With evident uncertainty, Eileen sat down across from us. She was wearing a loose grey T shirt, and a pair of boxers. She held her hands clasped in her lap, and tried to look comfortable sitting across from Marissa.

"Eileen," I said, feeling a bit protective of the younger woman, who I guessed to be about 29, when Marissa and I were in our mid 40s. "Eileen, I just wanted to let you know that you're doing a really good job with the tour. Everything is going very well. And I kind of wanted to apologize for the way Marissa and I have been acting. We've made it a bit difficult for you."

Without quite saying so, I was referring to the way Marissa and I had been effectively locked into our rooms so far, and Eileen had had to pound on our door to get us to move and attend a few events.

Eileen, very nicely, told me to think nothing of it, that everything was fine, but Marissa reached across the small bit of space between the two beds and put her hand on Eileen's bare knee, and looked her straight in the eye as she said "Nathan's right, you are doing a wonderful job, and we haven't been the easiest people to deal with recently. We do apologize. Sincerely, Eileen, I apologize."

A moment of understanding passed between the two women, Eileen acknowledging that she had heard and understood Marissa. As she lifted her hand from Eileen's knee and sat comfortably beside me again, Marissa rested her hand on my leg. "Eileen, perhaps it will help if Nathan and I explain what happened, or actually didn't happen, 25 years ago, so that you'll understand how breathtaking it has been to meet each other again."

"Marissa, you don't have to do that..."

"We told you, and Steve and Mary, some of the story at breakfast that morning. But there's a bit more." Marissa paused, and looked at me, and squeezed my leg. "You don't mind, do you Nathan?"

"No," I said softly, wondering what exactly was coming over Marissa. "No, it's fine with me."

Marissa squeezed my leg tightly, and then ran her hand down to my knee and back, massaging me from knee to hip. She brushed her long, dark brown hair over her shoulder, and smiled as she looked at me. "Nathan and I circled each other in university," she said softly. "We were in classes together, and we happened to meet at the pool frequently. He was, well, much as he is today," she said. She leaned in and kissed my neck softly. "He was tall and fit, with something gentlemanly about him. Dark brown hair, a smile that held nuances that needed exploring, but he never truly let you explore, he just smiled at you and forced you to wonder what it was he was really thinking."

My hand had gone to Marissa's back. I massaged my palm warm up her spine, my fingers touching into her hair. "Marissa was so beautiful," I said. "And is so beautiful. At the pool - I never told you this Marissa - I'd watch as you pulled your swimcap from your head, your long hair spilling free, water glistening on your skin. So elegant, and athletic, and perfect. And in class so smart, so combative. I always wondered how you could be single. And since it seemed impossible that you were single, I assumed you were with someone."

"I sometimes was, and sometimes wasn't," she said playfully. "I actually was seeing someone at the time of Professor Brooker's party. I'd been with him for a few months I think."

I looked at Eileen. She was sitting poised and motionless on her bed, feet touching the floor, her hands on her knees. She was a tall and thin woman - perhaps 5'10, with small breasts and dirty blonde hair that reached just to her shoulders. "Are we going to tell Eileen about Brooker's party?" I asked, looking back to Marissa.

"I am," she answered.

In the dim pool of light cast by Eileen's reading lamp, Marissa told the story of Professor Brooker, who had invited a small handful of his favourite students to his house for a dinner party. "As fate would have it," she told Eileen, "Brooker's wife sat Nathan and I down beside each other at the table."

"And we'd already been looking at each other for years," I said.

"A long tablecloth hung over the edge of the table," Marissa continued. Her back straightened for a second, a wave of something crossing her face, as she remembered that night 20 some years ago. "I was wearing a dress, and Nathan jeans and a sweater."

"It was more than just a dress," I said softly. Talking about that night was starting to have an effect on me, and I shifted slightly on the bed, my voice a bit husky. "A tight evening dress that just barely concealed the fact that you were wearing stockings..."

"But you discovered that I was wearing stockings very quickly after we sat down," Marissa said, smiling.

"Yes. Yes, I did."

Marissa looked at Eileen, and then purposefully, or unconsciously, Marissa put her own hand down between her legs, her back arching and her shoulders shrugging as she massaged herself, with her forearm, once, then twice. "Our legs... both of us... we pressed them hard against each other under the table. It was so hot - so insanely hot, for such a small thing."

"My hand went to your leg," I said. "I brushed the backs of my fingers along what I thought were your pantyhose, and when you seemed to close your eyes and shudder slightly, I moved my hand between your legs, and brushed up into you, finding the edge of your stockings, and then your bare skin, and finding your skin, I stroked you there, with just my fingertips. Tiny strokes."

Marissa's forearm was still between her legs. She squirmed slightly on the bed as she pressed hard into herself again. My hand was still caressing up and down Marissa's back. I stole a glance at Eileen, sitting motionless on her bed, staring at us, her hands still on her bare knees, and if she was showing any emotion at all, it was just in the tenseness of her body, the whitening of her fingers as they dug into her own skin.

"Nathan, he, under the cover of the tablecloth, moved his hand, his fingers, to my panties. He rested the heel of his hand on me, and began stroking his three middle fingers up and down, over the material of my panties, against the lips of my pussy."

"Marissa barely reacted," I said. "A few times, she reached her hand down, and brushed her fingers against the back of my hand, but that was all. She was lifting her spoon towards her lips when I finally slid her panties aside, and put a fingertip directly inside her, stroking just inside her. I could see her quiver, see the spoon vibrate in the air, and after she took it in her mouth, and swallowed the taste of soup, she leaned towards me, and she whispered something... what was it you whispered, Marissa?"

"Oh God," Marissa half moaned, in the dim light of the hotel room. "I whispered

I want you to cum inside me

."

In the hotel room, with Marissa swelling up with lust beside me, and Eileen seemingly becoming more and more tense across from me, my cock became as hard as I can ever imagine it getting, beginning to drip precum into my briefs, soon to be staining my jeans. "Holy christ, Marissa," I whispered. "We should get back to my room, or your room."

Marissa answered by reaching over and putting her hand on the large bulge in my pants. She worked her hand against me warm and hard, and in spite of the reluctance I still felt, with Eileen sitting across from me and so obviously uncomfortable, my hand came up, cupping Marissa's breast through the thick warmth of her sweater.

For the first time, Eileen made a sound. "Oh jesus," she whispered faintly.

"And then," Marissa continued, finding her way back to that distant dinner party, "when we all finally rose, Nathan made a small show for me of licking his fingers clean. The fingers that had been stroking inside me. I took his hand in mine and dragged him from the room. We found a dark spare room near the upstairs bathroom, and Nathan picked me up and pushed me against the wall, his hands on my ass, kissing me so hard. Then he took me over and settled me down on the bed. He knelt down, down below me on the floor. He parted my legs and reached his hand up inside me..."

"Your arms were all over my shoulders, my head. Mauling me. Pulling me into you," I said. In the hotel room, my hand had dropped from Marissa's breast down between her legs, massaging my palm hot against her through her black tights. Marissa was almost purring now, and across from us, I saw Eileen lift her right hand from her knee, touch her fingers to her lips, brush some wisps of her blond hair back over her ear, touch her lips again, and then brush down over her right breast as her hand went back to her leg.

"And just as the fireworks were beginning to go off behind my eyes," Marissa said, "just as Nathan had lowered his face down between my legs, and had licked his way up my inner thigh, and had touched his tongue against my wet panties, the lights in the room went on, and our Professor's wife stepped in, and began screaming, and Nathan and I were asked to leave, and twenty years passed until I saw him again on Monday morning at breakfast. And he was still that Nathan from 20 years ago. Oh God Nathan," Marissa purred into my ear, "thank you for still being you."

"And on Monday morning in Vancouver," Eileen said quietly, speaking for the first time in what seemed quite a while, "after we finished breakfast, did you two find yourselves in that position again?"

"We did," Marissa said. "He had me sit on the bed, and he knelt down at my feet. He touched me first with his hand, his fingers, and then he did what I'd been dreaming of, what I'd been needing, for 20 years."

"Can I see?" Eileen asked, her forearm between her legs, squeezed between her thighs.

Marissa, with her hand on my stomach now, looked at me questioningly, but with eagerness sparkling in her eyes. I could feel her body throbbing with intensity beside me. "Eileen," I said. "Come here, and help me with my jacket, and then, if you'll help me, I'll show you what I did with Marissa that morning."

Eileen rose and placed one knee on the bed beside me. As I lifted my arms, she slid my tweed jacket free and off of me entirely. She placed it at the bottom of her bed, and then stood against me a second, her hand resting on my back just at the bottom of my neck.

"Take his shirt off, Eileen," Marissa whispered, sitting back slightly, leaning on one arm, watching us.

Eileen moved to my front, and I centered towards her, away from Marissa. Her hands went to the buttons running down my shirt. She undid them carefully, but with an eagerness creeping into her movements. A tall woman, she had to bend to reach even the ones at the top, and to do the bottom ones, she lowered herself all the way to her knees. As she did button after button, I noticed Marissa stirring beside me. She sat up on her knees on the bed, straightening her back as her hands went to the wide black belt around her waist. She undid the belt and let it fall aside, and then she pulled her cowl-neck sweater up and off her body.

With the buttons undone, Eileen pulled my shirt from me. Aware of my bare chest, and Marissa's sweater having been removed, I touched my hands to Eileen's waist, drawing her T-Shirt up and off her body. She shook her head, tossing her hair, as her arms and hands escaped from her shirt. She now knelt between my legs, her chest bare, her small breasts pert and delicious before me.

I reached out and cupped Eileen's left breast in my hand, massaging it gently. Eileen sighed deeply as I touched her, and I found her eyes moving over to Marissa, watching the older woman as Marissa watched her. Marissa stirred again, and I glanced towards her to watch as she reached her hands behind her and undid the hooks of her bra. Eileen and I both watched as the bra slid away revealing Marissa's beautiful, full, gorgeous tits. For a moment I wanted to fall into her, lower my wet mouth onto one of her breasts and suck it hot and deep into my mouth. But I remained still, and as Marissa looked from Eileen, to me, I smiled, and then playfully reached for Marissa's ankle and dragged her leg out from under her. She helped, falling backwards slightly, her legs still wrapped in black tights pointing out towards Eileen and the edge of the bed.

I leaned in to take the band of the tights in my fingers, and drew them down off Marissa's hips and thighs. Eileen took over to pull them down Marissa's calves and ankles and feet, as I drew Marissa's panties down off her legs as well. Marissa was naked and gorgeous before us now, her ass just on the bed, her legs over the edge, feet dangling down to the floor. Eileen was still kneeling on the floor, gazing up the length of Marissa's naked body. Sitting on the edge of the bed, I reached my hand to Marissa's pussy, just running my fingers through her curls of hair, brushing my fingertips lightly against her lips. I eased the length of my long middle finger just inside Marissa's outer lips, and stroked back forth, making slight contact on her clitoris. Marissa squirmed on the bed, a tiny gasp escaping her lips.

I slid down to the floor, and noticed that Eileen was still wearing the boxer shorts that she had been wearing when Marissa and I arrived. I moved close to her, my chest to hers, and lowered my lips to her neck, kissing her, licking her skin, kissing down towards her breasts. I put my hands on her hips and dragged her boxers down off her hips and off her ass, letting it slide to the floor. I cupped her bare ass cheeks in my hands as I bent my head further to kiss her left breast, sucking the nipple, opening my mouth wider to capture her small breast fully in my wet mouth.

"Eileen," Marissa said softly, watching us. "Reach down and undo his jeans, pull his cock out."

Eileen stretched her left hand down to the bulge in my pants. She pressed her hand hard against my cock, and massaged me back and forth through my jeans. Then she stretched her other hand down as well, and undid my belt, the button, and unzipped me. She reached her hand inside my briefs and took hold of my long swollen shaft, pulling it up and out of my briefs, pushing the waist band of my briefs down below my balls. As I continued to kiss her tits, sucking them wet and hungrily, she pressed and rolled the palm of her hand against the tip of my cock, lubricating her palm with my oozing precum, and then stroked her fist up and down my shaft, spreading my precum up and down the long swollen length of my cock.

"Oh my God," I groaned, briefly touching my forehead against Eileen's neck as she forcefully stroked her hand up and down my cock. I reached down and put my hand on hers to stop her. "You're going to make me cum," I said. "It's fabulous, but I want to save myself a bit longer. And...," I continued, reaching out to put my hand on Marissa's left knee, "I was going to show you something."