The Proposal Ch. 03

Immersion Playground

Book #1: The Proposal

Chapter 3

Having elicited Todd's promise to not experience Rick's immersion without her, Charlie proceeds to torture him by not only refusing to experience the immersion with him, but withholding her sexual favors as well. "I'm saving myself for Saturday," is always her response to his seduction attempts, though she always softens the rejections with a long, lingering kiss. He's gone without sex for a week before, when he wasn't feeling well, or she wasn't, or any number of other reasons, but he's never experienced such sexual frustration.

Tuesday evening, as they prepare for bed, he's playing grab-ass with her in the bathroom. He's caught onto the game she's playing, but that doesn't mean he can't try... and if he can cop a feel of her sweet ass, so much the better. Then he notices the bruises on her buttocks and all the fun ends.

"Did I do that?" he asks quietly, pointing to her bottom.

"Yes, you did," she says sternly as she watches him in the mirror. When he opens his mouth to say something, probably an apology, the big softy, she turns to face him. Bracing her bottom on the sink she reaches out, grabs the front of his shirt, and pulls him to her placing her lips mere millimeters from his. "And it was sooo worth it," she breathes, covering his lips with her own on the last syllable, kissing him with as much passion as she can muster, forcing her tongue into his mouth while pulling him harder into her.

He hesitates only a moment, caught off guard by her apparent sudden change in attitude, before he responds in kind. He sucks in a great lungful of air and pushes his hips into hers, sending a pleasant little tingle through his loins.

After a moment she slowly pushes him away. "That's enough. I told you—Saturday. I need you fresh because I have plans for you," she says, before turning back to the sink to wash her face.

She waits a moment before looking the mirror again, seeing him standing there with an Are you kidding me? look on his face. She gives him a loud, lip-puckered smooch in the mirror, causing him to lightly scream, waving his hands dramatically in the air in mock frustration as he leaves the bathroom. She watches him go, smiling, but as soon as he is out of the room, she sags ever so slightly... much more of that and she would've lost her resolve. Taking a deep, relaxing breath, she begins to scrub her face again.

***

During their regular tennis match on Wednesday evening, Todd tells Rick of his plight at home. Charlie does the same with Giselle in their court, the ladies playing a slow, easy game in deference to Giselle's ankle. Rick thinks it considerably funnier than Todd while Giselle and Charlie giggle like schoolgirls doing something naughty.

Todd knows Charlie is playing him like an instrument. Each night she wears a little, or something a little more sheer, to bed. He didn't know she had so many skimpy underthings until he realizes that he hasn't see the exact same outfit twice in the entire week. Not only is she undressing in the longest strip tease in history, but each night her goodnight kisses become deeper, longer, more erotic, and more promising, until Thursday she adds a gentle caress of his testicles during the kiss. Never has he enjoyed a week so much, while at the same time so badly needing a cold shower.

Todd works in the advertising department of Quality Motor Cars. The Chinese have no flair for naming things in English, but then, he supposes, that's why they hired him. He and a half-dozen others are working to introduce the QMC brand to the United States.

Todd is in charge of the dealership campaign, trying to convince automobile dealerships to add QMC automobiles to their selection of brands, but he was having a hell of a time getting the campaign underway. The biggest problem is he can't get any straight answers from China on which car models will be arriving and when, their price points, their equipment levels, or anything else he can use as a hook. He has a meeting scheduled for Friday to do some bitching and yelling, demanding they get their shit together, but when Friday arrives, he is so preoccupied with Saturday he reschedules the meeting to the following Monday because he can't focus.

When he arrives home Friday evening, he finds Charlie working away in her office, a converted bedroom with walls covered in pictures of scantily clad and very lovely ladies. He notices the pictures—he is a male after all—but he really only has eyes for Charlie.

She looks up when he enters her office. "Oh good, you're home! I didn't feel like cooking tonight, so I thought we'd just have a salad. Is that okay with you?"

What he really wants to eat, slowly, and at great length, is sitting on that stool. "Sure. A salad will be fine."

When she joins him in the kitchen, he's already changed out of his work clothes into a comfortable pullover and shorts and is busy ripping the lettuce into shreds for the salads. A dirty cheese grater and a bowl of coarsely grated cheese sits nearby.

"Does this mean I have to clean up?" she asks.

"Nope. I'll take care of it. You can thank me in the morning."

"Oh, about in the morning," she responds brightly. "Giselle pinged me today. Her ankle is feeling much better and she wants to get a game in early, before the rain is supposed to start. I told her I'd love to play."

His busy hands stop working on the lettuce. He doesn't groan—not verbally anyway—but she can see his disappointment written all over his face before his hands start again.

"I'll ping Rick and see if he wants to play," he says, doing a pretty good job of keeping the disappointment out of his voice.

"Yeah," she mourns. "That's going to crimp our plans a little."

"It's okay," he says, putting down the lettuce head and wiping his hands on a towel. Picking up two dressing bottles and shaking one at her he says, "Zesty Italian Vinaigrette, or—" shaking the other bottle, "—vinegar and oil, or—" he looks over his shoulder to check the third bottle sitting on the counter, then turns back to face Charlie, "—Ranch?"

"What I think I really want for dinner," she responds with a suggestive smile as she begins to slowly unbutton her shirt, "is you."

Todd watches her a moment and then turns, saying nothing, and puts the dressing, lettuce, and cheese into the refrigerator. When he turns back she is pulling the tails of her shirt out of her pants, the front gaping open revealing her breasts in a silky lace bra. He begins stiffening immediately as he rounds the counter extension between them and takes her face in his hands.

She flinches slightly from their coldness but his lips on hers warms her up again nicely.

"Suddenly I'm not hungry, either. For a salad anyway," he says as he pulls back. She turns, and with exaggerated swishing of her hips, heads to their bedroom, saying nothing. He watches her go for a moment, admiring the view. She definitely still has it.

Only minutes later, they are spooning, nude, in the bed, Todd's front to Charlie's back. Normally they wear some form of sleepwear, but when she crawls into the bed with nothing on, he does so as well, guessing that she must not want anything to slow them down like the last time when they made love in the Chamfer's pool house.

"Do you really have a game tomorrow?" he asks.

"Yes. You do too. We're playing a foursome. Boy's against girls?" she asks, her voice rising in query to see if that is agreeable to him.

Todd stops caressing the top of her thigh, reaching over and down to the inside of her leg before drawing his fingers along the skin, up the crease where her leg joins her torso, along the hip, and back to the place he started. "I love boys against girls."

"Me too, but I'm talking about in tennis," she giggles.

"Oh. That will be okay, too," he says with a grin. "So you really were going to make me wait until in the morning?"

"That was my plan... but I can't stand it anymore," she says as his lips touch her neck, his hand lightly stroking her thigh, his touch warming her. He's propping on an elbow, so he only has one free hand, but he's making good use of it. "Are you ready to start?"

"The immersion... or something else?" he asks, pulling her buttocks more firmly onto his rigid penis.

"The immersion. The other... that will come after," she promises.

The bed moves as he settles more fully to the spooning position, his knees tucking in behind hers, his firm penis against her buttocks, chest to her back. He encircles her in his arms and pulls her snugly against him. "Ready when you are."

"Hold on tight, my love. You are about to have a hell of a ride," she murmurs. "And if you're lucky, you may get another one afterwards." With that promise, she enters the immersion, Todd joining her moments later.

***

Todd once again finds himself walking along a deserted beach with Giselle. She's so beautiful in the late evening sunlight, the rich red light from the sinking sun playing in her hair, the wind occasionally blowing it into her eyes. Each time she looks at him, pushing her hair back, his heart leaps. There's an anticipation that makes the walk in the sand with Giselle even more pleasurable than normal, but there's a sense of dread as well.

Her athletic build allows her to move with the economy of motion and constrained power of a jungle cat. She's wearing a black one-piece bathing suit with a white gauzy wrap around her shoulders, and he once again admires the poise with which she carries herself. With her strength and beauty, and her copper-colored hair and hazel green eyes, she is an Irish goddess given life. Though he has had his share of women in the past, she is the first woman he has fallen for, and he's fallen hard. As they walk along the beach, arm in arm, he occasionally, furtively, checks his left pocket, the side opposite her, to ensure the lump is still there.

They turn away from the water's edge and head farther up the beach to where there are four torches flickering in the wind. Below them is a light dinner of spiced meat, cubes of cheese, fresh fruit, and a bottle of wine spread on a large red blanket laid out the sand, the corners held down with large smooth rocks. A wicker basket contains more of the same, along with plates, utensils, and most importantly, wine glasses for two.

"Oh, Rick, it is lovely!" she exclaims.

Todd is flooded with a sense of relief. He's never been a romantic, and since all this is still new to him, he's always fearful of getting it wrong and disappointing her. He's been apprehensive that she won't like this attempt at a romantic dinner on the beach. Especially this night. He says nothing, afraid to speak lest his voice quiver, as he settles onto the blanket and reaches for her.

She curls into his waiting embrace, Todd slipping his arms around her waist and holding her gently to him. She's so warm, so soft, so beautiful. He bends and begins to kiss her gently on the neck, something he knows she likes.

"I love you Giselle," he whispers in her ear.

She makes a little sound of pleasure before twisting her upper body around. "I love you too," she whispers back, then, in a more playful tone adds, "But before that, let's eat! I'm starved!" She pulls herself away from him and begins taking plates and glasses out of the basket. The mood broken, he laughs lightly and joins in to help.

They spend the next hour nibbling on cheese, meat, and fruit, while sipping the wine. He is so nervous that he doesn't have much of an appetite, which allows him to pay special attention to her. He feeds her bite size morsels, going heavy on the cheese and fruit since he knew she can take or leave meat as a general rule. They've had many lovely dinners, but never one on a beach with the ocean lapping at the sand on yards away, and the lights of the California coast in the far distance. He smiles, guessing he did okay.

After clearing away the remnants of dinner, they lie back on the blanket, Giselle on her back while he props on his elbow, watching her, drinking in her beauty as she looks at the night sky. He lightly strokes her breast simply for the pleasure of touching her and, he hopes, giving her a little enjoyment too. She seems to be enjoying his attentions well enough, but is this the right time? Maybe he should be more serious. He watches as she closes her eyes, and when they don't reopen, afraid she might be starting to drop off, he decides it's now or never.

"Giselle?" he calls her quietly.

"Hmmm?" she murmures without opening her eyes.

"I want to ask you something."

Eyes still shut, she emits another questioning noise.

He takes her hands and carefully pulls her upright, causing her eyes to pop open in surprise. He reaches down and behind him and comes back with the small box he'd slipped from his pocket, so she wouldn't see the bulge when they settled on the blanket. He opens the top to display a diamond ring inside, the stone, less than a carat total, sparkling in the dim torch light.

"I know the stone isn't large, but it's perfect, flawless. Just as you are," he says. Then, taking a deep breath, he plows on. "Giselle Sheehy, will you marry me?"

She stares at him, silent. As the silence lengthens, he flushes in embarrassment. How could he have been so stupid to think she would have him? He sees the tears well in her eyes and he takes a breath, preparing to tell her it's alright, that he understands, when suddenly she throws her arms around him.

"Yes. Yes!" she cries softly into his ear, holding him tight.

Todd feels a huge weight lift from his chest as relief floods through him, and he has to clamp down hard on his emotions lest Giselle see him cry in relief. He gently disentangles himself from her arms before taking her left hand and sliding the ring onto her finger. He continues to hold her hand, looking at the ring, feeling like the luckiest man in the universe.

She pulls her hand free and once again wraps her arms around his neck. "I love you soooo much," she murmurs, and then sniffs.

Has she been crying? He hadn't even noticed. He feels her lean backwards, tugging him down upon her, and he resists her pull so he doesn't fall and hurt her. He lifts his head from her shoulder and looks into her face, seeing the tracks of her tears. No face so lovely should ever shed tears and he begins to kiss away their evidence. He kisses her cheeks and eyes gently, feeling his body and soul warm with his love. He only thought he loved this woman before, but those feelings are insignificant compared to the way he feels now. She turns her head, offering him her mouth. He kisses her lips as gently as he had been kissing her eyes and cheeks, just a brushing of his lips, before she grips his head, pulling him harder to her mouth. He responds, kissing her deeper, more passionately, their tongues colliding in a passionate embrace as he tastes the pineapple upon her, making her lips and tongue sweeter to him still.

She pulls her lips free from him and pushes his head down toward her breasts, but he moves his mouth back to her eyes, her cheeks, her ears, wanting to kiss every square inch of her. He nuzzles her neck in the way she likes, taking his time, kissing, teasing, enjoying her rising warmth, her increasing arousal stoking his fires. She pushes on his head again, trying to steer it lower, but he is enjoying her neck too much to be rushed.

She moves, and as he pulls his attention from the upper swell of her very lovely breasts, watches her squirm out of the upper half of her swimsuit in a way that would make Houdini proud. Oh yes... this is much better. He takes the suit and slips it the rest of the way off her and tosses it away carelessly. Never taking his eyes off her, admiring her exceptional beauty, watching her nipples harden in the cool night air, he removes his own shirt and tosses it in the same direction as her swimsuit. He begins to remove his swim trunks as well but changes his mind, wanting nothing except to please this incredible woman. He continues to watch her, captured by her beauty, still in shock that she would have him... the poor kid from the wrong side of town. When she reaches for him, he places his knees between her thighs and lowers himself gently onto her. Supporting the bulk of his weight on his knees and elbows, he begins to once again kiss her, never removing his lips from her body as he slowly works his way from her lips to her vagina.

When he reaches her breasts, he begins to kiss down the sides and underneath, moving his hands to help with his balance. Wanting to further please her, he sets is fingers to work, giving some attention to the breast not currently occupying his mouth. He swirls his tongue around her nipple, giving it little flicks while tenderly caressing the other with his hand, causing her to moan and writhe, bucking her hips into him. He settles more weight onto her hips to give some resistance to her thrusts, the motion of her body adding fuel to his already roaring fire. He wants her so badly he can feel his penis throbbing, but tonight is her night. She has made it a night he will never forget, and he will damn well try to do the same for her.

He moves on from her breasts, slowly working his way toward her womanhood. As he kisses, nips, licks, and sucks, moving ever lower, her quiet moans, her gasps and pants, her pushes and pulls, her apparent need for him fans his desire for her. He clamps down on his desires, his screaming lust, his need for her, refusing to yield to his body's demands as he focuses only on her on pleasing her.

Reaching her crotch, he slides his hands between her thighs, gently pushing her legs open so he can reach her inner thighs, Giselle moaning loudly at his touch. He follows his left hand with his lips, and she pushes her thigh harder into his mouth. He moves with her, continuing with his kisses, her squirming exciting him even more. Suddenly she grabs his hair and pulls, hard, making him to grunt in pain.

"Pleeease Rick, please..." she begs softly.

Todd starts to relent, but decides that she can take more, that he will make her as mad with desire for him as he is for her. Steeling his resolve, he ignores her cries for mercy and as soon as she lessens her tug on his hair, he resumes kissing her, but moving faster now, with more urgency.

When she releases her grip on his hair, he sees her reach for herself, trying to give herself the release he will not give her. No! Tonight he will take the joy she has given him and return a small portion back to her, he will prove to her he is worthy of her affections, show her that he exists at her pleasure, for her pleasure. His left hand snaps out and grabs her by the wrist. When left hand release his hair, he catches her other wrist with his right hand. She squeezes his head between her knees in frustration, trying to force her hands free from his grip, but he has her and he holds onto her firmly as she struggles.

She stops tugging on her wrists, their brief struggle over, and gives herself over to him, allowing him to do with her as he wishes. He releases her wrists, and as she relaxes her hold on his head with her thighs, he moves to her other leg to begin kissing his way back to her vagina. She shivers, and he looks to see her fondling her breasts, seeking to drive herself into orgasm. He moves quickly, burying his face in her womanhood, his tongue probing, sliding, stroking, and touching her most intimate places. Almost instantly her hands are upon his head, pulling him hard to her, her hips thrusting, her pelvis crashing painfully into his face. He doesn't care, the discomfort no match for his desire, willing to endure any pain in order to please her. He grabs her ass and, while holding her crotch to him, struggles to his knees, his tongue fencing with her clitoris as he rests on his heels. He has removed her ability to pull away, forcing her to endure her orgasm as he pushes her farther into pleasure, assaulting her womanhood with his lips and tongue. She writhes as a muffled scream of pleasure comes from her, and still he continues to probe and flick with his tongue, pinch and pull with his lips, driving her, pushing her deep into the flooding pleasure of her climax.