Hello Dahlia Ch. 01

Dahlia stayed behind to help clean up. I did not expect her to do that, but I was glad, because I did not get to spend much time with her. As always, she was dressed casually, but conservatively. She wore shorts that came to mid thigh, a green T shirt, and a blouse that was unbuttoned, but tied at the waist.

When everything was cleaned up I slumped on the couch. "That was a pretty good time. Did you have fun?"

She said, "Yes, I did. I am glad I came". She walked over to a cooler and grabbed two bottles of Sol Beer and a plate of limes. She offered me a bottle and sat on the coffee table directly opposite me. The look of sadness that was common in recent weeks was in her eyes, greater than I had ever seen it before.

"Dahlia, what's wrong?"

With that simple question, the dam that was holding her emotions in check for the past months burst, and I realized that the hard façade she wore was as fragile as an eggshell.

She told me that she was not happy with her life. Her husband was emotionally and physically abusive. He believed that her career was secondary and that anything he did for his job was okay, but anything she did for hers was destroying her family and made her an unfit parent. The nature of being a lawyer in Mexico meant that the hours were long: often until 7:30 and as late as 11:00 when there was a looming deadline. He resented every minute he had to spend time taking care of their son.

She told me that her husband came off like a saint when they were with other people or when it was just the three of them, but as soon as they were alone together, he was demeaning, insulting and he made her feel insignificant.

She also told me that he had several affairs with women in his office and once he gave her a STD. In six years, she had never cheated, but he accused her of giving HIM the STD. She quickly added that she was clean and now makes him use a condom, although they have not had sex in months.

"Why do you stay with him? You are beautiful and smart and any man would be proud to be with you."

"Thank you, but I do not believe in divorce; I vowed to stay with him through good times and bad. There have been more bad times then I expected, but if it were it not for him, she would not have Juan Carlos."

She was a strikingly beautiful woman, and I could only imagine how wonderful a person she would be if the veil of sadness was lifted and her inhibitions eliminated.

The tears flowed. I think she felt trapped in a life that many women simply accept. They believe that happiness is not something to which they are entitled. I reached over and took her hands in mine. There was very little that I could say at that moment to make her feel better. As soon as I touched her, she got off the coffee table and sat on the couch. She laid her head on my shoulder and sobbed. I drew her as close to me as possible and tried to comfort her. Minutes passed. Finally she picked up her head and sort of cried and laughed at he same time.

"I am so sorry that you had to see me cry like a baby. I don't know what came over me."

And I don't know what came over me. I leaned down and kissed her tear soaked cheeks. She responded by kissing me gently on the lips. There was a pause, as we looked into each other's eyes. As I leaned in to kiss her lips again, her mouth opened and we kissed powerfully and sensuously. Our tongues met and entwined. I pulled her close to me as we embraced and explored each other's body through our clothes. The kisses became more intense and deeper.

Then, as quickly as it happened, she pushed me away. She got up, grabbed her things, kissed me on the cheek and was out the door.

I sat on the couch and said, out loud to myself, "What the fuck just happened here?" It was a phrase I repeated to myself several times over the course of the evening...What the fuck DID happen here?

A couple of hours later, my phone rang, and it was Dahlia. Her voice had the coolness and detachment of the attorney I met several months ago. Her voice did not betray that we had been in a passionate embrace just a couple of hours before. "I just wanted to call and tell you what a wonderful time I had. The food was excellent. Thank you."

She hung up and I stared at the phone..."What the fuck IS happening here?"

Two weeks passed, and I only met with Dahlia three or four times and it was all business. She cancelled two of our regularly scheduled weekly dinners. I was convinced that I was run over by a combination of female hormones and bad timing. I made the best of it, however, since I had a job to do and had a CEO, CFO and group of investors who were interested in results and were not interested in the problems of a Mexican attorney, so I turned my full effort towards finishing the job.

I was confident enough that the project was advancing at a pace that would allow me to go to the home office to give an in-person briefing to the company board and then to the lenders who financed the project. The end of the grace period on the construction loan was less than a year away; everyone was concerned about the status of the project. (And I was concerned about the $250,000 bonus I would earn by finishing before the expiration of the grace period.)

On Saturday morning, three weeks after my barbeque, I called Dahlia to let her know that I was heading to the States to give a report to the home office. I told her that I would be gone for a couple of weeks. I was very surprised by her reaction, especially given the coolness of our relationship over the past few of weeks. She was very upset that I was leaving.

A few minutes after I hung up the phone, there was a knock on my door and when I opened it, Dahlia was there. She was dressed in a light-weight skirt and top. I was only wearing a pair of loose-fitting gym shorts and a tee-shirt. She looked very sexy until I noticed that she had been crying.

"Hey, what's the matter?"

She rushed into the room and wrapped her arms around my neck.

"Oh, David, I just realized what you mean to me. I don't know how I can last two weeks without seeing you. I don't know what I will do."

"I'm sorry, but I am really confused. You have barely been civil to me since I tried to comfort you after the barbeque. Now, you come to my door and tell me you cannot stand being apart."

"I am so sorry about the way I acted. It is just that what happened was so unexpected. I felt so safe in your arms, and then when we kissed, I realized I was in very dangerous territory. I knew that I wanted you, but I also knew that it was so wrong."

I led her to my living room. Instead of sitting on the sofa, I sat on one of my bar stools. This brought me down to her height, and I reached out, pulled her to me and put my arms around her. I held her for a long time as she cried. I could feel her tears making my shirt damp. When her breathing evened out, I pulled away slightly, and looked her in the eyes.

She looked back, with sadness written all over her face.

"Dahlia, I am so sorry for what you are going through. I know that you need to figure this out for yourself, but I will be there for you."

I gently kissed her on her lips. Then she took my face in her hands and kissed me again...and again. Then she leaned in and pressed her lips against mine. I felt her tongue push against my lips. I pulled away and asked if this is what she wanted. I did not want a repeat of three weeks ago.

She responded by kissing me again, her mouth open while our tongues danced together. The kiss became more and more passionate. She moved as closely to me as she could and when that was apparently not close enough, she climbed onto my lap as I sat on the stool, with one leg on either side of mine, and straddled me. I knew that she could feel my erection and I was certain I could feel the heat of her sex. I was finally holding her close to me and was no longer concerned about propriety or professionalism. I did not want this moment to end.

Her hands wondered across my back. Even through the material of my shirt her touch sent shivers through me. Her movement caused her skirt to hike up around her waist and saw a very small thong. I massaged the naked cheeks of her ass as her kisses became more fevered.

My body responded and I continued to get harder...much harder. She reached down and tugged at the hem of my shirt and pulled it over my head. Her fingers wandered across my back as she lightly raked her fingernails against my skin.

I reciprocated and pulled her top over her head. She was wearing a white bra with small lavender flowers. The tops of her breasts were literally pouring out from the inadequate garment. I knew, however, that this was an optical illusion. Her breasts were not small, but were smaller than the bra made them look.

I noticed that her bra fastened in front. I reached up and released the catch. As her breasts sprung forth, I could literally feel the heat. Her nipples were hard. I leaned forward and took her left nipple in my mouth and lightly sucked. She threw her head back and twisted to her left, presenting me with right breast. I continued to suck her tit as I massaged her ass, moving my hands to her asshole and pussy. She got off my lap, reached under her skirt, pulled down her panties and stepped out of them. My hands returned to her ass. My heart fluttered in my chest as I realized I had unencumbered access to her most intimate regions.

I brought my hands around her hips, so my thumbs met at what I expected to be her bush. I was surprised when, instead of hair, I encountered a smooth, totally shaved slit. Obviously she shaved since she changed clothes in my room.

My confusion and shock must have shown on my face.

"Surprise! Remember the first or second day you were here and I changed clothes in your room? I knew that you could see me. I had never done anything like that before. Then, a few weeks ago I asked you if you liked a hairy or shaved pussy. You told me you like your women to be smooth, so I shaved the next day. It has been smooth ever since. Do you approve?"

"Yes!!" I said. "I love it."

Then, abruptly, she took my face in her hands and looked deeply into my eyes. "David, I am sorry, but even though I shaved to make you happy, and as much as much as I want it, I am not sure I can make love to you; not while my husband and I are together. I don't expect you to understand, because I don't understand either."

"Dahlia, I want to make love to you, too, but only when the time is right. I can wait."

"No, you don't understand. I don't want to wait. Just because we cannot make love in the traditional way, doesn't mean I do not want to be with you. I want you to do everything my husband won't do for me. I want to do to you what my husband refuses to let me do for him. I want you to eat my pussy and I want to suck your cock without feeling that I am a whore. I want you to stick your finger up my ass. I want you to make me scream. I want you to shoot your load on my tits and into my mouth. Can you live with that until the time is right for use to make love?

I responded by picking her up, cradling her bare ass in my hands and setting her up on the counter. I sat on the stool with her naked, cleanly shaved pussy was at eye level.

"Okay", I said, "Tell me what I can do for you."

"Take your clothes off...and mine"

I stood up and removed my shorts, and then pulled her skirt over her head. For the first time, we were naked in each other's presence. Our hands began exploring the others body; slowly and gently, even the deeply private parts that, despite our desires, we had kept hidden from each other until now.

I kissed her deeply. The feel of her body against mine caused my heart to flutter and I knew she could feel my physical reaction. Then I lightly kissed her face, neck, chest and breasts. Her hands guided my head to where she wanted me to go; down to her tummy, then even lower where I lingered, enjoying the intimacy.

Her pussy was smooth with no stubble. If she shaved (and did not wax) she shaved this morning. This means she shaved after she got my call, or shaved before in anticipation of coming to see me. Either way, I viewed it as a gift to me: one to be treasured.

I lightly kissed her pussy and savored the sweet smell of vanilla combined with sexual excitement. I dipped my tongue and tasted the sweet juices that were just beginning to flow. Her breathing became more ragged as she enjoyed, maybe for the first time, having her pussy eaten by someone who both desired and respected her.

She pulled me away from the feast and brought my face to hers. We kissed: deeply, intensely, passionately and lovingly. She tasted her own juices off my tongue.

I lifted her up and she wrapped her legs around my waist. I carried her into the bedroom. My erect cock bobbed and smacked her open asshole with every step. As I sat her down on the edge of the bed and stood up, she put her arms around my waist, with her head level with my painfully erect cock. She kissed and fondled me. She took my cock into her mouth and slowly licked and sucked it.

She stopped for a second. "I have always wanted to do this, but Javier made me stop. He said I was acting like a whore."

She obviously was not very experienced at giving a blow job, but that was okay. I did not want it to lead to an orgasm. I just wanted to appreciate and enjoy this expression of affection and intimacy.

After a few minutes I could tell she was tiring, so I gently pushed her onto the bed and climbed beside her. I reassured her that I would do nothing that she did not want.

I rolled over, pulling her with me so she was on top of me. The feeling of the full weight of her naked body was like nothing I have ever felt before. As we kissed I had full access to caress her ass and gently pressed my forefinger against the rosebud of her asshole and fingered her pussy.

She slid down my body, kissing my chest, and belly and continued the blow job that I had interrupted moments before. She read my reactions and adjusted her actions to give me maximum pleasure. Although she was inexperienced, she learned very quickly. She brought me to the brink and then backed off. She fondled my balls. She licked the underside of my cock. She ran her fingernail from my asshole to the base of my scrotum, and then began to suck again.

Soon I felt the climax building. I thought of other things to try to delay the inevitable. I told her I was about to come. She moved up and pressed the tip of my cock against her tit as I shot my first rope. This action was almost like a cock-ring, making my ejaculation more intense. Cum squirted on her breasts, her neck and even on the side of her face. Jacking off was nothing like this, and as I savored my post-climatic high, I saw cum hanging from her tits and on her chest. It was a sensual sight that made me hard almost immediately.

She rolled over onto her back.

"Please eat my pussy."

She did not need to ask me twice. I got between her legs and spread them to make room for me to work what I hoped would be magic. I put my arms under her legs so I could elevate them and so I could reach her tits, which still glistened with semen.

Her outer lips were tight and hid her clitoral hood and other treasures. As I kissed her inner thighs, she pulled up her knees and spread them even more. Her pussy opened up like a magnificent flower, blooming only for me. I continued to kiss and nibble on her inner thighs, moving slowly around her outer lips to her mons. I avoided her inner lips and kissed her pelvis and down one leg. I repeated the process with the other leg.

Her body squirmed and she tried to position her pussy under my mouth. I continued the slow pace; I savored the moment I had dreamed about and masturbated over for several months. I reached up and found her left nipple. I twisted it gently between my thumb and forefinger to search for what made her feel good.

Finally, I indulged in the feast that lay before me. Her clitoris came out from behind its hood. It pulsated and begged to be touched. I knew that it was probably quite sensitive, so I blew on it and lightly flicked it gently with my tongue. The reaction was immediate and her actions urged me on. I became more aggressive and sucked and nibbled on her clit. Her passions rose and after several minutes, she let out a scream and clamped my face against her pussy as it gushed juices and as she came with a powerful orgasm.

Gradually, her grip on my head relaxed. I gently kissed her pussy and lapped her remaining juices. She convulsed a couple of times with a series of mini-orgasms. I finally crawled up and lay next to her. She rolled over and lay across me as my semen was drying on her chest and breasts.

"Oh my God, that was wonderful! I have never felt those sensations in my life." She kissed me as she fondled my cock and balls.

As we lay on the bed recovering from our games, we got a little silly. I continued the exploration of her body with my fingers; I discovered a ticklish spot just below her waist above her hips. She raked her finger nails across my chest and tweaked my nipples.

Then she looked at my alarm clock, jumped up and told me she had to go. Her husband would be home in an hour or so.

"God, can I take a shower? I can't go home smelling of sex, with your cum dripping off me, regardless of how great it was."

"Of course you can use the shower. Can I get in with you?"

"No, I really need to get going."

I was disappointed and a little hurt that our moment was over. I stayed in bed, still naked and waited for her to come out of the bathroom. When she walked out, her hair was still damp but she looked absolutely gorgeous. She leaned over and sucked my cock for about two seconds and said "I promise to come back and finish that before you head back to the States."

With that, she was out the door. I lay there, with my hands behind my head staring at the ceiling. I was right about one thing; Dahlia was definitely a passionate woman, but for a second time she jumped up and left as soon as we reached a new plateau. (I double checked to make sure she didn't leave a couple thousand Pesos on the dresser. That's kind of how I felt.)

It was certainly good sex, although I missed total intimacy of intercourse. If she was true to her word, then I would have to be satisfied with oral sex for an undetermined period. Would it be enough to quench the thirst I had for Dahlia? After one day with her, I wanted more...I wanted it all.

I have always been realistic, however, and understood that what I wanted was rarely what I got. If a blow job was all I could expect for the next few weeks or months... well, I guess I could live with that.

The overhead fan blew gently across my naked body. Dahlia's scent of vanilla mixed with musky passion still filled the room as I drifted off to sleep. As always, Dahlia entered my dreams. When I awoke at about 6:00, her scent was gone. When I got up and walked naked into the living room to find my shorts, I also found Dahlia's thong, lying exactly where she stepped out of it. I picked it up and brought it to my face. The delicate aroma filled my head as I tightly pressed her panties to my face and inhaled deeply.

My hand went to my cock, which was reacting to this discovery. It was already hard and dripping with pre-cum as I jacked off while standing in the middle of my living room. I shot my load on the cool ceramic tile, donned my shorts, put her thong in my pocket and cleaned up my little mess.

On Sunday, I did not see her because she had family obligations. I held a rare Sunday project meeting to hand out assignments for the next two weeks. (I had planned on holding the meeting on Saturday, but I was otherwise engaged.)

On Monday morning I woke up and took a shower. My flight to Houston was not until 1:30 in the afternoon, so I had a few hours before I had to leave. I put on my robe and was making breakfast when, at about 8:00, there was a knock on my door. I opened it to find Dahlia there, dressed for work. The day felt better already.