He lowered three cubes into the cup and slowly stirred the tea, his gaze once again freely roaming my body. He landed, at last, on my exposed knee and a smile crept up the right side of his face. I immediately moved to lower the hem.
“No you don’t, Hollywood.” Placing the spoon on the tray, he brushed the hem of my dress a little higher up my thigh. Returning to my tea, he lifted the small cream jug.
“Just a tip,” I whispered, my throat suddenly dry.
He poured the cream in, gave the tea another stir and then started to hand the cup to me. I reached for it, but he pulled back.
Sam looked at the shake still infecting my hands. “Can you promise me you’re not going to burn yourself?”
Closing my eyes, I tried to calm my nerves. It was ridiculous the way I was shaking. A trembling virgin — so very cliche, but absolutely true. I opened my eyes again, touched by the genuine concern that shaped his face.
“I can’t promise.”
Putting the cup back on the tray, he nodded. “We’ll have tea later. Right now, it’s time for cream and cake.”
“Cake?” I wrinkled my brow at him.
Another nod as he advanced on me. “Yes, baby. I love cake.”
His hands curled around my shoulders and exerted a gentle pressure, pushing me into the side pillows. When I was on my back, his hand wrapped around the calf of my inside leg and lifted it onto the couch as he slid onto his knees.
Pinching the hem of my dress, he slowly peeled it up the length of my thighs. “And, boy, do I love cream. Your cream, Amber.”
“I…we…uhm…” I tried to scoot up the couch, away from his fast descending lips.
“Remember, baby, simple stuff first.” His hands gripped my hips, stopping my retreat. “You want me to touch you.”
Yes, yes, yes! I took a shuddering breath in. I wanted him to do what he’d done at the wellness center. I wanted him in me, too. I wanted him to hold me, take me. I wanted to hear the rough whisper of his voice as he came with me.
“I do.” I agreed.
His eyes closed, his expression serene as he brushed a bristly cheek against the inside of my thigh. When he looked back up, I felt the heat of his gaze searing me. He palmed my mound, gave it a few rhythmic squeezes and then he thumbed the gusset of my panties to the side.
I knew I already was very wet. My juices had been flowing most of the evening. All it took was the briefest caress or contemplative look from Sam and I got all moist.
Sam stood and reached his hands out to me. “Baby, I want you in your bed.”
Holding his hands for support, I rose. My legs were trembling now, the heels suddenly dangerous. He wrapped his arm around my waist, steadying me. It took a full minute to get down my short hall. He pushed me up against the wall at one point, his hands covering my breasts. He mashed them, mauled them, his mouth possessing mine as the hard line of his erection pressed against my stomach.
Still in the hall, he stripped my dress from me. Sinking to his knees again, he pulled the waist band of the panties down to the top of my thigh. He nosed the fur covering my sex and then his tongue pushed through the silky strands to run a line up my clit. He pulled the panties down slowly, a lick for each inch he lowered them. My hips took up a slow grind.
Sam had me step out of the panties and then part my legs. He spread my labia, his teeth grazing my clit before he stood up and led me the rest of the way into my bedroom with only my heels and bustier on me.
Pushing open the door, I groaned internally. The room was clearly no man’s land. I had the same canopied double bed I’d slept in as a little girl. A duvet of white eyelet with pastel colored ribbons threaded through it covered the mattress. Lace fringed pillows rested against a headboard of pale tulipwood. More lace wrapped around the four posts that held the canopy up.
I lived in a Disney kind of bedroom — guilty as charged.
“Sorry,” I whispered.
Maneuvering me toward the bed, he gave a soft chuckle. “Don’t be, baby.”
He placed me on my back, center of the mattress. He raised my hands above my head, crossing my arms at the wrists. “Close your eyes, Hollywood. And keep them closed.”
Aching for the site of him undressed, I shut my eyes reluctantly. I heard him moving around, heard the crisp fabric of his shirt as he stripped it away and the rustle of his dress slacks as he stepped from them. He returned to the bed, pulled my right leg toward the right edge of the mattress. Climbing onto the mattress, he pushed my other leg to the opposite edge.
His hands slipped beneath my bottom and pulled me about a foot down the mattress. My pumps still on, he lifted my legs again, hooking the heels on the top edge of the footboard.
Eyes shut, legs spread, my pelvis tilted up, I felt completely exposed but not the least bit vulnerable.
Sam decided to tease me to the point of near madness. His fingertips traced the inside of my legs from my ankles up to the split of my thighs and back down again. Then he stroked the line of my pussy before kneading its plump lips.
“Baby, you’re all wet.” He tugged at the lips, stretched them to let his thumbs massage the edges of my tight hole. “Bright pink and swollen.”
“You know at the center, your legs spread, I could see you were untouched.” He swirled the tip of his finger in my juices. I felt the whisper of the finger’s pad inside me, stroking not at the sides but at some ultra-sensitive shield. “What drove you to make an appointment with Slow Hand Sam?”
My lips pulled back in a grimace. I felt guilty for even having heard him called that, worse yet for contributing to the rumors he had to live with at work. I grimaced, too, because I felt like a freak. What twenty-six year old woman couldn’t orgasm on her own?
“I had never reached climax,” I confessed. “I tried, on my own…you know? But nothing.”
“I’ll help you learn to enjoy your own body, Amber.” He sealed the promise with a kiss against the inside of my left knee. “But first I want to make you come for me. And I want to come with you — in you.”
“I want that, too.” I moaned in agreement. An unrelenting tension already possessed me, one that only Sam could erase. My bottom shifted against the mattress, sliding a little left, then to the right. “Can I open my eyes?”
“Not yet, baby.” His hair brushed my thigh as he lowered his mouth and covered my sex. He sucked at my clit, tugging and slurping at it like he hadn’t had a bite to eat in a week.
At the first lift of my hips, he broke contact, shushing and soothing me with his voice until I lowered my bottom back to the mattress. His big body must have been curled in a tight ball, as close as he was to the footboard, but he brought his mouth even with my throbbing circle of need. His tongue traced its edges and then I felt it flick inside me soft as the flutter of a butterfly’s wings. He was licking that shield, testing its sensitivity.
Shuddering with need, I wrapped my hand around my opposite wrist to keep from reaching down and touching him. I was impatient, wanting to see him, wanting to come again, wanting to come with him.
Sam stopped and blew cold air against my hole. “Soon enough, baby. You only lose it once and I want you drowning in pleasure when it happens.”
He lipped the spine of my clit, gnawed lightly at its tip before sucking it into his mouth. With the pads of his thumbs, he smeared my juices down to that other hole, teasing its opening as his mouth worked the length of my clit.
The tension in my thighs set my lower body to vibrating as I urgently whispered his name. I could feel the swollen flesh of my labia pull up as the muscles deep inside me started to contract. “Sam…oh…”
He eased back, letting my bottom grind against the mattress as his palms caressed my thighs. Only when I quieted again, the threat of my release retreating, did he return to teasing my pussy. More little licks inside me, his tongue sweeping the thin membrane top to bottom. One hand rubbed along the spine of my sex, the pressure of his touch firm and full of promise.