The Massage
The stars twinkled down from a crystal sky. The moon was a sliver,
illuminating nothing . . . making the shadows seem deeper. Our cars
sat silent in the driveway. The windows of the house were dark. A
hush had fallen over the scene. It was not long before the silence
was broken by the swish-swish of footsteps moving through the tall
grass. Two shadows broke apart from the others and moved to the side
door of the garage. The taller of the two fumbled in his pockets for
something. There was the jingle of keys and the door obediently
swung open. The shadows disappeared within. Vic flicked on the
lights, blinding both for a second. When Fiona could see again she
surveyed the scene, and said, "So, this is it?"
"Yep," Vic replied, "Be it ever so humble . . . and they don't come
much more humble than this." The interior of the garage appeared to
be a cross between a bedroom and a storage shed. Tools hung on the
wall . . . and by the door was a rather uncomfortable looking, low
bed . . . with a bicycle parked next to it.
Fiona noticed one of the tires was flat and smiled. At the other end
of the garage stood a computer desk complete with mandatory computer
and plenty of other stuff stacked on the shelves. Beside the
computer stand was a large stack of white boxes. She could see comic
book covers through the oval slits on the side.
The rest of the room was hard to describe. Various pieces of
furniture were stacked along the wall, and every horizontal surface
had something stacked on it. So much was stuffed into such a small
space that there was barely room to swing a cat. Fortunately there
were no cats available. Against the opposite wall a large standup
freezer hummed contently to itself. Finally she said, "This isn't
bad. It's a roof over your head." She looked up and saw something
strange. A mason jar . . . strung from a hook overhead . . .
with a cord running from it . . . nailed across the ceiling to a
light socket with a plug in it. "What is that?" Fiona asked. "Oh,
you'll like this," Vic said as he reached up and plugged in the
cord. Immediately the little jar lit up with some colored points of
light. Fiona gasped a little, in spite of herself. It was beautiful.
Then Vic reached out and unscrewed the other ceiling lights just
enough to put them out. The little jar cast a pale . . . subdued
glow about the room . . . like a tiny galaxy all alone. Deep, mellow
shadows surrounded them, making the room more cozy and warm. "That's
beautiful." She said quietly.
"Nothing special, just some Christmas lights I stuffed in there.
Works really well, I think," Vic replied.
He moved behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders, gently
massaging them and admiring the way the light brought out the
highlights in her beautiful long brown hair. Fiona closed her eyes
and smiled as a sigh escaped her, "That's nice." After a long moment
Vic stopped, rummaging through a sack on the table.
He pulled out a small plastic bottle. "I have to go get this heated
up first. You could, um, get undressed while I do that." He pulled a
towel from the dresser. "Is this fine?" "Perfectly fine." Fiona
said, accepting the towel, "You go ahead and do that. I'll be
waiting." "Okay," Vic said, with a little nervousness in his voice.
He closed the door quietly behind him and a moment later she heard
the back porch door open and close. 'Silly boy. What was he worried
about?' Fiona thought. She was surprised to find her heart was
beating a little faster than usual. She sat down on the bed, testing
it. Three inches of foam over a solid wood platform with a comforter
on top. It was just as uncomfortable as it looked. Probably
about the right softness for a massage table . . . except it was too
big . . . and too low. 'Oh, well, Vic said it would work fine.'
Fiona trusted his judgment. In the dim multicolored light she
quietly undressed. Standing nude in the middle of a man's
bedroom . . . she felt a little vulnerable and shivered . . .
goosebumps running down her arms and legs. Not too worried, though.
She felt she knew Vic well enough to trust him. But one could not be
100% sure until the moment of truth. Well, guess what time it was?
She shrugged off her concerns and laid down on the bed on her
stomach. She positioned the towel over her back so it covered her
from mid-thigh to her shoulder blades. Then she folded her arms
and rested her head on them, waiting patiently. Vic returned several
minutes later, bearing a large plastic bowl of steaming water, in
which the little bottle floated. He saw Fiona laying there on the
bed, her skin given a lovely golden sheen by the mood light. His
heart rate suddenly tripled as his mouth went dry.
'Jeez, get ahold of yourself, man!' he scolded himself. 'Be cool.'
He set the bowl down quietly on the table. "Hi," he
whispered. "Mmmm," Fiona replied, enjoying the peace of the moment.
Vic pulled off his shirt, asking her if she minded. "Mmmm-mmmm." she
replied distantly . . . vaguely wondering why he had to ask
so many questions . . . it was distracting.
Vic worked his fingers a little to loosen them up. Not that he
really needed to, but he did need to regain some of his composure.
Having a beautiful young woman laying all but naked on his bed was a
little unsettling. No matter, he would act professionally! After a
moment he felt more assured. He fished the bottle out of the bowl
and pulled the edge of Fiona's towel down to the middle of her
back. He squirted some of the massage oil on his hands and rubbed
them together.
Then he placed both hands on Fiona's shoulders just on either side
of the neck and went to work. This was not Fiona's first massage by
any means, and she could tell that Vic hadn't had much practice. He
used too much or too little pressure . . . not enough to hurt or
tickle . . . it was just uneven. Then she realized that while he
wasn't experienced he was indeed talented . . . his fingers
instinctively sought out the tension in her muscles . . . and worked
them slowly out. It wasn't long before she felt like purring, as his
strong fingers slowly worked over her back muscles. Moving
downward . . . ever downward . . .Vic was out of shape. By the time
he reached the small of her back his fingers were aching. No problem
though . . . he just oiled his hands again . . gently placed
the heels of his palms side by side . . . and worked them along her
spine. He slowly ran them up her back . . . putting a little weight
behind them. He was rewarded with an "Oooohhh . . ." from Fiona and
did so again several times. Then he pulled the edge of the towel
back up over her back . . . swallowed hard . . . and gingerly
gripped the lower end of the towel . . .raising it up over her
back. It was a sight worth dying for. Fiona's ass was magnificent,
and he just had to stop a second to admire the smooth lines of her
form. She had great legs, too.
Then, embarrassed, Vic quickly reached for the bottle and oiled his
hands some more . . . hoping she hadn't noticed the lapse. Fiona had
noticed the pause and knew exactly what he was looking at. She
blushed a little . . . but she was also flattered. Her pulse
quickened and she felt a warmth begin to spread out within her . . .
starting out from a spot not too far from where he had been
massaging. Vic began working the muscles of her lower back with
gentle strength. His fingers worked down over her hips and around
until he had one beautiful ass cheek in each hand . . . which he
kneaded slowly.Vic wondered how Fiona would feel if she knew he had
a massive erection. He doubted she'd be surprised . . . but
who knew! Fiona's warmth was quickly fanned into a flame by his
gentle ministrations . . . though he didn't know it. Where he was
touching . . . and how he did it . . . was incredibly erotic . . .
and she hoped he'd spend extra time there. Ironically, he did. But
regrettably, he moved on down to her upper thighs and worked one leg
at a time with both hands. Vic moved slowly . . . working
every square inch with great care. The fire soon cooled, but by no
means did it go out. For either of them.
Finally Vic laid her other leg down and quietly said, "Okay, let's
turn over." A gentleman to the end, he closed his eyes and picked up
the towel. Fiona rolled over and took the towel from him,
positioning it modestly. For a brief second she toyed with the idea
of tossing it aside . . . but better judgment prevailed. For the
first time she saw the dim golden light wash over his bare chest . .
. and noticed how thin he still was . . . so long after his
problems. A brief twinge of pity tugged at her heart, but it quickly
quieted. Thin or not, he was still not bad looking. Vic opened his
eyes to see she was looking at him. He smiled back as he began to
work the muscles over her lower legs. Soon he was working up to her
thighs. He raised the edge of the towel as high as he could. His
eyes were well adjusted to the light and he couldn't help noticing a
few pubic hairs poking from beneath the edge of the towel. He kept
his face bland in case she was watching him (not that he didn't want
to look) and concentrated on gently kneading the muscles of her
thighs. Fiona's eyes were closed as she concentrated on the powerful
sensation of his hands moving slowly up to her crotch. The fire had
returned and she felt her hips moving slightly in rhythm with his
hands. When his hands had moved all the way up . . . one knuckle
accidentally (or was it an accident?) brushed between the lips of
her pussy . . . making direct contact with her clit. She shuddered
at the explosion of pleasure that rocked her from the direct core of
her being. But suddenly, Vic stopped..
Fiona knew that Vic knew what had happened. Eyes still closed, she
waited to see what he would do next. 'Oh, shit,' James thought, 'it
was an accident (wasn't it?)', but he felt he had messed everything
up. He felt it was a violation of trust and for a second he
considered calling the whole thing off. But no, if she didn't say
anything, then why mess it up? She had promised to squawk if things
got uncomfortable and he didn't doubt she would. He pulled the hem
of the towel down, with more than a little regret. Then he gently
worked the muscles of her hand. How tiny it looked in the palm of
his hand! For a brief moment he was flooded with an emotion that had
nothing to do with sex, then he got back in control. All the trust
she had placed in him seemed represented by her limp hand in his,
and he suddenly felt fiercely protective of her. 'Oh, knock that
shit off!' he scolded himself again. He had no business feeling this
way. 'Put it away and concentrate on the work at hand.' He gently
kneaded the muscles of her forearm and upper arm, and then leaned
over to work the other one. Finally, he placed his thumbs on her
temples and massaged the muscles there. Then he sat back, massaging
his own aching hands. He needed to build up the muscles more if he
did this often. He had hoped he would be doing this often. A long
moment of silence stretched between them.
Finally Fiona stirred and sighed, "That was wonderful." Vic
replied, "Well, I do try," as he reached down to gently stroke her
arm. He ran his fingers lightly up to her throat. She tilted her
head back as he traced the line of her jaw. A smile crossed her
lips . . . small but very large in meaning. Almost before he
knew what he was doing, Vic leaned down and kissed her. Their lips
met for an endless, passionate moment, that ended much too soon.
When they parted he saw she was looking up at him, and he knew she
was feeling the same things as he.
Fiona reached up and caressed his chest. "That was nice. Let's do it
again." So he kissed her again, their tongues meeting in an intimate
embrace. This time he didn't break contact, but instead traced his
lips down her jaw line to the hollow of her throat. She giggled a
little at the tingling sensation this caused. But Vic did not stop
there. Taking his time, he explored the lovely lines of her
collarbone . . . then moved down with slow, exquisite deliberation.
He moved the hem of the towel down until both her breasts were left
exposed. The nipples stood proudly . . . stiff and hard. He took one
in his mouth and the other in his hand. Fiona gasped and squirmed at
the waves of pleasure that swept over her.
Vic used teeth and tongue gently to bring her to even higher
plateaus. Her hands roamed over his back, sometimes clenching and
leaving light scratches. After a while Vic stopped.
With a contemptuous flick of the wrist, Vic whipped the towel away.
Fiona was startled by the action, but his smile reassured her. With
his mouth, he traveled down her belly, pausing a moment at her
navel. Then onward again, down to the dark triangle of her pubic
hair. The hair was very soft . . . he rubbed his face
against if for a minute . . . wondering what she must think of that.
He moved downward a little more, teasing her inner thighs with
little licks and nibbles.
With a gentle hand he parted her thighs and brought his mouth to the
very center of her pleasure. His tongue flicked out and teased the
folds of flesh . . . then moved in between them . . . quickly
finding that one very special spot. More waves of pleasure overcame
her . . . much more intense than the first . . . threatening to
overwhelm her senses. Fiona gasped and shuddered, astonished at
the intensity of the feelings. Within moments the pleasure had
advanced to true sexual lust that began to build and swell.
Relentlessly Vic drove her to the point of orgasm . . . and with a
jolt she came with more force than she imagined possible . . . the
pleasure exploding in a trillion fragments of feeling . . .
filling her entire body with waves of intense pleasure. For a long
moment, Fiona's body tensed . . . muscles hard as iron . . . then
all tension drained out like water . . . and she collapsed on the
bed, utterly exhausted.
Vic collapsed beside her, holding and stroking her gently. In a
breathless voice she said, "My God. How did you...?" He
shrugged, "I'm not really sure, actually. I just go ahead and do
it." "You sure did it right!" Fiona said, and hugged him close to
her . . . muscles still shivering from the release. She felt his
hardness press against her stomach, still covered by his jeans. She
tugged at his belt and said, "Considering the intimacy of the
moment, aren't those kind of out of place?" Without a word Vic
stripped off his pants and hugged Fiona close again. The feeling of
skin against skin was exquisite. Her breasts pressed hard against
his chest, and generated more sexual heat. She was surprised how
fast she was recovering . . . and how much she wanted more. She
roamed over his ass with her free hand, feeling it's firmness. He
was doing roughly the same thing, as she noticed. Then she reached
around and grasped his cock . . . a little surprised at its size and
hardness.
Fiona pressed her hips against Vic's and was more surprised at the
spark of sexual energy that exploded in her. There was just one
little detail that needed taking care of. "So, where do you keep
the, um?" she asked. "Um's the word," Vic chuckled, reaching
somewhere over her head and pulling open a drawer. He retrieved a
small cellophane package, which he tore open with more than a little
difficulty ("Damn high-security bulletproof plastic!"). From the
package, he triumphantly extracted a condom. "I knew it was in
there!" Vic quipped. After they stopped their nervous giggling he
offered it to her, "Would you like to do the honors?" Fiona gingerly
took the condom and placed it over the tip of his cock . . . slowly
rolling it down along it's rigid length. The pale rubber stood out
against the golden sheen of his skin and it looked damn funny . . .
producing more giggles. Then they embraced again, until he rolled
over on top of her. Their eyes met . . . and he once again thought
about how dark and mysterious and beautiful her eyes were. In a soft
voice she said, "Please be gentle." His reply was, "Have I been
anything but?" Vic silenced Fiona's fears with a last, lingering
kiss. Then he positioned his cock and slowly, inserted it. Because
Fiona was so wet and well lubricated, he was all the way inside in
little time, grinding his hips against hers. For Fiona, the pleasure
returned, faster and more intense than before. It felt so damn good
to have him inside of her, so right! She never wanted it to end.
Vic's thrusts were very deliberate and slow . . . in and out.
Propped on one elbow and running his free hand along her bare side,
Vic felt Fiona moving under him . . . in time to his movements . . .
as well as sensing her breath warmly on his cheek. It was a passing
moment of great power and beauty. He wished it could last forever,
but of course, nothing lasts forever. Too soon . . . it seemed . . .
the pleasure built in both of them until orgasm was inevitable. They
both began to cum together in a fury of gasps and moans . . .
holding each other so tightly as to almost become one . . .poised
for one brief and glorious second on a much higher plain than this
one . . . before returning to the real world . . . elated and
exhausted. Silently they laid together for a long, long time . . .
enjoying the warmth and closeness . . . and each other's touch.
Quietly, Fiona said, "Thank you."
"Well, thank you too." Vic whispered, hugging her tightly to him.
Again, more silence. Eventually he spoke, "Fiona?" "Yes?" she
mumbled, somewhere between waking and sleeping. "There's something I
been wanting to tell you. I . . ." Vic froze. "What?" she asked as
she looked up at him, awake now. "I . . ." he started
again, "Um . . ." he continued, finally he shook his head and
finished lamely, "I guess I must be tired." Fiona turned away, with
a bitter disappointment. "Me too," she said, softly. Maybe later he
would be able to say what he was feeling. Maybe. But Fiona didn't
have much energy left for wondering . . . and soon both of them were
deeply asleep . . .
illuminating nothing . . . making the shadows seem deeper. Our cars
sat silent in the driveway. The windows of the house were dark. A
hush had fallen over the scene. It was not long before the silence
was broken by the swish-swish of footsteps moving through the tall
grass. Two shadows broke apart from the others and moved to the side
door of the garage. The taller of the two fumbled in his pockets for
something. There was the jingle of keys and the door obediently
swung open. The shadows disappeared within. Vic flicked on the
lights, blinding both for a second. When Fiona could see again she
surveyed the scene, and said, "So, this is it?"
"Yep," Vic replied, "Be it ever so humble . . . and they don't come
much more humble than this." The interior of the garage appeared to
be a cross between a bedroom and a storage shed. Tools hung on the
wall . . . and by the door was a rather uncomfortable looking, low
bed . . . with a bicycle parked next to it.
Fiona noticed one of the tires was flat and smiled. At the other end
of the garage stood a computer desk complete with mandatory computer
and plenty of other stuff stacked on the shelves. Beside the
computer stand was a large stack of white boxes. She could see comic
book covers through the oval slits on the side.
The rest of the room was hard to describe. Various pieces of
furniture were stacked along the wall, and every horizontal surface
had something stacked on it. So much was stuffed into such a small
space that there was barely room to swing a cat. Fortunately there
were no cats available. Against the opposite wall a large standup
freezer hummed contently to itself. Finally she said, "This isn't
bad. It's a roof over your head." She looked up and saw something
strange. A mason jar . . . strung from a hook overhead . . .
with a cord running from it . . . nailed across the ceiling to a
light socket with a plug in it. "What is that?" Fiona asked. "Oh,
you'll like this," Vic said as he reached up and plugged in the
cord. Immediately the little jar lit up with some colored points of
light. Fiona gasped a little, in spite of herself. It was beautiful.
Then Vic reached out and unscrewed the other ceiling lights just
enough to put them out. The little jar cast a pale . . . subdued
glow about the room . . . like a tiny galaxy all alone. Deep, mellow
shadows surrounded them, making the room more cozy and warm. "That's
beautiful." She said quietly.
"Nothing special, just some Christmas lights I stuffed in there.
Works really well, I think," Vic replied.
He moved behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders, gently
massaging them and admiring the way the light brought out the
highlights in her beautiful long brown hair. Fiona closed her eyes
and smiled as a sigh escaped her, "That's nice." After a long moment
Vic stopped, rummaging through a sack on the table.
He pulled out a small plastic bottle. "I have to go get this heated
up first. You could, um, get undressed while I do that." He pulled a
towel from the dresser. "Is this fine?" "Perfectly fine." Fiona
said, accepting the towel, "You go ahead and do that. I'll be
waiting." "Okay," Vic said, with a little nervousness in his voice.
He closed the door quietly behind him and a moment later she heard
the back porch door open and close. 'Silly boy. What was he worried
about?' Fiona thought. She was surprised to find her heart was
beating a little faster than usual. She sat down on the bed, testing
it. Three inches of foam over a solid wood platform with a comforter
on top. It was just as uncomfortable as it looked. Probably
about the right softness for a massage table . . . except it was too
big . . . and too low. 'Oh, well, Vic said it would work fine.'
Fiona trusted his judgment. In the dim multicolored light she
quietly undressed. Standing nude in the middle of a man's
bedroom . . . she felt a little vulnerable and shivered . . .
goosebumps running down her arms and legs. Not too worried, though.
She felt she knew Vic well enough to trust him. But one could not be
100% sure until the moment of truth. Well, guess what time it was?
She shrugged off her concerns and laid down on the bed on her
stomach. She positioned the towel over her back so it covered her
from mid-thigh to her shoulder blades. Then she folded her arms
and rested her head on them, waiting patiently. Vic returned several
minutes later, bearing a large plastic bowl of steaming water, in
which the little bottle floated. He saw Fiona laying there on the
bed, her skin given a lovely golden sheen by the mood light. His
heart rate suddenly tripled as his mouth went dry.
'Jeez, get ahold of yourself, man!' he scolded himself. 'Be cool.'
He set the bowl down quietly on the table. "Hi," he
whispered. "Mmmm," Fiona replied, enjoying the peace of the moment.
Vic pulled off his shirt, asking her if she minded. "Mmmm-mmmm." she
replied distantly . . . vaguely wondering why he had to ask
so many questions . . . it was distracting.
Vic worked his fingers a little to loosen them up. Not that he
really needed to, but he did need to regain some of his composure.
Having a beautiful young woman laying all but naked on his bed was a
little unsettling. No matter, he would act professionally! After a
moment he felt more assured. He fished the bottle out of the bowl
and pulled the edge of Fiona's towel down to the middle of her
back. He squirted some of the massage oil on his hands and rubbed
them together.
Then he placed both hands on Fiona's shoulders just on either side
of the neck and went to work. This was not Fiona's first massage by
any means, and she could tell that Vic hadn't had much practice. He
used too much or too little pressure . . . not enough to hurt or
tickle . . . it was just uneven. Then she realized that while he
wasn't experienced he was indeed talented . . . his fingers
instinctively sought out the tension in her muscles . . . and worked
them slowly out. It wasn't long before she felt like purring, as his
strong fingers slowly worked over her back muscles. Moving
downward . . . ever downward . . .Vic was out of shape. By the time
he reached the small of her back his fingers were aching. No problem
though . . . he just oiled his hands again . . gently placed
the heels of his palms side by side . . . and worked them along her
spine. He slowly ran them up her back . . . putting a little weight
behind them. He was rewarded with an "Oooohhh . . ." from Fiona and
did so again several times. Then he pulled the edge of the towel
back up over her back . . . swallowed hard . . . and gingerly
gripped the lower end of the towel . . .raising it up over her
back. It was a sight worth dying for. Fiona's ass was magnificent,
and he just had to stop a second to admire the smooth lines of her
form. She had great legs, too.
Then, embarrassed, Vic quickly reached for the bottle and oiled his
hands some more . . . hoping she hadn't noticed the lapse. Fiona had
noticed the pause and knew exactly what he was looking at. She
blushed a little . . . but she was also flattered. Her pulse
quickened and she felt a warmth begin to spread out within her . . .
starting out from a spot not too far from where he had been
massaging. Vic began working the muscles of her lower back with
gentle strength. His fingers worked down over her hips and around
until he had one beautiful ass cheek in each hand . . . which he
kneaded slowly.Vic wondered how Fiona would feel if she knew he had
a massive erection. He doubted she'd be surprised . . . but
who knew! Fiona's warmth was quickly fanned into a flame by his
gentle ministrations . . . though he didn't know it. Where he was
touching . . . and how he did it . . . was incredibly erotic . . .
and she hoped he'd spend extra time there. Ironically, he did. But
regrettably, he moved on down to her upper thighs and worked one leg
at a time with both hands. Vic moved slowly . . . working
every square inch with great care. The fire soon cooled, but by no
means did it go out. For either of them.
Finally Vic laid her other leg down and quietly said, "Okay, let's
turn over." A gentleman to the end, he closed his eyes and picked up
the towel. Fiona rolled over and took the towel from him,
positioning it modestly. For a brief second she toyed with the idea
of tossing it aside . . . but better judgment prevailed. For the
first time she saw the dim golden light wash over his bare chest . .
. and noticed how thin he still was . . . so long after his
problems. A brief twinge of pity tugged at her heart, but it quickly
quieted. Thin or not, he was still not bad looking. Vic opened his
eyes to see she was looking at him. He smiled back as he began to
work the muscles over her lower legs. Soon he was working up to her
thighs. He raised the edge of the towel as high as he could. His
eyes were well adjusted to the light and he couldn't help noticing a
few pubic hairs poking from beneath the edge of the towel. He kept
his face bland in case she was watching him (not that he didn't want
to look) and concentrated on gently kneading the muscles of her
thighs. Fiona's eyes were closed as she concentrated on the powerful
sensation of his hands moving slowly up to her crotch. The fire had
returned and she felt her hips moving slightly in rhythm with his
hands. When his hands had moved all the way up . . . one knuckle
accidentally (or was it an accident?) brushed between the lips of
her pussy . . . making direct contact with her clit. She shuddered
at the explosion of pleasure that rocked her from the direct core of
her being. But suddenly, Vic stopped..
Fiona knew that Vic knew what had happened. Eyes still closed, she
waited to see what he would do next. 'Oh, shit,' James thought, 'it
was an accident (wasn't it?)', but he felt he had messed everything
up. He felt it was a violation of trust and for a second he
considered calling the whole thing off. But no, if she didn't say
anything, then why mess it up? She had promised to squawk if things
got uncomfortable and he didn't doubt she would. He pulled the hem
of the towel down, with more than a little regret. Then he gently
worked the muscles of her hand. How tiny it looked in the palm of
his hand! For a brief moment he was flooded with an emotion that had
nothing to do with sex, then he got back in control. All the trust
she had placed in him seemed represented by her limp hand in his,
and he suddenly felt fiercely protective of her. 'Oh, knock that
shit off!' he scolded himself again. He had no business feeling this
way. 'Put it away and concentrate on the work at hand.' He gently
kneaded the muscles of her forearm and upper arm, and then leaned
over to work the other one. Finally, he placed his thumbs on her
temples and massaged the muscles there. Then he sat back, massaging
his own aching hands. He needed to build up the muscles more if he
did this often. He had hoped he would be doing this often. A long
moment of silence stretched between them.
Finally Fiona stirred and sighed, "That was wonderful." Vic
replied, "Well, I do try," as he reached down to gently stroke her
arm. He ran his fingers lightly up to her throat. She tilted her
head back as he traced the line of her jaw. A smile crossed her
lips . . . small but very large in meaning. Almost before he
knew what he was doing, Vic leaned down and kissed her. Their lips
met for an endless, passionate moment, that ended much too soon.
When they parted he saw she was looking up at him, and he knew she
was feeling the same things as he.
Fiona reached up and caressed his chest. "That was nice. Let's do it
again." So he kissed her again, their tongues meeting in an intimate
embrace. This time he didn't break contact, but instead traced his
lips down her jaw line to the hollow of her throat. She giggled a
little at the tingling sensation this caused. But Vic did not stop
there. Taking his time, he explored the lovely lines of her
collarbone . . . then moved down with slow, exquisite deliberation.
He moved the hem of the towel down until both her breasts were left
exposed. The nipples stood proudly . . . stiff and hard. He took one
in his mouth and the other in his hand. Fiona gasped and squirmed at
the waves of pleasure that swept over her.
Vic used teeth and tongue gently to bring her to even higher
plateaus. Her hands roamed over his back, sometimes clenching and
leaving light scratches. After a while Vic stopped.
With a contemptuous flick of the wrist, Vic whipped the towel away.
Fiona was startled by the action, but his smile reassured her. With
his mouth, he traveled down her belly, pausing a moment at her
navel. Then onward again, down to the dark triangle of her pubic
hair. The hair was very soft . . . he rubbed his face
against if for a minute . . . wondering what she must think of that.
He moved downward a little more, teasing her inner thighs with
little licks and nibbles.
With a gentle hand he parted her thighs and brought his mouth to the
very center of her pleasure. His tongue flicked out and teased the
folds of flesh . . . then moved in between them . . . quickly
finding that one very special spot. More waves of pleasure overcame
her . . . much more intense than the first . . . threatening to
overwhelm her senses. Fiona gasped and shuddered, astonished at
the intensity of the feelings. Within moments the pleasure had
advanced to true sexual lust that began to build and swell.
Relentlessly Vic drove her to the point of orgasm . . . and with a
jolt she came with more force than she imagined possible . . . the
pleasure exploding in a trillion fragments of feeling . . .
filling her entire body with waves of intense pleasure. For a long
moment, Fiona's body tensed . . . muscles hard as iron . . . then
all tension drained out like water . . . and she collapsed on the
bed, utterly exhausted.
Vic collapsed beside her, holding and stroking her gently. In a
breathless voice she said, "My God. How did you...?" He
shrugged, "I'm not really sure, actually. I just go ahead and do
it." "You sure did it right!" Fiona said, and hugged him close to
her . . . muscles still shivering from the release. She felt his
hardness press against her stomach, still covered by his jeans. She
tugged at his belt and said, "Considering the intimacy of the
moment, aren't those kind of out of place?" Without a word Vic
stripped off his pants and hugged Fiona close again. The feeling of
skin against skin was exquisite. Her breasts pressed hard against
his chest, and generated more sexual heat. She was surprised how
fast she was recovering . . . and how much she wanted more. She
roamed over his ass with her free hand, feeling it's firmness. He
was doing roughly the same thing, as she noticed. Then she reached
around and grasped his cock . . . a little surprised at its size and
hardness.
Fiona pressed her hips against Vic's and was more surprised at the
spark of sexual energy that exploded in her. There was just one
little detail that needed taking care of. "So, where do you keep
the, um?" she asked. "Um's the word," Vic chuckled, reaching
somewhere over her head and pulling open a drawer. He retrieved a
small cellophane package, which he tore open with more than a little
difficulty ("Damn high-security bulletproof plastic!"). From the
package, he triumphantly extracted a condom. "I knew it was in
there!" Vic quipped. After they stopped their nervous giggling he
offered it to her, "Would you like to do the honors?" Fiona gingerly
took the condom and placed it over the tip of his cock . . . slowly
rolling it down along it's rigid length. The pale rubber stood out
against the golden sheen of his skin and it looked damn funny . . .
producing more giggles. Then they embraced again, until he rolled
over on top of her. Their eyes met . . . and he once again thought
about how dark and mysterious and beautiful her eyes were. In a soft
voice she said, "Please be gentle." His reply was, "Have I been
anything but?" Vic silenced Fiona's fears with a last, lingering
kiss. Then he positioned his cock and slowly, inserted it. Because
Fiona was so wet and well lubricated, he was all the way inside in
little time, grinding his hips against hers. For Fiona, the pleasure
returned, faster and more intense than before. It felt so damn good
to have him inside of her, so right! She never wanted it to end.
Vic's thrusts were very deliberate and slow . . . in and out.
Propped on one elbow and running his free hand along her bare side,
Vic felt Fiona moving under him . . . in time to his movements . . .
as well as sensing her breath warmly on his cheek. It was a passing
moment of great power and beauty. He wished it could last forever,
but of course, nothing lasts forever. Too soon . . . it seemed . . .
the pleasure built in both of them until orgasm was inevitable. They
both began to cum together in a fury of gasps and moans . . .
holding each other so tightly as to almost become one . . .poised
for one brief and glorious second on a much higher plain than this
one . . . before returning to the real world . . . elated and
exhausted. Silently they laid together for a long, long time . . .
enjoying the warmth and closeness . . . and each other's touch.
Quietly, Fiona said, "Thank you."
"Well, thank you too." Vic whispered, hugging her tightly to him.
Again, more silence. Eventually he spoke, "Fiona?" "Yes?" she
mumbled, somewhere between waking and sleeping. "There's something I
been wanting to tell you. I . . ." Vic froze. "What?" she asked as
she looked up at him, awake now. "I . . ." he started
again, "Um . . ." he continued, finally he shook his head and
finished lamely, "I guess I must be tired." Fiona turned away, with
a bitter disappointment. "Me too," she said, softly. Maybe later he
would be able to say what he was feeling. Maybe. But Fiona didn't
have much energy left for wondering . . . and soon both of them were
deeply asleep . . .
