All the World's a Stage Ch. 02

Dave Matthews is a poet, in the purest, most magical sense of the word. There's something ethereal about what he does with the image of a couple laughing and dancing in the rain.

Once we had fought our way through to the baggage claim area and retrieved his luggage (which was only one fairly small shoulder bag) we were ready to grab a cab and head back to Midtown, and Essex House, where a king bed in a Jacuzzi suite was waiting for us. Habib the cab driver was long gone, but we grabbed an airport shuttle and headed back into the city. Somehow we managed to avoid groping each other into frenzy on the ride back, but when we hit standstill traffic near 72nd Street, we decided to pay off the driver and walk the rest of the way back to the hotel. It wasn't such a long way, and we could go through Central Park.

"So, how were your training sessions?" Kristoff took my hand and directed me along the sidewalk, heading towards the tunnel.

"Training? . .. . Oh, right." His question had snapped me out of my daydream, where we were already in the room running a tub of hot water, and I was asking him which massage oil he wanted to try first. I shook my head, blinking, and tried to pay attention. "It was fine, I guess. To be honest, it was a little tough to focus on the recent changes to the Fair Labor Standards Act when I knew I'd be with you the day after it was through."

"Well, that's not setting the bar very high, is it?" he laughed. "I mean, if the thought of four days alone with me couldn't distract you from employment law, that's not saying much, eh?" He stopped walking and turned towards me. He raised the hand he was holding to his lips and kissed my fingers, smiling as he looked into my dark, almost black eyes. "I've been thinking about it too. The things you do, the things you've said you'll do . . .I've not gotten much work done this week either. The folks at the office chalked my distraction up to how busy we've been, but they didn't know what was waiting for me here." He put his arm around my shoulders and we started walking again. "Thanks for talking me into this trip."

"You've no need to thank me, sir. 'Twas purely a selfish act on my part," I said, in my best Irish lass brogue. "Seriously, it's been damn hard to get together the last few months, these last weeks especially. I figured if I could get you out of town, I'd have you all to myself." I gave him a quick one-armed hug around the waist. "It's temporary, I know, but I intend to enjoy it while it lasts."

"I've been wondering about that. How are you going to deal with going back to the "real world" 'tina? Your husband and child, and the people at your job? None of whom can know what happened the during those extra days you spent seeing the sights in New York?"

I arched my eyebrows and twisted my lips in a wry grin, and exhaled sharply through my nose. "The same way I've always dealt with it, but now I'll have more scenes to put in my fantasies."

"It's not that simple, and you know it. I care about you, true, but I'm not about to mess up so many relationships as are affected here. We have to be able to live our respective lives after this time-out-of-time has passed."

"I know. And I've accepted that you don't want to break up my marriage. We've been through this. I'll take the time I can spend with you at whatever level we can both accommodate. I won't spend my life looking back and wishing I hadn't been afraid to take the chance. And we'll go on from there."

We had reached the fountain, with its Angel of the Waters sculpture in the middle of a gorgeous pool. The tour guides always say that walking down the steps of the Bethesda Terrace towards the fountain is to walk into tranquillity. His face, however, as he sat on the low wall and cradled his head in his hands, was far from peaceful.

"Can you do that?"

I looked down at my feet and took a deep breath. I raised my eyes to meet his. "Yes," I said simply.

--

We had been deep in conversation, and neither of us noticed the black clouds had rolled in and we were about to be caught in a torrential downpour. The first drops landed harshly, abruptly on my head and were soon followed by what felt like buckets of cold rainwater being poured down my neck and shoulders. I was immediately soaked to the skin.

"Let's go!" I urged, and pulled him up from his seat on the wall. He grabbed his bag and we ran, hand in hand, towards the far end of the park and the hotel. We had almost made it, too, when I tripped on the heavy wetness of my dress and fell flat on my ass – feet and legs splayed out in front of me, skidding to a stop in a puddle of muddy water and grass.

Kristoff stopped short next to me, still holding my hand tightly. He looked down where I sat, laughing, my face raised to the clean rain. I opened my mouth and stuck out my tongue to catch the drops falling heavy from the sky. He must have thought for a moment that I had completely lost my mind, but he suddenly smiled and fell to his knees next to me. "You look ridiculous, you know," he laughed. "Oh, what the hell..."

He stripped off his jacket and lay it on the ground behind me. He then took my shoulders, firmly, and pulled me up to my knees to meet him. I wrapped my arms around his neck, frantically caressing and mussing his short brown hair, as we kissed passionately in the pouring rain. I pulled him with me as I lay back on his jacket, feeling his length warm against my body. Water dripped down on from his nose and chin onto my face as I smiled up at him.

I closed my eyes as his mouth made its way down my neck to the top of my dress. The pale, drenched fabric did little to conceal my breasts, or my nipples made hard by the cold and the excitement jutting rigid against the thin material. His fingers worked open the top three buttons of my dress, and his hot mouth quickly sought out a rosy peak. I gasped at the contrast of his warmth and the cold rain, and called out in pleasure, arching my back and hips against his chest. His hands squeezed my breasts together such that my nipples were only and inch or so apart, and he teased me, tormented me, by quickly licking and nipping first one side and then the other. My head and shoulders twisted against the wet earth, as I writhed under the heat of his touch. He left steaming trails of fire across my skin, everywhere his hands and mouth roamed.

"So, do you figure everyone else who was around here had the sense to get in out of the rain?" he asked, bringing his mouth close to my ear so I could hear him over the downpour. His breath was ragged with excitement.

"No doubt," I said. "What have you got in mind?"

"Let me show you . . ." and his mouth traced its path back down to my nipples and paused there briefly, taking time to suckle each one in turn, and then moved further down across to my belly and the triangle at the top of my legs.

When I fell the back of my dress had been pushed up high on the backs of my legs, and the last four or five buttons of the skirt had popped off and were never to be seen again. That left just one or two to unfasten, and to peel back of my wet dress, before my mons was fully revealed to his roving mouth, and any roving eye that perhaps didn't seek shelter already.

"My, my, my, full of surprises today, aren't we?"

"Yes, but this isn't quite the scenario I had pictured when I did it." I had shaved my pussy clean of hair that morning, and he had just discovered my bareness. His head dipped down and he explored, kissing my thighs and the tops of my legs that all morning long had been damply awaiting his touch. He gently spread my legs and brought his face close to me, and after what seemed a lifetime of waiting, tasted me with one long, slow stroke of his tongue.

"Oh god yes! Yes!" I shouted.

"SHIT woman, hush! Shhhhhhh, you can't scream like that. Shhh, or Ill have to stop." He hushed me quickly, his dark eyes darting around looking for anyone moving from under the trees or tunnel. There was no one in sight, but still . . .He pushed his hair back from his forehead and looked at me - "Can you be quiet?"

"I'll be quiet, I promise. Please, please eat me . . . I'm going mad with wanting you. I want to feel your tongue on my cunt . . . please"

"It would be my pleasure, lovely lady. Just remember – we really don't need an audience here."

His head disappeared between my legs, and his mouth ravished me in the most wonderful ways imaginable. Desperate not to give him a reason to stop again, I bit my finger and mewed as I fought against the shouts and moans building up inside me. The pressure and tension and awaited possibilities of the last three days all welled up crashed over me in an amazing orgasm, detonating a series of explosions that shot through my body, spinning me around and around with the force of a tidal wave. I grabbed the collar of his shirt and dragged him up and over me, and pulled his head down to my mouth. Kissing him, thanking him, and tasting myself on his lips and his wonderful, magical tongue.

"We should go. It's almost stopped raining, though I doubt you've taken the time to notice . . ."

"Well, yes, I was a bit, um, distracted. Help me up, here, would you?" He took my hand and helped me to my feet.

"You know, I don't believe that dress will be salvageable. It's a shame, really. It was pretty before we rolled around in the mud . . ."

"Maybe I can do the Monica Lewinski thing and save it – sort of a souvenir of the day? What do you think?"

"I think if you want a souvenir we should go to the Statue of Liberty or the Empire State Building. The dress is garbage." He handed me his jacket. "Here, put this around you. It's not any cleaner, but at least it's not see-through."

I did as I was instructed and he picked up his bag. "At this rate, we'll have to eat lunch before we get checked into the hotel."