Nicks Women Plus Real Ones

byEgmont0409©

"They begin by kissing and it rarely advances beyond that UNLESS the heroine signals she wants a little more action and whether she wants more it is up to her initiating it. On the three occasions when the guy had to initiate everything, that was because the heroine really had no clue just how good and desirable this new guy in her life was. He figured the only way of convincing her was to seduce her slowly, carefully and with great dignity, yet always leaving her free to break out of what was going on."

"So you see there are elements of premeditation with my heroes. They have no wish to be brutal, hurtful or uncaring in any way and that is all I can say about this and ends my presentation. Thank you."

The presentation had lasted just under the stipulated hour so when the applause died Rose stepped forward and thanked Nick and presented him with a novel that turned out to be written in French.

Rose took him off stage to the dressing rooms and playfully asked, "Do you require another toilet stop?"

"No thank you," Nick said, not realizing what the tease was about. He opened the package and said, "Oh this is in French but I don't speak French."

"Well I do and fluently and translate well. I suppose I'll have to read it to you."

Nick looked at her chest and then looked up into her amused smoky gray eyes. "Does that mean a date?"

Rose laughed carefully and brushing her hair back caught his attention. She said yes it would be a date if he were used to being read to on dates. "It is 320 pages so that translates into several dates I guess."

Nick said slyly, "Will your boyfriend snort about that?"

"I am between male friends intent on intimacy at the moment."

"Ah I sense subterfuge."

"Mr Bradshaw are you accusing a lady of subterfuge?"

Nick smirked. "Oh no, I could make no such accusation against you providing you are a lady."

Rose pouted and said he was funny and clever. "Come to dinner tomorrow evening and I'll assess whether you are suitable to date. I will examine your table manners and dealing with older people respectfully because I live with my parents and they will be there. May I ask why so you stare at my breasts so regularly?"

"They are of a size and shape that screams for further study and therefore being a conscientious student I feel obliged to make such preliminary assessment."

"How the hell can I rebuff that response?"

This sudden emergence of directness from Rose startled Nick. "Y-you weren't meant to."

"Oh, that leaves me relieved."

Mrs Shultz came into the dressing room.

"Oh I'm so glad you two appear to be hitting it off. Rose needs a man like you Mr Bradshaw. Mr Bradshaw would you please come with me. There are about seventy mothers or female care-givers lined up to get your autograph or for you to sign one of your books they have with them."

"Right. What is the address and time Rose?"

"Apartment 1 in the block where you live. Six-thirty and my parents will expect you to be dressed semi-formally."

"I take it your mother likes flowers and your father appreciates wine?"

"Yes red wine, preferably French."

Nick thanked her and left with Mrs Shultz who said he was not to worry if Rose appeared a little over-eager to be seduced.

"Rose has been working long hours editing a draft novel her late paternal grandmother wrote in French and then proofing the pages as they came from the printer. The first copies came off the press two days ago and you are in possession of one. So for more than six months Rose has had no social life, meaning there has been no man in her life."

"Right I understand. Actually that suggests a plot for a novel."

"That's why I expressed it in that manner Mr Bradshaw; to interest you. Have you noticed the color of Rose's eyes?"

"Yes they are olive green."

"Oh very good. None of your heroines has ever had olive green eyes."

"You've read my books?"

"Oh yes Mr Bradshaw, I began reading you when your fourth book was published and got copies of the earlier three and have purchased each one since then. Like you I like your heroines being intelligent, articulate and hungry for sex. Thank you for not mentioning the phrase 'hungry for sex' to my students today."

Nick returned home very thoughtful. Through newspaper and radio interviews and articles and being interviewed and a guest on panels on TV he knew some people in the city would know he wrote romance novels he'd assume not many Hayton City would buy his books. Wrong. He'd been surprised that so many of those mothers who books he'd signed at the school had said many of their friends loved his books or admired him as a writer. He was nowhere near being at the level of a top selling author and he never expected to attain such acclaim. Usually in the romance genre only beautiful female authors who almost reeked of sex won such accolades. He wondered if more of his books would sell if his published promoted him extensively.

The thought of Rose McLeod then filled his mind. God he'd felt her repressed sexiness. She appeared to have it all... body, looks, manner, personality, intelligence, humor, striking eyes. He could go on an on. Great boobs, great butt and great legs... she seemed almost too perfect. Was she a Vampire? Nick sighed and thought it would be just his luck. He would be about to sink into her and bang, she'd strike and dig fangs into the side of his neck and say, "Oh you are turning rather pale Nick. Are you feeling okay? If you are feeling off-color we best skip sex."

Nick grinned at that boo-boo. How could she talk while sinking her fangs into him? Yeah Nick Bradshaw lives! It must only be her dress ring cutting into his throat or a razor?

Shit.

Nick then wondered if her parents would watch him fuck their daughter tomorrow night. He sighed. This was his trouble; he had a too vivid imagination. It kept him awake at nights. He would wake up and hear a faucet dripping, or think he heard a faucet dripping. Then the drain would gurgle. Then he'd remember he had faucets with special ceramic innards that meant they never dripped. So someone had turned the faucet on in an attempt to drown him by flooding the apartment. Who was it? The cat!

Oh Christ, the fucking cat he'd forgotten to feed it. All that howling was because its dinner hadn't arrived on time or arrived late. He'd get up, kick a toe on the dresser and go to find the cat. So he'd stand there scratching his balls wondering when he found it should he wake it or let it continue sleeping because when it awoke in the morning it would have forgotten it had been fed the previous night. But it was a female cat so couldn't be expected to think logically like that. He'd go back to bed with cold feet and stay awake because his feet were cold. God it was a wonder he ever got round to writing sense or what masqueraded as sense. And why did he think all this nonsense?

Nick would yawn, ending his sleep walking and would sleep soundly.

Nick didn't have a cat.



CHAPTER 2

Nick awoke late next morning so went for his usual two-mile walk at a time when kids were walking to his old school. Girls kept calling out to him, "Hi Nick" and waving and some of their fathers walking with them turned to look rather menacing at Nick.

Closer to the school, five fifteen year olds or thereabouts yelled "Hi Nick" and a youngish woman walking towards him took off her shoulder bag and swung it, catching the side of his head and making him yelp.

"Take that you dirty lecher," she snarled.

Nick turned left at the next street and walked straight into two mothers chatting. They grabbed him and kissed him and thanked him for the wonderfully stimulating address he'd delivered the previous day."

Nick managed to get to the diner without further assault. Betty the day manager whom he'd known for five years and she was old enough to be his mother, came over with coffee and smirked, "I hear you have been giving sex lessons to young school kids."

He threw up his hands in despair, knocking his coffee out of Betty's hand.

"Watch it buster, there's no need to grope me," she grinned. "You prefer your women unused."

Nick almost died in embarrassment.

"Sit down Betty."

She sat and he told her about his school presentation.

"Well that's so typical of rumors, getting it all wrong," she said.

Nick stayed home all day. The streets of the city were not safe for him.

He dug into a cupboard holding odd bottles of what he called Frog and Italian wines and found one that had a fancy sounding name. He hoped it didn't taste like vinegar.

He went across the street to buy flowers and a kid standing beside a man said, "Hi Nick."

The guy said, "Stay away from my daughter sexo."

"I don't know your daughter from a bar of soap."

"Are you implying my daughter is common?"

"Daddy he's the guy mommy told you about. He talked to us about sex."

"Oh the author. My Katie was so sexed up last night I got it all ways and which way. Thanks pal. Here take this big bunch. I'll pay for this bunch also Mrs Norris. "

Rose's mother, who was quite a fading beauty. answered the door and kissed Nick on the mouth when thanking him for the flowers. The father was a bit of a shocker.

Nick handed him the bottle of Ducru Beaucaillou 2001 (St Julien) and Jacques examined the bottle intently and asked, "Where did you get this from?" in a tone that perhaps suggested Nick had stolen it.

"From an admirer sir."

Jacques bellowed in laughter and said, "Then you must have got something very much more precious from that female admirer, yes?"

"Yes," Nick said and pretended to understand the joke.

"I put this beautiful gift in my cellar, yes?"

"Whatever. It's been a couple of years in the laundry cupboard."

"Standing up yes?" his host frowned.

"No sitting down," Nick joked and when Jacques said, "Are you mean laying flat eh, like a woman?"

"Yes," Nick said, wondering how a woman had gotten into a conversation about wine.

Jacques nodded approvingly and disappeared with the bottle he carried reverently, er like a woman stretched out waiting for it.

Rose appeared in front of him, her tits all but bursting out of her tight dress, and she kissed him.

"My father certainly approves of you and my mother thinks you are also a big spender on flowers. She invites you to call her Lisa. You don't know the price and quality of that wine do you?"

"I have no idea."

"It is a special occasion wine, a very special occasion wine for the likes of my father."

Nick explained he had a whole cupboard of red wine people had given him. He mainly drank white wine. "They lie flat like a woman."

"I'm afraid the significance of that remark escapes me."

"Me too. You'll have to ask your father. He brought it up."

"That will be something he thought in French but it got tangled in translation when he expressed it in English."

"Do bottles of wine lie like women?"

"I have no idea. So I suppose there's a story about the flowers."

"Yes I didn't pay for them."

"You gave my mother stolen flowers?"

"No, no. You've got it wrong. Could I have a drink?"

"Yes of course, how rude of me. But we pour only red wine in this house."

"That's fine. I'll tell you what happened to me today and it will take some time so I can look at your breasts while you're drinking and I'm relating my story."

"I can take them out for you if that would please you."

Caught be surprise Nick said, "Will your parents watch us fuck?"

Rose told him not to be so disgusting. 'You claimed yesterday when speaking about your heroes they took it slowly with women?"

"Oh god, I do. Now that raises another story about my thinking process."

Nick was handed the red wine, he looked at Rose's breasts and knew she loved that.

When he finished she said she thought it was a wonderful story and kissed him and pulled one of his hands over her ass. "I love the thought of those students thinking you are the oracle of sex."

Nick felt a little faint but Rose pushed him to the dinning room when her mom, who had orange hair from a hair dye that had gone wrong, called, "Dinner everyone and that includes you Jacques."

Nick the author imagined Jacques emerging from the cellar where he'd acted unconsciously like an artful masturbator, having with closed eyes stroked bottles of wine positioned on their backs like women.

Good god, what a thing to think of one's host and not knowing the guy!

After a very rich main meal and a desert designed to make mountains out of women who consumed more than a morsel of it, everyone helped clear away. Lisa and Jacques then smiled at him and disappeared. Rose sat him on the leather sofa after dimming the lights and explained, "They have practically wall to wall television in their bedroom. They will not disturb us."

Won't be disturbed? So Rose was set to pull her tits out for him?

They sat like Mickey and Minnie in a retirement home for Hollywood legends.

Nick felt his neck thickening although wearing a polo without the buttons fastened. He knew Rose knew he wrote extensively about heroes, empowering them in the art of seduction, so why has he sitting beside her and almost quivering?

He thought her shoulders would be the safest part to place his arm on her so put it there and waited expectedly.

Nothing.

Nick became afraid he might begin to sweat. New women hated men who sweated but after a few shaftings they appeared to adapt. At least he knew that much.

God was that sweat on his brow.

Then a miracle. Rose turned her face towards him and lifted it and whispered, "Kiss me."

Bingo.

They were away, although nothing to write home to mom about.

They kissed and after what seemed two hours but probably was twenty minutes she finally opened her mouth.

Simply delicious.

He worked on swallowing continuously to prevent himself from drooling and then was relief to find she was drooling.

Finally she pulled away, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand and said solemnly, "You want to see my tits don't you?"

Oh bravo; she was prepared to call them tits! He nodded in imbecilic silence, his brain and jaw locked.

Rose reached behind to undo her bra and that action pushed her boobs forward pointedly. Nick worried he was now drooling like a minor waterfall.

Then she stopped and settled back.

Ohmigod she was expecting him to dig them out.

Nick the hero on paper stiffened, er his resolve stiffened, and lifted up her top and miraculously Rose's arms went straight up, she lifted her back off the sofa slightly and the top came away entirely, leaving him staring at just the sweetest apricot and lace bra that appeared to be doing the impossible by holding in so much bloat.

Bloat?

God what was he thinking? He meant some of the most desirable human flesh known to man.

"Don't you like them?" Rose asked anxiously.

Bang.

Nick struck like a cobra. Right into their midst, lifting up apricot and lace to curl his tongue round a very upright nipple.

"Oh god, fuck me," wailed Rose, a hand jammed over her mouth.

Her legs opened like an automated garage door, except the direction was sideways.

Rose wore no panties. She told him later she didn't want him fumbling, expecting him to be nervous with a new woman although he was an acknowledged authority on delivering brilliant seductions. Nick would marvel that women could fill their heads with romantic notions without requiring justification.

He went to plunge in his tongue but Rose held her hand against his forehead. "No I don't indulge in oral until I really like my partner."

Oh no, she didn't like him.

"Just insert your secret weapon."

Huh, who was the author here? That wasn't a bad line Rose. Oh yeah, she hadn't seen it exposed or felt its outline. At present it would be a secret to her. Good girl Rose.

"Ohmigod is all that for me?"

Obviously the lights weren't down all that dimly.

Nick watched bug-eyed as Rose the princess spat into her hand and lubed her opening, still staring at the head of his cock as if she were a guy looking at tits.

Obviously Rose hadn't had a girlfriend's hand pushed into her otherwise she'd know this was no threat to her. Nick pushed in slowly, their foreheads together as they both watched one of the most inspiring events in the universe, um at least on a personal basis.

"Ohmigod." Rose marveled as it continued to slip in. She must have previously only encountered short guys.

Then Nick was fully docked. "How was that?" he asked proudly.

"Awesome. Fucking awesome."

Was that word women appeared to hate from the lips of his Rose?

She was taking a risk, not asking him to wear a condom. He preferred it without although he packed some. It was up to the women to express her preference just as it was her responsibility to be protected if the guy went in undressed. Fuck the hard-nosed fat women with glasses and a socialist upbringing who thundered on about 'collective responsibility'. Collective responsibility applied, he'd agree with that, but not about whether the woman wanted a guy to wear a rubber or whether she wanted to protect herself against pregnancy. People were individuals and so were their lifestyles, mostly, so let's not mess up the scheme of things with dogma aimed as the dilution of personal responsibility. Down with dictators!

"Aren't you going to start?" Rose asked.

Embarrassed Nick began like a train on a slippery track, knowing the best way was to just begin rolling and inching forward with just a twitch to increase momentum until the wheels could be seen to move ever-so slowing to increase the first revolution; the second revolution of the wheels took fractionally less time to accomplish and so on.

Jesus, what was that?

As the pain raced beyond his chest he looked down to find Rose swinging off his right nipple by her teeth.

Fuck the slow freight train theory. He slammed into her, rattling her bones, er theoretically.

That freed his nipple. Her head went back, her mouth open cavernously and she groaned from miles deep within... "Ohmigod, how heavenly."

Relieved he was doing something right, meeting expectations, Nick grinned and Rose finishing her primeval gasp caught the look and said almost in surprise, "God you are so handsome."

Nick felt his dick thickened and probably she did as well.

Perhaps inspired by that finding or more likely taken over by her sensitivity centers, Rose began pushing in to him as Nick came forward and eventually he was grateful to see beads of sweat on her. Oh lo this was beyond his expectation; Rose sweated, er perspired!

Rose fingers dug into his back and her pussy was being used as if attempting to squeeze his dick to half its thickness as she, even if unaware of it, attempted to milk his semen. Nick knew what was expected of him and launched himself to become a runaway train, roaring down slopes, across bridged ravines and..."

Christ he hoped the parents had their TV up loud or they might think he was hurting their daughter with her screaming that loudly. Rose bucked and hit out at him, her face contorted and her body convulsed repeatedly and then tiredly she squeezed his balls and said, "Come on" and Nick groaned and slammed a load into her and rested, still jerking lesser flows into her.

Nick like to think about the exchange of juices but didn't talk about it anymore after finding that talk tended to make many women puke. They liked to think they didn't sweat, they didn't bite shoulders and then didn't gush or whatever in more minor ways comprised their climatic ending.

"You can really fuck."

What? Who said that?

Rose slipped out from under him, made easier because Nick was now kneeling on the floor.

Rose had said that? He managed, "You were great, and I mean that. You have a really lively pussy."

She smiled and kissed him, wiping sweat off her face.

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