Lucia Comes Home

It's a rare occasion when I beat Lucia home from work, but tonight, I did. We're both professionals; we both work late. But usually, I work later than she does. Tonight, I was home by seven, even after stopping at the grocery for a roast chicken and some fresh rolls. But not home long enough to change out of my suit before she came home.

Lucia, ten minutes after. She walked in with her tight grey business suit on, with matching grey silk stockings--stockings, not hose--and modest, business-appropriate heels, her hair in a professional bun. I met her at the door, handed her a glass of white wine (a Manhattan in my other hand), and pulled her head in for a deep, long kiss. She broke the kiss, let her hair down and shook it out, and took a sip of her wine.

"Mmm, I missed you," Lucia said. I missed her too. Told her. Then, I told her, "you know how to show me." I led her by her hand into the living room, where a fire was just starting to go, let her take a long sip of wine while her eyes locked onto mine, and then took her glass. "You know what to do."

Lucia knew to dig into her purse for a ponytail band before putting the purse down on the glass coffee table, and to put her hair up. She knelt down, unzipped and unbuckled my pants, slid them down my thighs and to my ankles, and took my cock into her mouth.

"Lucia." She looked up. "We've been over this. What's a good little pet supposed to do before she takes a cock in her mouth?"

"Shit. I'm--she's supposed to have her breasts bare."

"Her what?"

"Her tits. She should have her tits bare."

"Good. Well, then."

Lucia stood back up. She took off her grey suitjacket, folded it neatly, and placed it on a leather stool that was near our coffee table. She undid her eggshell-blue blouse, and did the same. Her pale ivory bra, being relatively complex in its construction to contain her beautiful, and surprisingly large (given her frame) tits, was tougher to remove, but in a couple of deft movements, it was gone, and on top of the neatly-folded blouse and jacket. Lucia looked at me. I looked into her eyes, down to her wonderful tits, back up to her waiting mouth, and then again into her dark brown eyes.

"Lucia, please resume."

She dropped instantly to her knees again, lifted my cock with her left hand, and started to kiss the top of its length. I grew slightly harder at this and petted her head with approval. "The other side," I instructed.

At once, she switched her attentions, lifted my cock higher, and started kissing the underside. Now, of course, I became full.

"Open, Lucia." She did. She guided me into her mouth and started to work the first half of my shaft with her lips and tongue. Her eyes never left my face, although mine often left hers--to look at her naked tits, to look at her kneeling posture, even to look lovingly at her clothing, neatly folded on the leather stool. At once, I grabbed her ponytail with my right hand, and pulled her into me. Her nose touched my skin. I could feel her throat contracting and trying to reject my cock, but I kept her pulled in. Her breathing became less irregular, and more smooth, as her body naturally learned to relax, let my cock in, and as she began to breathe through her nose very smoothly and evenly. Some women like yoga; this was Lucia's yoga.

I began to fuck her face, but after about a minute, I stopped. "Lucia, I want you to lick and suck each of my balls. Gently. And I want you to touch yourself while you do it."

She stuck out her beautifully long tongue, and started lapping at each of my shaved balls, while she moved her right hand between her legs and pulled aside her panties. I watched her take one testicle and then another into her beautiful mouth while she fingered her nearly-shaved pussy.

"Lucia, you are doing wonderfully. You have me nearly ready to come. Finish it," I instructed, "and keep pleasuring yourself." And she did. She moved her mouth back onto my cock, and between her pretty, full lips, manipulated me so wonderfully that I soon erupted into her mouth, allowing her to take in every salty drop. I let her continue to kiss my cock and balls while she rubbed herself to orgasm.

"Stand." She did. I took her right hand in my left, and raised it to her lips. "Kiss it. Smell and taste how pretty you are." She kissed her hand, gave her middle finger a light suck, and offered it back to me. I, of course, kissed and sucked each finger slowly and in turn; I enjoyed the fingers that had not touched her as well as the ones which had. We looked each other in the eyes again, and kissed deeply again. "I love you, my sweet little one."

"I love you, too."

I pulled up my pants, straightened my tie, and smoothed my jacket. "Let's eat," I said. Lucia picked up her blouse and slid her arms into it, but knew enough not to button it.

With our careers, dinners are often random. Tonight, we have some store-bought roasted chicken and some fresh rolls, but we also work together to whip up a quick cucumber-and-tomato salad and to put out some olives. At an eight-person dining table, I sat at the head and she sat immediately to my right. Candles were lit. We ate slowly in our dining room, and talked as a couple talks, while we ate and drank our wine.

This is how we eat on a nightly basis; we are not a couple who jams pizzas into our gullets when we get the chance to enjoy each other's company with no interruptions. We cherish our time together. We finished in slightly under an hour; Lucia and I do not rush through our meals. We enjoy our food, and we enjoy each other.

"Is there dessert," Lucia asked. Of course, there is. But that is to come later.

"Lucia," I said. She looked up with those big, chocolate-brown eyes. "What is a woman to do before she begins a blowjob?"

"She should show her tits."

"Good girl. Did you?"

"I didn't, tonight. I screwed up."

"Please go back to the living room, remove your panties, and come back to me."

She did. I only can assume that they were folded on top of the bra and the suit jacket. I pushed my chair away from the dining table, and moved to the other end of the table, where there were no dishes. "Lay across my lap."

She did. I pulled up her skirt and ran my hands over her amazing ass. Lucia is fit, but has a little flesh there, which is exactly what I enjoy. "Five," I say.

"That's going to make me wet," she protests, "and ruin my skirt."

"That's why we have a dry-cleaner."

"But"


"No, no 'but,' I don't care if she smells you on your clothes. And it's ten, now."

I don't like to cause Lucia severe pain. She doesn't really like to receive it. We have a slightly kinky relationship, but it isn't pain-based. A little correction here or there, a little nudge in the right direction; that's what we do. Both of us. So the first spank was designed to make contact and to remind, but not to really hurt. As were the next nine. There were no tears in her eyes when I was done and she stood back up. There was no real pain; it was slight. There was merely recognition between us, and of course, love and desire.

"You mentioned dessert," I said. "I want mine." I placed my hands under Lucia's hip bones and lifted her onto the table, pushing her skirt up so that her beautiful naked bottom was right on the oak table. I spread her legs gently, and kissed each thigh before moving to her neatly-trimmed pussy. I kissed, licked, and sucked her to a very gentle orgasm, before looking at her beautiful eyes again. "I have dessert, if you want it."

Lucia looked down at my pants. "I want dessert."

"No, I mean it; I actually bought dessert. It's a peach, something, I don't know. With ice cream."

"Cobbler?"

"Yeah."

Lucia looked back down at my pants. "I want a different dessert."

We kissed again. For about three minutes, this time. I removed her blouse--no neat folding, here--and moved my mouth to her breasts. (They're breasts when I kiss them. They're tits when I talk to her about them.) I carried her up the stairs.

Lucia told me she wanted me in her mouth again. I had my doubts. I took the middle and ring fingers of my left hand and roughly--yet easily--slid them into Lucia's pussy. There was almost no resistance, but there was a moan from Lucia's mouth.

"You sure?"

"I'm sure."

I let her take off my shoes, pants, and shorts while I undid my tie and took off my jacket and shirt. I laid back on the bed while she started on me with her wonderful mouth again, and again with those big brown eyes looking into mine.

"I changed my mind," Lucia said.

"How so?"

"I want you to fuck--no, I want you to make love to me. Or fuck me."

"Really."

"Yes."

"My little one wants to be fucked? Or made love to?"

"Either."

Of course, it ended up being both.