Dear Diary - The Bottle

"Good game," he said when we met in the middle to shake hands.

He was trying to play it cool, but I could tell he was feeling proud of himself. As he should. He was playing much better tonight than he had last week.

I smiled at him. "I can tell you've been practicing."

"I took your advice. I'm not trying to force the ball anymore."

"Well, keep it up," I encouraged.

I wanted him to do well, and I'm glad he beat me in the first set to boost his confidence, but I wasn't going to roll over for him. At least not on the tennis court. I knuckled down and focused on my own game, and beat him in the next two sets, 6-4 and 6-3. Even though I beat him, the games were closer than the score indicated.

"It's amazing how much you've improved," I said in congratulations after the last game.

"Still not good enough, though," he said, though he was smiling.

I could tell he knew he'd upped his game and, despite the score, I hadn't blown him out like I had the previous week.

"I think part of your problem tonight was you were tired. I could tell you were slowing down by the third set."

"Yeah, I know, and you took advantage of that too."

I giggled. "A girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do."

I was tired, sweaty, and feeling wonderful. He'd actually pushed me a little tonight, making me work for my victories. It'd been a long time since anyone other than a few of the guys at the club that played near pro level tennis had been able to challenge me, and they were frustrating to play, because against them I was severely over-matched, and rarely won a game.

As we stowed our gear, wiped down, and drank water, I looked around. I was going to have him tonight. There were too many ears around, but as soon as I had a bit more privacy, perhaps in the parking lot, I was going to ask him to stay with me. We gathered our bags and walked out, still talking about the improvement in his game.

He stopped behind me as I tossed my bag into the trunk of my car. As soon as I shut the lid and turned to face him, he pulled me into a loose embrace, his arms draped comfortably over my hips, his hands on my ass.

"Lillian, will you come home with me tonight?"

I felt my face heat with his question, excited and relieved that he'd finally asked. I smiled. I had no change of clothes with me or I'd leap at the offer. "I can't, David," I said quietly as I watched his eyes, "but I'd like it very much if you'll come stay with me."

I watched his face, first crumbling in overwhelming disappointment, then lighting up with soaring elation.

He brushed my lips with his. "I'll need to stop and get a change of clothes."

I wanted more, so much more, but this was too public a place. As another car entered the parking lot, I contented myself with a caress of his face. "Don't take too long."

He took my hand and held it for a moment before he gently kissed my fingers. Then, just to be mean, he quickly ran his tongue between the first and second finger and smiled, his eyes full of teasing mischief.

"Naughty," I scolded, my voice light and playful.

He said nothing as he stepped back, allowing my hand to drag from his as if releasing me was the most difficult thing in the world to do. He walked to his car, tossed his bag in the trunk, and then paused as he opened his door.

"I'll be there as soon as I can."

I smiled at the thought. "Good."

On the drive home, I became so worked up that I was afraid I was going to have to mop out my seat with a towel. I pulled my car into the garage, hugging the wall to leave a space for David's car. I grabbed my bag from the trunk and hurried to the bathroom. If I was quick, I could grab a shower before he got here.

I was fresh from the shower, dressed in a comfortable pair of shorts and a loose top, with nothing underneath. I'd thought about putting on something sexy to greet him at the door, but I decided that was trying too hard. I was brushing out my still damp hair when my phone chirred with a text. David was about ten minutes away.

I opened the garage door, and good as his word, eight minutes later I heard the burble of a V8 pull into the garage. I opened the kitchen door and slapped the controller to start the door rumbling down.

He stepped out of his car, freshly scrubbed and dressed in dark blue pants with a lighter blue polo shirt. KonectVision was embroidered on the breast and I wondered about the name, curious if that was the company he didn't want to talk about, but that was for another time. I had one thing, and one thing only on my mind at the moment.

"You look good," I said as he entered the kitchen.

"Thanks. You're lovely... as always."

"Can I get you anything? A glass of wine?" I asked, trying to be the good hostess, then smiled when I realized this all started with a bottle of wine.

David shook his head as he gazed at me. "No, thank you. I don't want anything clouding my memory of this evening."

My heart melted a little more. He always seemed to know just what to say, and he always seemed so sincere when he said it. He didn't say it as if he was trying to flatter me, but in the same natural way someone would say the sky was blue.

"You're sweet," I purred as I moved in a bit closer, my desire for his touch growing.

"Lillian," he began, his eyes soft but serious, "are you sure about this? We don't have to do this if you're not ready."

I moved in closer still, almost touching him now. "I'm sure. I was going to ask you to stay, but you beat me to it. Are you sure?"

"I've never been so sure of anything in my life," he said as he surrounded me in his arms and took my lips.

I melted into him as he held me in a slow, warm, kiss. As I opened my mouth to him, he took my tongue, and then left my lips and moved to my neck, kissing where neck met shoulder, each press of his lips, each slow swipe of his tongue, a new pleasure.

I stood still, my hand softly on the back of his neck, and allowed him to kiss me. It had been so long since anyone had touched me like that, and I soaked up the sensations like a sponge. The thrill of beating him in a hard-fought match and the pent-up excitement from waiting... and his touch... the touch of his lips as his hands gently roamed my back and sides were sending my desire soaring to heights I'd rarely experienced. I wanted to stand there forever and feel the touch of his lips, but I couldn't stand it any longer as his nuzzling made me want to squirm.

I slowly pushed him away and then smiled at his look of concern. He probably thought I was going to shut him down again. I held his gaze as I reached up to caress his face, my smile never leaving my lips. As his face smoothed, I stopped my caress and took his hand as I began to slowly walk backwards, beckoning him with my smile. I held his fingers as I took two, three, then four steps backwards, my smile promising great pleasures if he were to follow, and then turned and towed him to my bedroom.

We coasted to a stop by my bed. I turned to face him, saying nothing, then loosened the two buttons on his shirt. Once the buttons were free, I slowly pulled his shirt out of his pants and then carefully passed it over his head. He stared at me, his gaze intense as he raised his arms to assist me. Shirt free, I tossed it over the back of a nearby chair as I admired his lean, muscled, torso. He isn't covered in throbbing veins and bulging muscles like a weightlifter, but as my fingers slid along his chest, I could tell he was immensely strong and well-muscled.

I liked that he stood still, allowing me to explore, not trying to rush me to the main event. I lower my lips to kiss his chest and felt a tiny hitch in his breathing. I almost moaned in pleasure, his desire pouring over me like rain.

As my exploring hand moved ever lower, I continued to kiss his chest while watching his face. His breathing was becoming harder and his face clouded with desire, but he continued to hold himself in check, allowing me to set the pace. My hand closed around his hardness, holding him through his pants as my lips continued to explore. There was another hitch in his breathing and his hand went to the back of my head, holding my lips to his skin.

His touch enflamed me and I felt unsteady, almost as if I were shaking after a great shock. I placed my free hand on David's side to help calm my nerves and give me balance. He was like a giant oak, solid and immovable, and he steadied me. I began to knead his cock while taking a hard nipple into my mouth, enjoying the pleasing of him. He breathed deep as I flicked at the point with my tongue, his hand wadding in my hair.

With another deep breath, he placed a finger under my chin and slowly, carefully, pulled my lips from his body and tipped my face up to him. He bent and gently took my lips in a long, luxurious kiss before pulling back. He took a step back and with infinite slowness, began unbuttoning my blouse, his gaze holding my eyes as he slowly revealed me. His gaze never leaving my eyes, he smiled softly as he slid the blouse from my shoulders, his fingers dragging along my skin leaving behind crackling trails of pleasure. He pulled the fabric from my body, tossed it into the same chair as his own shirt, and then set to work on my shorts. It thrilled me that he held my gaze, not looking at my body, making me feel there was more to me than a collection of parts. His fingers were nimble and practiced, working my pants open before his hands slipped inside to caress my skin as he leisurely slid them down. When my shorts cleared my hips and puddled in the floor, he held my gaze a moment longer, and then glanced down for the first time.

I'm in my early forties, and I was keenly aware of the effects of time and gravity on my once firm breasts. David was incredibly handsome, a man in the prime of his life, and he could have any woman he wanted. Would he want me, a forty-three-year-old woman, when he could probably have his pick of women half my age? I fought the urge to cover, forcing myself to stand tall and proud.

His gaze roamed my body for a moment, then returned to my eyes. He took a step in close, bringing his mouth to mine, but then paused, his lips only millimeters from my own, so close I could feel the warmth of his breath.

"My God, Lillian... you are so incredibly beautiful," he breathed as he closed the remaining distance and took my lips.

My relief at his words was so profound I thought I might cry. He thought I was beautiful! The sexist man I'd ever been with thought I was beautiful! I've had other men tell me I was pretty, or beautiful, but it always seemed like idle flattery, but not with David. The way he'd acted over the past two weeks, the way he looked at me, and the way he said it, caused me to believe he actually meant it. I wanted to leap in joy as my desires raged to new heights.

I snaked my arms around his neck and I molded myself to him as he pulled me in. His chest was warm against my own, and I kissed him with everything I had, my desire burning through me like a wildfire. I hooked a leg behind his and pulled myself tight as his hands went to my bottom, pulling me in tighter still, and I could feel his hardness pressing into my stomach as we devoured each other.

I pushed back, breaking his embrace, and began working at his belt, my hands trembling in excitement and desire. As his pants loosened, I slithered my hand inside and gripped his manhood. I wasn't sure, but I thought I could feel his manhood throbbing with every fast heartbeat, something I'd always thought was a myth, and having him so hard and turned on excited me deeply as I tugged and pushed his pants and boxers down with my free hand.

He stepped out of his pants and shoes. As I began to kneel, intending to take him into my mouth, he bent and wrapped his arms behind my knees and shoulders. I squealed briefly in fright and surprise as he lifted me, my arms instinctively going around his neck to prevent him from dropping me, but he held me as if I weighed no more than a bag of feathers. He carried me the three steps to the bed before he slowly released the arm under my back. I clung to him, my face buried in his neck, rarely feeling more safe or protected. His other arm still supporting my knees, he used his free hand to flip the linens back, causing some of the pillows to fly into the floor. His arm again around my shoulders, he gently draped me across the bed, following me down to kiss my lips as he slid his hands from underneath me. Being gently placed in bed had to be one of the most romantic things anyone had never done to me.

His skin was warm as his weight pressed me into the mattress, his kiss slow and erotic. I opened myself to him but he didn't take me, instead pulling back and rolling me up onto my side. The bed moved as he settled behind me and I tried to turn, wanting to face him, but he placed his hand firmly on my hip, another on my shoulder, and gently rolled me back to my original position. I tried to turn again as he tucked a pillow under my head, but he blocked me once more, forcing me to remain on my side. He slid into a tight spoon, his knees tucking in behind mine as he pulled me back into his chest, his hard cock pressing against my ass.

The position frustrated me. I didn't want to cuddle, I wanted to fuck! I tried to turn, more aggressively this time, but he held me firmly by the shoulder, pushing me slightly away, then lightly dragged his fingernails down my back. My skin became alive as a crackling electrical storm of pleasure exploding through me. I shivered with his touch as he reversed his fingers and dragged them backwards along my spine again. Reaching my neck, he again flipped his fingers over and started down my back. It was as if his touch was electric, his fingers pouring power into my body. This time, he didn't stop when he reached the base of my spine, his fingers continuing over my hip and down my thigh.

I moaned softly, the searing pinpricks of pleasure making my flesh pimple. His right hand snaked under me, wrapping me up as he began to caress my breast, his left hand sliding up along the inside of my thigh. He leaned in, his lips finding my neck as he gently caressed my breast, his left hand passing tantalizingly close to my womanhood. He was winding me tighter and tighter as his lips and fingers roamed, touching and caressing. He bit me softly on the shoulder before kissing away the sting, causing me to hiss, not in pain, but in pleasure. As his hand passed my pussy, I gripped his wrist, trying to steer his touch to where I desperately wanted it. He ignored my attempt, and I sighed as his fingers stroked across my stomach before making a lazy circle to slide past my vagina and travel along my inner thigh again.

His hands seemed to be everywhere, and even though he was obviously incredibly strong, he was also exceptionally gentle, his touch gossamer light. The way he touched and kissed me, I expected this would be a night of bliss unlike any I had experienced before. After an eternity of soft, slow, caresses, he touched me where I wanted him to touch, where I needed him to touch. I shivered and groaned with his caress, twisting my head as far around as possible, desperately seeking his lips. His lips found mine, and as our tongues explored each other's mouths, I gave myself over to him, allowing him to do with me as he wished.

As we kissed, he moved away from me, allowing me to roll to my back before lowering himself over me and covering me with his body. As he settled between my legs I began to kiss him frantically, the thought of him inside of me spooling me up. I wrapped my arms around him and held him in the kiss. He responded and embraced me, holding me close and tight, but he was holding back, not rising to the level of my frantic kissing. I squeezed him tight with my legs, thrusting at him softly, wanting to feel him inside, but he refused and slowly, gently, broke away.

I groaned in despair. I wanted him so badly. My need was like a living thing, clawing at me and demanding release. He moved to my neck, each touch of his lips a tiny explosion of pleasure. Breathing hard, he moved lower, kissing, sucking, licking, his lips never leaving my skin. He paused at my breast to tease my nipple to an achingly hard point. I moaned softly as I moved under him. He finally left my breast, and as he gradually kissed his way lower, I realized what he was doing and began to pant in anticipation of the pleasures to come.

After an eternity of anticipation and pleasure, he softly began to open me. His breath was hot and fast, heating me up even more as he slowly kissed and licked. His hands were roaming my body, covering me in soft caresses when he finally flicked my clit with his tongue. I gasped, shocked by the sudden flair of pleasure. As he slowly swirled his tongue around my button, I groaned in pent up need. He had me wound so tight I thought I might fly apart as my breathing became hard and fast. I couldn't be still as my body moved with a mind of its own. I wanted to scream. I wanted to grab his head in my hands, pull his face into me with all my strength, and drive my hips into him until I came. I wanted to face fuck him until I was exhausted, then have David plunge his hard cock into me and fuck me until he was exhausted. I began to thrash, my hands going to his head as he pleased me, my breath becoming harder and deeper as my climax began to crush me under its weight. I burned as I was consumed by my rising bliss, unable to endure, unable to stop.

I mewled softly as my orgasm crashed over me, ravaging me with its power. I groaned in erotic distress as I held him, my shoulders rising from the bed, chin tucked in hard to my chest as my body tried to curl in on itself in ecstasy. With a barking gasp, I released him and flopped back to the bed, wadding my fists in the linens, my back arching as I strained up with my legs, fighting to channel the orgasm as it cleansed me with its erotic fire. Finally, after an eon of sweet agony, I collapsed back to the bed, my rapture leaving me panting and weak.

When my mind finally started working again, I moaned from passion spent. I'd just suffered through the most intense, the most mind-numbing orgasm of my life. I was strung out and out of sorts, but David gave me no time to recover. His lips returned to my pussy and he began to softly lick and kiss. I was over-stimulated, his gentle touch searing in its intensity. I began to squirm, trying to break his hold on me. He doesn't pin me, but he'd wrapped his arms around my hips so I couldn't free myself from the brain melting pleasure of his tongue.

"No, David, no," I moaned, shaking my head side to side. "I can't take that anymore."

"You can," he breathed as he continued to please me.

"No. Please, no. Please. Please. I want you. Please."

He continued to kiss me a moment longer, making me want to scream in pleasure, then began to reduce the intensity of his licks and kisses, slowly bring me down. Finally, after an eternity of bliss, he left my pussy and began to kiss his way back up my body.

He froze.

"What?" I asked, sensing that something had happened.

"I need to get something," he said as he began to pull away.

"No! David, it's okay. I'm protected. Please, please, take me," I begged, not wanting to break this moment.

He hesitated, clearly unsure of what to do. I pulled him up and wrapped my legs around him to try to pull him into me.

"David, I want to feel you inside of me. You, with nothing separating us." I watched his face, reading the conflict. "I trust you, David," I whispered as I rose to kiss his lips. "Trust me." I could see he was weakening. "Trust me," I breathed again as I pulled him down with me.

He adjusted his position then slowly entered me.

"Yes..." I whispered, my eyes closing in bliss.

David wasn't huge, but he was larger than most men, stretching me more than any of my previous lovers, and he felt so fucking good! He began to drive into me slowly, gently, his lips caressing my neck and shoulder as each slow thrust inched me closer to another orgasm. I began to gasp as the pleasure started to overwhelm me. I nodded my head and encouraged him on with the sounds of my passion. He began driving into me harder, faster, drawing my orgasm near. I moaned softly, my hands roaming his body, and I delighted in the feel of him under my fingertips.