Tender Touches

The first part of Tom's day was spent in a rush. He met with several key people in the company, showcased the newest hardware that would aid in establishing better amplified hearing equipment for those that dealt with hearing loss. Over the morning hours he answered questions, listened to proposals, played with numbers and glanced repeatedly at the clock on the wall, willing it to reach twelve. When it did, he could have sworn he whooped with glee, but he decided he hadn't since no one was staring at him.

He stepped out into the sunlight that blanketed the grounds and saw Constance's vehicle. She was sitting inside, the motor running, which meant she had the A/C on. He looked forward to sliding in beside her and not only breathing in her intoxicating scent but relaxing in the coolness of the car itself. The air conditioning in the building, where his meetings were taking place, had broken earlier in the week and the repairmen were still working on the problem.

Tom was halfway to Constance when she looked up at him. He froze and stared at her. His heart seemed lodged in his chest and his pulse suddenly began to race in his veins. He was in trouble; he knew it. Now what was he going to do about it? The woman behind the wheel of the car, who was pulling out of her parking spot and driving over to him had captured his heart and he wasn't sure how to handle himself. She pulled up and waited for him to get in, which Tom did almost in a mindless state. "Everything alright?"she asked.

Tom shook his head, somewhat dumbfounded by the realization that had slammed into him. He buckled up and soon was forced to focus on reliving his day for Constance as she asked him questions about the meeting. They reached a local Italian restaurant and Tom hurried out of the car to assist Constance from her side. She hooked her arm through his and together they made their way into the cool interior of the establishment. Tom helped her to her seat, scooting it in as she sat. His hands brushed against her shoulders and he thought he'd heard her moan. "Nah, wishful thinking," he told himself as he took his seat across from her.

An attendant came by, offered them both a glass of wine, which both accepted. He told them the specials for the day as well as their choices for soups. In time they were left alone, each sipping at their drinks and looking across the table at the other.

Constance felt the tension in the air; it was much different than when she helped him that morning with his tie, or when she'd taken a moment to breathe in the scent of the cologne he'd splashed on. This time it seemed that Tom had come to realize that she was a living and breathing woman who was very much attracted to him. She was too. That morning as she had run her errands, stopping at various markets to purchase things she needed for the house and ordering things she needed for the farm itself, she'd thought of Tom. She imagined him in her home, in her bed, even in the straw that was freshly tossed in one of the horse stalls in the barn. Looking at him now, she simply wanted to lean over and taste the wine on his lips. She almost did when she caught the movement of the attendant returning to take their orders.

The meal that followed was eaten slowly, the two devouring each other with their eyes more so than they did the food with their teeth and tongues. Constance had taken the initiative, reached out and touched Tom's hand. He turned his palm over, a questioning look in his eyes, he squeezed her fingers and watched her smile. Immediately he felt something new and his lips rose in a smirk as the knowing touch of a woman's foot slipped up and down the inside of his pant leg. Constance grinned wide over the lip of her wine glass. Her foot continued to slide along the firm leg of Tom. The soft stocking covered toes ran across the coarse hairs of his calf muscle several times before she eased it out. "When are the meetings over?" she asked, breaking the sexual tension that was consuming their surroundings.

Tom studied the woman across from him and licked his lips. "Constance... I could end them now, if..." He didn't finish talking as he felt her foot slide up further, this time on the outside of his pant leg. He watched her shift in her seat and then felt her toes brush against his crotch. He fidgeted and felt his face grow warm. "You do remember what I said this morning, don't you?" he asked. His left hand slipped under the table to take a hold of her foot. He rubbed her toes, but kept them from the object of their desire.

"I remember," she whispered, slipping her foot free of his unsure grip. She slipped her shoe back on and winked. "Finish your meal and your meetings. There's no rush. If you don't want to; I'm not going to..."

"Oh... I want to," Tom suddenly piped up, then bit down on the roll he'd been holding in his other hand, the right now empty of her foot. "I just don't know... I mean, I've dated. I've kissed, fondled and petted, but never..."

Constance sensed Tom's uneasiness and reached over to touch his cheek. "Don't worry about it. If it's meant to happen it will. Let's finish our meal and get you back to work. Don't think anymore of it." She grinned, knowing it would be all either of them thought about the rest of the day. Tom insisted on paying for dinner and Constance allowed it. She even handed him the keys to the car and let him drive back, though she joked with him about running into passerbys and parked cars. By the time they reached the office building where Tom would spend the rest of his day, the sexual tension was lessened, but the evening was still very much on both of their minds.

The afternoon seemed to drag on. Tom spent most of the time asking people to repeat something he'd missed or staring at the minute hand on the clock. When four o'clock swung around he was tense and somewhat short with his peers. Several times he found himself apologizing for not paying attention and heartily took the jokes that went his way. At the end of the day, Tom stepped back outside and searched for the face that had plagued him all day. He smiled and lifted his hand in a wave, then waited as she drove up to pick him up at the curb. Once in the car, he was surprised to see her slide over and invade his personal bubble. He blinked away the shock as her face hovered above his and she bent her head down to capture his lips with hers.

Tom sat there, stunned and unsure what to do. His lips parted as Constance's tongue snaked out to travel slowly across their seam. His tongue pushed against hers and one of his hands moved to brush the curls that rested on her shoulder. Just as quickly as the kiss had begun, it stopped. Constance pulled away, a soft smile rested on her lips. She reclaimed her seat behind the wheel, buckled up and watched out of the corner of her eye as Tom did the same. Back on the road, one of her hands remained on the wheel, the other reached out and found Tom's. They drove the whole way back to her farm in silence. Tom's fingers rubbed the top of Constance's hand and she felt a tingling rolling through her. A spark of heat seemed to flutter from his caress and erupt deep inside both of them.

Neither spoke once they reached the garage. Constance unbuckled and reached over to caress Tom's cheek. He turned his head and kissed her palm. She licked her lips and sighed, then pulled away and moved to get out of the car. They walked together into the house. The door closed quietly behind them and Constance turned to stare into Tom's nervous eyes.

She stepped forward, thankful she'd worn the one inch pumps so she was eye level with her houseguest. "I'll go slow," she whispered and then pressed her body against his. Again her tongue was traveling across Tom's lips. Her hands rested softly on his chest, her fingers running slowly up and down the inside of his sports coat.

Tom's lips parted and his tongue fondled awkwardly with hers, but soon she was encouraging him with whimpers and sighs. He learned how deep to kiss her, where to sweep his tongue to make her shiver against him. Constance continued to lavish him with attention. She pulled back from the kiss, only to capture his lower lip with her teeth. She chewed gently while her hands pushed his jacket off his shoulders. Tom reached out, grabbed her hips and dragged her against him. He ground his crotch against her and muttered something inaudible. One of his hands left her hip to move up and paw at her right breast. He squeezed the globe and heard her whimper. The sound wasn't one of pleasure and Tom felt his body tense.

"Gentle," she told him, stepping away and covering his hand with hers. She held his hand against her breast, the pressure teasing and light. "They're attached Tom, so caress them."

He blushed, but nodded his head in understanding. Constance released his hand and began to loosen his tie. She licked her lips as Tom's hand gently massaged her breast through the material of her blouse. His thumb casually and unknowingly grazed her nipple. Constance hissed and closed her eyes. Tom stopped. "I'm sorry, did that hurt?" he asked.

"Mmm... no. You can do it again, harder this time," she told him and pushed her breast into his palm. She felt his fingers move across her nipple. The pearl drop center beaded up under Tom's tender assault and she whispered, "Harder Tom, please."

Tom stared down at the covered globe and pinched the peak that pointed out at him. He watched Constance's face and twisted the jewel to the left then the right. "Ohh Tommy," she whimpered and he grinned, then cupped her other breast. He teased the twin nipple and bent down to kiss Constance's parted and panting lips. She pushed her tongue against his mouth and then stepped free of his sinful fingers. "Come upstairs," she said. She held his hand and brought it up to her lips. She kissed his fingers then led him through her home, up the steps and then down the hall to her bedroom.

Her fingers hovered on the knob for a few seconds before she turned it and opened. Constance stepped in. Tom followed. The door closed behind them. Tom stared at her, unsure as to what to do next. Constance slipped off her shoes and reached for the hem of her blouse. She started to pull it off and then stopped. "You do it," she said suddenly, dropping her hands to her side and staring back at Tom.

He blinked his surprise and stepped forward, flexing his fingers as if he were about to handle a fine piece of glass he was fearful of breaking. His fingers brushed against Constance's waist as he began to work the fabric up higher. Soon he was pulling it over her head and was gazing at the white bra she wore. He cupped the right globe and teased it again, this time the hard peak was easier to see and the ridges of her areola were more defined under the fabric.

"Mmm..." Constance moaned. She reached between her breasts and released the front snap. Tom's hand kept the fabric from parting. She opened her eyes and took both his hands, placed them at the top of her breasts and waited for him to take over. Tom read her desires and pushed the thin fabric away. It fell quietly to the floor. Both her tits swayed gently, free from the constraining material. He groaned and Constance grinned. His hands moved to cup both orbs. His thumbs rubbed across the darkening circles.

"Beautiful," he whispered. Tom had seen breasts before, even fondled a few during his late teens and early twenties, but these were different. The woman before him was full of life and she knew what she wanted. Her breasts were large, covered in a few freckles at the top. They swayed but didn't sag. He'd seen photos of older women and younger; Constance body, what he'd been allowed to see so far was mature in away that was quite pleasing and arousing.

"Tom."

The sound of his name on her lips made Tom glance up. His eyes held hers and he blinked back the emotions that were rolling inside him. "Kiss one," Constance told him. "Lick around the edge, then kiss the tip. Then... I want you to suck it into your mouth."

Another sound filled the room, one that Tom would later realize was a deep grunt of lust. He lifted her right breast and lowered his head. Constance's hand moved to the back of his head and she toyed with the brown strands. She didn't push him down, but coaxed him with soft whimpers and moans. Soon he was doing as she'd instructed. His tongue slowly traced the different hues of her tit. He felt the ridges and explored every small dip and curve. He lapped at her nipple, listened to her gasp and sigh. "Suck," she whispered and he opened his mouth to pull the hard diamond into a firm suckle. "Ooh Tommy," Constance gasped, her fingers curled into his hair and she pushed him deeper into her breast.

Tom smiled inwardly, suckled harder and felt Constance's other hand grip his arm as if to steady herself. He left her nipple, heard her mutter "damn" and then latched onto her other one, which he treated to the same sweet torture he had the other. Constance muttered and whimpered, begged him to continue and so he did. Back and forth he went, lavishing first one bead then the other. Still it wasn't enough. "Both," she gasped. Tom looked up and watched her squeeze her breasts together. He growled low, surprised by his own hungry and feral need. He replaced her hands, pushed the two nipples together and then returned to exploring, tasting and devouring them with his tongue and sucking motions. "Teeth, Tommy. Bite them. . .please. You won't hurt me. . .Please Tommm."

His brow furrowed as he nipped at her skin. "Harder," she told him. Tom opened his mouth and chewed on first her right nipple and then he moved to her left. Once more he moved between the two beads, until Constance was pulling him away. "Damn Tom, you may not have done this before, but ... damn," she hissed.

He grinned and laughed softly, the sound barely hid his own nervousness. Constance glanced at his crotch, saw the thick bulge and reached out. Boldly she ran her palm over the engorged, but hidden member. Her brows rose as she flicked the button of his slacks and the thin plastic disk slipped free of its home. Tom stared down at her hands, noted again their strength as she eased the zipper down and reached inside to free the straining muscle. He groaned when her fingers teased the head, softly squeezing and massaging the top, before dragging the skin down and back up again. She stroked him and he stood there in the room as if he were merely an object to be toyed and fondled with.

Constance teased Tom for a minute perhaps two, he wasn't sure, nor did he really care. He was in Heaven, back in the dream he had the night before, yet he knew this wasn't a dream. He watched his cock slide easily within her grip and then he felt his whole body spasm as she slid to the floor and rested on her knees. "Connie," he said, his fingers moving to touch her hair. She looked up at him and winked mischievously.

"Step out of your shoes," she told him, resting her hands on her thighs. Tom haphazardly discarded his shoes, socks and then his trousers. Constance stopped him as he was about to pull his boxers off, even with his cock fully erect and pointing proudly from the front opening. "I'll do it," she said and reached out to slide his boxers down. His shaft caught, but soon it was free, but only free from the clothing that had house it. It was not free from Constance's warm grip.

His lids fluttered closed, then open as Constance stroked his dick with differing maneuvers. Sometimes she was light and airy, other times hard and strong. She would stroke his member with long, lazy draws of her hand moving up and then she'd suddenly change and rapidly pump his sex. Tom thought he was going to explode in her hand when she stopped and said his name. "Yes?" he managed to answer back.

"How close are you?"

Tom swallowed and tried to comprehend the question. "Umm. . .I think I'm okay," he said and then felt a warm blanket of moist air coating his testicles. His eyes shot open and he looked down in fascination as Constance sucked and teased his sack with her lips and tongue. "Ohh fuck," he gasped and found his fingers had curled into her thick brown hair. "Connie," he muttered and gently pushed her face deeper into his crotch.

Connie slipped one ball out of her mouth, but kept the other nestled against her cheek. She swiped her tongue back and forth across it, pushed it against the roof of her mouth and then "swallowed" it so it smacked the back of her throat. She felt Tom's fingers grow tighter in her hair, so she released the sphere she'd been playing with and took its twin, rewarding it with another experienced series of licks and strokes. Tom grunted, his hips moved instinctively. Connie dropped his ball, licked under the sack and then trailed the tip of her tongue along the front of his shaft. She looked up, grinned wide when she saw her lover's eyes were closed and the look on his face spoke of genuine awe. Her hand wrapped around his dick and she whispered his name.

Tom barely opened his eyes, but looked down and watched her lips roll over the head of his cock then up again. "Ooh fuck," he muttered and heard her giggle. The sound though barely registered as the vibrations from it skated across his skin. He shivered and felt himself grow harder, which amazed his already aroused state of mind. His cock hurt, but the pain was pleasing and he found himself wanting to prolong it. "Connie... if you keep doing that," he warned.

She looked up at him. Her mouth full of his cock. Her brown eyes full of hunger. She bobbed her head down, continuing to hold his gaze. Saliva eased from the corner of her lips, coating his dick, and she sucked it up. Tom felt streams of pre cum flowing easily from the tip of his shaft and he knew without a doubt that Constance was drinking it up. Everything in her face, including the lusty look in her eyes told him she was enjoying it. This realization made Tom want to plunder her, but he knew Constance was in control and he couldn't just forcefully fuck her face. He didn't want to either, not really, he was enjoying this lesson far more than any dream he could have conjured up.

Constance plunged the full length of Tom into her mouth, angling her jaw so the head of his penis slipped easily down her throat. She closed her eyes and concentrated on taking all of him. The natural reflexes to gag made her pause. She took a deep breath through her nose, then continued on until her lips were to the base and her nose was nestled in the curls of his sex. Her hands, now empty, began to work other parts of her lover's flesh. One hand lifted, caressed, and massaged his testicles. She rolled the hard marbles between her fingers, while the other hand's fingernails grazed up and down the inner muscle of his left leg.

All the sensations rolling through Tom were more than any he'd ever experienced in the past. His body responded by instinct. His hips pumped forward. His hands curled into fists. His mind was gone. There was no thought. No reason. No understanding of what was happening. He was simply there for the ride and Constance controlled every turn with her fingers, tongue, teeth, and succulent motions. When his seed exploded, Tom for a brief moment feared her disgust, but that thought was squelched when she continued to hold him in her mouth, moan and swallow the second and then the third volley of his release.

A sound of breath being released brought Tom back to reality. It was the sound of his own breath. He hadn't even been aware he'd been holding it until his lungs forced him to expel and drag in a fresh supply of air. His lips shook. He gazed down at Constance, a smile beamed back at him. He shook his head, amazed by what had just transpired. His fingers brushed the hair from her forehead and he watched her stand up. She licked her lips and waited for him to speak, something he wasn't sure he could do. She must have sensed it, for she reached out and cupped his face and then rested her head on his chest, still covered by the shirt he wore. Tom knew what she'd done; he knew she'd swallowed his seed and yet he still wanted to kiss her. He tilted her head and stared into her eyes, then lowered his mouth to hers. At first he balked at the thought of what he was doing, but the desire, the want of the connection he sought with her was stronger than any distaste he may encounter.