My Loving Family Ch. 15

Synopsis: Pete is becoming more comfortable with Sarah's "extra" assignments how that they have begun to swing.

Part III -- Our Story

Chapter Fifteen

Sarah and I were married shortly before Christmas. It was a simple ceremony performed by a justice of the peace in City Hall. Nonnie at tended, of course, as well as Willa and Ruth. Rick and Paula completed the guest list.

Afterward, we enjoyed a magnificent dinner at Brown's. Then Sarah and I retired to a honeymoon suite in the same residential hotel where Mr. Bose and Cynthia lived.

I wouldn't have wasted the money, but Mr. Bose had arranged it, and the bill was paid by Bose, Rothchild and Gibbons as a wedding present.

After I carried my bride across the threshold in proper wedding tradition, and we opened the bottle of champagne waiting for us in a cooling stand, we solemnly toasted each other.

I knew, of course, that she was naked under her dress, which stoked my libido even while I repeated my vows. Unlike the more provocative way she dressed when entertaining a client, she now wore a low cut, mid thigh length, spaghetti strapped light blue sheath with the color almost exactly the same as her eyes. A single strand of pearls bisected her chest calling attention to the beginning of her cleavage, pearl stud earrings, dark stockings and heels completed her ensemble. If her breasts had seemed to wobble and jiggle more than was usual as we had entered the judge's chambers, everyone present had politely ignored it.

Now, as we sat sipping our wine, Sarah broke the silence. "Wow!" she said.

"Are you feeling as strange as I am, considering our new status?" I asked.

Her eyes sparkled. "This is a second time for you -- but I've never been married before. This is going to take some getting used to." She nervously twisted her wedding band around her finger.

I nodded. "Buyer's remorse setting in already?"

Sarah grinned. "Hardly. I saw your hard-on while we were standing in front of the judge, and all I could think of was how good it would feel sliding into my married pussy."

"I guess some things never change," I said.

"Well, speaking of changes, now that we're married, I'll have to tell Mr. Bose to find another escort for his clients. . . won't I?"

That question had been uppermost in my mind since we had applied for a license and set the date. Sarah was looking more intently at me. "Well, won't I?" she insisted.

I didn't know what to say. My conventional side was urging me to agree -- yet the devil sitting on my other shoulder was reminding me how much I had begun looking forward to her occasional assignations. I recognized that feeling stemmed from a serious moral lapse on my part -- and yet . . .

I attempted to temporize. "I don't know," I said slowly. "How would you feel giving it up?" She started to reply, but I cut her off. "The thing is," I went on, "if I say 'yes', I'm afraid in time you'll come to resent me just like Amy did. . ."

Sarah was shaking her head. "Oh, no you don't," she said. "You can't put your trip on me. I've been completely honest with you -- how about showing me the same courtesy?"

Frankly, I didn't know what to say. She saw the indecision on my face. "Come here, dear," she said. "This is our honeymoon. Isn't it time we got better acquainted?" She stood and turned her back to me. "Unhook me, please," she said.

My fingers turned to thumbs as I clumsily seized the fabric and attempted to disconnect the tiny bits of metal at the top of her zipper. Finally, in frustration, she turned toward me again, put her hands behind her neck, and released the hook from its eye. I heard the quiet purr of her zipper being lowered while the fabric sagged from her body. She smiled, did a small bump and grind, slipped the straps from her shoulders, and stood before me, holding her dress in her hands, her firm breasts and taut, proud nipples betraying her arousal as she watched the expression on my face. Then she lowered her dress and gracefully stepped out of it, draping it over a nearby chair. Uncharacteristically, she posed, turned slightly to one side, one hand on her hip and knee partly bent, obscuring the sparse auburn hair that protected her mons. "Like what you see, sailor?"

I had seen her nude countless times during the time we had lived together, but she had never, ever, presented such an erotic picture as she did at that moment. Frankly, I was literally speechless as I drank in her beauty. Her hair had been arranged in to frame her beautiful, almost classic features. She wore a modest amount of eye shadow and mascara to emphasize her large blue-green eyes, and her lips had been coated with a glistening gloss and were almost as red as the crinkled areola and engorged nipples that topped her slightly pendulous, pear shaped breasts. The pearls she still wore contrasted beautifully with the darker tone of her skin.

My eye followed the slope of her softly rounded belly to the juncture between her thighs and the wisp of hair that covered her womanhood. Dark thigh high hose and heels that sculpted her legs completed the picture. Here was my very own Aphrodite! Sarah would never be more beautiful than she was at that moment.

"My God . .!" was all I could manage.

My face undoubtedly told her what she wanted to hear, and she smiled in return. "Here I am," she said, breaking the spell, "what you see is what you get!"

I swept her into my arms. She wrapped her arms around my neck, and we exchanged a deep, passionate kiss. Then, while we were still teasing one another with our hot, wet lips and tongue, I released her and began trying to undress. She released me and began to help by unbuckling my belt and lowering my zipper while I unbuttoned my shirt.

My cock had never completely softened, and now, as her cool fingers gently seized it after pulling my Jockey briefs down, it immediately began to stiffen again. She pushed me back. As my legs came into contact with the bed, I abruptly and unexpectedly sat down.

Sarah dropped to her knees in front of me. Leaning forward, she briefly skinned my foreskin back and licked the underside of my cock, teasing the frenulum -- that incredibly sensitive juncture of nerve endings under the head of any man's cock -- with the wet tip of her practiced tongue. Then she slid my foreskin shut and turned her attention to my shoes and socks, after which she stood and pulled my pants off my legs. "This is a one time deal," she said, grinning at me. "You're a big boy . . ." she leaned forward and while I admired the sway of her beautiful breasts, she closed her hand around my cock -- "a VERY big boy," she continued, "and the next time you can take your own shoes off!"

While she was talking, she had slowly, sensuously moved her body, kissing her way while sliding her breasts up over my thighs, my turgid cock, my stomach, finally coming to rest and flattening under her weight on my chest. Our mouths eagerly met and worked together while our tongues licked the other's lips, explored the secret corners of the other's mouths, entwined and caressed in a timeless dance of love.

I don't know how long we clung to each other, savoring the rich, silky warmth of a lover's skin, silently declaring our love for each other, but slowly we began caressing each other.

"I want you in me, Pete," Sarah whispered, "right now!"

As she spoke, she released her grip on my neck and rolled on her back, spreading and raising her legs. Just as quickly I was between her legs, resting them on my shoulders, while she reached down and fed my swollen member into her opening.

"Ahhh," she sighed, "this is so good, Pete," while I slowly worked my way into her yielding tissues. When our bodies were tightly joined -- when I could go no deeper -- we clung together and revelled in the rich sensations we were both experiencing.

Suddenly, Sarah's stomach muscles began to undulate. Her eyes were closed tight, and I could feel the ripples of her orgasm in her rigid arms and legs. I held her as tightly as possible, but she continued to experience wave after wave of a crashing orgasm.

This was something new! I was beginning to wonder what I should do when she suddenly went limp in my arms. The intensity of her orgasm had caused her to loose consciousness!

I continued to hold her until I felt her begin to stir. "What . . . what. . .did I really pass out?" she whispered as she opened her eyes. I silently nodded, and began stroking her hair and the side of her face. "You scared me for a minute . . ." I began.

"I scared myself!" she said. "Let me just lie here for a while."

I had lost my erection the moment she lost consciousness, and now lay, holding her in my arms, as I continued my gentle stroking. "Can I get something for you? A drink of water? Another sip of wine?"

"Wine would be nice," she murmured.

I rolled off the bed and pulled the blanket at the foot of the bed over her still body. Then I leaned over and softly kissed her closed eyelids before going to the dresser where the wine bottle rested. When I returned to the bed, Sarah was sound asleep.

Rick and Paula invited us to join them and another couple for a New Years Eve party. Since Nonnie and Ruth had plans of their own, we asked our hosts for permission to bring Willa because we didn't want her to be left alone on New Years Eve.

Sarah had been in touch with Paula during the week. I was surprised, when we dressed for the party, that Sarah wore the same revealing dress she had worn on our first date over a year earlier. Willa wore a snug black dress that emphasized her full bosom and fit snugly around her bottom.

It seemed very short, reaching only half way between her knees and hips, but what did I know about women's styles? Sarah had laid out a comfortable pair of slacks, a turtleneck sweater and a sports jacket for me.

It had not snowed for a week, and the streets were relatively dry, so we made good time and arrived at the O'Conner's shortly after nine and parked behind an old Caddy. Every light in the house seemed to be lit as we climbed the steps.

Paula opened the door and almost immediately gave me a hug and a kiss. "Happy New Year, folks," she said, taking Sarah and Willa by the hand and leading them around through the kitchen and downstairs into the rec room.

The spectacular blonde I had seen briefly at the lake shore when Sarah and I had gone for a boat ride with Rick and Paula stood in the corner talking to Rick. She was dressed in a shimmery dress that seemed to change color from silver to green and back, depending on her movements.

She walked toward us as we entered the room. A younger man, glass in hand, also approached us. I had eyes only for the blonde. She possessed a rare ethereal quality that captivated me before I even noticed that her abbreviated neckline threatened to spill her breasts at any moment, or that her brief skirt hinted at the lacy elastic bands at the top of her stockings.

Introductions were made all around, and I fell almost instantly in lust with Karen Olerud as I offered my hand and lost myself in the unfathomable depths of her liquid brown eyes.

Her husband, David, seemed to be a likeable young man. His forthright grip and friendly smile made me feel I had just met a friend. "I understand you and Rick work together at the shop," he said.

I nodded. "I'm just a poor wood butcher from the Territories," I said. "Rick is my boss."

David smiled. "From what Rick tells me, you're being pretty modest. I've been fascinated with the Territories ever since I was a kid. Maybe we can chat about them some time."

Paula interrupted us. "You're way behind the rest of us," she said speaking to me. "Let me get you a glass of Rick's special punch. Of course, if you'd rather have something else . . ."

I looked around. Rick was already leading Sarah and Willa to the impromptu bar in the corner. "No, punch will be fine, thanks," I replied. Then to David, "I've lived all my life practically within spitting distance of the Great Slave Lake. But that's as far as I've been into the back country."

"Fascinating," David murmured, but I could see I had lost his attention, and followed his gaze.

Sarah was already dancing with Rick to the muted strains of an old Guy Lombardo recording. She had both arms around his neck, which pulled her dress even higher on her thighs, and as I glanced in her direction I saw teasing flashes of bare skin above her stocking tops. Rick had one hand on her ass and seemed to be pulling her even closer. If Sarah objected, it wasn't obvious from across the room.

I felt a twinge in my cock as I watched her flirt with my boss. Just then I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned. Paula was smiling up at me. "You do dance, don't you?"

"Sort of," I responded. "At least slow ones like this." I shot an apologetic glance at David, but he was already walking toward Willa, so I put my glass down, took Paula in my arms, and we began to sway and shuffle in time with the music. I had to smile at the irony. Normal relationships usually begin with a dance -- ours had begun with a card game and had led through fucking to dancing.

Paula soon had both arms linked around my neck, and was pressing her lush body against mine, deliberately caressing my growing tumescence by rubbing her mound against it, and provocatively stroking it with a thigh she cleverly inserted between my legs from time to time.

I straightened up and looked questioningly into her face. "Tell me about your other guests," I asked. Paula smiled, her dazzling white teeth made brighter still by the party lighting in the room. "You mean Karen and David?"

Seeing my nod, she continued, "Those two are the original party animals. They both love to fuck, but poor David sometimes has a problem getting it up. You'll see."

Somehow, I wasn't surprised at either revelation. I had sensed that Karen was a free spirit the moment we met -- of course, I was probably influenced by her choice of bathing suits, if those scraps of cloth I remembered so vividly from that day on the beach could be termed as such.

Just then Karen stepped out of the gloom and tapped Paula on the shoulder. Paula glanced in her direction, shrugged, muttering something about freshening our drinks, and stepped back.

Karen replaced her, flowing into my arms as if she had always been there. Dancing with her was as effortless as gliding across a freshly frozen pond. I was keenly aware that the erection I had enjoyed rubbing against Paula's soft and compliant stomach was stiffer still as it met more resistance in Karen's midsection.

She looked up at me. "Are you always like this?" she asked, deliberately bumping herself against my cock.

"Only in the company of lovely ladies," I said. I listened in amazement and some embarrassment at the bold words I had just uttered. It was that damned rum talking!

"Whatever it is," Karen continued, "I like it. I think most girls would be complimented -- I know I am." She tightened her grip around my neck, and I felt her small, firm breasts press tightly against my shirt front as she rested her head against my shoulder.

I glanced around the room. Sarah was similarly entwined around David who was cupping her ass with both hands while they slowly shuffled around the floor. Rick was holding Willa much the same way. As Paula dimmed the lights, Karen stopped and took my hand. "Let's sit this one out," she said.

She led me to the couch. "Ahhh, this is much better," she said, sinking gratefully into the cushions. "I had a long photo shoot today, and I'm just a wee bit weary. Besides, my feet hurt."

"I'm good at rubbing feet," I said, again surprising myself by my unaccustomed boldness.

"That would be lovely," Karen replied, "But would you be a dear and bring me another drink, first?"

I nodded and walked across the room to the bar. I felt another twinge in my hardened cock when I noticed in the gloom that Sarah and David seemed to have forgotten the music or that they were supposed to be dancing. Instead, still standing in the middle of the room, they were locked in a passionate embrace, mouths joined, one of his hands under her skirt, massaging her ass while his other was around her shoulders. Sarah was also busy, one hand vigorously rubbing the lump in his trousers while her other arm was looped around his neck.

I didn't see them at first, but as I stood at the bar, pouring another glass of punch for Karen and one for myself, movement in a far corner of the room attracted my attention. I felt a twinge of jealous envy when I realized that Rick was seated in an old overstuffed chair, his pants open, while Willa was on her knees in front of him, sucking his cock deep into her throat -- she had never done that for me. It looked as if Willa's dress was puddled around her waist and Paula knelt behind her, her hands massaging Willa's bare breasts.

I hurried back across the small dance floor to the couch where Karen sat. She smiled as she reached for her glass. "Thanks, Pete. Remember your promise?" She held a foot up.

I glanced down and saw that she had kicked her shoes off. "Of course," I said, although I had forgotten it. I sat on the other end of the couch. Karen swung around and put her feet in my lap.

I began massaging her arches and her toes. She leaned back and closed her eyes. "Oh, Pete, if only you knew how wonderful that feels. . ." she said, digging her heels against my tumescence.

I wasn't sure what felt so wonderful, but I was enjoying myself, becoming increasingly aroused as I watched David sucking on Sarah's bare breasts while they lay on the same rug Paula and I occupied during our initial swing with the O'Conners. She had opened David's pants and was stroking his stiff cock at the same time.

Evidently, Sarah had curing him of any impotence he might have experienced.

Karen's heels were digging more insistently into my hard-on. I glanced back at her, and discovered that her skirt had mysteriously risen to mid thigh. Then, as I watched, she deliberately raised one knee, causing her skirt to slide down her leg, exposing not her panties, but a bald delta with an intriguing seam that disappeared between her thighs.

I know I must have gawked like a schoolboy as I stared at her tiny slit. And it was tiny. Her outer lips were tightly closed, giving her mons the appearance of a young girl's. I was instantly reminded of Ruthie's young pussy, although Ruthie did have a sparse scattering of genital hair.

I shot a quick look into her face, and discovered she was watching me with a look of amusement. "My feet aren't the only part of me that needs a massage," she said.

I ran my hands up over the calves of her legs, and began teasing the tender warm skin of her inner thighs. She reached down and gripped my wrists, pulling my hands into her delta. "This is the part of me that really needs a massage," she said as she spread her thighs.

Her bald vulva was as smooth as a baby's ass. I leaned over while spreading her vulva's folds with my fingers, and delicately touched the pink inner lining with the tip of my tongue, slowly moving my head up until I encountered a pronounced bump. I no sooner closed my lips over her hooded clitoris, gently sucking while humming "Old Man River" deep in my throat, when I heard her gasp.

"Ohhh, my God!!" she breathed. "I'll give you ten minutes to stop that!"

Encouraged, I repeated the maneuver, only this time, I tried to penetrate her inner labia with the tip of my tongue. She responded by pulling her legs back with her hands, exposing her rectum and perineum.

I can take a hint as well as the next guy, so I touched the rim of her rectum, then wet and tickled the tiny area between her rectum and vulva with my tongue, and was rewarded with, "Ohhh, yessss! That's the spot!"