In Love with Lori Ch. 07

I awoke to the smell of coffee, and the sight of Lori stretched out next to me, her china-white flanks barely covered by one of my shirts, lying on her side with her head resting on her hand, holding a cup of coffee and looking at me with her vivid violet eyes.

"Good morning, Princess," I mumbled, coming awake by degrees, and drinking in the sight of this dazzler of a girl who had, for some unknown reason, fallen in love with me, and who was destined to be my wife. The shirt she was wearing was open down the front, with only the last two buttons done up, letting her sexy pink nipples flash in and out of view, while covering her more private parts. With the shirt tail just covering her sexy rump, and her long legs stretched out luxuriantly, she looked cute, wholesome, and incredibly sexy.

"Good morning Darling Boy!" she returned with a beautiful white smile, before sitting up to sit cross-legged on the bed regarding me gravely over the top of her coffee-cup.

"This is the day, Davey," she noted, "We get my visa today, that makes it sort of official. Are you still sure about me, and what it means to you to take me on?"

I at up to face her, stroking her cheek, before letting my hand drop, to hold her knees with both hands and slide her closer to me.

"Never surer, Darling Girl," I stated, before pulling her in for a very satisfying 'Good Morning' kiss. Mmmm. Arabica. Delicious.

"I told you last night, all I want is you, for always, you are the one I want, and I mean to keep you now that I've found you!"

"You do say the nicest things, Darling Boy," she grinned, "I think I need to thank you properly!"

I held up a hand to forestall her. "Hold that thought, darling, I need to brush my teeth and have a shower -- after what we were doing last night, I definitely need one."

Lori looked at me with a look of lofty disdain. "I had a shower ages ago, I've been up since the crack of dawn, enjoying the Massachusetts morning sun, while you've been snoring like a hog in a woodshed." She looked so adorable, so breathtakingly sexy, with her open shirt and long folded legs, her thick mass of loose jet-black ringlets as she said that, with her glorious eyes fixed on me, that I hurriedly revised my plan to have a long steamy shower, and decided instead to basically run in, soap up, and run out again, shaving and brushing my teeth at the same time.

15 minutes later, clean, refreshed, freshly sanded-off and no longer smelling like road-kill, I slid on a bathrobe and wandered in to see my girl, make sure she was still on the boil, and to check on whether there was any breakfast. Lori had called up for a Continental breakfast, one of my pet hates. How can a man face the world on a coffee and a brioche roll? The only possible use for a brioche is to slather it in butter and jam, then see how far you can throw the bloody thing and make it stick; the French have a lot to answer for. Later, when Lori wasn't looking, I'd order a BLT, proper man-food! For now, I settled for a black coffee, extra sugar, I had a feeling I was going to need my strength...

Coffee done, I contemplated Lori, a very pleasurable task. She had remained on the bed, stretched out again, chatting with me while I had my coffee, looking almost unbearably sexy, and deliciously edible, and I could feel my interest starting to show. She could see my arousal, and stared at me, hint of challenge in her dancing eyes, so I accepted, stepping out of my robe and sliding onto the bed, next to her.

"So, little girl, what have got on under that shirt?" I asked her.

"What, under here?" she exclaimed in feigned surprise, "Can't you tell? Either I'm not the girl I thought I was, or you need to go back to medical school! Perhaps you should examine me, Doctor Man!"

I grinned. "I am, as always, at your command, Milady."

I slid my hand inside the open shirt to cup her fabulous breast, gently rubbing a nipple with my thumb, watching her face the whole time.

"Well, well, look what I found!" I smiled at her, trailing my fingers across her nipples, sending a thrill through her and making her nipples dance around captivatingly

"Umm, that feels nice, keep on doing that, Davey, don't stop."

I had no intention of stopping, so I continued, edging closer to pull her shirt open further, and ducking my head down to lick small circles around her other nipple.

"That feels even better, Davey, you've done this before, haven't you?" she smiled, her beautiful eyes brightening as I increased the pressure on her nipples, gently flicking and squeezing one and lapping and sucking at the other.

Lori sighed and lay back, forcing me to move right up next to her, and lean over to continue petting her sexy pink bubbies. Her hand slid down her flat midriff, and into the buttoned-up portion of the shirt, to tease and rub around her hooded clitoris.

She smiled dreamily at me, and pulled my head up with her other hand to plant a 50 kilowatt kiss on my lips, before arching her back to remind me what I had been doing before she distracted me so prettily.

"Don't stop Darling Boy" she murmured, delving further into the recesses of her shirt, her hand moving under the shirt as she rubbed and teased herself more vigorously, her arousal becoming more apparent as a pink flush spread down from her throat and across her breasts.

I was also becoming more and more aroused, with my hands on this delectable creature and her tempting nipples. There is something so incredibly erotic about a lovely naked girl wearing a man's shirt, so much more sexually suggestive than if she were completely naked.

By now, Lori was writhing around gently on the bed, her breathing deepening as her arousal level climbed, and her free hand drifted to the back of my head, gently but firmly pressing my mouth against the nipple I was so avidly licking, sucking and nibbling. Her other hand worked at her juncture of her thighs, still hidden from my view by the buttoned portion of the shirt, rubbing, gliding and flicking herself, controlling her rising arousal. Soft murmurs escaped her as she began to approach her orgasm, and she began to writhe and murmur in time to the rhythmic movements of her hand as it rubbed and teased her clitoris.

The end, when it came, was in a series of waves that rolled through her, making her whole body quiver and shudder with the intensity of her release, her head thrown back and her eyes half closed as she rode it out, breath coming in shallow gasps as her face flushed and her grip on the back of my head tightened, then relaxed as the waves died away.

"Thank you, Darling Boy!" she said when her breath and senses returned, smiling shyly at me, "Are you sure you still want to keep me, even after what I told you, what I planned to do you?"

"Baby-Girl, I promise faithfully I will always want you, and whatever you thought you were doing, it was what I wanted, even if I didn't know it at the time; all that matters to me is that you and I are together, and we're always going to be together." I dug back into our childhood, to our old promise that was sacred, impossible to break. "I swear on Mummy-Bum!"

Lori pealed with laughter at that, remembering the times we had used that when we were young, usually when Lori had broken something, then she would get me to make the oath not to tell mother that it was her, and I had never broken it, nor had she; now she fully believed I was sincere when I told her I loved and wanted her. And I was.

"Come here David, you darling, lovely man, I have something for you," she whispered.

I, still so very stimulated by what had just passed, moved in close to her, holding her close as I pecked her lips, her nose, her adorable chin, between her eyes, fumbling with the last buttons on her shirt.

I slid the shirt back, bringing her beauties fully into the open, gently sliding one arm under her so I could encircle her waist with my arms, moving my hands down to clasp her lovely bum, pulling her tight against me to share a long, slow kiss with my gorgeous American sister.

Eventually, Lori broke off our kiss, to kneel up on the bed, hand moving to my crotch to fondle and stroke my burgeoning erection, pumping and squeezing the engorged flesh to stimulate me further, although the sight of my darling girl, kneeling next to me in the morning summer sun, wearing nothing but an open shirt, was playing hob with my libido anyway! Lori slid the shirt off, at last fully naked, her lovely breasts dancing slightly with her movement, stirring me even further

Now she started slowly sliding her thumb across the tip of my penis, spreading around the bead of lubricant seeping from me, gently catching the edge of her thumb in the slit, the delicious sensation causing shivers to radiate around my groin and causing my sphincter to clench in time to her movements.

She motioned for me to join her, so, folding my legs under me, I knelt-up to meet her, my tongue darting out to lick her lips and lick under her chin as she smiled and tilted her head up. I reached for her breasts, but she shook her head, smiling. "This is for you, Doctor Man", before dipping her head down, to slide her lips over the shiny purple mushroom-head of my straining glans.

My breathing deepened and slowed as the sensations from my cock mounted up my spine, and my hands moved to her slowly bobbing head as she licked and curled her tongue around the head of my penis, sucking and teasing, sliding her tongue inside the slit in the glans, gradually increasing the suction and rubbing as my own arousal increased. Her hand continued that slow, pumping, squeezing motion, as her bobbing head slowed, but the suction increased, her cheeks hollowing with effort, and now, her free hand moved to cradle and gently, rhythmically, squeeze and release my scrotum, in time to the rubbing of her tongue over the head of my penis. My hips began to tremble and strain as I fought the urge to hold her head still and ram my cock into her delightfully warm and talented mouth.

At last I could take no more. My breathing rate had increased until I was almost gasping, hitching for breath as I tried to contain myself, to hold back, to keep this exquisite torture going for as long as possible, but Lori obviously felt the glans swell in her mouth, preparing to ejaculate, and, with a final rasp of her tongue across the swollen tip, pulled her head away, with me following her up to try and keep my cock in her warm, wet mouth. This was what she wanted, and as she withdrew my cock from her mouth, she pumped once, twice three times, hard, in quick succession, and gave my scrotum a firm squeeze, finally tipping me over the edge. Spunk boiled out of my cock to spurt across her beautiful mouth and neck in long splashes, my over-stimulated senses releasing me from all restraint. She continued squeezing and pumping my cock, as more semen shot out and splattered on her fabulous breasts, to run down in slow oily-looking rivulets and drip in slow-motion tatters from her erect nipples.

Finally dried out, I slumped back down on my haunches, hands behind me on the bed to support me, waiting for my hammering heart to slow, while Lori smiled sweetly, enigmatically as she picked up her shirt (my shirt!), wiping the drips of semen from her face and chin, her breasts, and her thighs and knees, finally wiping the last drops of seminal fluid off the end of my oozing penis, and giving me a quick wash with her tongue for good measure!

Finally catching my breath, I grinned at her.

"Catholic School?"

"Sunday School" she grinned back .

"Really, though, how the hell did you learn to do that, Baby-Girl?" I asked her curiously, and not at all pruriently. I was not interested in hearing past gory details, neither was I concerned in the slightest, that was in the past, dead and gone, but I was fascinated to know how my darling girl had learned to do such amazing things to me.

She looked at me with her lovely eyes sparkling with great good humour, and answered "David Denham, I will say nothing except to tell you that it's safe for you to assume that I did not spend my teenage years serenading cuddly bunnies in the forest. Just be grateful I don't do this for a living!"

I roared with laughter. Lori's vulgar, rude comment had just made my day, and I pulled her close to me for a thank you kiss and a quick fondle. God, she was wonderful!

"Later," I began, "when I get my strength back, remind me to monkey-fuck you, I think you deserve that, you tarty little trollop!"

While I lay back recovering, something occurred to me, and I braced Lori about it.

"Darling Girl, one last question; why, when you have a closet full of clothes over there, as many bathrobes as you can eat, and a credit card with no sharp edges, do you keep wearing my shirts before I can get to them?"

Lori smiled slowly, guiltily at me. "Darling Boy, I wear them because they smell like you. It's weird, I know, but I have to keep smelling you!"

"Baby Girl, they've all been washed, fabric-conditioned, thrashed, concussed, pressed, folded and shoved in a flight bag, all they smell of is that 'lavender freshness' they advertise so much on TV, Besides, all I ever smell of is Hibiscrub, Lifebuoy or Head & Shoulders, so how can you tell what I smell like?"

She shook her head, bottom lip stuck out stubbornly. "You're wrong, David Denham, they all smell exactly like you. I could find you in a cellar on a dark night with my eyes closed, just by your smell. If I thought I could get away with it, I'd sleep every night in one of your shirts; the smell of you is driving me wild!"

"Please don't do that Baby Girl, they're from Asser and Turnbull in Mayfair, if only you knew who I had to sleep with to get them. Unbelievably hot as you undoubtedly look dressed in my shirts, I still have fuck-all clothes here, and I'm rapidly running out of clean shirts, so please, pick one to sleep in, just let me have some of my clothes to myself!"

Something I had once read in a medical journal surfaced; something about women and enhanced olfactory stimulus and response under certain conditions, and I thought 'Oh-Ho, verrry interesting, could it be? Already?'

Lori pouted even harder, looking even more adorable. "Davey, I love sleeping in your shirts, I love smelling you all night long, I love being wrapped in your smell, so, no, I'm going to keep wearing them, all of them, so get used to it! If you want more shirts, let's go buy some with that unlimited credit card of yours, but I warn you, I'm gonna wear them as well!"

Grinning to myself, hope and expectation flaring in me, I gave in. How do you argue with the most beautiful girl in the world?

After a shower together, where, by mutual consent we kept our hands to ourselves, we got dressed and once more headed into town, to collect Lori's passport, do some shopping, and generally mooch around, see what diversions Boston had to offer.

When we arrived back at the Consulate, we were ushered into Richard's office, where, to Lori's surprise and delight, Aunt Sophie was sitting with him, drinking a cup of tea and looking cool, elegant, and stylish.

Richard shook my hand, roguishly giving and accepting a hug and kiss from Lori, and Aunt Sophie also stood, to graciously give me her hand and a small peck on the cheek, a murmured "David, darling", and a full hug for her new 'daughter'.

"Business first old son" said Richard. "I have here the letter and Loretta's passport, and a few caveats, as is normal under these circumstances. Upon entering the UK, if not before, Loretta has undertaken to marry you, in any legally recognised and constituted form, within 3 months, or the visa will be revoked and she must return home. She will be allowed to work, as I have stated in my letter, under the usual constraints applied to a United States citizen residing in Great Britain, until such time as the marriage has been solemnised and registered, at which time all such constraints shall dissipate. Furthermore, should you be blessed with children before the statutory residence period required to qualify for citizenship has been reached, said children will be citizens of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland, her Colonies and Overseas Dependant Territories, as well as automatically acquiring full citizenship and rights of residence in all member states of the European Union. I have asked that a confirmation letter be issued by the Home Office in London, and copied to the UK Borders Agency, so there should be no difficulties when you arrive. Do you understand the obligations and requirements you have undertaken to comply with as the conditions for accepting this visa for the purpose of entering the United Kingdom in order to contract lawful marriage and abide in that estate?"

Lori nodded silently, eyes wide.

"Then, Miss Loretta Louise Cavenham Keene, Dearest Lori, may I be the first to congratulate you and welcome you to the United Kingdom, in the name of Her Britannic Majesty, Elizabeth the Second, by the Grace of God, Queen of Great Britain, Her Dominions and Dependent Territories, and Head of the Commonwealth of Nations."

(I was aware that this, the whole speech etcetera wasn't the usual protocol, or rather it was, but never used, because it was boring and dull, but Richard was making a production of it for Lori, hoping, I suppose, to impress her with the nature and history of the country she was hopefully going to make her home. I was less than impressed, but then I'm blasé about Britain's history because I'm from there, I know what they used to get up to; I'll elaborate no further, except to say that Britain's history isn't all about great monarchs ruling in imperial splendour...)

Lori sat, wide eyed, her eyes glittering like violet diamonds, absolutely still, as the formal speech rolled on, until Uncle Richard stepped around his desk, offered her his arm, and handed her passport to her as he raised her up.

She still said nothing, just looked at him, until I nudged her, whereupon she once again hugged him, whispering "Thank you, you wonderful man!" Her eyes brimmed over, and I scrabbled for a handkerchief, feeling a bit wet-eyed and weak-kneed myself; it was finally real; my girl was coming home with me to marry me!

Aunt Sophie hugged Lori again, saying "Come with me dear, let's fix your makeup, the boys are taking us to lunch, aren't they?" with a meaningful look over her shoulder.

Ladies Who Organise, never, ever cross them or get in their way!

I could only grin and nod foolishly, anticipation tingling in my whole mid-section. I didn't want to go to lunch; I wanted to pin my girl to a bed and nail her backside to it with my cock!

Richard looked at me in twinkle-eyed amusement. "I know that look, y'know, you looked just exactly like your father for a second there. Calm down, old son, you have all the time in the world!"

The ladies came back, and we headed out for lunch at a charming little French bistro Richard knew.

When we'd finished, Sophie announced she was taking Lori shopping, politely telling me to get lost, I'd be in the way. I asked Lori to get me some cotton or linen shirts, no man-made fabric, and left them to it while I strolled with Richard back to the consulate, chatting about life and family, and then went shopping for a present for Lori.

3 hours later, I wandered back to the consulate, as agreed, to be met by Lori, Sophie, and another heap of bags, boxes, and packages.

Lori showed me the shirts and underwear she had bought me, and I gave her the present I had bought her, an antique blue-tinged diamond pendant.

"It goes with your eyes, Kitten!" I told her, while Sophie looked on approvingly, "and it's also for your wedding day; you know, 'something old, something blue', and so on."

I hadn't forgotten Sophie, though. For her I had bought an exquisite Art-Deco diamond, emerald and polished jet tiger brooch, the most sophisticated jewel I could find for such an elegant lady. Sophie gasped, her eyes bright, before hugging me, saying "You are so much like your poor, dear father! Thank you, David." For Richard, I had found a vintage Glashutte chronometer watch, which I asked Sophie to give him with love from Lori and me. The ladies had already been plotting and planning the wedding in England, so, knowing we would see them again soon enough, we took our leave, bundled all Lori's purchases into a taxi, and headed back to the hotel.