Second Meeting

He was nervous as he approached the front door; his heart was thumping in his chest. He'd never done anything like this, and it was confusing him. They'd met two years ago, at a mutual friend's party in France, and there had been a definite sexual tension. He'd been excited about it at the time, but later felt guilty about it. He had returned to England and his girlfriend, but when he received an email from this mysterious American beauty, he'd had to admit to himself that he was elated. They'd kept in touch, and now, two years later, with the blessing of his girlfriend, now fiancé, they were going to meet again. He reached the door. A confident man, he was shocked to see his hands shaking. He forced himself to calm down as he knocked on the door.

She stood in the doorway, a few inches shorter than he was, and he gasped. The bright, disco lights of the party had done nothing to improve her looks, as he had imagined; she was even more stunning in the gentle, late-summer sun of New England. Reaching out to her, he pulled he into his grasp. Her heart was beating fast too, he noticed, and he smelt the perfume he remembered from that night. She pulled back, still in his arms, looked up at him and smiled.

"It's wonderful to see you again."

"I can't believe I'm really here. You look… you are perfect."

She smiled again, and started walking to the kitchen. The thing that had started them talking, he remembered, was their mutual love of food. Brushing past him, he felt a surge of electricity, and he watched her gently swaying waist below a modest, yet short, floral summer dress. Just being here was turning him on, and the perfection of the weather and her body seemed to make it worse.

"I didn't cook anything too special," she said, looking over her shoulder to where he stood trying to calm down, again "I thought we could just have something simple on the veranda. Picking up a tray, she walked out of the kitchen, again brushing past him, and out to the deck. He followed, and sat beside her on the swing bench. She handed him a glass of champagne and a plate of smoked salmon and salad.

He raised his glass.

"Cheers," he said, overcome by modesty.

"Making memories," she replied softly, smiling coquettishly over her glass.

Sitting there, with the sun setting over the Atlantic, her bare thigh brushing against the suit he had been wearing for the conference in Boston, he knew there would be plenty of memories from this trip.

***********

Stepping out of the shower, he dried quickly and wrapped the towel around himself. They had spent a wonderful evening, talking, relaxing, drinking champagne, and he was about to go to bed, sure that tomorrow would be the most erotic day of his life. He was just reflecting that he couldn't be any aroused when he opened his bedroom door.

Lying in his bed, smiling that sweet yet knowing smile, her hair wet from the shower and wearing a silky, sheer negligee, she was all of his dreams come true. He gasped, and almost ran towards her. She stood up in front of him, and he lifted her chin until she gazed up at him. He kissed her, gently at first, because he knew he should maintain this perfect, romantic moment, and then more passionately.

Her arms were around his neck, surrendering herself to him. His hand were around her waist, and he moved them lower, caressing, squeezing, exploring her rear as he pulled her closer to him. As they continued to kiss he became more aroused, and pulled her negligee up with one hand, and beginning to run his other hand up the back of her thigh. Seeing her lying there had removed all guilt towards his fiancé from his mind, and brought his confidence back. For the first time, they stopped kissing. He moved lower, his lips and tongue touching her cheek, her ear, her neck, and her chest. He ran his tongue along the top of her negligee, reaching with one hand to pull a strap from her shoulder.

Now he was able to push the negligee aside, and he did so, exposing her breast. He ran a hand underneath it, causing her to gasp involuntarily. The sexual tension, built up over two years and one wonderful evening was causing every touch to feel unbelievably erotic. He began to touch her breast with his mouth, kissing, licking the entire breast as he felt her nipple harden.

Soon he was gently sucking and nibbling on her nipple as her removed the other strap, and she was naked before him. The combination of his attentions and the sudden cold air gave her goose-bumps all over her body. He began to explore her other breast, as she reached down with one hand and removed his towel. She pulled him towards her, and they were on his bed. He continued, running a hand across her flat stomach and around her hip. Placing his fingers on the inside of her knee, he began to move his hand upwards. He continued to run his tongue over her breasts, and she writhed beneath him, teased, waiting.

She did not wait long. As his hand moved slowly, slowly up her thigh, he began to kiss her stomach, moving his mouth down as slowly as his hand rose. His hand reached it goal, and began to gently touch her, slowly, teasingly. She was so aroused that she shuddered, almost convulsed in ecstasy with every touch. His fingers began to circle her clitoris, and almost immediately, shouting his name, she reached her orgasm. His hand began to brush her thigh and he kissed her hip, she lay, gasping.

As soon as her breathing slowed somewhat and she was starting to recover, he moved his mouth to her inner thigh. She whispered his name, arched her back and ran her fingers through his dark curly hair. He licked her inner thigh, removing her juices which were flowing down her legs, and began to lick, slowly and gently, the inside of her lips. He explored her, slowly at first, becoming quicker and more focused upon her clit as her breathing became ragged and she raised her hips, pushing herself into him. As she came for a second time, she screamed with joy. He now kissed her stomach again, her breast, her neck and she put her arm around him and pulled him onto her lips, as her other hand reached his penis. His arousal, unsatisfied for so long, was immense. She pushed him off her, and onto his back, and straddled him. His eyes widened and it was his turn to gasp as he was inside her for the first time.

She moved sensuously above him. This was the first time he had been able to look at her properly since he had removed her clothes, and he was struck again by how beautiful she was. She ran her hands over his chest and smiled down at him. Her movements became more rapid and rhythmic as their combined lust took over. As he began to feel his own orgasm brewing inside him, he pulled her off him. She looked surprised. As he struggled to regain his breath, he gasped.

"I want to be on top. I want to take you."

She smiled now, relieved, and lay back, pulling him towards her, welcoming him. This was the final moment of passion. His hips began to buck, he moved faster and faster as they gasped, together. As his bucking stopped, and he came deep inside her, he watched and felt her come with him.

It had been a perfect night, of passion and romance. He had two more days, and he foresaw passion, and nothing else.

To be continued?