Gigolo

He let himself get caught staring at her face, also, then quickly pulled his eyes away and explained. While it was in accordance with the seduction rules, it was also true: she was so lovely that he simply couldn't help himself.

When she asked him about himself, Cyr told her most of the truth. He was a psychologist and worked for an institute that helped abused people recover. Rebecca had described his special 'seduction voice' as "heavy silk" and he enfolded Monica in it, regaling her with humorous anecdotes from his life, often self-deprecating, always clever.

He laughed at her jokes, she at his, and conversation flowed. The meal was delicious, and they truly enjoyed themselves, the banter, the small disputes about the best in everything. It was delightful, and Cyr could tell that Monica was as elated as he.

She paused only a second when he asked if she'd like to go dancing after they'd split a panna cotta for dessert. He was prepared to put on his best, yearning, "Oh, please say yes," look, but it proved unnecessary. Monica, too, did not want the evening to end.

She loved the roses.

When they arrived at the nightclub, however, Monica expressed reservations. "Oh goodness, Cyr. I don't know if this is going to work. I expected to go back to the Med. I don't really know how to dance like this..." Monica's voice faded, her consternation evident, as she saw the couples swooping around the dance floor. The ballroom dance floor.

"Monica, I'm sorry if this isn't good, and we can go elsewhere whenever you like, but let's get a glass of wine first. We can sit and keep talking, and maybe try a dance later if you get the urge."

He saw the clouds lift from her face just a bit when he led her to a table in the back. His choice from the limited wine list proved satisfactory. And was alcoholic. Liquor is indeed quicker. He sat close and again embraced her with his voice as he talked about dancing, pointing out what the couples were doing.

Cyr was not surprised, not in the least, that Monica did not know how to ballroom dance. She'd mentioned it in passing at the Med, and, of course, he'd taken notes.

This was Allan's Seduction Rule V. C: "Isolate her, make her vulnerable, dependent on you, so you can rescue her, bonding her to you."

On a paper napkin Cyr drew the pattern for the waltz footwork -- very simple, and the easiest to learn -- then pointed out how the dancing couples were doing only that, over and over, though they were whirling around the floor.

He could tell Monica was a bit intrigued, and, when the band began the next waltz, a slow one, Cyr stood and offered his hand. Though dubious, Monica took it. He liked this, and her, very much. Aside from being beautiful, intelligent, challenging and charming, she was a sport, willing to risk appearing awkward trying something new.

She didn't seem clumsy, however. Cyr saw to that. Once they'd stayed stationary for a time, tracing the edges of the square the footwork creates, and she got hang of it, he began slightly altering their path, and soon they, too, we spinning about the floor. The waltz was one of Cyr's specialties and, once Monica mastered her footwork, he swept her away.

As their last waltz ended, another slow one during which he'd pulled her close to him, he surrendered to his attraction and kissed her. Lightly, but not quickly. When he pulled back, apologizing for being forward, she smiled and kissed him back. Seriously.

Which changed everything.

Cyr had been following Allan's Rules all night, intending a long, drawn-out seduction of Monica. He would gradually and skillfully arouse her, begin to undress her while distracting her with kisses, and eventually fuck her. Forever. Only after she had come more times than she thought possible would he release his semen and complete their mating.

But no. Her kissing him, especially the second time when she stopped him, pulled his head to her for another, hotter kiss once they were outside the club, made everything clear. Monica was flipping the script, taking the lead. It seemed the seduction -- regardless of who had done the seducing -- had already been successful. Sex was in the offing.

But how?

Clothes. A social norm, yes, but SO inconvenient. Barriers between sexual organs bent on getting acquainted. Solving this pesky issue, for any couple's first time, has traditionally been the man's bailiwick, with him taking the lead and progressively arousing and undressing the woman. Then fucking her. This was especially the norm for Cyr, whose expertise in seduction -- keeping the woman off balance, utilizing all his tried-and-true tricks, and controlling the course of events -- had become second nature.

But not tonight. This would be tit-for-tat, one participant's forward move prompting a responding foray from the other. Monica would give as good as she got.

Which further affected Cyr. Having been increasingly charmed and attracted all night long by her competitive nature, by her beauty, by Monica herself, he found himself powerfully sexually aroused by her second kiss. His heart began to pound, the air was suddenly too thin, and his cock throbbed and ached. Not since his teens had kissing a girl had such impact.

After they made haste to her place, the traditional goodnight kiss at her door prompted but a moment's hesitation. Then Monica dispensed with the courtship rigamarole of "Shall I ask him in? Will he think me a slut if I do?" etc., etc. She simply said, "Come," and dragged Cyr into her apartment.

Once inside, however, regular courtship rules pertained again and Cyr accepted the pro forma offer of another glass of wine. Monica brought them but cannily put them down on the coffee table in front of the couch. Keeping both their hands free. She used hers to cup his cheeks as she kissed him again.

As serious osculation ensued, his hands explored each inch of her silk top, then homed in on those wonderful breasts he'd been eyeing all night. Hers started on his neck, then traced every muscle of his back and sides.

When the searing sparks shooting out from her breasts became too intense, Monica realized the disparity. Cyr was tweaking a level 2 erogenous zone -- her nipples -- whereas her fingers were on his back.

She countered.

Cyr caught his breath and started at the first intense throb when her fingers clasped his hard penis. He began moaning softly as they thoroughly explored his khaki clad cock.

To distract himself from the flashes of fire shooting out from his penis, and progressing towards their tacitly agreed upon goal of dispensing with superfluous garments, Cyr began undoing Monica's buttons. Not a woman to be submissively disrobed, Monica matched him button for button in the undressing. With only one hand, though. The other continued to own his cock.

Cyr paused often to moisten his fingers before again sliding them inside her unbuttoned blouse. Once more feeling disadvantaged -- the fiery frissons his fingertips provoked were unbearably intense -- Monica undid his clasp, lowered his zipper, and slipped her hand inside his boxers to find his ever-enlarging, seemingly never-ending cock. Her sliding the skin along the rock-hard core made it distend and throb, and Cyr winced each time it twitched.

After Monica used her free hand to strip off his shirt, she eagerly ran her fingers over his pecs and abs. Once her blouse jointed his shirt on the floor, Cyr kissed, licked and sucked one nipple while his hand kneaded the other.

The hot flush on Monica's cheeks migrated down her neck, then colored her chest. Finding herself swimming, nearly drowning in arousal, she countered by skillfully fingering Cyr's cock right where the shaft met the head. And spreading the copious pre-cum over the tip with her thumb.

They winced and sighed in concert.

A measure of stasis having been achieved -- wet mouth and teasing tongue matched by slick, slippery thumb and fingertips -- Monica forged ahead.

Cyr raised his hips when her hands indicated that she wanted his pants off him. Once past his butt he helped, and kicked away his boxers and khakis once they pooled at his ankles. Monica's access was much improved. She took full advantage.

When Cyr's mind threatened to be obliterated by the fire she was kindling in his genitals, her one hand possessing the head of his penis while the other caressed his balls, Cyr responded. Needing to see, smell and feel her pussy, he assailed the button and zipper on the side of her fashionable navy capris. Was he so distracted by how she was making his dick lurch and throb that his fingers fumbled? Or was it a seduction technique?

No matter. To save the poor man rendered clumsy by her irresistible charms, and to keep this show on the road, Monica took charge. Once she unzipped her pants, she stood and shimmied her hips as Cyr pulled them down and off, leaving her panties. She shivered as she returned to the couch, awash in the heat of knowing they were approaching the end game.

The rush of libidinous desire made Cyr's glistening eyes lose focus when she reclaimed his cock, but they enlarged as they locked on her vulva. Her puffy, engorged pussy lips could scarcely be contained by the camel-toed crotch of her skimpy black lace panties, and Cyr devoured them with his eyes as he inhaled deeply, savoring the aroma of her sex suffusing the air.

Monica shifted on the couch, gaining better access to his privates. Her movement incidentally parted her thighs just a bit. A tantalizing bit.

Swamped by the raw, aching lust coursing through him, Cyr quickly slid to his knees before Monica, who raised her hips to make it easier when his hands found the waist of her alluring panties. The undressing was almost complete.

The fucking would be next.

"Oh!" Cyr caught his breath when her shaved vulva was revealed. "So, SO beautiful!" he exclaimed as he beheld it. His unmitigated adoration of her most private place made the throbbing in her bared pussy become so intense that it pulsated with her every heartbeat. It was unbearably delicious, then deliciously unbearable when Cyr's hand landed on it, his thumb slipping between her lips. Monica moaned and shivered, her mind submerging under the waves of searing arousal.

At the same time, the aching compulsion to ejaculate emanating from his penis seized Cyr's mind. He envisioned spreading her legs as he wedged himself up and between them, then just sticking his eager, hungry cock into her and erupting.

He began kissing his way up her body.

Arousal such as she had never experienced threatened to overwhelm Monica. Knowing that the only way she could maintain her bearings was to expunge the overpowering inferno raging inside her, Monica did what she must. She grabbed handfuls of Cyr's hair. Hard.

He yielded to her urgency when they levered his head down to her pussy.

Consumed by the seething semen boiling inside him, Cyr assailed her entire pussy. He needed to quickly make her come, then just stick it in and get off. He slurped noisily, eating her up, and once he had mouthed its entire length, he unleashed his tongue in long, lashing licks, laving her outer lips, then invading her core.

Her mind erased by the conflagration roaring inside her, Monica's hands instinctively guided him, his tongue, to where she wanted it. Where she needed it. Onto the trigger that would set her off and release the seething fire burning her up.

Avid to learn how she liked it best, and to get her off immediately so he could finally fuck her, Cyr let her sounds be his guide and found the sweet spot.

Perfection.

Unable to stand the searing ecstasy a second longer, Monica pushed his head away when her orgasm exploded. Cyr's burning, throbbing cock hungrily twitched as, from inches away, he watched her vulva convulse, her vagina blossoming open then clenching shut with each wave of rapture.

Cyr was torn, his two brains in conflict. The one in his cock only wanted to fuck her, right now, while the other wanted to make love to her. He hesitated.

Monica didn't. She grabbed his hair more firmly and pulled him to her pussy once more.

Her piquant bouquet drove his desire impossibly higher as he hungrily lapped up her juice. It was as bountiful as it was delicious, and, once done, his circled tongue plunged it into her vagina, plumbing her depths. Ravenous for more.

When the edgy, nervous energy spawned by his tongue built quickly and once again demanded release, Monica's hands dragged him higher. He plowed up her furrow, licking, tasting, feasting. Her wince made Cyr realize the tip of her clitoris was still too sensitive, so he followed her lead and went higher still, rolling its hood over the shaft. He eagerly noted how she responded suddenly more ardently when he changed his licks to vertical. How it dragged her clit's sheath over the tip seemed perfect.

As did Monica's 2nd orgasm.

She again pushed him away and Cyr's cock throbbed in concert each time her vagina rhythmically opened and closed. The pulsations in his penis seized control. Needing to immediately stick it in her and expel the seething, molten fluid burning him up, Cyr wedged himself between her thighs and wormed up her body.

"Not here! Come!" Monica rolled to the side, off the couch, jumped up, grabbed Cyr by the cock and pulled him into her bedroom.

"Lie down." As Cyr obeyed, Monica pulled a condom from her bedside table. After she rolled it on him, she rolled him onto his back. And mounted up.

Her breath caught each time she pushed up and away, reacting to having something too big, perhaps way too big, invading her pussy. But she persevered. Once she finally had herself fully impaled, Monica began a gentle, hardly perceptible rocking. Cyr caressed her breasts, running his thumbs over her delightfully large and very hard nipples.

Finding her groove, Monica gradually increased the depth and tempo of her strokes. As the fucking intensified, the seething fire in both their genitals kindled ever higher, ever hotter. The compulsion driven by the semen inflating Cyr's tubing was matched by the wildfire searing Monica's pussy, and her small sighs morphed into moans, then whimpers, and finally gentle cries as the inevitable arrived.

Too soon for Cyr. Just as he was about to tip over the edge, to finally release his boiling spunk, Monica lifted up so Cyr's tip was just at her entrance. She froze, then trembled and shook as her orgasm swept through her.

Denied the stimulation needed to get off, and wanting to feel her contractions on his entire penis instead of just the end of the tip, Cyr pulled her down to him as he thrust his cock into her. Deep and hard. Monica recoiled, whimpering and gasping, and her hands flew to his belly, pushing him away. Too much.

Cyr groaned as he fell back down, and clenched his teeth in frustration as the scalding semen seethed, teetering on the edge.

Once her long, shuddering climax had passed, Monica collapsed down onto his chest and he held her, stroking her back. She caught her breath when his hands found her buttocks, and he savored the silky, soft, succulence of her ass as he kneaded it.

Cyr simply couldn't help himself. Rebecca's relentless edges and denials that afternoon, plus the building attraction and arousal from dinner and dancing, and that his penis was almost inside this gorgeous woman he'd desired more intently all night long, made everything simple. Cyr simply had to come.

The brain in his cock took over.

Cyr subtly pulled her ass to him as he imperceptibly rolled his hips, easing the head of his penis into Monica's vaginal opening. She shuddered, flinched away from him and whispered, "Please, Cyr, give me just another moment. It's too soon for me."

Cyr groaned as his frustrated, aching penis throbbed and quivered, its tip bobbing just outside the gates of heaven but denied entry.

His groan must have been pitiful, as Monica pulled her head up and looked at him.

And understood.

Rallying to the moment, Monica kissed him, eased down, scooped him fully into her, and began to fuck him again. The squishy sounds of sex, the spicy aromas of arousal, and deep sighing breaths filled the room.

When Cyr realized that Monica, too, was drawing near, he knew he needed to hurry lest he be stranded again. He focused on how amazingly tight her pussy was, how incredibly hot and wet, how her vagina coddled his cock and stimulated every cell. When his urethral bulb begin to spasm, he let go.

Like hers, his breathing became ragged, irregular, and urgent. As the mass of semen began to surge up his cock, searing every nerve, his hands found Monica's cheeks, fingers lovingly coddling them. Their eyes locked and he saw the gratification, the sense of fulfillment and true Joy wash over her visage as he felt his lips begin to tremble and his eyes flicker as the first jet of cum burst out of his cock.

Though it was in accordance with Allan's Seduction Rule IX. G.: "Let her see your strength turn to vulnerability, how her femininity, her womanliness, can transform you," it was completely genuine, not a seduction technique. As always, however, Allan's Rules worked. Monica's eyes conveyed the profound intimacy the completion of their sex had engendered. Cyr's knew his revealed the same.

Once they both could breathe again, she collapsed down onto him, limp, relaxed and totally spent. As she rolled off onto her front beside him, Cyr removed the condom and tied it. He noted Monica's eyes grow wider as she saw how full it was and used the opportunity. "Condoms seldom fail, but, even if it had, you'd be safe. At least from STDs. I was tested two days ago and I'm OK. I can show you the test result it you like."

He kissed her, then continued. "I love kissing you," Cyr paused, licked his lips as his eyes roamed over her body and continued, "Everywhere, and just want to assure you that you're safe."

"I... Thank you for that, Cyr. It's good to know. And actually, even if the condom had burst, which seems possible given how full you filled it," Monica giggled, "It would be OK. I'm on the pill."

Cyr nodded and waited for her to address the other elephant looming about the room. "Actually, I can reassure you, too. After I realized that my last boyfriend was such a jerk, and had slept around, I had myself tested after we broke up. The test was fine, and I haven't been with anyone since."

Cyr had been stroking and caressing Monica ever since their orgasms. It was aftercare, designed to intensify their intimate connection and eventually to prepare her for another go. He sensed that her arousal level, like his, had spiked markedly when they had implicitly agreed that round two would feature him ejaculating directly into her pussy.

Monica said, "Oooh," when his erecting cock prodded her hip.

When she made to roll towards him, however, Cyr quickly sat up, threw one leg over her waist, and began gently rubbing Monica's shoulders. He had plans and wanted her face down. She sighed as he dug his fingers into her, kneading, exploring. He made himself take time, even as his desire quickly soared, incited by imagining how her silky vagina would feel surrounding and caressing his bare penis. He could hardly wait to fill her compact sleeve to overflowing, to mingle their cum.

Monica's breathing deepened as she relaxed under Cyr's strong, skillful hands. He lightly kissed each and every part of her, replacing his fingers with his lips each time they moved lower. It created a curious juxtaposition. Monica sank deeper and deeper into a warm, cozy, even lethargic arousal, while Cyr, spurred by touching, kissing, and intimately caressing every part of her body, felt his libido surge ever higher.

Especially driven by picturing exactly how he was about to fuck her.

When he reached her buttocks he kneaded her muscles even slower, working each gluteus medius first, then assailing her left maximus. As he worked down its length, Cyr let his hands slide inward to include her inner hamstring. Next to her pussy. When he moved to her right globe, Monica obligingly spread her legs a bit further when his fingers prodded them apart.