Spring Delights in the Afternoon

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It was delicious bumping into her massage therapist.
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Selina told me he would be at The Lounge, around 9. I went with a girlfriend. When Alana and I arrived, he wasn't yet there, so we sat and had a martini. The lights were low, the DJ spun chill, relaxed and sexy tunes. Alana and I became immersed in our conversation, and forgot my mission. As we were leaving, I noticed him out of the corner of my eye in the corner of the room. We made eye contact, and I left. As I walked home, I could feel the intensity of his gaze upon me. We hadn't spoken. We hadn't even lingered over the look. But the nanosecond look confirmed my knowing that we would be fucking, eventually.

Selina was helping me make the moment. He was my massage therapist, she was a yoga teacher at his studio. How could I breach the professional dynamic he had done so well to develop? Not only did he soothe out my crunchy muscles, he helped me move deeper into my own body, and he walked me through all the trapped feelings in my body I didn't even know existed until he touched me. He handed me Kleenex under the table. He sighed with me as I exhaled deeply. He breathed through it all with me. We had been doing this for years.

So Selina said that the solution was to bump into him in neutral territory, where he wasn't rubbing his hands all over my naked body. Then I could make my proposition: I know you can't see me if I am your client, so why don't I stop seeing you for six months so you can ask me for a drink? And then he could run his hands all over my naked body.

After The Look I knew that the opportunity would appear soon. When there is that much energy between two people, attraction will draw them together. I no longer needed an intermediatry because I trusted it would happen.

Several weeks later, I was walking out of the flower shop on St. Laurent, the one a few blocks from Andrew's studio. I was carrying a bunch of tender nasturtiums. I was fresh, feeling alive. The air was damp with spring and the puddles glistened with beginnings. I felt the exuberance of being young, full of blood and sex. I wore my favorite outfit to celebrate spring, even though I was a little cold -- a red sundress with polkadots. After a long bath that morning, I had shaved myself bare, and I loved the feeling of spring air on all my delicate parts.

I bumped into Andrew. Right there, on the street, with my arms full of flowers and my legs shivery in the spring damp. We hugged. It was tight and long. He was really happy to see me. He asked me what I was up to. I told him I was going to go home and put my flowers in a vase.

You should come with me. We could have a lemonade on the deck. That is, of course, if you take lemonade on the weekends with your clients.

I think I can take a lemonade, he said.

We walked to my place together. When we stepped in, sun was streaming thorough the windows, and we could hear drips coming off the eavesdrops. We took off our jackets at the door, chatting amiably about the neighborhood, our favorite restaurants, that Brazilian place with the good shrimp. It was light and easy.

As we stepped into my apartment, he admired the view of the mountains thorough my window. I put on music; feeling the rhythms all through me. I took out two glasses.

He came into the kitchen with me and looked intently at me. I froze. We stared at each other. Very slowly, I turned to put the glasses back on the counter without breaking eye contact with him. The air was electric. As soon as the glasses were out of my arms, he leaned into me, putting his hands behind my head. He kissed me on one cheek, then the next, then my eyelids. By the time he kissed my lips, strong and clear, with intention and presence, I could feel the flush of dampness between my legs. I was standing stock still, arms at my side, my whole body focused on the kiss. His tongue was strong and sweet and gentle. He tasted simple and clean.

My body awake, I pressed my body into his. I could feel his belt buckle on my belly. As we kissed, I brought my arms around his back, pulling him in closer to me, feeling the length of his growing cock harden and press into me. He rubbed my back with his big hands, he pulled my waist closer to him, his hands wandering down to feel my ass.

Mmmm, he moaned into my mouth as he felt my behind. He drew his hands up my back, and deftly untied my dress from around my neck. My dress slid down to my waist, exposing my naked chest. He moved down to kiss my breast. One hand massaged my breast while the other was holding my neck, rubbing my neck and scalp. As he sucked my nipple, I arched my back and moaned. I could feel every cell in my body on high alert. As I arched back, I leaned into the kitchen counter, wrapped one leg around his waist and pulled him close to me. I could feel his cock under his pants and I wanted it in me. I had wanted this for so long.

We were panting and sighing, and beginning to move in waves against each other, kissing, pressing, pulling, and breathing. I lifted off his soft t-shirt and rubbed my hands against his broad shoulders and strong chest. I sucked his pert nipples and inhaled his manly scent. He smelled of herbs and musk and fresh citrus. I was crazy with lust and could feel my eyes glaze with desire.

He scooped his forearm under my thigh and quickly hoisted me onto the counter. I squealed a little in surprise and thrill. He laughed and kissed me on the lips again, as he slowly broke away from me, standing a few inches back from me. He looked at me, my heaving naked chest, my messy hair, my legs open for him. He smiled and said, "I have fantasized about you for so long, Ana Michelle." Imagining him masturbating to images of me coming only intensified the thud in my belly.

I looked at him and said, "Show me what you fantasized about then."

He smiled, and bending his knees a little, he hoisted me over his shoulder in a fireman's hold. I laughed and smacked him on the back. He carried me to my bedroom, and tossed me onto the bed, as if he had done it a thousand times before, as if this was his bedroom, as if we had loved each other a thousand times already. Laying me on the bed, face up, he stood up enough to take off his pants, staring at me while he did so. He wore tight black boxer briefs; his legs were muscled and lean. He was even hotter than he had been in the million fantasies I had played and replayed in my mind about our coupling.

Kneeling onto the bed, he slowly slid down the rest of my dress, exposing my panting belly. He sharply inhaled, and then lowered his torso to my chest. My legs were open, and he lay between them. He kissed my breasts, strongly caressing my torso, pressing into me with his body. He worked his way down, licking my tummy, rubbing my thighs. He pressed his face into my underwear, smelling me. He breathed hot air on my labia. I wanted him to tear off my panties and eat me. He began nibbling around the sides of my underwear, moving them over to the side to kiss and lick the exposed skin. Slowly, tenderly, he hooked his fingers around the top and slid them down my legs.

He repositioned himself with a serious look on his face. He meant it now. He leaned in to my slick pussy, and when he got to my tender pink truth, he inhaled my scent, fresh, clean, and heady, kissing my labia. He was driving me crazy. He sucked my outer lips, and kissed my thighs, rubbing everything. I was writhing in the bed. I could hear mellow strains of the jazz I put on in the living room, I felt we were becoming that music.

By the time he gently inserted first one finger, and then two, into my vagina, I was almost weeping. He slowly inserted and removed his fingers, pressing into my g-spot as he did so. How did he know my body so well, already? I started to cry, overwhelmed with pleasure, saying his name, over and over. He sped up the rhythm, and when I arched my back, he lowered his head again, taking my clitoris in his mouth, pushing away the hood with his tongue, and sucking the ripe, luscious bud in his mouth.

I felt the spasms begin in my thighs. Then came the familiar pressure, the rippling tension in my belly. I could feel the heaviness begin in my vagina.

Andrew, I whispered, I want you to come inside me. Now.

Just as I was beginning to come, he bent my knees by pushing them into my chest and hooked them over his shoulders. He pressed into me. His cock was huge, full, strong. I could feel the rippling begin. He stopped. I stopped. I could feel the contractions, but we were still. He inhaled deeply and I matched his breath. He slowed down my breathing with his. I had been lost in my own pleasure; now we were connected. Breathing in synch, deep and thick and wide, he pressed his cock to the entrance of my vagina. I smiled at him. I looked down and admired it: Like him, it was noble, gorgeous. I reached down and grasped it. He inhaled sharply and I led it into my vagina.

The feeling of his huge penis inside me and the sound of his ragged, lusty breath reactivated my orgasm. As he thrust deeply inside me, my orgasm clenched his cock inside me and began milking him. My whole body wanted to suck him deep inside me. The muscles on his chest contracted and relaxed as he rhythmically thrust in and out of me. I was coming and coming and coming. Bucking under him, I was losing control. The tension in my belly was mounting, spasming.

Smiling at the effect he was having on me, he became more serious. We were making love; now we were fucking. I grunted, loving the sloshing sounds of his balls slapping me with every thrust. He stopped, lifting me up, and turning me over. I was on my elbows with my face in a pillow with my ass exposed and wide for him. He pushed his cock back in me from the behind and pounded me.

Fuck me, Andrew.

He groaned when I said that, and I could feel the heat begin to pulsate up into me.

I gasped.

I was so tight and he was so hard.

We were slick with sweat. He came in me with shudders, gasps, and groans.

I was moaning his name, over and over.

He collapsed on me and I could feel his heaving breath on my neck.

I felt that I was moving in and out of consciousness, the pleasure was so intense. I was still twitching with the orgasm, running like electrified nerves through my body.

His breath was ragged.

I didn't even know if I could speak. But when he whispered in my neck, "wanna try that again?" I giggled.

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