tagErotic CouplingsA New Beginning

A New Beginning

byHotscribe©

The slight breeze from the window gently wafts across my body, the whisper of cold sending ripples across my skin, and my nipples tighten. The coolness of the morning air is fresh and pleasant, and I simply lie awake, savoring the solitude and the song of waking birds.

Dan has been away for three days now, and I miss him less with every passing day. I still can’t believe I ever got involved with a man like that. My self-esteem is low enough without his constant nattering. Isn’t that the manly way though, quick with the criticism, but slow with the support. Well no more. Today is the start of a new chapter in my life, and I am so ready.

The blasting shower, prickling my back with needling sensation is exquisite. I turn toward the showerhead, and lean back slightly to allow the pulsing water to drench my breasts in the spray. My nipples tingle under the onslaught of sensations, and arousal courses through me. I pinch the hardened points, adding to the warming rush of emotion. I am tempted to just let my fingers drift downward, but I belay the thought for now, anxious to get on with this day.

Showered, dressed and primped to the nines, I’m all set for the appointment. I do a little pirouette in front of the full-length mirror, looking for anything amiss, and finding none. I run my hands down my hips, and wonder how Dan ever thought my ass was fat. I wonder just what it was that he disliked about curves. I love the way this dress hugs the every nuance of my ass, and exemplifies the swell of my full breasts. I giggle, thinking that anyone I get involved with again has surely got to be an ass and boob man. A quick run-through with my fingers in my newly bobbed hair, and I am set. I take a final glance in the mirror, and I like the new look. The sassy pixie looks great, and the ease of maintenance is a refreshing change.

The drive to the real estate office is even a pleasant task. The usual sharing of the road with the morning commuters isn’t the tension filled nightmare of a week ago. God that man drove me, but just thinking about the last words to him brings a smile. Nothing like a screamed ‘get the fuck out’ to really drive home a point. I am almost laughing as I think about it. I feel so great I can hardly stand it.

I wheel into a parking spot just off the front entrance of the agency. The building looks impressive enough, but what I want right now is results, and I expect no less than that. I didn’t know the agent I was going to speak to, but he came highly recommended. Well his add in the paper looked impressive anyway. The only little concern I had was perhaps his age. That’s certainly something a newly unattached babe who’s twenty-nine and holding would be anxious about. I want to keep my options open, even if this does turn out to be strictly a business visit.

As I enter the open and airy office, a matronly receptionist greets me. I sure hope she isn’t his mother, although her friendly manner isn’t hard to take. She offers me a seat as she tells me that Brad would see me straight away. I decline her offer for a drink, although I suppose I should have enquired if it contained rum. A good rum-buzz would have fit my present mood nicely.

I had just flipped open the first pages of a magazine, when the receptionist came back and said “Brad will see you now,” and she motioned for me to follow. She walked me past several still empty desks, and opened a door to a large office in the back of the agency. That’s when I first laid eyes on Brad, and what a delectable sight he was.

When he stood and rounded the desk to greet me, I was impressed already. He stood about six five, and for a girl that stands five eleven in flats, that’s a pleasant sight. I can’t stand being next to a man whose face is eye-level with my breasts, as it always makes for an awkward situation. I certainly don’t discourage a man from openly ogling my boobs, but when they carry on a conversation with them, well that’s annoying.

We exchange pleasantries, and a handshake. I love his large hands fully wrapping my own. I watch his eyes closely, and they only leave mine for a brief second, of course sneaking what he thinks is an unnoticed glance at my breasts. I like that.

After I’m seated, we begin a little discussion about the weather, interest rates, and of course the housing market. I know all this but I listen intently, well at least it gives me the opportunity to check him out properly.

My eyes drink in his handsome features, packaged so well in the crisp and beautifully fitted suit. The lack of any jewelry on his hands, particularly a wedding ring, also piques my interest. It’s somewhere between the current home sales statistics and the economic state of the nation, that I drift away, thinking only of his long fingers. I watch his hands fiddling with a pencil as he delivers his spiel. All I can think about is what those fingers could do to me, and of course the old theory about the length of a man’s fingers relating directly to the length of a certain part of his anatomy. I feel the familiar tingle of desire in my nipples as they tighten and stress the thin fabric of my bra. He notices too.

I haven’t heard ten words of his pitch when he asks me, “Well, what do you think”

“Sounds interesting,” I reply, my mind suddenly jarred back to reality and I frantically search the archives for a snappy reply, “perhaps you should see the place and you could give me a better idea of what to expect?”

“That sounds perfect,” he replies, smiling warmly.

I’m relieved I actually came up with something that sounded reasonable, but I’m still a little unsure of just what I have agreed to.

“The only appointment time I have open for the rest of the week is just before noon tomorrow, would that be alright?” he asks.

“I’m off tomorrow, so that would work out for me too,”

“Great, I’ll be over about eleven then,” he replies, still smiling. I like the fact he still has all his teeth, and well polished too.

“See you then,” I reply, noting him rising to escort me to the door. It’s polite of him, but I hope his move is also to check out my ass while my back is turned. After all, I am still thinking about those fingers of his.

The drive home is a series of heady thoughts about Brad. Just days without a man in my life and I am already poised for the hunt. Damn it feels good.

I have great plans for getting a real head start on some last minute cleaning, but those plans vanish as I open the door to the ringing phone. It’s Mary, and she’s concerned about me. She tells me there’s only one way to be cheered up after a breakup, and that’s a serious shopping expedition. She hasn’t suffered a similar situation, but in her case she simply considers a good shop as preventative maintenance. Who can argue with that? I agree to meet her, and besides, a nice new and well fitting outfit would be perfect for tomorrow.

I don’t know where the day went, but it’s after eight when I get home. I’m exhausted, and the odor of heated plastic emanating from my purse tells me the shopping was hectic and frenzied. I love it. Well I certainly wasn’t in the mood for any cleaning duties; those could wait until tomorrow morning. Right now it was time for a good soak, a nightcap and off to bed, curled up with a nice romantic novel of course.

I’m up and at it first thing in the morning, and finally finish with the cleaning. A good soaking is in order before I have to get dressed for Brad. As the large garden tub fills, I whip off the sweats and have my usual gander at my naked body in the mirror. I’m pleased I don’t have a single blemish on my ass, or anywhere else for that matter. A cursory look for any stray nipple hairs is always in order, and the twins are good to go. I give the thirty eights a little wiggle, and I like how the headlights bob straight ahead, and simply scream to be noticed. I smile.

I gingerly climb into the tub, now filled to capacity and steaming hot. A couple of gasps later, I’m neck deep in the soothing heat. I lay my head back in the little depression at the end of it, and savor the surrounding warmth, the bubbles of the bath oils just touching my chin. This is heaven.

I close my eyes, thinking about the dark haired stranger who so completely ravished me last night. Well at least in my dream. I make a mental note to pick up another novel by Christina Reeves. That book was absolutely the hottest read just before drifting off to sleep. My left hand finds my right nipple, the most sensitive one, and I tweak at the hardening flesh.

Two tweaks later, I feel the stirring of sensation in my groin, and my right hand slips between my thighs. I run my hand over my shaven mound, the smooth slickness intensified by the bath oil. I toy with the little tuft of hair at the very top, carefully trimmed to direct anyone’s attention downward. I don’t think men exactly need a roadmap, but I don’t like taking chances. I run a finger along the outer lips, testing for any sign of bristle. Sure, Brad has a little brush guard growing on his upper lip, but a whisker burn is not what I want to give him. My finger slips a little deeper into the slick depths as I think of Brad. Could he possibly know I have seduction on my mind?

A three-finger grip on my nipple and a pussy full of fingers has me on a full charge toward a very intense orgasm. I am right on the edge when the moment is shattered by the loud and incessant ‘Riiinnnggg, Riinnnggg, Riiinnnggg’ of the phone.

“Shit, shit, shit…this better be good,” I curse as the damn thing continues to ring. My legs are like jelly as I crawl out of the tub, wrapping a large towel around me. I drip my way to the nightstand and snatch up the phone.

I feel a lot better when I hear Brad’s voice.

“Hi Anne” he says, almost apologetic, “Hope I didn’t catch you at a bad time”

“No, actually you just gave me a break from housework” I lie, as I fall onto my back on the bed, the towel tossed and fingers again at my crotch, “what’s up?”

“Well I’m running a little late, and I probably won’t be able to make it over there until about eleven thirty…is that still alright?”

“No problem at all,” I reply, almost gasping as my fingers massage my hardening clit between them, “In fact, how about I invite you for lunch”. I damn well knew what I’d love to feed him.

“Hey that sounds great!” he said enthusiastically. “Thanks ”

“I’ll see you around eleven thirty then”

“See you then” Brad replies, “Bye for now”

The phone isn’t quite hung up yet when the first waves of orgasm tear through me. I pray he didn’t hear the scream.

I am still giddy as I slowly weave my way back to the tub.

After a settling soak, I am busy wondering just what I can possibly feed the man, other than the planned beaver. That was reserved for the second course, if all went as I hoped it would. Sadly, the only place I can cook is the room farthest from the kitchen, so I flip through the frozen entrée’s in the freezer, hoping to find a matching pair. Thankfully a couple pasta meals surface, and they are almost identical. Relieved, I head back to the bedroom to dress.

Two hours and eight changes later, I’m ready, preened to perfection and dressed in the new clothes I bought yesterday. I decide to go with the simple white blouse and the short black skirt. It has the professional appeal that I thought Brad would enjoy, of course being braless and panty less would only add to the appeal should he care to investigate. With a final twirl in front of the mirror, and I’m off to do battle with the pasta, debating whether to use the oven or just nuke the stuff. I decide on the microwave as I enter the kitchen.

At precisely eleven thirty, I hear the doorbell. I try not to run to the door.

“Hi Brad, really good to see you again. Hope you brought a hearty appetite” and I didn’t mean it to be for the pasta.

“Hey good to see you too, and thanks for the invite to lunch” he responds. “Us single guys don’t often get good home cooking”

I hope the Swanson’s lives up to his expectations.

“Well come on in, lunch is all ready, so lets indulge”

The pasta came out remarkable well, and we actually enjoy a rather decent meal. I make a mental note to mix slightly different pasta’s from now on. Nothing like learning a new trick or two when it comes to cooking. Lunch with Brad turns out to be a delightful time. He’s immaculately dressed, well mannered and very polite. He’s quick with the compliments, and even has a vocabulary consisting of more than a series of grunts and gestures. He’s a wonderful contrast to the usual jackass sitting across the table from me, and I find myself enjoying his presence more by the minute.

When the last of the pasta is consumed, I rise to get the desert from the refrigerator. I think about doing a serious lean, perhaps letting him know I am indeed bare-assed beneath the skirt, but decided against it. That might be just a tad too overt.

I managed to scrounge up a can of fruit cocktail from the pantry, although I couldn’t exactly recall when I had bought it. It still looked good when I opened the can earlier. I almost feel guilty while waiting for Brad to test the first spoonful. I dive into my portion after his third mouthful.

With the last of the desert gone, Brad is quick to compliment me on the wonderful lunch. Now if there’s one thing that I can really appreciate in a man, it’s his ability to pay a compliment on a frozen entrée, and not whine about it being the consistency of cardboard. He was a charmer all right, and the whole situation was turning out even better than I had envisioned.

“Let me just put the dishes away, and I’ll give you the grand tour”

“Want some help,” he replies quickly, rising from his chair.

“Heavens no,” I reply, “it’ll just take a moment”

I can feel his gaze roaming my nipples as I take the plates from in front of him. The sensation has the desired effect, and I feel the hardening points press to the silky blouse. They are eraser hard as I deposit the dishes in the sink. I catch him staring as I turn toward him, and I feel the first beginnings of moistness dampen my pussy. I look at his long fingers spread across the table.

“Come,” I say softly, “I’ll give you a little tour”

“Great”

“How about we start with the patio,” I say, knowing the bright sunlight was sure to increase the opaqueness of my blouse and allow him to observe the every bump and wrinkle of my erect nipples.

He follows me out the patio doors, and I toss in a little exaggerated wiggle, just for good measure.

“This is really nice,” he remarks. I’m not sure if it’s the fact that he can see right through my blouse or he has a thing for a very Spartan patio. I don’t care; either reason would be cause for celebration.

He’s still remarking about the patio’s potential as we go back into the condo to tour the bedrooms. I am brimming with enthusiasm for the possibilities, and I feel the ache of intense desire in my breasts. The twins are demanding attention.

The glance into the spare bedroom is thankfully brief, and I’m so happy he decides against opening the closet. I knew the doors were practically ready to explode with all the junk and clothing I had packed so tightly behind them. The total lack of any furnishings gave the room a very airy appeal, well at least that’s what Brad said, and who was I to argue. The short walk to the master bedroom seems like an eternity in slow motion. It’s now or never. I am certainly ready, but would he be? An acorn of doubt begins to manifest itself into a giant oak as I reached for the doorknob.

As I hold the door, Brad moves past me, and I feel his brushing touch across my nipples, jutting hard against my blouse. The sensation sends a pang of desire shooting through me.

As I turn to follow, he suddenly turns, and we collide. I am momentarily off balance, and I feel his arms wrap me. I couldn’t have planned it better.

“Good heavens!” Brad exclaims, “Excuse my clumsiness”

“No problem,” I say, noting his lack of desire to remove his arms from my waist, “I’m just glad you caught me”

Without even thinking about it, my hands reach behind me and cover his, and I press tighter to him. A gentle push, and I maneuver his hands downward, and I feel the warmth of his hands spanning my ass. It’s a good feeling.

We are looking into each other’s eyes, and my arms move around his torso, pulling me closer. The sudden warmth of his lips on mine is exquisite. I feel his ardor growing with the intensity of the kisses, and I press to the growing bulge in his slacks. Can a seductress be seduced?

I’m becoming more aroused by the second, and my one lone inhibition falls away as easily as his suit jacket. We look wordlessly into each other’s eyes as my fingers pull his tie from the collar, and begin unbuttoning his shirt. I get weak-kneed as his hands hike my skirt, and I feel the warm touch of his long fingers cupping my bare ass. The hard bulge of his groin, pressed so tight to me, adds to my aroused senses.

His hands leave my ass as I peel his shirt from him, my fingers running through the mat of chest hair as I finish. I revel in the rugged features of his upper torso.

I lean slightly away from him, allowing his fingers to manipulate the buttons of my blouse. The touch of his hands between my cleavage is electrifying, and my nipples ache with desire. He doesn’t rush, and that pleases me.

As my blouse drifts away from my body, he’s cupping my breasts in his large hands, and I moan slightly as his fingers dance across the hardened points. My own fingers busy with his belt and zipper.

He undoes the small belt of my skirt, and with a gentle tug the waist clears the swell of my hips, and it falls to my feet. I am naked, aroused and alive before him, and his eyes rove my form. I slowly move closer, kissing down his chest as I kneel before him, pulling off his slacks as I move. I am eye level with the pronounced bulge in his jockey’s, and my hands move to the waist, slowly peeling them over his cock. I almost gasp as his stiffening cock clears the elastic band, bobbing shamelessly. If his dimensions are any indication, I’m going to pay a lot closer attention to the length of a man’s fingers. He’s well endowed indeed. A little more of a tug, and off come the underwear, and my hands move to his cock. I don’t have to lean to kiss the flared knob.

His hands are in my hair as the growing phallus reaches full height. This is where I stop. This cock would be savored. I rise, kissing him softly, and pull him toward the bed. I was particularly needy right now, and I wasn’t about to be denied.

His lips and hands are everywhere as he falls to the bed with me. It’s like he somehow knows that ravishing my right nipple will get him everywhere, and he makes the most of it. I’m on fire as he mouths and bites the sensitive flesh. I’m too hot for a slow savor, and our movements become more frenzied.

My legs spread at the touch of fingers to my dampened pussy. I am so ready as his kisses drift downward, his tongue stopping to swirl my navel, then moving downward. The moment his lips caress my pussy lips is exquisite, and I spread further.

My moistened fingers grip my nipples, firmly pulling as his kisses intensify. His tongue begins a delicious lashing exploration, the tip finding the ever-changing point of pleasure so expertly. He has me on a roller coaster of sensation, up and down with every stroke of his tongue. I squirm beneath his touch.

I moan loudly as his fingers bury deep into my slick wetness, and his tongue lashes at my clit. He has me at the precipice of desire, and one step away from the free-floating ecstasy of orgasm. I leap.

Ferocious contractions grip my entire being as he mouths my exposed and swollen clit. I vibrate from head to toe in the electrifying sensation, as wave upon wave of rippling pleasures course through me. I am lost, wanton and weak when it ends. I quiver as the last ripples ebb, and Brad moves beside me, kissing my nape. I wonder if I’m still in control as I wallow in the pleasure. I no longer care.

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