At the Summit Ch. 05

by Prof. Richard W.

(formerly of the University of ____________)

Late in 1997

"I don't think that I can wait to find out what Laetitia is going to do with Dean!" Sophia smiled at me meaningfully and laughed deeply.

She arose from her chair and advanced on me. Her curves and points showed up well, even in the cotton exercise outfit, especially as the look on her face and her manner of moving indicated a deep longing for something more than words from me. The faint traffic noise outside, the antique furnishings in the old Denver hotel, the clock that should have advised us of meetings missed and business foregone, all faded from my mind. My senses focused on Sophia.

I rose to meet her onrushing embrace. We held each other tightly, and she cradled me in her hot spot. I must admit that in retelling the story, I had grown very wet myself, and only the tight hold of my briefs had kept me from finishing the tale with a very desperate erection. She knew that as she explored me in our movement.

As we embraced, we struggled with each other's clothing. Even our casual outfits seemed too confining now, our hands too slow to do the job without help from teeth and body English. Sophia wrenched my slacks and underpants down in a rapid motion that would have hurt if I had been paying attention. I bent slightly to let them pass around my swelling penis, and crashed into the table. Dishes and silverware jumped up and fell back to the tabletop with a clatter. A drink glass toppled over, and icewater sloshed down our legs, but we didn't analyze that till later.

Freed of its usual daytime restraints, my manhood rose rapidly, touching her belly with its silver streak. She smiled lustfully, and stood on tiptoe to bring her sex to enjoy the touch of my madly rolling balls.

Without a complete word being uttered, we moved to the edge of the bed, and as I reclined on it, she moved over me. I plunged upward as she surrounded me, opening her body to my excitement. It was a wonderful old feeling now, new again with each inch of easy penetration. I swam smoothly in our mingled fluids, suddenly filled with the confidence of an athlete taking steady strokes that drew us on toward the wonderful shore ahead.

Sophia bent over me, leaning down to bring each breast to my lip, taking pleasure from the new positions which she brought to bear on myself within her. She whispered encouragement in my ear, and I drew in the scent of her hair as she urged me on.

Her whispers faded into sighs, and then to throaty indications of deeper pleasure. Circles of beauty tried to hold me, rippled around me, coaxed me, enticed me. A wave of heat spread out from Sophia's engorged vagina, catching me in its searing path, and then I had - no - choice. I shuddered within her embrace, she caught my energy and her whole body blushed as I flung my semen deep into her.

Afterward, we lay side by side on the bed for a long time, consciously wasting each minute of the day with each other. I kissed Sophia's cooling breasts delicately -- they were so touchy. She took my hand gently, and placed it over her vagina. Even though she knew my warming touch was coming, she still jumped slightly as I touched her curls.

"Hold me there, but just gently. I'm so sensitive now." She smiled girlishly, as if she was too naive to describe why she would feel that way. The dampness and residual warmth that I held in my hand said otherwise.

We drifted through a kind of meditative haze, the story of Dean and Laetitia and Michelle mingling with our own.

Eventually, we found ourselves chatting with each other in sweet, small bouquets of loving words - remembering how we had first met in the dining car of the "Zephyr" and savouring shared thoughts of our first night of passion led by our new friends Karen and Cam.

As we came out of the afterglow haze, these memories brought us back to the story that I had been telling Sophia, because, as she observed, we sometimes set out on a trip headed in one direction, and find ourselves going in another. (Dean had come to Denver wondering if he might be picking up the loose thread of an earlier part of his life, and now he was in bed with the passionately curious Laetitia.) Sophia cuddled closer to me and I resumed the tale in a low voice, feeling her response as the intensity of the scene caught her imagination.

Before the Summit in 1997

Laetitia's hands were at the waistband of Dean's briefs. She ran a finger teasingly inside the elastic as he bent over to kiss her, but the kiss was broken by an expression of surprise. Her finger had caught on a seam sewn inside Dean's briefs. There was a small crinkling sound.

"What is this?" she raised her eyebrows with interest. Dean laughed.

"I'll show you."

"I'm sure you will!" Laetitia said that with an eager and insistent tone, as Dean raised himself from the bed to slip off his last covering. She tried to feign calm as his penis came free, but a quick dart of her tongue over her upper lip betrayed her pleasure at being the cause of its rapid metamorphisis. Dean had not experienced this prompt a response in ages and it gave him a new feeling of command.

He slipped the briefs down over his muscular thighs, and urgently flipped them over his toes and into his hands. Reaching into the hidden pocket sewn into them, he pulled out one of the Japanese condoms for which Uncle Sam had paid so dearly.

"So that's what it was! I wondered if you would have something handy." Laetitia was intrigued. As Dean tore at the red and silver package, she asked the obvious questions.

"Do you always go around with one of those so close to you? Where do you buy clothes like that, anyway?" She was smiling, but really wanted to know.

"No, I don't do that." The veteran intelligence agent affected an exasperated tone. "I've got a couple of pairs of these briefs that I bought in the Far East - a seamstress in Saigon used to add these little pockets -- handy for all kinds of reasons."

Dean handed her the little package -- she took it reflexively, but held it up for inspection.

"Aren't there supposed to be instructions with every product?" she inquired.

"You don't want to read the sheet for these. Sagami Rubber Industries Co., Ltd. took every legal precaution in writing them. Let me give you the highlights of them."

"That would be better."

"Would you like to put this on me?" He paused, and looked her in the eye. For a moment he wondered if it would bother her, the way it did some women. He caught her eyes darting skyward for a moment as she considered his offer. For a moment he wondered how much of his careful teaching she had internalized.

"It's the sensuous solution when I have a man who isn't sure about using one."

Dean murmured his satisfaction as she put practical words to the suggestions which he had offered her through hypnotic suggestions in their day together.

Her eyes dropped to his rock hard erection. Dean noted that tiny, darting lick of the upper lip again. For a moment he thought of asking her to take him into her mouth, but he decided that could wait for later. Her education would come first.

"I've never done that before." She paused, thinking about what she had given as a reason. She remembered how Roland had balked at times when she had needed him to use one. Would he have felt differently if she had offered to prepare his shield?

Removing the latex ring from its opened wrapper - "red for good luck," Dean explained - she fingered it gently. Dean took her hand, and showed her how to place it. He was so firm, but loving in his manner, that Laetitia found this instruction to be exciting in itself.

Suddenly, Laetitia halted. She bent over and kissed Dean's erect staff-- one long, tender kiss. One of her lovely, rounded breasts grazed its swollen head as she reluctantly drew back.

"There are more kisses for your friend where that came from!" she whispered throatily, and they laughed. She had the same thought as Dean, but now felt the urgent need for his presence within her.

Dean stopped her now, and placing three fingers around and beneath his tip, he squeezed out a glistening flood of precum.

"This is for your analysis, Miss Scientist," he said in mock seriousness, and brought it to her clitoris. Swirling it around her, his fingers gliding in it, he renewed her swelling excitement with little coaxing. She sighed deeply as he withdrew his hand. Roland never, ever, had given her that.

"It is so simple..." she sighed.

"How do you mean?"

"There is nothing complicated about what you just did, but it feels so beautiful? Why did I not know that?"

"That's why we are here, isn't it? To learn."

She rolled the condom cautiously down his length, until the opening ring was in his curls. Her hand lingered, checking her handiwork, although he could tell that her heart pounded with eager anticipation.

"There are little bumps on it!" she observed. Her fingertips traced their pattern in the subtle lubricant which coated them. Roland always bought the cheapest kind when she did get him to wear protection.

"It's a Sakura, and they have little dots in them for your pleasure. It seems kind of subtle to me, but then I'm not a Japanese woman."

"I can see that!" They exploded in mirth, and then the laughter faded into deeper tones. Dean tossed the empty package aside.

"Shall we find out if their idea works?" He flexed with excitement as Laetitia touched him once more. The head of his penis swelled with that, and it moved with serpentine seductiveness in the warmth of her gaze.

She was blushing as she watched, but Dean's now quiet words calmed her. He was telling her how much he enjoyed her eyes on him, how she would remember that when she was with the man she would choose in the future.

"Focus your mind on this now," he whispered, and, as she was so comfortable and free of inhibitions in his strong presence, she wanted to do nothing else. "Try to describe what you are seeing, what you are thinking."

"It seems to have a mind of its own..." Laetitia murmured, pausing as she sensed her own readiness, her own need for him to be inside her. She felt hypnotized by watching him, as words, phrases in both languages came flowing out of her subconscious. Concepts which she never could have verbalized with Roland came easily, and once on her lips, seemed perfectly natural to voice. As she described her observations and the pleasurable flood of phallic imagery which was welling within her, "plaisirs du sexe" he heard her whisper, he eased her back on the bed.

He knelt between her legs, and told her that he wanted to take one more full look at her. And he wanted her to do the same with him. They drank each other in with their eyes. Her long legs extended around his, her curves flowed up from her hips and the light blonde curls of her secret triangle in a pleasant manner, and even laying down, the shape of her breasts, now firm with her excited readiness, was very pleasing. There was a bit of a pout to her lips as she studied him -- her eyes drew his with their intelligence, her blonde hair fell back on the pile of pillows. She seemed to float before him.

Laetitia saw him in a different way. Here was a man that she knew had lived a life of adventure. How many women had yearned for the moment when they would feel his powerful hands gently release a garter belt or sense the confidence in his steady cradling of their trembling vagina? She didn't care to think of the details, but she knew that now, after what apparently had been years of his lackluster marriage bed, she had reawakened the man in him. Every moment with him had been a joy, and now he was focused entirely on her. Thoughts of Roland now seemed so remote, a far off memory, business to be tabled indefinitely.

It must have only been a few seconds, but it seemed like an eternity before she could speak. Dean had said nothing as they gazed at each other.

"I need to have you come inside of me. I want us to be one being." Her words were a simple statement of fact, and she seemed unware of the double entendre.

"There's so much for us to share," Dean said. "Pull that sash that you wondered about earlier." He indicated the tasseled cord that hung down from the canopy of the bed.

Laetitia reached up from the bed, her breasts moving beautifully as she did so. Dean watched, enjoying the movement of her youthful muscles, and then enjoying even more the startled look on her face.

"There's a mirror up there!" Her pull on the sash had released the cloth bunting that was draped over a large-enough mirror hidden in the bed's canopy. In seconds, she went through a variety of expressions, and then again her eyes rested on his ready manhood. Laetitia's glance shifted up to the mirror and back - she could not decide where to let her eyes rest. Her very effort not to keep looking in the mirror, a view which showed her own pink-flushed ready body with Dean's, made her more excited than ever.

Dean took her hand, and led it to his covered tip. Touching her hand to himself, he told her to concentrate on him - not to look at the mirror for now, to wait until she felt no choice.

Relieved, Laetitia did so, and took into her dreams forever the sight of him coming down on her, his strong hips moving to position himself, her own moving to open herself to him, his rock-hard penis pointed into her, and then her eyes closing as her vision turned inside out.

Dean saw her opening as a beautiful flower of France blossoming in timelapse, rose colors extending out around him. He entered eagerly, youthlike, but then caught himself and glided smoothly, unstoppably, into her wetness. He had almost forgotten the wonder of entering a woman's passion-- feeling her closing/opening uncertainly around him, fluttering, and then her finding her own hidden powers, taking hold of him. Now that wonderful sensation was surrounding him once more.

For a moment, Laetitia was still the inexperienced young woman, used to a young man who came and went quickly. But then, as she began to relish Dean's subtle movement, her practice with the jades began to make sense. For the first time, she was an equal partner, and her eyes were opened. Without having to think about it, she was caressing him from within, holding him when he started to move back, guiding him, positioning him in the perfect spot. His velvet-covered steel shaft was hers to receive pleasure from, as much as it was his.

She opened her eyes and saw him looking down at her with lust-focus; he drew himself up and she saw that he supported himself strongly on one hand as the other swept along her side to her breast.

"Yes, Dean, yes!" she urged his touch to her hardened nipple. The waves of sensation rolled back within her, crashing against the feeling coming from within. Her fingers dug into his back, and Dean felt the joy of knowing that he was taking her to new places of excitement. He felt her legs sliding over his -- without plan, her feet were on his hips now, holding him even more tightly into herself.

She could not help glancing in the mirror, seeing her arms and legs around him, holding him -- and his powerful muscles moving in rhythm to her own. They were approaching the unity she so longed for.

"Laetitia, I must come."

Dean said it with quiet urgency, and in preparation, slipped his arms over her shoulders from behind her back, pulling himself hard into her. He felt her warmth against his heavily-laden balls, and probed to her inner ring. Leaning slightly forward, he kissed her, and in the motion, his intimate tool touched her G-spot. She moaned his name, gulping in great grabs of oxygen between repetitions.

She closed tight around him, and let the flood within her sweep both of them away. Her hands slipped to his tensed hips and felt an atypical trembling, and then the electric charge shot through them. He pumped wildly in her inner grasp, escaping, returning, and then she held him quietly, milking him for the last drops with such a loving smile that Dean in turn could not stop grinning and kissing her.

They lay together, floating beneath the mirror in the secret world of the canopied bed. They cuddled, talked, gave each other little kisses, and simply gazed into each others eyes, till they were too drowsy. Dean caught himself wondering, by habit, about the time, and then dismissed the thought. Laetitia, admitted wondering what her mother was doing, but that thought, too faded quickly as she glanced in the mirror again and saw Dean's relaxed body next to her own.

Finally, they confessed to each other their desparate needs for sleep, and Dean carefully rolled the heavy-laden condom down his half-slack penis. It would have fallen off had they not been laying so quietly next to each other. Laetitia watched with fascination, wondering what it might have felt like to have taken the creamy treasure into herself, and then as he pulled the crisp white covers over them, drifted into dreams beyond beautiful that seemed shared with Dean's.

It must have been long after midnight when Laetitia awoke. The oil lamp was out. Something had startled her. Instinctively, she drew her hand across Dean's shoulder to shake him awake. It took time-- he must have been in some other dimension. Finally his eyes registered attention, and she whispered urgently to him.

"There is someone out there. Outside the house in the yard, I mean!" She added the clarification when he looked puzzled. He still was waking up.

Without a word, but with a finger to his lips, Dean arose. Laetitia watched his fluid motion, but stifled a laugh as the covers came with him. Dean blushed, as his night erection, perfected by Laetitia's earlier attention and his interrupted dream, caught on the bedcovers and nearly dragged them off. She snatched after the sheets at the last moment, and he sprang loose from them as he climbed down from the bed.

With leonine grace, he strode across to a window. Laetitia was on edge, but ever the scientist, watched in the dim light shining in from the street with awe as his freed erection firmed up. Here was a jungle animal, ready to mate. Yet, as he approached the window, the primeval fight-or-flight instincts took hold. His erection slackened and then his organ dropped out of sight as he crouched by the windowshade. She shivered slightly-- perhaps from the night chill, perhaps from the tension, or -- she commented later -- from her unexpected understanding of the animal beauty of the moment.

On the walk outside, the gate latch clicked. He moved the shade a bit, and looked out. Tony, the young Hispanic man who had discretely dealt with their Lepiniste tail earlier, was leaving. He hitched up his jeans in a macho manner that led Dean to some quick conclusions; the would-be Latin lover retucked his shirt as he walked away into the chilly night. Then both Dean and Laetitia heard the front door close, and steps on the stairs from down below, moving with a light step past them and on upstairs. Dean returned to the bed, laughing quietly.

"Laetitia, I think that our "old maid" hosts were only teasing about their situation."

"They had a guest tonight?"

"Yes, at least one of them did."

Laetitia paused, and then asked "how do you know it was one?"

Dean affected a look of mock consternation, and tossed a pillow at her.

"You certainly have some big ideas for someone so young!"

"And you certainly are naive for someone so old!" She looked at his withdrawn manhood, and then added "and who is it had big ideas just a minute ago?"

They laughed and teased, then tussled and embraced, then kissed.

"Let me try an experiment," she said in an enticing tone that invited no disagreement.

In seconds, the Frenchwoman's lips were at his relaxed sex tool, coaxing, savoring. She cradled his uptight balls in her hand, enjoying their resumed motion in the warmth of her palm. Relaxed now, Dean suddenly felt a new wave of hormones, and Laetitia giggled with pleasure at the strong evidence of the success of her experiment. His penis swelled lazily, reluctantly at first, and then dramatically resumed its full form in her rush of warm kisses.