Eight months since the signing of the final decree. Eighteen months since a ‘friend’ had advised Vikki, (oh, so regretfully), that Nick, Vikki’s husband, had been a regular visitor to Cassy’s, another ‘friend.’
Over recent years there had been suspicions. However, the hurt of his cruel final blow had been unbearable. Worse for Vikki was the knowledge that while he was abusing (because it was abuse) her body, he was also presenting his substandard little wand to Cassy. It was a feeling worse than dying.
Now, on this early Saturday morning, as she awoke alone, Vikki rolled onto her side, allowing her fingers to fall, damp, onto her thigh. Fingering herself gave her little satisfaction. But, just maybe, there were signs that the old urges were returning.
She had become a cold, bitter fish for too long, avoiding all thoughts of that spiteful species— man. There were many men working in the publishing business where she was a sub-editor. Most knew of her situation and had been kindly, but none appealed.
But what kind of man could she trust now? A solid male body, ideally topped by a handsome face could be right. But where were warm lips, and gentle caressing fingers? Unlike Nick’s grasping, groping claws.
Saturday was traditionally Vikki’s time at the local gymnasium. She had been toning up for a few months now But, after awkward events on her previous visit, she knew that there were amends she needed to make. Last Saturday after greeting old Charlie at his entry desk, she’d joined the mixed sexes labouring at various pursuits, and, as ever, saw the ubiquitous guy in red vest and blue shorts, always pedalling, furiously, head down, on one of the exercise bikes. Only last week, he had been dismounting, and for a brief moment, their eyes had met. That had set her mind in turmoil.
Dark hair, brown eyes, a muscular frame, and what could be called a handsome face. So, what if he had fit most of the criteria she had set for much-needed relief? Beware, her inner voice warned, no more hasty, big mistakes.
But it was while Vikki luxuriated alone in the bubbling water at the jacuzzi that her doubt had been justified. Relaxed enough to close her eyes, she spread her legs near an inlet and took a full jet at the target she presented. Exquisite. Oh, how she wished-
“Room for one more?” And it was him, the red vest, and blue shorts.
Having hastily drawn her legs back into a seated position, and although vaguely suspicious, she could not deny, “Plenty of space.”
He had stripped off his vest before stepping down. Showing off his muscular chest? warned the voice in her head. Why was he here? Chance? Hardly, this move had been deliberate. Smooth talk would follow. Vikki had met this type so often. A so-called lady-killer. Was he likely to ease her ache? Definitely not. Then, further proof of his intentions, he stretched out his feet which had stroked along her soles. Her legs jerked to one side.
His murmured apology had done nothing to dispel her earlier thoughts. But she knew what his intentions were for sure. Wasn’t that all part of their act? These men. She told herself that she wasn’t going to be trapped that easily, was she?
The swirl of the water, the nearness of this man, was getting to her, and she couldn’t avoid it. Then he had given his name as Paul. Real name? How could she know?
First steps at familiarity? Beware. Oh, come on, Vikki. Earlier today you were admitting your need for a man. Her mixed emotions bothered her. But suspicion, mistrust, were hard to shake off.
She told him her name, and he replied, “Suits you. I’ve seen you here before.”
That’s when she’d decided she should get out. She excused herself, saying she had to get to the shops. Desperate as she had been, she wasn’t giving herself to a man so obviously on the make. After a few words of farewell, a tentative glance at the outline at the front of his wet thin shorts, Vikki had hurried to the changing rooms.
The shock and surprise had come near the exit, where Paul had already moved through. He even turned back to call, “Until next week.” What was it about him that bothered her?
That was when Old Ronnie had broken into her thoughts, “By heaven, Vikki, you are honoured.”
“What do you mean?”
Ronnie’s head shook, “Of all the women who come here, you are the first one I’ve seen Paul have anything to do with.”
He saw the puzzled look on her face, as he added, “He did join you in the jacuzzi?”
She gave a weak laugh, “Nosey,” she scolded. “So what?”
“Paul and his wife, Linda, were regular customers. Delightful couple.”
A wife. So, a lucky escape.
“Then came the car smash.”
“Car smash?”
“Driving alone from shopping, she was. Head on. Killed her instantly. The other driver, drunk as hell, bottle of booze on the seat beside him. Naturally, he’s in jail now.”
Shocked, Vikki felt her heart pounding. She had been so dismissive.
“But that didn’t help Paul’s loss,” Charlie affirmed. “He was devastated. Didn’t see him in here for a few months.”
Vikki had felt so terrible. Was what Charlie observed true? That she had been his only female contact at the gym? She had to find out.
Troubled thoughts filled her mind all week. Could be that, for all Charlie knew, there was a girlfriend away from the gym.
But she needed to apologise for her frosty demeanour, and could she then reconsider other things.
Now, here was Saturday at last. Feeling more tense than she usually would, Vikki wondered about the best way of approaching him.
Charlie’s usual friendly smile at the entrance, and she was inside the gym. Red vest, blue shorts, Paul was there pedalling as strongly as ever. Only this time, his head was raised, and Vikki’s problem was eased when he smiled, slowed, and said, “Good to see you.”
Almost lost for words, Vikki managed, “I need to talk to you, later.”
He looked surprised as he suggested, “Jacuzzi?”
“If it’s free. Half an hour, say?”
“Fine.”
The half-hour went slowly for Vikki. After raising a light perspiration, she hurried towards the jacuzzi, and her breath quickened when she realised Paul was there first.
He smiled up at her from the bubbling water, “Late again,” he teased.
Vikki returned the greeting, while quickly stripping off her jogging suit, mindful of doing a striptease, with her bikini no different from bra and panties. Quickly, she descended into the warm water and sat opposite him. He looked even more darkly handsome and when their feet touched as she settled it didn’t bother her at all.
She set to it immediately, “I wanted to say how sorry I was for my coolness last week.”
His bare wide shoulders shrugged, “I found nothing wrong with that. I might have been a mass murderer.”
Vikki hoped she could lighten the mood by saying with a smile, “You’re not, are you?”
He laughed, a charming deep sound, “No. I’ve given that up for a few days.”
A shared laugh and Vikki felt the warm wetness that wasn’t from the water. Now to push ahead with purpose, “Charlie told me about your terrible loss. I’m so sorry.”
Paul looked away, muttering a dull, “Thank you.”
Follow through, her inner voice urged. “Charlie also said something about me being the first woman he’d seen you approach.”
Paul’s smile was, sad, Vikki thought, “Charlie can be too observant,” And he looked away again as though searching for a response.
“Not true then?” Vikki pressed.
Paul’s dark eyes fixed firmly on hers, as he turned to face her. Vikki felt her heartbeat quicken when he made his unexpected request, “Look, this is not the place for such revelations. Would you allow me to take you to dinner tonight?”
Only slightly stunned by this offer, Vikki’s mind went racing. Dinner out could easily end with what she was beginning to hope for. “Are you sure?”
“I’d really like to get to know you better. Yes, I am sure.”
“But, what about---” She was near to mentioning his wife and realised that would be untimely. “Sounds like a pleasant idea.”
“Great,” he enthused. “Pick you up at seven-thirty.”
Vikki argued with herself about revealing her address, but if there was to be the follow-up she hoped for, her house, her bed, seemed to be logical conclusions. She gave him her address, and they were quickly out of the jacuzzi.
“I’ll look forward to it,” Paul told her, and hurried into the men’s changing room.
Excitement, anticipation tore at her all day. She wore a bare-shouldered, simple dark blue dress. The weather was warm enough. A white linen shawl over her shoulders completed the ensemble.
Vikki hoped her haste down the drive wasn’t too impetuous when Paul’s green BMW arrived. In a fawn summer jacket over a blue shirt, he moved to open the passenger door, commenting on her dress being his favourite aquamarine blue.
She hoped her response about him looking ‘Cool’ didn’t sound ridiculous. For the rest of the short journey to Larkin’s restaurant, they talked about the fine weather.
The evening went so well. The restaurant was everything she had heard about it and Paul was clearly a regular, as the head waiter, greeted him, before taking her offered hand and kissing it.
This was living, Vikki felt, and so special. At their table, they sat opposite each other. Paul had ordered beef bourguignon for two and got straight to the point.
As Vikki slipped her shawl from her shoulders, he watched her closely before asking, “Do you recall the last question you asked me at the gym?”
Vikki knew her expression was indicating her uncertainty, as he went on, “You asked whether Charlie’s comments had been true.”
God, yes, it was the very question she needed an answer to.
Paul took in a deep breath before he explained, “Well, first, I needed an environment like this,” Paul gestured around the lavish, high chandeliered area, before continuing, “so I could tell you that what Charlie said was absolutely true, you were the first—anywhere.”
Vikki’s heartbeat quickened, “Why me? That’s the obvious question.”
Paul looked down at the table for only a second, before he said, “Because you-‘
Pause, “-are the most attractive lady I have seen since—for a long time.”
Vikki had stopped breathing, feeling her face redden, as she absorbed Paul’s words. He had clearly been going to say since his wife. Dare she ask about her?
Almost telepathic, Paul looked into her face, his eyes moist, and said, “May I mention my wife, Linda?”
“If it pleases you.”
Eyes lowered only briefly, Paul went on, “The most beautiful woman I had ever seen. Three years older than me in age, ten years older in experience. She had the most lustrous black hair, and deep blue eyes.”
Vikki could see that even in the telling there was pain, but he continued, “You are nothing like her and that has helped. Your hair’s that tawny colour-,” he half smiled, “most lioness-like, with those green eyes. That’s what I named you before I knew you—lioness-lady.”
That made Vikki giggle, which helped her settle her growing embarrassment and the wild images of where this evening might lead. Here was the man who could ease her frustrations. Such compliments. Such promise. Such a change in disposition for her.
While they ate, she told him of her divorce and Nick’s desertion. Vikki was grateful for his show of understanding. His words of annoyance comforted her.
By the time they left the restaurant, Vikki had told him of her sub-editing, while Paul briefly mentioned being an aeronautical adviser. Driving to her home, they were well into discussing favourite books, films and shows, finding they had similar tastes.
But Vikki’s inner thoughts had her so pent up with excitement and desire, that when he opened the passenger door for her but did not offer his hand, she was vaguely disappointed.
That disappointment was to be manifold. First, at her front door, after thanking her for a lovely evening, Paul refused her offer of coffee, blaming an early morning meeting.
“You work Sundays?”
“Only occasionally.”
Her face must have shown her dismay, for Paul quickly went on, “I’d like to repeat this evening’s pleasant experience. Monday? Same time, different location?”
But Monday evening, so full of promise, had the same empty closure. As did the following Thursday’s meal at the up-market Algora Hotel. Great dining, cosy conversation, laughter, and Vikki’s raging libido. Yet, as on those other occasions, no follow-through.
Having agreed on a fourth date on the following Saturday, Vikki’s disgruntled mind was telling her that something had to give. How could he talk of attraction? Yet refuse her availability. Forcing the pace could have her looking like a slut.
If nothing happened on Saturday evening, she resolved to play hard to get. Clearly, her needs were greater than his, but if she stopped being so readily available. Well, they would just see.
Her first shock that Saturday was at the gym, nowhere the red vest, no heavy pedalling. No Paul. Uncertainly, Vikki completed her exercise and went home, wondering, fearing, that something was wrong.
She prepared herself as usual, showered, creamed, and perfumed, she was ready and hopeful. But, to her enormous relief, at precisely seven thirty, the BMW was at the end of her drive.
Immediately she was in the car and settled, she was seeking answers, “You were not at the gym this morning.”
Paul didn’t start the car, but half turned to face her, saying, “I’ve had a bit of a problem, and it’s taken some thinking through.”
Was it her imagination? Or was there a fresh look on his face as he regarded her? “Did you solve the problem?” she asked.
“I may have but won’t know until I’ve done some tests.”
His brown eyes seemed reluctant to leave her face as he turned to start the car. “I thought Larkin’s again, because it is our anniversary.”
Vikki laughed, “An anniversary of just one week.”
Then Paul said something that she didn’t quite understand, “It has seemed longer than that for me.”
Larkin’s was as before; the ebullient headwaiter kissed her hand, the boeuf bourguignon was as delicious as last time, the red wine was perfect. But throughout the whole meal, Vikki was aware of some differences in Paul. A difference she could not readily define but he seemed to look at her for longer periods of time. Extremely hopeful.
Then, as they left the restaurant, and crossed the car park, Vikki was surprised to feel his hand on her elbow, “Careful on this rough surface,” he murmured, but she could only dwell on his very first touch.
Outside her house, he opened the passenger door for her, but there was no more touching. She had resolved to get her offer of coffee in first, before he could say anything.
But, at her front door, as she turned to deliver her offer, she found Paul’s hands on her shoulders, drawing her close, and guiding her into the cover of the high hedging, as he murmured, “I have to know.”
With that, his mouth covered hers, already part open to deliver her invitation. Was this it? At first, the kiss was gentle, warm, and charming but as their lips parted, his tongue seemed to swoop across hers, delivering a vital charge to her whole body.
Paul’s arms wrapped around her, drawing her close. Briefly, she wondered whether she was feeling his hardness, but then she was lost in the wonder of his kiss. Vikki knew that this was what she had wanted it to be, only more so. Paul’s lips grazed over her own before moving in once more. Had she ever been kissed like this before, with such gentleness mixed with some hidden desperation?
Vikki’s mouth was a tunnel of electrification. Her mind soared as she felt the responses in her bloodstream and down in her lower body. Then she was puzzled by the wetness on her face. How was that? If they were dribbling it would be on their chins.
At that moment, Paul released her and stepped back, saying, “Now I know.”
In the pale light, Vikki was shocked to see the teardrops on his cheeks and the dampness of his eyes. She needed no explanation of the reasons, but guessed she was about to hear one.
“You are the first woman I’ve kissed since—that time. I feared I’d have a reaction, but you have helped that. I’ve wanted to do that since the first moment I saw you. Thank you so much.”
He leaned close and kissed her with gentle gratitude.
Vikki found sufficient voice from her whirling mind to ask, “You think I haven’t found pleasure in your attention? It’s just your attitude to my coffee that bothers me.”
They chuckled together, and she placed her fingers on his damp cheek, almost disbelieving this sudden surge.
“All right,” Paul said, “I give in. Coffee it is.”
“It might cost you at least another kiss—and more,” she said, opening her door.
“More?” he said with a fake gasp. “I may have to take my time.”
Vikki was thinking, that is exactly how I want it, slow and deliberate.
His closeness behind her had her quivering. As the door clicked closed, Vikki turned swiftly and exulted in Paul’s arms being ready to enfold her. Their bodies swayed very close as their renewed kiss was as warm and as hungry as earlier.
Heart pounding, Vikki reluctantly broke away to ask, “Coffee? Now or later?”
She read in Paul’s eyes the answer that was coming, “Later would be more appreciated.”
Nodding positively, Vikki took his hand and led him upstairs to her bedroom. She was a mass of uncertainties. This just had to be. Her moment of relief.
Alongside the new bed she’d had fitted since Nick, they undressed independently. Vikki thought their actions were quite natural, as though they’d been together for a long time. She knew that Paul, given his tears when they first kissed, could have other things on his mind.
It only took seconds for them to be facing each other, naked, only three feet apart. Vikki shivered at the look in his eyes as they travelled over her body. Her nipples made an automatic growth. “God, just as I thought. You’re gorgeous,” he told her quietly.
His body was as muscular as she had already noticed, but, wow, that baton between his legs, only half erect was something worth waiting for. But not yet, as one of his fingers reached out to gently stroke around a nipple. A slow burn started inside her.
To reciprocate, Vikki reached to stroke her fingers tenderly along that exciting baton. Oh, the heat of it, its immediate growth. Her hand gripped around it. But Paul’s body spasmed as he clutched at her, pressed into her, gasping, “Oh, no!”
Vikki was shocked as she staggered backwards, her legs struck the bed and she toppled onto the pale blue duvet, her hands clutching desperately at Paul’s buttocks as she fell, with Paul on top of her. Vikki wasn’t aware of any weight from him as, between her open legs, she was only aware of his solid rod plunging easily into her open wet world. Was this what she had longed for?
Paul’s climax was immediate, yet prewarned. Grunting and moaning, he spurted his seed into her. Oh, how she had hoped, expected, much more than this. Okay, he had an eighteen-month need, but so had she.
Act complete, his once mighty baton slithered limply out of her, and his seed trickled on her thigh. She reached for a tissue, as Paul rolled to one side mumbling his apologies, adding, “The very thing I feared.”
“You’ve gone a long time,” Vikki tried to comfort him and was startled by his next comment.
“Linda would have killed me.”
“You’re able to talk about her?”
Paul sat up and looked down at her, “I told you about my problem? Well, my problem was you, and my own state of mind.”
“You said you were testing.”
“That kiss was the first test.”
“And you just got through it,” Vikki said, hoping her smile was comforting.
“I did.” He paused, “But there may be others. As a lover, I was the well-known nerd. Linda taught me everything I know about a woman’s body.”
“I’m amazed that you can talk so easily about her.”
Paul looked away towards the lamplit curtains, “As I said, much thinking has been needed, even before we first spoke. I feared messing up our first meeting. Which I did. And this pathetic act of so-called intimacy. Well!”
It had been fascinating to hear how his mind had been working. “It was good just being that close,” Vikki told him, partly true, but more to ease his conscience.
“I promise I’ll be better next time. If you allow it.”
Vikki slid out of the bed, “I’ll go make coffee. You get cleaned up. Showers through there.”
She looked down at him, smiled and said, “Linda couldn’t kill you, because I did.”
And she indicated his limpness, glistening in the pale light, along his thigh.
He was laughing and moving out of the bed, as he said, “That was suicide.” Vikki slipped into her silken robe and went downstairs.
Making the coffee took a matter of minutes and Vikki was quickly back, ever hopeful, in the bedroom. No sign of Paul but she heard the swish of the shower in the en-suite.
She sipped at her coffee, hoping better to lay ahead. Within minutes, the shower stopped, and Paul came into the room, a towel wrapped around his waist. From that moment, whatever cool intent she had, evaporated. Oh, that body. Dumbly she indicated his coffee on the bedside table. As he took it and moved to sit next to her, she quickly stood, declaring, “I’ll get cleaned up now.”
“I’ll miss you,” he said quietly.
A quick semi-warm shower had Vikki feeling ready for anything. No, she laughed to herself as she sprayed her body with the essence of roses, ready for everything! Loosely donning her towelling robe, she hurried to where Paul sipped his coffee.
It was a delight to see him leap to his feet and hurry to meet her. Their embrace was tight, their kiss gentle. He flicked Vikki’s robe to the floor, and kissed her neck before growling, “Lie flat on your back on the bed.”
Taking charge now, was he? A wave of anticipation wafted over her. as she scrambled, naked onto the bed. As she lay back, she saw Paul discard his towel revealing his partial readiness. Vikki hoped that route would not be immediate.
But Paul kneeled alongside her, not yet touching, but his eyes caressed every inch of her, lingering where she was sure her wetness must show. His open inspection of her body was deeply arousing, and wildly carnal.
Vikki longed to scream, ‘Touch me. Feel me.’ But guessed that it might threaten what she was experiencing inside. Blood, flesh, and skin were all aglow as she knew the touch was coming.
“You have the most wonderful body,” he sighed, leaning over to kiss her and lick her under-lip. And before she could respond that first touch came. Multi-touch. His hands were everywhere over her, combing through her hair, pampering her proud breasts, stroking her flat belly, her thighs. While one hand squeezed and gently caressed one breast, the other circled her belly once more as though seeking a stopping place. God, he had her blood gushing through her veins.
Then with one finger only, on her enlarged nipple, he pressed and moved around it, and over her areola.
Could it be? Could one finger bring her so close to a climax? She had been so ready. But when his lips dropped to that same nipple and sucked, gently at first, but becoming more demanding, that did it. Vikki found herself aglow inside, body wild and free as she was compelled to release her gasp of utter pleasure. Almost unknown.
She may have settled for that one, but now and somewhere in all of that, there was another climax. When one hand covered her waxed mound, with the fingers pushing to part her thighs, and tickle into her wetness, Vikki had no wish to fight off a rapturous frenzy. Now she realised just how thorough Linda’s teaching had been.
She was on the verge of mentioning that when to her alarm his head moved down, and his lips and tongue seemed about to follow where his fingers were. Paul must have sensed her tension, as he stopped, and asked, “No go?”
“Nick always refused to put his mouth there.”
“Did you want him to?”
Everything she had experienced to this point had her sighing, “Yes. Yes. Oh, yes.”
Without further ado his lips and then his tongue were tasting her juices, immediately striking her fire. Vikki could not repress her cry of astonishment and ecstasy as he struck at exactly the right place. And then went on unerringly hitting the exact spots along her channel.
It had always aggravated her that men, even with just their fingers, so often groped around down there, finding the wrong place or a series of wrong places or sometimes, no place at all. When they did hit accurately it was one of her few joyous moments.
For a week she had suffered the annoyance of his reluctance to touch her. Now she knew what she had been missing.
And it was still happening. Like some searching serpent, the tip of his tongue dipped into her entry, while his fingers patrolled on back beyond her slit to linger around the ridges of her other tighter hole.
When her breathing became gasps, and her thighs trembled, he raised his head slightly to breathe, “You have any limits?”
No way would she stop this delirium, this euphoria she was feeling. She could only groan, “None. No limits.” And his inserted finger suggesting what total entry back there would be like, had her crying out once more on a wave of sheer passion.
Her reaction had Paul raising himself from her and asking, “Time for a real bang?” He moved to widen her thighs.
Vikki just did not want this to have a conclusion. Not yet. And then it occurred to her that she had been lying there, taking all that Paul provided, and had not even attempted to return the favour. Well, she considered herself wise enough to counter that, and this would certainly delay any real conclusion.
Accordingly, she raised her body, hands adding pressure on his shoulders until he rolled onto his back, and she was able to straddle him, in charge at last. God, she couldn’t get enough of him. Whatever was to come could never erase the memories of what she’d just had. She wanted to watch his face, wanted her sweat to drop on him, wanted his sweat to mix with hers.
Now she was grinding her damp bottom against his belly, chest and upwards as a second gift to his mouth, where she found more hot delight as his tongue briefly revealed his knowledge of pleasing a woman. Then Vikki was sliding back until her hot, breasts, covered his eager face. He went mad, bucked, sucked, nibbled, and licked until Vikki could have remained like that all day, in an unknown heaven.
She wriggled lower, her pulsing breasts, pausing hungrily over his solid cock. Instantly, his hand clamped over them rubbing them into his rigid hardness.
“Gotcha,” he laughed, “Want me to come all over them?”
Vikki did not. She saw the white droplet on the purple head, guessed he was close, and found the strength to pull her head free and over that bulbous head. Her mouth opened and her tongue was ready to lick that droplet when Paul’s hands gripped either side of her face.
“You don’t have to,” he hissed.
Vikki held her head against his pull as she said, “Did Linda do this for you?”
“Yes,” Paul whispered uncertainly. “But…”
“No ‘buts’,” Vikki felt more positive than she ever had. “You have used what Linda taught you to give me at least four orgasms. Surely, I can be allowed one independent return.”
After another, weaker, “But…“, Paul lay back, defeated. Vikki licked away that first tart taste, before taking the solidness of him directly to the back of her throat. Her mouth was filled by the immensity of him, yet she managed to manoeuvre her tongue over and around it, while she sucked furiously as she had many years ago on candy bars, but never like this on any man.
Occasionally her teeth nibbled gently at it, and it was a delight for Vicki to hear Paul vocalise his pleasure. His hips had started to jerk in response to each suck, and Vikki knew that he could not be far from off-loading into her throat.
Sure enough, within seconds of that thought, Paul’s body jerked, his moans intensified, his hands pushed at the back of her head, as the first surge of his juices poured down her throat. Pulse after pulse followed and Vikki swallowed rapidly to contain it all.
“Thank you,” he whispered when it was over. “But that won’t be the end, you know.”
“My pleasure,” Vikki replied, as he slipped from her mouth, adding, “God, I would hope not.”
And very gradually the new games began. There was no inch of either skin that was not explored by fingers, hands, lips, tongue, and teeth relishing the force of their mutual passion. Acts were repeated in mini form. She mounted him. He mounted her. His finger touched again at her rear hole. Vikki dared stroke into the ridged circle of his. A new daring for her, as he lifted and heaved. His face, roamed over her breasts, sucking and biting. His tongue made its direct drive between her thighs. Her fingers wriggled and squeezed around his hairless scrotum.
Vikki could not believe what her impulses were causing her to do. Was it only last Saturday that she had woke up to a basic need, her own fingers failing miserably? Could she go on like this? But more basic needs prompted her excitement, those orgasms had left a glowing desire deep inside her, that experience, however meagre, told her could only be assuaged by that special invasion.
The fire inside her burned low, but awaited stoking. There had to be magic in the air this evening. For with her thought came Paul’s plea, “Could we now seek…? Well, feel me.”
A little surprised at what he’d said, Vikki slid her hand down to discover that Paul had recovered from her blowjob, and was once again hard, large –and “Ready!” she called out.
“Are you?” Paul enquired.
“Oh, no. Miles off,” she chuckled, as she gripped him tightly, straddled him, and all in one eager movement guided him to where she wanted him.
But then Paul grabbed her waist and rolled her onto her back, legs wide, shocking Vikki with his strength as he went with her. She feared their momentum would be lost, but she soon felt the joyous reassurance of Paul’s baton going right into her, gliding through the wetness of her, in one delicious move.
Then he drew back and, although Vikki urged her muscles to respond, she knew that this was to be Paul’s triumph. So slow, his entry into her depths, so endearingly earthy. Vikki rolled her hips and couldn’t keep from crying out her orgasm yet again.
Paul whispered, “Calm, my dear, dear, lady. We’re not finished yet.”
Oh, his sweet words.
But his speed of pressure had increased, and Vikki found it wondrous that she was able to match him with the sway of her hips and the pull of her thighs. His breath quickened and, at the same time, Vikki had that rare sensation, that only once in a lifetime certainty, that she, herself, was set for the largest orgasm ever,
Paul was now lunging, not, but more vigorously into her. His gasps confirmed that. Vikki’s hunger was being teased. She knew that she must go with him when it happened, to make this finale, the paradise she longed for.
Her internal embers were flickering, threatening to burst into flame. Timing. She knew it was all down to timing. Listen. Adore the thrusting, love the squeezing of her own muscles. But listen. To his groans, his increasing gasps. Feel that tension through his muscular body.
Then it was there, his flow bursting inside her, accompanied by Paul’s sigh of release. It was now.
Vikki let go, took all he offered, as she became one single band of muscle, moving, twisting, flickering, and curving as a massive, longed-for orgasm overtook her. So much greater than what had gone before. Her flickering embers burst into hot flames of lust that flowed unchecked into her bloodstream. She was only vaguely aware of Paul’s juices continuing to pulse into her.
Their mutual sighs of pleasure were a duet. That did please Vikki. Then, exhausted, they relaxed.
Neither spoke for such a long while, as though, Vikki thought, each searched for the right words. Cosily couched against his shoulder, enjoying his arm around her, with his fingers resting on the side of one breast, she knew exactly what she wanted to say, but feared his reaction.
At last, Paul queried, “You enjoy that?”
Vikki almost laughed at the pointlessness of such a question, but her response was what she wanted to say anyway. “Linda must have been a wonderful teacher.”
Lying as they were, Vikki could not see if any emotion showed on his face. He was silent for a moment, and then said, “I believed the pain would never go away.”
Vikki squeezed his arm and raised her head and was surprised to see what could only be a half smile, as he continued, “Guys in the gym asked why I pedalled so furiously.”
Vikki had to admit, “I wondered.”
That half smile again as he said, “I had this mad idea that if I pedalled really hard it might drive the pain away.”
He lowered his head and thrilled Vikki with a kiss on her forehead, “And then, you came along, and added problem, and my thinking, my heart, my emotions were in a tangle.”
“Sorry about that,” Vikki said quietly.
“So now,” Paul went on, “you need to absorb the bad news.”
All Vikki’s growing hopes tottered like a tower of building blocks as she waited for his reasoning, “Bad news?”
“You’re trapped. I’m never going to let you get away.”
Instant relief and joy, as she joined in the mood, “But you might be a mass murderer.”
Paul shrugged and hugged her close, “Only if you ever try to get away.”
