Posts Tagged ‘male-female’

“Sir, I’m going to need you to stand over to the side, please.”



“Is there a problem?” I asked, my stomach curling into a ball.



The agent looked at my passport again as she repeated, “Please, sir, just step over here,” motioning to a section of the floor which had been marked with tape and cordoned off with retractable queue ribbon.



I stepped into the square as requested while the tiny TSA agent with a bun of fiery red locks picked up my bag and tray of personal items off the conveyor belt.



“Where are you headed today, sir?” she asked



“Sydney.”



“Do you have business in Sydney, sir?” She was firm but courteous. All business.



“Yes.”



“And what kind of business are you in?”



“Telecommunications. Listen, is there some kind of problem?” I was starting to get anxious. I had done nothing wrong, had taken this trip at least a dozen times in as many years, and had never had any problems. Why today?



“It says that you are headed through Bangkok. Is that right?”



“Yes.”



“Well, sir the Bangkok airport has been closed since this morning.”



“What?”



“Yes, sir. Apparently there is some sort of protest that has turned violent so nothing is coming or going into that area.”



“Shit,” I mumbled.



“What was that, sir?” she demanded, clearly agitated.



“Oh…um…sorry.”



“Not at all. Gather your things, return to the ticket counter and straighten this out with the airline. Then come back here and let me know about your schedule.”



“What?! Why?!” This was ridiculous. What kind of police state is this, that the TSA needs to know my schedule?



“Listen!” I raised my voice. “I don’t know what you think…”



She cracked a smile, trying hard not to laugh apparently. She bit her lips, pinching them closed between her teeth as she looked at me, her shoulders starting to shake a little as she laughed.



“What’s so funny?” I asked, thoroughly confused.



“You don’t remember me, do you?” she asked, still smiling.



“Remember you from…”



She shook her head, still smiling. “Northbrook High, ’96.”



I tried to search for some recognizable feature. She sighed and rolled her eyes, handing me my passport. Making eyeglasses with her fingers, she said, “Picture me in cargo pants and no make-up.”



“A…priiiill?” I asked, unassuredly.



“You do remember!” She slapped my arm lightly, as if it were some sort of congratulations.



“Yeah. Kind of,” I nodded.



“Listen,” she said, digging a card out and writing on the back. “Here’s my contact info. Call me and maybe we can get a drink or dinner or something?” April looked uncertain



“Yeah, okay.” I remembered us being in a few classes together, but we were never close. She looked good, though, from what I could tell. Her uniform made her look kind of square, with the baggy blue shirt and dark cargo pants that covered her black boots. “I’ll let you know.”



“Let me know either way, okay. Don’t leave me hanging. Even if you don’t want to, call me and tell me, all right?”



I nodded and smiled. “Sure,” I said. She was cute. I would see if I could find her on Facebook and kind of dig up some more info.



She smiled and walked back to her post as I put my shoes back on and filled my pockets with my keys, wallet, phone, and change. Before I stood up to walk back to the ticketing counter, I looked over and she saw me, smiling and waving before turning back to wand the short woman with outstretched arms and bare feet.



“Yes, sir. I’m sorry. We just heard this morning about the Bangkok airport.”



“Well, I have to be in Sydney tomorrow. Can you get me there?” I was exasperated, but I also knew it wasn’t the young blonde’s fault and tried to keep my cool with her.



“Let me see….” She typed, paused, typed some more. “We may be able to get you there, but it will take you to Honolulu, to Seoul, then to Sydney, adding seven hours and… $300.”



“Of course! Dammit!”



“Sir, please watch your language.” She looked me dead in the eye as she demanded it.



“I’m sorry….Um, when does that flight leave?”



She looked again and said, “At 3:15.” That was four hours away.



“Let me call ahead and see what I can work out. Is there plenty of room to give me a few minutes?”



“Sure. It’s only two-thirds full.”



“Okay, thanks.”



I picked up my bag, stepped over to the window and set my bag down while I pulled out my phone. Scrolling down through my contacts I found Walt Folsom’s number and dialed.



“Foltec Solutions,” a friendly Australian woman answered, “Mr. Folsom’s office.”



“Adie, hi. Burton Hanks. Is Walt available?”



“Let me check, Mr. Hanks. Please hold.”



After about two minutes, Walt’s baritone voice with a thick accent barged into my ear. “Burt! How are ya?”



“Not good. My plane was supposed to pass through Bangkok, but the airport closed this morning due to riots or something. I can’t leave for another four hours and have to add several more hours to my trip. There’s no room for mistakes, so if there’s any delay on any leg of the flight, I’ll totally miss the meeting.”



“Oh, yeah? What do you need from me?”



“I don’t know. I can risk the flight and may be late or we can push the meeting to the next day just in case, or push it back even another day just to be sure. Or I can do the presentation over the network and not fly into Sydney at all.”



“I see…Look, I already have the board here this morning. They all flew in for this deal and we’re taking care of other business anyway. How do you feel about giving us a quick rundown over the network and meeting with us later this week, say Friday, late morning? That way we can get a general idea, go over the pricing and we can ask questions and possibly sign a contract on Friday. That would put us ahead of schedule if you treat us right.” He laughed as he said it, but he and I both knew the job was mine to lose. I’d been working with Foltec for fifteen years and we had a good rapport.



“Sure, that sounds great! Let me find the business suite here at the airport, set up my flight for tomorrow and I’ll call you right back.”



“Great. Call on my cell so we don’t have to bother Adie and I’ll go ahead and have IT set up the conference room for your presentation.”



“Thank you. I’ll call you back in a few minutes.”



We hung up and I set up my flight for tomorrow, which would put me into Sydney in plenty of time to land, rest up and make it to the meeting fresh. I went to the flight club that held my membership and asked about the business suite. Someone helped me set it up, creating a secure connection through their network, as I called Walt to let him know I was on.



For the next hour I had presented the package I was offering and took a few questions before expressing my gratitude and excitement for another partnership with the board. As I packed up my things, I decided to check up on April. I pulled out her card and sat down in the leather conference room chair. “April Barrett,” I said to myself, and shook my head, laughing a little at myself for being willing to do this.



I was in my mid-thirties, almost married once, but the relationship ended, and never really pursued any real relationships after that. Tracy was a heartbreaker. Well, she broke my heart at least. I don’t know if that was a habit of hers. Fortunately, business was good. After being cut back from a major telecom corporation, I decided to go into business for myself, offering cost-efficient options for start-up businesses. As a result, my business grew as those I partnered with grew. I outsourced the financial administration so I could do what I enjoyed: creating and selling. This kept me in the place where I still loved my job. I wasn’t rich by any means, but I was comfortable and I was happy.



I had started showing my age, so I realized I had better do what I could to take better care of myself. I joined the YMCA and competed in a few local triathlons, which kept me motivated to run, swim, ride my bike, lift weights, and do yoga. A side benefit to this kind of routine was that it kept me from being bored with exercise. As much as I worked to keep my body in shape, I couldn’t do anything about my hair. I didn’t mind the gray, since it started at my temples and worked outward from there, but I wasn’t a big fan of balding. Ultimately I decided to simply trim it short and not mess with it. Soon enough I shaved my head with a trimmer, but never going full bald with a razor. I came to like it and it looked good on me.



One of the things that kept business good for me was that I liked to learn and grow. I worked hard to stay on top of the latest technology and industry trends. It kept me knowledgeable, which also kept me competitive. The other thing that kept business good was that I liked people. Respect and courtesy were big in my family and I took it to heart. One of the things men liked about me was that I looked them in the eye, shot straight, and had a firm handshake. Women liked that I looked them in the eye, treated them as equals and with dignity, and still held onto some of the old fashioned skills of a gentleman. Businesses liked that I kept my word, met my obligations, took responsibility for my actions, and treated them with respect and professionalism.



I tried hard to think back to what April was like in high school, but I remember a name and face more than any specific activities she was involved in. As I said before, we were in a few classes together, but didn’t hang out. I opened up the browser on my laptop and went to Facebook. I did a search and was surprised to find a slew of April Barrett’s. I realized I didn’t know anything about this girl. I didn’t keep in touch with my high school friends so I had no way of knowing which April Barrett I was looking for. Fuck it, I thought. She wants me to call her anyway. I’ll start there.



I dialed the cell number on the card and got her voicemail. I wasn’t surprised, thinking she was still working. I left a message, telling her to call me. I would stay in the airport until she got off work, thinking it couldn’t be more than a couple of hours. It was already two o’clock, after all. For good measure, I sent her a text telling her I was in the business suite for my airline and to let me know when she got off work.



Stowing my bags with the concierge, I grabbed a giant soft pretzel and a Coke at the pretzel stand, watching planes take off and land for a few minutes before going back to the suite. I pulled out my laptop and watched a couple of streaming show episodes from a free service while I waited for April’s call. Just after four o’clock, my phone vibrated on the table. There was a text from April’s number saying, “Just getting out. I will change and meet you there. Fifteen minutes.”



Fifteen minutes later I was standing outside the lounge looking for the square-shaped, bun-haired redhead I had met a few hours before.



She never showed.



Instead, a stunning redhead with flowing red hair, slim-fitting jeans and a baby-doll faded green t-shirt walked toward me and called out, “Burton!” Her smile was the same as the agent who had offered me her phone number, but apart from that smile and her hair color, everything else was different.



I waved back. I guess. I don’t remember, really. I was too distracted by the tight little body and cute smile. “Hi,” I mumbled. When I returned my gaze to her face, I saw the corners of her mouth turned up slightly, obviously amused at my surprised reaction. “Oh…uh,” I motioned toward the door, pulling my card out of my pocket, “Would you like a drink?”



“Sure. But not here. I’m in the airport all the time. Let’s go someplace else.”



“Oh. Okay. Let me get my stuff.” I unlocked the door and she followed me in as I retrieved my bags from the host before exiting quickly. Her hands were in her pockets, her thumbs hanging over the sides, pointing toward her zipper.



“Where to?” she asked.



“I don’t really know. I live about three hours away and I only come to the airport.” I was kind of embarrassed about looking so clueless.



“All right. Do you want to drive or should I?”



“Again, I park in extended parking, so…”



“Okay,” she laughed, shaking her head, “Come on.” I followed her through a series of “employee access only” doors to a separate parking garage. She pulled a set of keys from her pocket and remotely unlocked the doors to a black Mustang convertible. With the press of a button, the trunk released and she lifted the hatch so I could place my bags in it. “You want to drive?” she asked as she closed the trunk.



“No, that’s okay.”



“Okay, then,” she shrugged. I followed her to the driver’s side and she gave me a funny look until I opened the door and stood back, keeping my hand on the edge of the window. She looked at me sideways and said, “Thank you,” before dropping into the driver’s seat. I closed the door and walked to the other side. She had it started before I even opened the door to let myself in. When I sat down, she smiled at me before backing out and driving us to our next destination. She had some music I didn’t recognize pouring from the speakers, apparently a playlist on her iPod, which was resting on the console in front of the gearshift.



She took me to a local restaurant with a bar, which had casual and after-work adults, but no children. Most of the clients were clearly dressed for work, which made April’s wardrobe look that much more casual. I didn’t like to travel in a suit, so I was still wearing a golf shirt and nice pants.



The drive over had been short and mostly quiet, but not necessarily awkward. She had to make a lot of rapid turns to weave through the lesser-traveled back roads, and I was looking at the unfamiliar landscape, occasionally looking back at April, not quite sure what to do from here.



As soon as we walked in, April waved and nodded to a handful of people before leading me back to a high table in the corner. “Man, I’m glad you called me, Burton,” she laughed. Her mannerisms were a little gruff and she reached into a bowl of unshelled peanuts, breaking one open before popping the two peanuts into her mouth, dropping the shell into a second bowl. “I really didn’t think you would. You know, it’s kind of sudden, we didn’t hang out in school, and all that.” She smiled. “But here we are.”



“Yeah. So you’re a TSA agent, huh?” Man, what a jackass question.



“Was it the uniform?” she asked seriously. “The uniform gave it away, didn’t it?”



“Sorry,” I laughed. “Stupid question.”



“Nah, it’s cool. Yeah, TSA. For about three years now,” she nodded.



“How’d you get into that?” I asked, reaching for a peanut after she withdrew her hand from the bowl. It was at that point that the waitress brought our drinks: two beers.



“I got a degree in criminal justice at State, then went to the police academy. I had just come out of the academy and was working as a beat cop when 9/11 happened. After about two years on the street, my sergeant ran for sheriff and won, asking me to come over as a deputy. I ended up working the county jail most of that time, but then when Homeland Security and the TSA started really amping up their workforce, I couldn’t resist. The pay was better and working the airport meant I wasn’t typically going to be getting shot at or spit on. I could handle the cursing and irritation, but didn’t like meth heads spitting on me and shit…sorry…stuff like that. Besides, as a cop there’s still a lot of down time, sitting around and stuff. On the line here, I’m always with people and it keeps me stimulated. It’s a good job. I like it.”



“Sounds like you’ve had quite a ride.”



“Oh, I could tell you a story or two,” she laughed.



“I bet.”



“So what about you? What are you going to Sydney for?”



I told her about my story and how I had started my own business. She asked tons of questions and I started to loosen up, enjoying her company more and more.



“See, that’s why I always liked you, Burton. You just do what you want and make it work for you. I always wanted that.”



“I didn’t know you liked me. We just had some classes together. I didn’t think you even knew who I was.”



“Really?” She sounded surprised. “Oh, yeah. I knew you. You were my high school crush, man.”



“I was?” I laughed at that. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I always thought you were a lesbian.”



“Yeah,” she shrugged. “I get that a lot. But I’m not. I may not be timid or especially feminine a lot of times, but I like a good fu…I like sex with guys as much as the next girl. I may be past my prime for marrying and having kids, but I would still like that.” She took another sip of her beer.



“So, you’ve never married, then?” I asked.



“No. Haven’t met the right guy, I guess. Had a few relationships, but nothing too serious. A lot of sexual relationships, some good chemistry, but ultimately not finding someone I would be willing to spend my life with.”



“I was close once.”



“Yeah?”



“Yeah. Real close. But it didn’t work out and looking back it’s probably for the best. I miss the sex, though. She was pretty amazing. Wild.”



“How wild?” April asked, idly twisting her beer bottle on the table.



“Pretty much anything. No water sports or anything like that, but a lot of other stuff.”



“Cool. I like ‘other stuff’,” she said, emphasizing the phrase “other stuff.” She looked me right in the eye as she said it. Her blue eyes were piercingly blue. Intense, almost glowing it seemed like. Maybe it was the light hanging down right over our table, but they seemed brighter than any I’d seen before. How did I not notice her in high school? Oh. Right.



“Can I ask you a personal question, Burton?” she asked.



“That depends,” I laughed. She wasn’t laughing.



“On what? That question was pretty straightforward. Yes or no?”



I swallowed some beer, afraid of what I was about to say. “Okay, sure.”



“How long has it been for you?”



“How long has what been?”



“Sex. Release. You know, when was the last time you got laid?” My, she was a dainty little flower, wasn’t she?



“I don’t know. Six months?”



“Six months?!” she exclaimed, trying not to laugh. “How do your nuts even fit in your pants? Damn.” She took another drink of her beer, smiling around the lip of the bottle as she did.



“I’m not blue-ballin’ too bad because…uh…well, nevermind.”



“No, it’s fine,” she said. “You don’t have to explain.” She wriggled her eyebrows as she slowly mimicked a masturbation hand motion.



“Hey, glad we could catch up, April. Nice to see you again.” I rolled my eyes and took a drink of my beer.



“Okay, okay, I’m sorry. If it makes you feel any better, I have to scratch my own itch most nights just so I can sleep. It hasn’t been six months for me, but it’s been long enough. If I don’t cum at least once a day, I’m climbing the walls.” She shifted in her seat a little bit.



I kind of didn’t know where to take the conversation from here. Going back to the topic of work would seem like an obvious bail-out, but continuing on our current path could make me seem desperate. Was April my type? Not necessarily. Was she attractive? Without a doubt.



“Listen. April, I know we had just talked about getting a drink together and catching up, but do you want to grab some dinner?”



She turned her head and looked at me sideways. “Burton, are you finally asking me out on a date?” she teased.



“I guess if you want to call it a date, that would be all right,” I laughed. I certainly hadn’t planned for it to be a date, but by definition it would certainly qualify.



“Okay, playing it cool. I get it. Sure, I’ll go to dinner with you.”



We chose a middle-ground chain restaurant where we could both go as we were and not feel out of place. The drive over and new location seemed to give us a natural shift in focus so that our conversations turned toward old mutual friends (or at least names we both knew), our families and stupid pop culture entertainment. This made dinner more bearable and allowed us both to be more lighthearted.

Over a sizzling plate of fajitas I was able to watch and listen to the April who wasn’t trying so hard, and my attraction for her grew. She was still a little rough around the edges, but her eyes sparkled, a smile seemed natural for her and she laughed easily. As dinner closed down, we were finishing up what seemed to be our last two beers for the evening. We were obviously both relaxed, but completely coherent.



“So,” she asked, “What time is your flight?”



“Not till 9:30 tomorrow morning.”



“Where are you staying?”



“Probably the Hyatt. I haven’t called it in because I didn’t think I would be staying overnight, but I should be able to get a room with no problem.”



She cleared her throat and looked at the table. “Well, my shift starts at 7 in the morning. If you want, you can stay at my place and ride in with me to work in the morning.”



Had she just offered me an invitation to spend the night with her?



“That sounds nice. If you’re sure.”



“Oh, yeah. Positive.” She tried to sound casual, but perked up a little when I accepted her invitation.



I paid the bill and we got back into her Mustang as she drove the twenty minutes to her apartment. The ride was kind of quiet, but we both made attempts at conversation. I think we both knew what was coming, but neither wanted to admit it.



Her apartment was a nice two-bedroom in a gated complex, and she told me about the amenities as we circled through the parking lot to her building near the back. She had a private garage at the foot of her building and after I picked my bag out of the trunk, she closed the garage door before squeezing past me in the confined space. I didn’t think the space was that small, but she squeezed her ass hard against my groin as she slowly made her way past me. She looked over her shoulder as she whispered, “Excuse me.” Our eyes met and I felt a spark. Her look was one of shy longing. Instinctively I placed my hand on her waist and stopped her for a second before gently pressing back against her.



“Tight fit?” I asked quietly.



“Very,” she breathed, her eyes smoldering before she cleared her throat and continued toward the door. I watched her ass freely. She really was in tremendous shape. I would soon find out why.



I followed her from the garage to the hallway and into the elevator that would take us to her third-floor apartment. She caught me checking her out while we rode the elevator, but neither of us said anything. Her breasts looked full and firm in her t-shirt and her stomach flat. Her arms were toned, but not bulky and her quads, hamstrings, and calves had beautiful curves that matched her ass in those jeans.



As soon as she opened the door to her apartment, she pointed to a hallway straight back and said, “Guest room is on the right. Bathroom in the hall.” As I made my way back to the hall, I noticed that her dining area had been converted to a gym, with interlocking rubber mats covering the floor, a chin-up bar mounted on the wall, and a stand with those adjustable-weight dumb bells in the corner. The wall had a poster of a workout schedule, but also another poster of grappling moves, holds and contact points.



“Krav Maga,” she said. “Israeli self-defense.”



“Oh. Okay.”



“Drop your bag off. I’ll change and show you a few things.”



“I don’t…”



“Oh, come on,” she laughed. “Don’t be a big baby.”



“All right,” I said as I walked to the guest room.



“Put on something comfortable,” she called out as my door closed.



In a couple of minutes we were both back in her home gym. I was in my standard evening t-shirt and gym shorts, and she had opted for a sports bra and tight lycra running shorts. Her physique was unbelievable.



For the next twenty minutes she showed me blocks, holds, contact points, and basic self-defense moves. I caught on pretty quickly, and she laughed every time she told me to try a move on her, but I timidly imitated the hold.



“Come on,” she laughed. “I ain’t gonna break.” Even though I would apologize after each move, she would smack my chest or shoulder and reply, “You’re doing great.”



“Well, you’re very good at this. How long have you been studying?”



“I don’t know. A few years. Some training from the academies, but I go twice a week to a class. It’s fun and keeps me in shape. Okay, one more move and I’ll give you a break,” she laughed, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “Get behind me and put your hand around my neck and the other arm around my waist. And don’t be shy,” she said, backing into me, pressing herself against my stomach. “Get a good grip.”



I did as she said and in a flash I was on the floor, a knot in my stomach and the only part of me she was holding was one of my thumbs, which had my arm twisted in a grotesquely painful contortion. I heard her laugh lightly as she released me and helped me to my feet. I obviously looked sheepish. I certainly felt foolish, having been beaten so thoroughly for the past nearly half-hour.



“How you feeling?” she asked, more sympathetically than I would have expected.



“A little humiliated,” I smiled.



“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do that.” She walked to the refrigerator and grabbed two bottles of water and tossed me one. As we opened them, she sat on the couch next to me and said, “I probably shouldn’t tell you this, but working out gets me pretty worked up.” She took a sip of her water as she looked me in the eye. I took a peek and noticed her nipples poking through her sports bra.



“Well, uh…I wouldn’t mind a chance to regain some masculinity.” I took a sip of my water, smiling as I brought it to my lips.



“Then why are we still on the couch?”



“Because you scare me a little bit.”



“Does it turn you on?”



“Kind of.”



“You want to fuck me, don’t you?” she laughed.



“Yep.” I laughed in return.



“Come and get it,” she said, standing up off the couch and making her way to the hall. I was on my feet in a flash.



As I rounded the corner into her room, she stood with one hand on her hip while the other hand pulled her pony tail holder free. “I’ve been waiting for this for a long time.” As I approached her, she had that crooked smile on her face as she eyed me over without a hint of shame. “I used to finger myself to thoughts of you all through high school.” I was standing right in front of her now and she was rubbing the front of her thigh as she talked. “I waited for you to ask me out, to a dance, prom…hell, just to sit next to me at a pep rally or lunch, anything. I had thought about asking you out, but figured you wouldn’t want to.”



“And here we are.”



“Here we are,” she breathed.



I was on her in an instant. Our tongues wrestled and I doubted she could escape my grasp now if she wanted to, which I suspected she didn’t. Our hands were all over each other. This was the first time I had ever wanted to touch April Barrett, but now I wanted nothing more. My hands cupped her ass and pulled her against my raging hard-on. She moaned into my mouth.



I pulled away for a second and reminded her, “It’s been a while. I don’t know how long I’ll last.”



“I don’t care. Just fuck me.” With that, our mouths reconnected. She stepped back long enough to yank her pink sports bra over her head. Her tits bounced free and quickly settled into their perfect place on her perfect form. The bright pink areola and nipples were on prominent display against her pure white mounds. I quickly found out that they were a perfect handful and I also discovered that she was sensitive in her breasts.



She pulled my head down with little resistance from me, forcing her nipple into my mouth. I sucked and licked and bit, drawing moans and cursing from her. She gripped my hair in her strong hands, refusing to let me leave, as if for some reason she thought I would. I alternated back and forth and suddenly stopped when I realized that as much as I loved her tits, that wasn’t what I really wanted. I stood up and shoved her back onto the bed, bringing a grunt, followed by a quick smile when she saw me undressing in a hurry. As I pushed down my shorts, my shirt on the floor, I said, “I can’t eat your pussy through those shorts.



I thought I was fast getting undressed, but I had nothing on her. When I stood up from pushing my shorts and underwear off my feet, she was already stripped naked and rubbing her pussy, her eyes ablaze. Those blue eyes burned with a passion I had never seen before. I don’t know if it was that she wanted me that badly, or if she just wanted to get laid that badly and I was just fortunate enough to be here for it. It didn’t matter; I reached out and grabbed her feet, quickly dragging her to the edge of the bed. She laughed when I did it, but her laughter was cut off when my mouth quickly covered her pussy. I immediately felt a hand on the back of my head, forcing me into a place I wanted to be.



After a day at work and a rigorous workout, she was hot and musky…and I loved it. I was used to women making sure they were clean as they would excuse themselves to the rest room in preparation for our time together, or maybe they would wave me off, embarrassingly asserting that they hadn’t cleaned up (often our passion would get the best of us and we would just jump on each other), so oral sex was off the table.



Not April, though. I quickly realized that it turned me on. She didn’t stink, wasn’t unclean, just musky and salty and I guess it appealed to the animalistic need in me. As I knelt on her carpet and pressed my face into her dripping, slippery, smoothly shaved cunt, she was growling her approval and demanding more from me. My own desire was dripping onto her carpet, I soon discovered. With a scream, April’s hips forced her against my face and she convulsed in mid-air for a short time before crashing back onto her bed.



“Holy shit,” she breathed. “That was fucking amazing.”



I stood up, giving her the first good look at my erection. I knelt on the bed to make my way toward her head for a blowjob, but she stopped me with her foot on my chest.



“No blowjob for you yet. I want to feel that cock in me. If you’re going to be quick, I want to make sure I get to fuck you. On your back.”



I lay on my back and she quickly straddled my waist, her perfect tits bobbing as she settled. She planted her feet so she was squatting over me, put one hand on my chest and curled her head so she could watch me pierce her for the first time. She didn’t even hold my dick in her hand. Instead she just aimed her hips, captured the head and slowly lowered herself until she was sitting on me.



“Damn!” she whined. “You feel good, Burton.” She lifted herself up and down smoothly a few times before dropping onto her knees and falling forward onto me. My hands cupped her ass and she ground herself onto me, pressing her breasts into me while we kissed. We were fully connected. She rolled her hips as she used me for her own pleasure, apparently stimulating her clit on my groin. As she worked, however, it stimulated my cock from every angle as her insides caressed me, especially around the coronal ridge.



“Oh my god, April. You feel amazing. Why didn’t I do this in high school?” I laughed.



“No idea, but I’m glad you’re doing it now,” she breathed. She began to gasp and forced her tongue back into my mouth, apparently building to her own climax. Mine was approaching more quickly than I had hoped, but I was looking forward to it anyway.



“Fuuuuu….!” she screamed, forcing herself down onto me, clenching at me from the inside. Her hips convulsed on me and she tried to control her whispered demands, but I could tell they were forced. Her lips brushed my ears as she whispered her staccato request. “Cum in me. Fill me up. Please, Burton. Cum in my pussy.”



She didn’t even get a chance to say anything else. With one hand on her ass, I held her in place, forcing the two of us tighter together, and with the other hand on the back of her head I held her chin to my shoulder. Gush after fiery gush forced its way out the narrow tunnel before breaking free into the heat of my first-time lover’s womb. She practically screamed in my ear, her breath hot on my neck. I don’t know if it prolonged her orgasm or forced another one out on the heels of the previous climax, but she came again.



She went limp on top of me, but I wasn’t having that. I rolled us over, knowing I was still hard, and probably would be for a while. I had only told her I would be quick; I didn’t even hint that I was only good for one time. I hoped she wouldn’t be disappointed.



When I rolled us over, she gasped, but was smiling. “There. I came in your pussy. Now I want you to suck me clean before I fuck you for real.”



“Oh, yeah,” she muttered breathlessly as she scrambled to her knees. I was in her mouth in an instant, listening to her moan around me, one hand on my balls as she supported herself with the other.



“How do you like the taste of our cum mixed together on my cock?” I demanded.



“MMMmmm,” she moaned, pulling off me just long enough to say, “I love it,” before forcing herself back onto me. I was still rock hard. I had always been that way, but it had become more difficult to do as I have gotten older. That’s part of my reason for taking care of myself: good blood flow for erection quality. April certainly seemed to appreciate it, and I was glad she did.



I grabbed a handful of her bouncing red hair, at the back of her skull and began thrusting into her mouth. She groaned and put both hands on the bed to balance herself as I used her mouth for my own pleasure. She looked up at me, looking straight into my soul. It was almost like she was daring me as her mouth curled into a smile around me.



I held her in place and pressed forward steadily, causing her to lurch and her eyes to turn red. I backed out for a second and she took a deep breath before I pulled her onto me again, pushing into her throat. Again she lurched, but a hand grabbed my ass and pulled me into her mouth. Suddenly the tightness of her throat gave way and the last inch of me disappeared behind her lips. She was such a whore. I thought she deserved to know.



“Fucking whore,” I spit, my words dripping with venom.



“MM-HMM,” she affirmed, trying to nod, but trapped on the meat lodged in her mouth. I pulled us both away forcefully.



“Are you a whore?” I demanded.



“I’m a FUCKING whore!” she replied with contempt.



“Take my cock in your whore throat!” I drove it back in with my full weight, pulling her onto me by the back of her head. Her tongue forced its way out to lick at whatever she could find. Her face was red, eyes dripping tears, but every time I would pull her away she would smile and demand more. I couldn’t believe this! If she wanted to she could kick my ass four kinds of sideways and yet here she was allowing herself to be used, even demanding that I abuse her. I had never seen anything like it.



I pulled out and pulled her up to me, wiping the tears from her eyes before pulling her for a kiss. The kiss was somewhat gentle and she eased into it. I don’t know, maybe I was trying to settle her down to protect myself or maybe I was worried about her somehow. Her arms went around my neck and as we kissed, I caressed her back and ass. That ass was perfect. Hell, her whole body was perfect. How was she still single?



I kissed across her face and ran my tongue along her ear. I whispered, “I want to fuck you again.” She shuddered and whimpered. “From behind.”



She nodded frantically, pulling away and said, “Okay,” almost out of breath. She was fast. She didn’t just get on her hands and knees to face away from me. She pressed her hips back at me and dropped her chest and face to the bed, making her look even more lewd. She brought her hands back and spread her cheeks apart, distorting the lips of her pussy, the glowing deep pink lips against her otherwise porcelain-white skin. “Come fuck me,” she said. “Drive that dick straight in.” She was calm, but obviously impatient.



I quickly settled in behind her, aiming my prick with one hand, while the other rested on her hip. I pressed forward quickly but smoothly, hearing a long moan escape from her lungs, ending with a muttered, “uh, god, yeah,” tacked onto the end of it.



I loved to watch a woman’s cunt embrace my cock. Always have. The contrasting texture, the open invitation of her pussy that somehow still seems to be invaded by the aggressive hardness of my member. And when I would pull out, it would almost seem as if her lips were begging me to stay, clinging to me, reaching for me. It’s an unusual and beautiful dance. And here I was once again, enjoying the opportunity with a stunning redhead, her full pink lips begging just as all the others had.



Withdrawing slowly I heard another groan as her labia pulled at me, streaking me with wetness. It wasn’t long before I was railing her in earnest. She was constantly talking, demanding, grunting, and as I worked harder or longer, her vocalizations increased and became more insistent. She was beginning to convulse a little and I was moving more easily as she became wetter. With both hands on her rump, I was plowing into her fully, pulling all the way out quickly until just the head was in her, and then slamming back into her until my balls smacked into her lips.



I couldn’t help it. It was right there, shiny and smiling at me. I moved my hand over just a little and pressed my thumb into her ass, watching it quickly disappear behind the wrinkled ring. “OH FUCK!” April screamed, her ass and pussy gripping me before her orgasm wrestled her to the mattress. She collapsed onto the bed, pulling off of me, I believe unintentionally, and I watched her involuntary contraction giving the image of her trying to hump the mattress. She had one hand under her, rapidly running across her clit and her other hand gripped the bedspread in her fist.



“Fuck, Burton,” she laughed, rolling over, still stroking herself. “You could warn a girl.”



“Okay,” I laughed. “Here’s a warning. I’m gonna fuck your ass before I cum in your mouth.” I moved forward and grabbed her ankles as I said it.



“You are, huh?” she said, not giving any resistance.



“Yeah. I am.” I grazed the head of my cock up and down her lips as she pulled her legs back some more.



“What if I don’t want you to fuck my ass?” she teased.



“Oh, you want me to. I know you do. You’re a fucking whore.”



She groaned as I pushed into her pussy, nodding as she said, “I am. I’m a fucking whore.”



She was dripping still and I was covered with her cum, a white creamy ring encircling the base of my shaft and a matching froth at the bottom of her pussy.



I pulled out and never lost contact with her as I pushed down on the top of my cock, picking up some of her natural lubricant on my trip downward. She gasped and her eyes closed when I brushed her backdoor. Without waiting for an invitation I pressed forward with a firm pressure, insisting on entering. She winked at me as I suddenly popped in.



“You bitch. You were locking me out,” I smiled.



“I had to keep some sense of control.”



“Are you done being in control now?”



“I’m done,” she smiled. “Come and get it.”



I buried myself quickly and smoothly in her tight ass, letting a groan escape as a flood of colors burst against the back of my eyelids.



“I told you,” she grunted. “It’s a very tight fit.”



“So tight.”



“You feel fucking huge. Damn,” she strained.



We began working in unison as I pulled out and pressed forward and she dropped her heels on my shoulders. This gave her one free hand to stimulate her clit and finger her pussy, and one free hand to play with her nipples. She was frantic in her movements, riding several orgasms, clenching me with her sphincter muscles as I steadily fucked into her. She continued to flood our union with juices as they ran down from her constantly leaking pussy.



I couldn’t take it any more. “I’m about to blow,” I belted out.

“Vin… please… ohhh… don’t!” she muttered under her breath as her body flexed with discomfort. Her hazel gaze wordlessly begged him to be careful.



He sighed deeply as he eyed her intensely with his own dark chocolate brown stare. He was trying to be as gentle as possible. “Stop being such a baby. You know it’s gotta hurt a little first. You’ll feel better when it’s over. Trust me.”



“Ow! Careful… that’s hurts,” she whined as she fidgeted.



He tried comforting her. This tenseness would only make it worse and prolong the discomfort. “Shhhh… easy… give me a second,” he said soothingly.



She panted loudly, “You’re pushing it in deeper!”



“I can only pull it out… ughh… if you stop moving so much!” he said exasperatedly.



Sweat began to bead on her upper lip, as she squirmed and gasped again. “I don’t think I can take much more of this poking and prodding. Pull it out already, please! Basta ya!” [Enough already!]



“Easy, now. I… I…. I’ve almost got it,” he said, silently willing her to be still.



“Just leave it in already, damn it,” she sighed weakly. Her dark wispy bangs were beginning to cling wetly to her forehead and the sides of her cheeks. She blew a breath out slowly from between her full pouty lips, trying to let the pain flow through her, willing herself not to stiffen up.



“Ta-da!” his face split into a huge, proud grin with deep dimples framing his smile as he presented the tweezers and the offending splinter to her.



“Whew… thanks, Vin. You know, being a righty, I never could get the hang of removing a splinter from my right hand.” She smiled faintly, inspecting her palm.



Vincent lifted the guilty item, a wizened gardening claw, the guilty item. Examining its beaten-up wooden handle, he suggested, “You could just spring for a new one. This one’s seen better days. All it’s gonna do is give you splinters again.”



Antonia snatched it none-too-politely from his grasp, only realizing his surprise at her actions a bit too late. Sheepishly, she said sheepishly “This was Therese’s. I kept all her gardening tools. I’ll just sand paper the handle or wear gloves when I use it from now on.”



Vincent smiled as he watched her clutch the claw like a priceless object d’art. He was the same with things that he had kept that had belonged to Therese. He could see Antonia’s mind was elsewhere, so he decided to change the subject. “Are you about done out here, Tone? We really need to start looking over this week’s schedule of pick-ups.”



Antonia surveyed her somewhat small, but lush garden. “Yeah, I’m pretty much done with the weeding and picking in the vegetable patch. You can pack up the veggies I picked and put them in your truck. Let me just clip some mint for iced tea. I asked Joy to come by and pick up some mint for the shelter. Actually, why don’t I leave the crates of veggies out here for her too? Joy can deliver them, unless you need to go to the shelter yourself today.”



He thought for a moment, debating what he might need to do today at the shelter. “No. I don’t have to, though maybe I should give Joy a hand.”



“No, Vin… Sheila and Matt are at the shelter today. They can help Joy unload a few crates of veggies.”



Vincent scratched his darkly bearded chin absent-mindedly. “Well, I guess so.”



Antonia raised her clasped hands in a prayerful gesture. “Vincent, listen to me. And I mean this in the nicest way. It’s one thing to be useful. It’s completely another thing to be used. It’s all well and good for you to want to help out your own staff. But you just end up doing more of the work, dude. If you’re going to be a good administrator and manage the shelter properly, you need to learn to delegate more and not pitch in left and right whenever somebody whines a little.”



Nodding slowly, he concurred. “You’re right, I don’t delegate enough. But it’s tough to just stand by sometimes.”



Antonia released her hands and ran them through her disheveled layers of brown hair. He had such a knack for exasperating her with his excessive guilt over whether he did enough. “Judas Priest, Vincent! You don’t ‘just stand by!’ You’re like a whirling dervish sometimes. I swear you make my head spin the way you bounce around at the shelter doing five things at once.”



She took a deep breath and made herself shut up. She was starting to nag him just like Therese used to… well, maybe not as affectionately as Therese used to. She put a smile on her face as she gathered her small gardening shears to collect the mint. She looked down at her white t-shirt.



Ewww, it wasn’t all that white anymore! She was soil-covered and sweaty. Oh well, she thought to herself, time to toss these duds in the hamper, as she distractedly wiped her hands on her cut-off denim shorts.



“Come on, let’s go in and get a drink, I need to freshen up and then we can get started on this week’s agenda. I’m gonna go jump into the shower real quick. I’ve been out here for almost four hours.” She stretched her arms over her head, and then extended them behind her back, getting rid of whatever kinks she could. She slowly rolled her neck from side to side as she led the way into the cool interior of the house, sliding the patio screen aside. As was their habit, they each kicked off their sandals and left them outside on the cement patio.



Antonia’s mention of the mint made a connection in Vincent’s mind that had somehow slipped by the wayside and been lost until today. As he turned to shift the screen door back in place, he asked, “Is that you? You make the fresh mint tea for the shelter?”



She gave him a funny look. “I thought you knew. Mint tea is an excellent aid to digestion and many homeless people suffer from gastro-intestinal problems because their food sources are rarely the best. Face it, dumpster-diving isn’t like eating at a four star restaurant, ya know?”



“I know how good mint tea is, I was raised on the stuff, remember? Tea is as popular as coffee in the Middle East. My folks kept their tea habit when they came here. I just didn’t know it was you making it. I thought it was an anonymous contributor.” He sounded almost slighted or hurt by the fact that he wasn’t aware of this.



“Well, I don’t go around announcing everything I do, Vin.” Antonia laughed lightly, shaking her head.



“I know you don’t… it’s just that I usually know everything that’s going on at the shelter.”



“Vin… it’s just mint tea. You don’t have to worry about me taking over the shelter or anything.”



Now it was his turn to give her a funny look. “I wasn’t thinking that at all, Tone… I couldn’t run the place without all your help, I just…”



Antonia shrugged her shoulders, kindly dismissing Vincent’s concerns as unwarranted. “I know what you were thinking, Vin, and you can’t possibly know absolutely know everything that goes on at the shelter, even if you are the founder. That’s the whole point for having your staff and volunteers to help out, right? Ease up on yourself, compadre.”



~ ~ ~ ~ ~ …25 minutes later… ~ ~ ~ ~ ~



Antonia grumbled loudly. “!Coño!!Que jodienda!” [Damn it! This is so fuckin' frustrating!]



Antonia ran a hand through her still-damp hair. Trying to stretch the contributions seemed a lot tougher some weeks over others. It was an hour since they had come inside from the late morning sun.



While Antonia was no longer heated by the sun… the shower had helped to cool her down somewhat… but she was now mentally heated by the frustration of trying to draw out the shelter’s sources to the breaking point.



“!Que dios nos ayuda con este toyo! [God help us with this mess!]



Vincent snickered quietly. Antonia always swore in Spanish when things really annoyed or agitated her. It was a personal trait of hers that he had always found amusing ever since he’d first met her.



~ ~ ~ ~ ~



About six years ago, Therese and Antonia met at a series of art history lectures. Therese was a very pretty, tall, slender black woman, with a delicate lilt to her voice and Antonia would often notice out of the corner of her eye that they always reacted to the same parts of the lectures. During the intermissions, they started chatting over coffee and tea.



Turned out that Antonia was a librarian and something of a detective when it came to finding information. Therese mentioned the shelter that she and Vincent ran and their constant need for information regarding what services they wanted to offer, educational programs, housing resources, getting people to contribute money, time and resources.



After a time, Antonia jumped up on board as the shelter’s resident trouble-shooter and eventually one of the shelter’s produce connections. Antonia also helped design the weekly menu for the kitchen at the shelter and taught nutrition classes there as well.



Upon meeting Vincent, Antonia realized she had found kindred spirits in both him and Therese. The three of them were vegetarian and all three were first generation-born Americans. Therese’s family originally came from Jamaica, Vincent’s family was Middle Eastern from Egypt, while Antonia’s family came from the Dominican Republic. All their parents came to the U.S. in the 1950′s and 1960′s to seek out better opportunities than were available in their native homelands. They had all been raised with very strong altruistic tendencies and they often gave each other grief about how much they did for others, though they rarely seemed to cut themselves slack, until the other two made mention of it.



~ ~ ~ ~ ~



Vincent watched as Antonia nibbled on her lower lip as she tried to organize this week’s worth of 21 menus based on this week’s contributions. Vincent felt the same way as Antonia did regarding the nuisance of being at the mercy of other people’s willingness to give. He was often frustrated by the nature of trying to keep a shelter running smoothly. But he always made an effort to not get upset over how much others were willing to give or do. That was out of his hands and getting annoyed didn’t resolve the issue.



“…The road of life is rocky and you may stumble too…”



Bob Marley’s “Could You Be Loved?” played on the stereo as they tried to organize the schedule of pick-ups and contributions.



Vincent’s tan, lean frame lay across the full length of Antonia’s sofa, reading the accounts as he held them over his eyes, to block some of the early afternoon sun that lit up Antonia’s living room. His bare feet were crossed at the ankles and rested on the arm of the sofa, waving to the beat of the music.



He said, “Monty’s Deli will have at least 20 pounds of deli meat for us on Thursday.”



Antonia muttered softly, “Yuck,” thinking he wouldn’t hear her.



Vincent heard her and smiled as he continued skimming through the manifests, “When they’re back on their feet, they can become vegetarians like us. But for now, the folks in that shelter will take what we give them.”



She sighed as she placed an errant strand of her feathery auburn hair behind one ear. “I know… I know. They’ll gladly take what we give them. I just wish we could get more fresh produce donated on a regular basis. Just because they’ve been homeless or can’t afford to find three square meals a day doesn’t mean they don’t deserve good nutrition.”



Vincent chided Antonia. “Patience is a virtue, dear.”



She hissed, “I wish I could afford a place with a bigger garden, caramba!”



He gazed at her from over the top of the manifest, shaking his head slowly in amused disbelief. He couldn’t believe that this was the same person that was always telling him that he did too much. Apparently Antonia couldn’t see the forest for the trees, Vincent thought. “You manage to be very generous to the shelter with the space you have.” He tried to defuse her mood by flashing his bright smile at her… which he knew often lightened her right up, but was met with a perturbed look on Antonia’s face.



She snorted in a rather unladylike manner, waving a hand dismissively through the air. “Well, that’s obviously because I only keep enough for lil ol’ me and everything else goes to the shelter. If I could find the extra time and supplies, I’d love to approach Nick at the housing projects on Tremont and see if we could utilize part of their community garden space for produce.” She wrote a note to herself about making that phone call.



Antonia sat on the floor, resting her back against the upholstered base of the sofa, using her bent legs as a desk for her ledger and date book. With one hand she took notes, while the other hand raised a cup of coffee to her lips. She sipped as she watched Vincent pencil in reminders and changes to his own notes.



He reached down beside him for his glass of mint tea and took a sip. As he returned the glass to its resting place, he sighed, “I’ll call Karolina at the dairy farm up in Untermyer and see if she’ll be able to stick to her 45 gallons of milk that’s she’s been supplying us. I need to visit David on the eighteenth and… “



Abruptly, Vincent stopped speaking.



Antonia didn’t turn to see why he’d stopped talking. She knew why. Now she was simply waiting to see if he knew that she knew.



He hastily sat up, his long dark hair swaying about his shoulders as he braced his head in his hands, letting his notes and pencil drop around his bare feet. He grunted, “Damn, sorry about that.”



“Don’t be… it’s just paper,” Antonia muttered softly.



“No, I mean…” Vincent’s voice caught in his throat, unable to work around the instant lump that had decided to appear.



“Yes, Vincent… I know…” she said sympathetically, “Therese will be gone 3 years on the eighteenth.”



He shook his head softly in incredulity, “It kind of snuck up on me.” He rubbed his beard with both hands as though trying to wake himself up from a disturbing dream. “I mean I still think about her all the time… but the date just kind of hit me, ya know?”



Antonia sighed sadly. “I figured as much… you’ve completely buried yourself in the running and organizing of the shelter. She wouldn’t approve, you know, working yourself like you do till all hours.”



He nodded absently at the point she made. An ardent tone entered his voice. “Yeah… maybe… but she would’ve understood. There’s a need for this shelter, you know that as well as anyone, and it certainly won’t operate itself. Therese herself pretty much kept herself in the thick of it, until the chemo got the better of her.”



Vincent gazed out the window as he recalled both the good and bad times he’d shared with his Therese. Sometimes it felt like it was just yesterday that they had received the news about her illness. Other times it felt as though decades had passed by since he’d last heard her throaty laugh or seen her start her day off by selecting a matching caftan and head wrap, humming as she danced around their kitchen with him as they prepared breakfast together.



He heard more than saw Antonia rise up from the floor to gather the fallen papers. She sniffed several times, as she bent and scooped up the pages. He could sense her trying to stem tears before they got away from her. He turned away from the window, asking innocently, “Catching a cold?”



“Yeah… I guess… maybe allergies,” she murmured unconvincingly. She made a motion with her hand to wipe a tear from her cheek. He moved towards her and grabbed her hand before she could wipe the tear onto her dark green summer dress.



He smiled sadly at her, his concern for her obvious in his dark brown eyes. “You’re as lousy a liar as she was. I’m sorry… I tend to forget that Therese wasn’t just my wife, but your friend too.”



Her voice shook with more unshed tears, “God, Vincent… sometimes I miss her so much. And I really wish she were still here to tell you to ease up and enjoy life once in a while.”



Vincent’s eyes darkened with emotion as he recalled his wife’s playful badgering about him needing to lighten his load on occasion. She often mentioned that by doing different things, she was able to recharge her batteries. Which was one of the reasons that she had always made time for her art history lectures. Right now he couldn’t help but play the role of nagger himself.



“Well, Therese would probably tell you the same. When was the last time you went out with your girlfriends to a concert or something? Or the last time you visited your brother Jose and hung out with him? You and that Nick guy seem to have a lot in common. Why don’t you ask him out on a night on the town?”



“Uhhm… Vin? Nick’s gay.”



“Oops, never mind.” Vincent had the common sense to look sheepish over Antonia’s response.



Antonia chuckled sadly as she tossed the fallen papers and pencil onto the coffee table. “That’s ok. He’s a great friend. Therese said the same thing, she thought we were two peas in a pod. Sweet Therese, always playing… match maker.” Antonia’s voice hitched on the last words.



Vincent pulled her towards him to hug her, comfort her. Hell, who was he kidding? He wanted to be comforted as well… needed to be comforted was more accurate. He couldn’t recall the last time he had hugged someone or been hugged himself. After Therese’s illness, where he had to touch her constantly as he cared for her, once she had passed away, he had unconsciously withdrawn from human contact.



Being close to people hurt him too much, but contact is a human necessity you can only put off and ignore for so long.



He softly admonished Antonia as he squeezed her shoulders. “You slave away in that garden for six months or more out of the year, growing vegetables and herbs for the shelter, while you pull a 40 hour work week at the library and another 20 hours at the shelter. Not to mention you’re always trying to locate us some grant money or get temporary housing or free medical attention for someone. Therese would beat you into submission and make you take some time off or something.”



Vincent draped his long strong arms around Antonia’s waist as her tears dampened the front of his denim workshirt. She was nearly a foot shorter than him, so he easily tucked the top of her head under his chin. Her hands rested on his slim hips as she tried to breathe deeply and compose herself.



He closed his eyes when his own tears seemed imminent. He tried not to shake, but his body betrayed him. Antonia clutched at his back as she felt the wave of emotion wash over him. She began to rock back and forth in the hopes of soothing him, whispering softly, “Ya, compadre… shhh… no sufres, [Enough, friend... shhh... don't suffer...]



She slid her hands up his back, distractedly toying with the curly ends of his black, silky shoulder-length hair. Antonia’s own tears dissipated as she started humming along with Bob Marley’s earnest voice. She rubbed Vincent’s back in soothing circles, trying to both calm him and allow him his release.



Vincent pulled away from her slightly to gauge how she was fairing. He wiped his shirt sleeve across his eyes. Placing his hand under her chin when she wouldn’t meet his gaze, he tilted her face up towards his. He smiled down at her, his tough little friend. Trying to make her laugh, he arched an eyebrow as he asked, “Do you know how green your eyes get when you cry?”



She grimaced as she tried to pull away from him. “I’m sure they’re more red than green right now. Let me go throw some water on my face.”



Softly he spoke as he kept his grip on her, “No… let me.” He took the hem of his shirt and dabbed at the moisture resting on her skin.



Antonia giggled as she stood obediently in front of him. “Thanks… you’re a prince.” She cast her eyes down as she leaned towards him to leave a lighthearted peck on his cheek.



Not knowing that she planned a kiss, he moved towards her and her lips landed on his own for an instant. Her eyes shot open as she stepped away quickly, realizing that the soft warm skin beneath her lips had been his own lips. Her fingers brushed against her lips, still feeling the warm impression and the slight electric shock his lips had given hers. She could still feel his moustache brushing against her top lip as she gazed at him, frozen to the spot.

“Tone,” his nickname for her escaped as the softest whisper from his lips as their eyes met. She bit her lower lip as he pulled her into his arms again. Somehow she couldn’t resist, she had to confess to herself that she didn’t want to resist. She sank into his deep brown stare, those beautiful eyes, surrounded by his warm olive skin. He brought one hand up to her face and cupped her cheek, her eyes closing at the feel of his hand. She turned her face into his palm, planting a kiss in its center. He drew his other hand up to the back of her head, running his long fingers through her softly layered hair.



Vincent shifted his head down to hers as she turned hers upwards, cutting the distance between them into the smallest span of space. She could feel his breath on her lips for a moment before their lips touched again. She moaned against his lips as he gently gripped her head, drinking her in. Antonia raised her arms up, her hands heading to the back of his jeans and slid them into his back pockets.



Vincent growled in his throat, alternately stroking and tugging at Antonia’s hair, deepening the kiss as he felt her body respond to his lips and hands. He nipped at her full lower lip, then sucked at the tender spot he had created. She tasted like the coffee she’d been drinking, earthy and sweet.



Antonia squeezed his ass, first gently and then more earnestly as her knees seemed to turn to liquid thanks to Vincent’s gifted lips. He escalated the kissing further by licking the length of her lower lip, hearing yet another moan escape from her just before his tongue pressed forward into the velvet warmth of her mouth. Vincent nearly crushed her to his chest, as his hands slid down from her face and hair.



Antonia sucked on the tip of his tongue, her breathing becoming more erratic as their embrace pressed their bodies together from head to toe. She gasped and trembled as she felt the growing bulge in Vincent’s jeans against her.



She softly bit his earlobe and whispered, “I can’t stand… you’re making my knees weak.”



He kept her in his embrace as he stepped backwards towards the sofa. He gracefully sank heavily into the thick cushions and pulled her onto his lap, having her straddle his thighs, facing him. She rained soft kisses all over his caramel-colored skin, running her hands against the soft faded red t-shirt under his work shirt as she planted her knees on either side of his strong, lean thighs.



Vincent ran his hands up and down her arms, lightly scratching her sun-kissed skin, feeling the goose bumps making her shiver against him. He had nearly forgotten how much fun it was to touch someone and feel them react and respond to his caress. He was having a difficult time kissing her while he smiled at her reactions.



“Mmmmm… Tone… you’ve got such soft skin” Vincent murmured softly in her ear as he captured her hands in his own. He proceeded to slowly explore her neck. He kissed a trail down her neck along the length of one tendon. He held her hands to her sides as he kissed her shoulders, working back up her neck. She stiffened when he nuzzled the spot right above where shoulder and neck met.



He chuckled in a husky tone as he whispered into her ear, “I think I hit pay dirt.”



He proceeded to run his closed lips across the sensitive skin under her ears. She gasped aloud when he began to nibble on her neck, her hips involuntarily pivoting against him. She threw her head back as a small shudder of pleasure coursed through her.



Only then did he latch on and begin to apply pressure.



She spoke hoarsely, “Vincent… stop… don’t… I’m gonna… oooohhhhhh… Vin.” He held her as still as he could while he licked the side of her neck, planting wet kisses along the length.



He grunted between licks and kisses, “I’m not… stopping… so get used to it.”



He said nothing more as he held her close to his chest, their fingers laced together as he planted his warm full lips on the delicate cords in her neck. Antonia made a humming noise that sounded suspiciously like purring.



Antonia squirmed in his lap and he tightened his grip on her hands. She could feel her nipples puckering in response to what he was doing to her. That and the idea that he was only giving pleasure and not receiving. It was as though he couldn’t concentrate on her if she was touching him. As much as she was enjoying the current stimulation, she couldn’t help but think how much better it would feel to have his mouth on her breasts and to feel her hands running along his back, rubbing his bare skin.



Antonia’s body tightened and shuddered as he continued to make love to her throat. Her begging words became incoherent babble as the impending climax released itself. “Ay, Vin… coño… ay, dios mio… uhhhn… ay, si!”



She slumped against his body as he freed her hands and hugged her tight, waiting for her body to recover.



She nuzzled her face in his neck, as she slowly caught her breath. “Wow… I forgot how sensitive my neck was.”



He laughed huskily, “How could you forget something like that?! He brushed her hair away from her face as he gazed intently at her. “I don’t intend on forgetting that choice piece of information.” Vincent lifted her face from where she rested on his shoulder to kiss her softly.



She sighed as she raised her hands to idly rub his chest through his t-shirt, “Well, it’s been a while. I guess I’ve put parts of my life on hold… like you have.”



She raised her head to look into his eyes as she spoke, “Oh, Vincent… I don’t care how cheesy it sounds… I want you so bad it hurts.” She ground herself rather wantonly against the now ever-present stiffness in his jeans. Vincent smiled shamelessly as he pressed himself against her, feeling her shudder against his length. “I want you too… but this sofa isn’t the place. Hang on.” He held her by the waist as he stood up and she wrapped her legs around him as he maneuvered them towards her bedroom. She hung her arms around his neck and kissed him along the length of his bearded jawline.



Vincent maneuvered them onto the bed, his forearms taking most of his weight as Antonia scooted herself to the center of the bed. He laid his body full-length against her as she stroked his jean-clad legs with her bare calves, trying to reach his bare feet with her toes. He leaned down and kissed the valley between her breasts.



She stroked his neck with her fingers, caressing his back. He arched his back to meet the movements of her small hands. He had almost forgotten how good it felt to be touched. Vincent settled his dark glossy head of hair between her breasts, inhaling her scent. He rubbed his hands up and down the length of her short summer dress. He slid his hands past the hem to reach the smooth skin of her calves and proceeded to squeeze them gently as he kissed the skin along the neckline of her dress, her blissful sighs making him harder by the minute.



Antonia massaged Vincent’s shoulders and arms, cradling his dusky head between her full breasts, feeling his warm breath caressing her skin, feeling the prickly hair from his beard graze against her. She kissed and licked the outer edge of his ear and nibbled on the lobe, feeling him shudder above her as his hands convulsed around her calves.



He blew warmly at the silky skin between her breasts, as his hands drifted slowly up her legs to undo the buttons of her dress. Antonia let her nails trace small tight circles on his back, sighing deeply as his lips kissed each newly uncovered patch of skin. Vincent pulled the dress open, letting the weight of the material part all on its own. He bent over to kiss Antonia’s hot skin along the stretch of dark teal-green lace encasing her breasts.



Antonia was torn between pulling Vincent’s face up towards hers to nibble on that lower lip of his, but what he was doing to do was quickly clouding her brain. He cupped both breasts gently in his hands to get used to the weight and lifted them slightly, pressing them together firmly. Slowly he lingered over to the left one, breathing hotly onto the skin before pressing his lips to it to kiss along the edge of the fabric. Delicately with his teeth, he tugged the cup down, to expose Antonia’s nipple to his eager mouth.



Unhurriedly he traced the outline of the pink areola wetly, taking care to make it as slick as possible. Vincent then exhaled quickly to chill the newly wetted skin. Antonia clutched at his head as she gasped loudly from the sensation. He watched closely as the nipple darkened, filling with blood and tightening from his attention. He raised his gaze slightly higher to view Antonia’s head slumped slightly to one side, her lips parted in another gasp of pleasure.



Returning his gaze to his work, he then kissed the taut nipple warmly and nursed it gently, flicking his tongue at the tip, up and down rapidly. Antonia’s breath caught in her throat occasionally as she gasped more and more as the wetness of his tongue made her warm skin cool instantly.



She braced her hands against his shoulders, his touch making her sway back and forth. Not wanting to leave the right one feeling neglected, Vincent traced light circles around that nipple with his index finger. Sucking more firmly now, Vincent drew his head backwards and let the weight of Antonia’s breast pull itself free of his lips. He returned his lips to her nipple and did it again. Antonia’s body arched with the sensation of being played with between gravity and Vincent’s sensuous lips.



As she lay beneath him, she brushed her closed thighs against his front, purring like a kitten as his lips and tongue played on her breasts, making her nipples stiffen to a degree she never thought possible. It was pleasure almost to the point of discomfort. Her body was aching from his attention.



She couldn’t remember the last time she’d made love and frivolously wondered the same about Vincent. Once again, his attentions brought her mind into a cloud of pleasure from which there was no escape… everywhere she turned, the cloud, heavy with presence, weighty with pleasure… the cloud rested upon her limbs like a physical essence.



Before turning his interest to the right nipple, he slid his hands behind Antonia’s back and unclasped her bra. Once she raised her arms to remove the bra, he slid her out of her dress as well. He then bent his head down and licked the valley between her breasts, softly nibbling on the underside of each breast for a moment, before quickly nursing the right nipple, unable to wait any longer, needing to feel the soft bud harden into a pebble on his tongue like he had done with the left one.



Placing one leg between hers, he offered her a place to squirm against. Antonia flexed her legs open and embraced Vincent’s broad thigh between her own, hissing at the sensation of his body-heat against her hot center.



Sucking gently on the right nipple, he hummed as his tongue met her flesh, sending vibrations from him through her. Antonia’s body shuddered as she slid her hands up from Vincent’s shoulders into his hair, to bring his face up to hers.



She softly brushed her cheek against his beard, sliding herself up close to him, running her tongue along where his lips met one another, tasting him, tasting her own skin on his lips.



They both moaned into one another, their tongues sparring sensuously with one another. Vincent returned the kiss softly, slipping his arms under and around Antonio’s waist. He pivoted his body and rolled them both over, so that now Antonia was on top of his body. He ran his nails along her bare back and down over her cheeks, running his large hands up and over her round ass again and again.



Antonia sucked on his tongue, tracing long thin lines along its length with her own, as she pressed herself firmly against him. Deepening the kiss along with their embrace, she cradled his head with one hand and pulled on his shirt with the other.



She moaned into his mouth, getting more and more aroused by his strong hands on her rump, caressing her, his fingers tugging at the lacy obstacle. She nibbled on his lower lip as she rocked against his strong, lean legs, knowing that he could feel her moist heat through her panties. She was certain she was leaving a slight trail of proof of what he was doing to her



Antonia ran her hands up the sides of Vincent’s body, tugging the t-shirt out from his jeans and slipping her hands under the fabric, against his bare skin, feeling his muscles shift and flex under her hands. His beautiful olive skin was like velvet, with a small trail of dark coarse hair leading downwards from his navel into his jeans. He sat up slightly to help her remove his work shirt and t-shirt.



He ran his fingers up her bare back and into her hair pulling on it just firmly enough to make her head roll back. Now, with her neck exposed, he ran his teeth along the length of her neck and sucked firmly. She hissed and arched her back, brushing her breasts against his bare chest, feeling skin against skin. She could feel her nipples pebbling from the sensations from his lips on her neck.



Vincent took one hand and placing it between them searched for the warm spot on her panties, sliding up and in past the lace, to feel her wetness unhampered. She gasped and sighed as she felt his hand working its way between them, she leaned towards him to kiss him fervently on those invitingly full lips of his.



Vincent moaned wantonly when he found short trimmed fur between her thighs and began gently rubbing the soft, nearly bare skin there. Her entire body in sync against his, her pelvis gently rocked against his hand, as his lips rested against her neck, nibbling softly. He removed his lips from her neck momentarily and took his time to suck on his moistened index finger and taste her.



Antonia smile lazily at him as she watched him taste her. She slid her own hand down, reaching for him. As rigid as he could be. Skin feeling taut to the touch as if it couldn’t get any harder. He inhaled deeply as he felt the touch of her hand along the length of his cock. His hips slid forward to meet her caress. She grasped him gently first, running her fingers along his rigidness, tracing the shape of the tip with one finger, feeling his blood pulsing, feeling his body heat even through the thick denim.



Vincent groaned deeply, almost a growl, as he lay back and let her feel his excitement trying to rise to the occasion in spite of its confinement. He reached out and took a firm hold of both breasts in his hands, content to cradle them while she felt his hardness, trying to control his eagerness and slow himself down.



Antonia made her grip on him tighten slightly. She then loosened it, stroking his length, feeling his skin shift as she ran her small hand over him again and again. He gently massaged her breasts, not simply concentrating on the nipples, watching closely as they continued to please him, knowing how sensitive they were to his tongue and his touch.



Antonia moaned as she continued to stroke Vincent, making him harder still as she rocked her body closer to his, gasping when he caressed the sensitive undersides of her breasts. “Oh… Vin… I’m so…”



Vincent slid his hands around Antonia’s waist and flipped them over together, with him now on top. She felt his girth stiffening further, as they moved with him atop her. He eased her backwards onto the bed. Spreading her legs wide, he hovered over her, casting a dark shadow onto her body. Bending down, he whispered huskily in her ear, “Would you like to feel what my tongue can do somewhere else besides your neck?”



She gasped as her weakening legs were forced to use different muscles from their previous position, looking up at him, begging him to close the gap between them with her eyes. She hissed a wanton “God, yes!” into his own ear as she undulated under him, prompting him. He raised himself off Antonia and shimmied her stretch lace panties down her full hips and along her shapely legs.



Vincent whispered roughly, “I cannot hear you, love.” His fingers glided slowly between her lower lips rubbing them gently as she cried aloud. He smiled to himself as he began kissing down her stomach slowly, down past her navel. She rubbed her legs together around his fingers, trying to attain whatever friction she could, whimpering loudly in delicious frustration. Vincent kissed each side of her thighs, careful not to kiss any of the petals of the flower in her center until he was ready. He felt for both her hands and brought them down there with him. His breath was directly centered on her and she could feel it when he inhaled and exhaled. He took Antonia’s hands and placed them on each side of her pussy. One long lick between them reminded him of the small taste he’d had moments ago.



“Ay dios, I LOVE that, feeling my hands held in yours, feeling you place them… ohhh… on me… where you… mmmmm… want them.” Antonia’s voice cracked with desire and need.



Vincent murmured, “Now spread your flower for me so I can see the bud.” Antonia used both her index fingers to gently separate her outer lips, letting him see the smaller folds deeper inside, sighing as she opened herself for him, feeling his heated breath on her tender skin.



He pressed his face to her center and surrounded himself with her moisture, making sure he gorged himself on her, snaking his tongue inside her. Vincent gently pumped her core with his tongue for all the wetness he could swallow. He hummed as his tongue trailed inside her, sending vibrations all over the inner walls of her cunt. His hands gently glided up Antonia’s sides and gently pinched her nipples as he licked deeper.



She held herself apart for him, feeling his hot breath and tongue pressing deep into her, she gasped aloud as he hummed against the hot liquid center of her pussy. He snaked his tongue north and found her clit and sucked it gently, loving the slickness he had created for it, his tongue sliding over it effortlessly. Antonia arched against his face, pushing her hot moist slit against his tongue, her little pearl of nerves throbbing against the silky wet roughness of his tongue.



He spoke to her pussy like a parent scolding a child, “I am not going to let you have me until you cum… so you are going to have to give me what I want.” Vincent then leaned forward again, reclaiming her clit and bobbed up and down on it sucking gently, smoothly. With the bud held in place by suction, he moved his head back and forth tugging playfully.



He removed his lips and sucked gently on one of her fingers that was keeping her sex open for him. Antonia moved his hands down her thighs so he could pull her against his ruthless tongue, as she caressed his head, wiping the sweat from his efforts to please her, her other hand came up to her own face so she could stifle her loudening gasps.



Vincent pulled her hand down, saying gruffly, “I want to hear you.” He delved deeper downward sucking gently on the delicate folds of skin. Antonia raised her head and looked down to where his handsomely tan face was flanked by her thighs and said, “Don’t stop, hold my hands… I’m so close…”



Holding her hands firmly, he said softly, “Then give me what I want.” He slid his tongue deeply between her thighs and up and around her clit, and began to suck rhythmically.



“Oh God,” she could feel that tell-tale tingle, his tongue on that tender piece of flesh, as she rocked her hips against his skilled lips and tongue. He sensed her orgasm beginning to crest, so he continued licking at the hot flesh before him, holding her hands and tugging on them gently. She could practically feel her essence bubbling out of her from everything his tongue and lips were doing to her.



With his tongue trailing between her folds, back and forth, she peaked, feeling the edge approaching her faster and faster. His few final kisses and nuzzles pushed her over, her head rocking from side to side, “Ay, dios mio… si… ay, que bueno!” [Oh my god... yes... ohh, so good!]

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