Tom and Sandy Ch. 03

The door to his bedroom was closed. He'd planned this. He wanted the vision of the room where she'd spent this evening, and hopefully many more, to appear all at once.

Turning to face her at the door, he pulled her close to him.

"Sandy, I will never be able to tell you what I'm feeling right now. I can honestly say, though, that right now, in this moment, I would not trade places with any man on earth."

"Tom…" her breath was coming in pants.

He interrupted her. "I want you to know that what we do in this bedroom defines us only until we leave it. It changes nothing in the outside world. But in this room, we are lovers eternally bonded to each other, and I would have it no other way. What transpires tonight will remain with us always."

"Tom…"

He had something to say, though, so he didn't let her finish. "I want you to release yourself to the pleasure that will consume you, body and soul. We will always be as one in this room. In here, you need never feel shame of any kind."

"Tom…"

He had more to say, but she sounded impatient.

"Yes?"

"I need you to fuck me right now."

He opened the door to his bedroom. The wooden floors gleamed in the light of the four large candles he'd placed in it. The windows were open; a fresh outdoor breeze blew through. It smelled of rain. The curtains were mostly drawn so they'd have privacy from any nosy neighbors, but at their edges the wind was able to find its way through. The thunderstorm rumbled in the distance.

His king-sized bed was freshly made from the afternoon he'd spent preparing the house; underneath the duvet were freshly washed sheets. The low light from the flickering candles wrought mysterious images across the walls. The rising winds blowing through the large window across the room from the door caused the lighting to dance seductively.

He suddenly reached down and scooped her up into his arms.

"Sandra Wright, as I carry you across this threshold, I bid you to accept me as your lover and eternal partner in pleasure. I promise to have you and to attend to your every need, as long as we both agree to this pact. Do you accept my proposal?"

"I do."

Without another word, Tom carried her to the bed and gently laid her across it. She was light; a weight that he easily and gladly hefted. Her eyes were glued to his throughout the symbolic crossing of a new threshold. He could tell that she understood what his symbolism meant. She was not married to him, but bonded to him just as tightly as her husband, now.

Her knees were bent across the side of the bed and her feet dangled off. His bed sat high on risers, so her feet did not touch the floor. He arose from where he had gently laid her on the mattress, and then slowly sank to his knees on the floor.

He gently took her left foot in his hands and slipped the ankle strap off. After pulling the shoe off and sitting it on the floor under the night stand, he repeated the process with the other foot. Her feet were compelling; he'd always admired that they were toned, yet the skin on her calves and ankles was soft and supple despite the obviously taut muscles underneath. He would pay more attention to her feet on another night; now he had other concerns.

Rising to his feet, he looked down upon her. She was breathing heavily, and flushed with arousal. Her dress had risen up to mid-thigh, and he nearly gasped when he saw that she had worn stockings instead of pantyhose. He could see the lacy elastic upper rings that clung to her thighs, and the thought of her legs wrapped around his waist while wearing them brought him to nearly complete erection.

He bent at the waist across the mattress so that their torsos were together. He could feel her breasts pressing upon him through the fabric of her dress and his shirt. Finally, after years of pining, he was able to look directly into her eyes in the way he'd always wanted: from a distance of less than an inch. She made no move to look away. They paused for a long moment. Her eyes were clear, her face tense with anticipation. He was in control.

This was what he'd dreamt of.

He kissed her. Pressing his lips to hers, he found them to be soft and pliant. She yielded; his tongue slipped into her mouth. She reciprocated with fervor. To his mind, she tasted like a woman that had been trapped for years in a marriage that held no intrigue to her. He imagined that her tongue tasted of unfulfilled passion on the brink of satisfaction. Their tongues entwined passionately. He loved the taste of his boss.

Her tongue danced with his in a tango that had been years in anticipation. Closing his eyes, he savored the moment. He was about to make love to the woman of his dreams.

"Sandy, I want you to raise your arms above your head."

His eyes were less than an inch away from his. Her blue eyes reflected deep longing; passion withheld against her will. She needed this as much as he did. She would do whatever he wanted. Her lips trembled as she murmured her consent.

"Yes, sir," she whispered.

Her arms slid across the duvet cover slowly. Her eyes never left his. Soon, her fingers interlocked, her arms stretched comfortably above her head.

"Don't move until I tell you to."

She nodded, almost imperceptibly. He knew that this woman who had been married for over two decades would know what was coming. He continued to look deep into her eyes for another few seconds. She gazed back at him, with arousal in her visage. More than that, there seemed to be something more than sexual excitement there.

He slid down her body, nibbling on every section of skin that presented itself. Her neck was exposed; he spent a few seconds there. Her skin was soft, pliable. It hearkened back to an animalistic instinct; that this woman would let him suck on her neck while lying so submissively indicated that she trusted him completely.

He decided against putting a hickey on her neck. Although he wanted desperately to mark her as his, he knew that this would cause problems for her upon the inevitable inspection her husband would subject her to. He thought to himself, "Soon…"

The straps on her dress had fallen slack when she'd raised her arms. The tops of her breasts were exposed and heaving. She was panting with anticipation. He planted a kiss on the top of her left breast.

Leaving a trail of saliva across the top of her white dress, he made his way down to her thighs. He started to raise the hem of her dress so that he could taste her womanhood. This was a moment they'd never forget.

Suddenly, a primal instinct arose in him. He stopped before diving into the treasure that was so very close to him. There was something he needed to do, first.

"Sandy, stand up."

A confused look crossed her face. She hesitated, then let her hands fall to her sides. She scooted off the bed, and slowly, stood up.

Dismay registered across her face. She was thinking that he had changed his mind. Her arousal would go unfulfilled this evening, she thought.

"Tom… I…"

He interrupted, "Sandy… before we do this… I'd like you to be naked."

The confusion in her eyes instantly changed to lust. She understood. He wanted her as she was born; innocent, trusting, and exposed. Before he could begin with this, the most important coupling either of them would ever undertake, he wanted to see her as she was when she was born. He needed to see her as she was when she was a virgin. This was not her wedding night; regardless, tonight was a night to consummate a new union.

Before he could devote himself to her pleasure, he needed her to be completely naked.

She looked again into his eyes, and after a few seconds, nodded. She turned around and leaned at the hips onto his bed.

"I present myself to you, sir."

"Jesus… Why didn't I do this years ago?" Tom thought to himself.

He found the zipper toward the top of her back. Slowly, he pulled it down. Every agonizing second brought more of her back into view. Her skin was so pale, so soft. It was pristine, virginal.

Even before the zipper reached her hips, he could tell that she hadn't worn a bra; she hadn't needed one. The dress was equipped with padded supports for her breasts. The lifts had given her the cleavage that he'd been eyeing all night. Pulling the sides of the dress from her body, he slipped it down to her waist.

He immediately noticed that her breasts hadn't needed much support. The cleavage was gone, but her breasts hung proudly from her chest while she leaned over his bed. He'd always admired the rack she presented in a t-shirt, but he always thought that it was some sort of form-fitting bra and nothing natural. He could see now that he was wrong about that.

"Her husband is such a fool…"

She remained bent over his mattress at the waist, with him behind her, while he slid the parted dress down to her hips. He reached around her and caressed her belly. She shivered at his touch. Her honey colored hair fell around her shoulders, some strands resting on her shoulders, while others hung in front.

"Raise your arms again, I need to pull this off of you."

She stood up and did as he had instructed. Tom couldn't resist running his hands up her belly and cupping her breasts. This was one of the most erotic poses any man could imagine about a woman; standing with arms raised, tits exposed.

Lifting from the waistline, he pulled her dress off of her. Throwing it onto the hardwood floor, he took her in. She wore no panties! Earrings and the stockings was all she had on. And of course, her wedding ring.

Beauty incarnate.

Her body was perfect. Her skin was alabaster; having never been a fan of the beach, nor of tanning salons, she'd managed to keep most of the damage that the sun would afflict at bay. Her back was white, but her skin was smooth and unblemished. Not even a freckle presented itself. He could spend many an evening giving that back a massage, and if his previous experience with women was any indication, he expected that he would. For the first time, he was glad for that. Of course, she'd need to pay him back…

Her waist contracted down nicely, only to swell again at her hips. And…

"Oh my God… that ass…."

For the first time, Tom was seeing it. He had somehow expected that it would be supported by some kind of girdle, or a nicely fitting undergarment, or hell, surgically enhanced… something! But no…

It was completely natural. There was not a mark on it. Not a birthmark, not a mole, not the bruises that Tom would have expected to be present from the pounding her husband should have been giving it every night. Ivory hued, and curved in just the right places. Starting from her narrow waist, her outline swelled in perfect proportion, to present the perimeter of a knee-buckling profile, only to contract again at her thighs. Looking her over from ankle to neck, her legs swelled at just the right point so that her perfect posterior seemed completely normal, but when viewed on its own, it seemed celestial.

It was plump without seeming fat. She was voluptuous in just the right spots, but athletic in all the rest. There was nothing else in the world that Tom had rather be looking at right now.

This mother of two, this woman in her mid-forties was in possession of possibly the nicest ass that ever walked the earth. And it was completely natural. His erection, threatening to fade after he'd spent time undressing her, sprung back to life.

He told her, "Don't turn around yet."

He stepped back, considering. He was extremely aroused, and the thought of the stockings sliding against his hips while he was making love to her didn't reduce that fact. But tonight, he needed more of a commitment.

"I'm going to take your stockings off."

Sandy turned her head over her shoulder. "I wore them for you." He could hear a bit of disappointment in her voice.
"Yes, my dear, and I appreciate it. They are sexy, as attractive as I could ever have hoped. I will expect you to wear them again in the future. I can't wait to feel them rubbing against my skin. But tonight… well, tonight I have something else in mind."

She turned her head back around, so that she was looking straight ahead again, away from him. She did not attempt to move her hands from the bedspread.

"…May I ask what that is?"

He could sense a bit of trepidation in her voice. He knew that she had no idea what he would demand, and every action of his was going to be played into a thousand possibilities.

"Yes, my dear. Tonight, we will consummate this agreement that we've forged. We've been friends since the first day we met each other. But tonight, before dawn, we will know so much more about each other than we've ever known before. For that occasion, I want us to both be as naked as the day we were born. Because tonight, we will both be reborn into a new union."

She shuddered, but did not respond.

After a few seconds, he hooked his fingers into the tops of the bands of her stockings. Slowly, agonizingly, he pulled them down from her legs. Oh, God, those were nice legs. Athletic and toned, he found himself wishing that they'd been wrapped around him, instead of her husband John, for the last twenty years.

Pulling the stocking from one foot, then the other, he cast each aside. All that remained were a couple of baubles.

He stood up and reached up to her ears. She tensed when he touched her, then relaxed when she realized what he was doing. If anything, she seemed to climb even higher.

"Even those, huh?" She didn't turn her head to ask him the question.

"As the day you were born, Sandra."

Carefully removing her earrings, he sat them on the night stand. He took her by the shoulders and pulled her up, then turned her around to face him. Peering into her face, he could sense deep arousal, deeper than any he'd been privileged to witness in all his life. He kissed her again.

Sliding his hands down her back, he cupped that beautiful ass of hers. Gently massaging it, his dick seemed to swell to proportions heretofore unknown. Opening his eyes just a bit, he saw that hers were closed. Her chest was rising and falling quickly. She was enveloped in ecstasy.

Breaking the kiss, they opened their eyes together and gazed tenderly at each other. She smiled softly at him. Despite all the uncertainty that surrounded the situation and that no doubt swirled in her mind, they both knew that this was where they both wanted to be. This was… right.

He whispered to her. "One more thing."

She looked up at him for a few seconds, waiting for him to speak again. Then, her eyes opened a bit further, registering her understanding. This was no small requirement for her. It signified that she was stepping out into open air, and was depending upon him to catch her.

She slowly raised her left hand and placed it on his chest. Even without breaking the sensual eye contact they were sharing, he felt her spread her trembling fingers.

Tom gently removed her wedding ring.

"I know this is still a precious symbol to you, Sandy. I will not desecrate it."

He turned, and carefully placed it on the dresser. The stones faced away from the bed.

Turning back to her, he embraced her firmly, his hands clasped behind her back. She looked up at him, with more emotion than before.

Burying her face into his chest, he could feel tears smearing against his skin. He hugged her tight against him. Her body was voluptuous in his embrace. Her eyes were moist as she whispered to him, "That means more to me than you can know. I… well… everything you do makes me more devoted to you."

He whispered into her ear, "I know what you mean. I respect all that you've accomplished, as an engineer, and as a woman. I will never ask you to forget that. But tonight, we belong to each other, and no one else."

She blinked back a tear, and nodded at him.

He took a step back. Slowly, he began pulling his shirt from where it had been tucked into his slacks. She took a step to close the gap, and said to him, "Sir, if I may?"

"I hope this night never ends."

"By all means, my dear."

She continued pulling his shirt up his torso. His abdominal muscles were clenched with anxiety, the tension that he felt drawing him toward her. He raised his arms, and she pulled his polo shirt over his head.

After a moment's thought, she sank to her knees. The entire way down, she never broke eye contact. Those beautiful blue eyes sparkled in the candlelight. The gaze they shared was broken when she looked down toward his feet. Untying his shoes, she removed them, as well as his socks. She threw them into the growing pile, along with her dress and underthings. Looking back up at him, they locked into another loving stare.

She smiled at him briefly, before reaching toward his belt. Her fingers loosened it, then proceeded to open the button. Slowly, carefully, she pulled his zipper down. She had to press against the lump in his slacks to get the zipper over it.

Reaching up to hook her fingers under the belt, she pulled down his pants, taking his boxers with them. He stepped out of the garments as in as graceful a manner as he could muster.

Thunder rumbled, louder than before, through the open window.

For the first time, she glanced down at his manhood. It was rock hard, and only inches from her face. She sucked in her breath as she took in the sight.

Without removing her eyes from Tom's erect penis, she murmured to herself, "My God, Tom, it's beautiful."

She looked up at him. Her face took on a serious countenance, yet her lips curled at their corners into a smile. He knew what was about to happen.

Tom closed his eyes, leaned back further against the dresser, and prayed that he would be able to be what she was expecting.

She engulfed him.

The warm, wet sensation around his dick was bliss. He felt her take four, five, six inches of it into her mouth. Pulling back, he knew that was as much as she could handle. Only an inch to go before she'd have had it in its entirety. As horny as he was, he hoped that he'd be able to last as long tonight as he'd boasted. He hoped that she'd be happy with what he had to offer her. He wanted to make her feel like a woman again. More than anything, he never wanted his dick to be anywhere else besides somewhere in her body.

He drew a slow breath into his lungs, trying to remain in control.

Slowly she withdrew her mouth from his erect manhood. Lazily opening his eyes, he looked down at her. He was afraid he was about to come when he saw that her blue eyes were still locked on his. Without breaking the stare, she took him into her mouth again.

The picture of pure submission.

Again and again, she took him nearly to his base into her warm mouth. He could feel her tongue swirling around the underside of his penis. It was fortunate for him that he'd spent so many years working on his control; otherwise it might have been a very short night. This woman knew what she was doing.

After a few minutes of her exquisite blowjob, he reached down and pulled her up to him. Fiercely, he kissed her on the mouth. He could tell she was a little startled; he knew right away that John was not the kind of man to touch her lips after they had been wrapped around his cock. But tonight, she was not with John. She was with someone who adored her. His tongue swirled around hers passionately.

"Lie on the bed." He commanded her in a soft voice. This was the moment he'd been dreaming of since the day he'd met her. Strangely, the blowjob was not what he had fantasized about. Given the choice, he'd always known that he would prefer to give oral sex to her, rather than receive it from her.

She knew he was a good employee; he wanted to show her what kind of lover he could be.