No Accounting For Chaos Ch. 01

His thumb pushed inside her rectum, he pushed his other hand completely into her. The two pressed against a spot she had never felt before and in spite of the violation she began to feel her orgasm blossom.

She let out a long guttural moan, crescendoing into small shouts. All of the tension of the past three months was fountaining into her brain as the sweetness of her orgasm began to peak: her mother's recent illness, her friend's break-up, the tensions at work...all flowed as images threatening to overcome her own coming together until they flowed out as a bright orange flower.

"Ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod..." she could only moan through her breathing. With each moan she involuntarily tried to push his invading thumb out her hole, but he held her firmly, leveraging her own muscles to stimulate her further. She pulsed, he transferred the movement to her clit and g-spot. Pulse. Push. Pulse. Push. "Shitshitshit..." she moaned, trying to calm down.

She imagined she was quite a site: her ass pushed firmly in the air, his fingers and thumb penetrating her, moaning as she rocked against him.

She could hear the juice squeezing from around his hand even as her orgasm peaked. He slowed down, careful to avoid her clit, letting her come down easy. As the spasms passed, he kept his hands still, waiting for her breathing to return to something like normal.

When she had quieted, he gently removed his hands and gestured for her to stay still.

"Thank you," she murmured what seemed like hours later but was probably less than a minute. She lifted her head to look at him cleaning his hands. He had a full erection, much to her excitement, and she wondered what she could do to repay him for one of the best orgasms of her life.

She looked up at his face to see a self-satisfied smile.

"We've only done your back," he said assuredly, and she practically fainted at the thought the night wasn't over.

She lay on the table catching her breath, luxuriating in the glow of her orgasm. Her mind reeled at the thought of him working on her front.

"Hold on a sec, Monty. I don't think I could take another climax like that."

She pulled up onto her elbows, letting the air cool her skin. She looked over at him. She had to see him. She imagined what he looked like, and realized she had been imagining him naked since the first day she bumped into him.

He wasn't a big man – about average height and weight, but he was well built. Broad shouldered and stocky. When they had collided in the coffee room she had been moving quickly, her arms filled with files, juggling a coffee cup, not paying attention and WHAM, he had just appeared. The force of the impact had almost knocked her on her butt and it hadn't phased him a bit. In fact, it was a miracle she hadn't spilled her coffee on him. As she thought back to it again, she realized he had actually grabbed her cup even as she was struggling to keep her balance.

He had been very gracious about it, even if had been completely her fault. With Samuelson there, she was particularly upset. Samuelson only worked with top customers, and though she'd seem him come and go over the past several months, she hadn't heard any office gossip about him. The lack of information made the accident an even greater concern.

As he had helped her recover, she took the opportunity to size him up. Something clicked when his hand held her wrist, he cracked that joke and she decided right in that moment she had to get to know him better.

He was the one who suggested they have lunch. He felt bad for having almost sent her to the hospital was the way he had put it. She didn't protest.

Lunch went by swiftly. He exuded a confidence without the usual bravado she had seen in the firm's more well-to-do individual clients. Old money, she decided. She'd seen it in school – parents of her friends – an easy casualness in expensive clothing. Still, he made her laugh and in spite of his confidence had a self-deprecation that made him...accessible.

"Did you want me to do your front?" His question brought her back. She had to see him, to hold him, to give back to him a small fraction of what he had just given her. She knew she couldn't match him in almost any way, but she felt confident her sexual abilities could at least offer him a small bit of thanks for the amazing orgasm she'd just had.

"I'd like to see you," she said quietly, lifting her hips and sliding the bolster out.

He took it from her as she sat up, rolling her feet off the edge of the table. She was completely naked in front of him, her nipples hard and pink, her pubic hair matted from sweat and cum. She made it clear from her expression that she wanted him to join her in her nakedness; that it wasn't quite fair to be the only one nude.

He set down the bolster and finished drying his hands on a towel. Looking down at her, her eyes were level with his chest, he crossed his arms, reached down and lifted the hem of the kaftan.

She watched it slide up past his knees until it stopped just before he exposed himself. She looked up and saw he was repositioning his grip on the material and by the time she looked back down he had uncovered his balls and erection. Her eyes lingered on his rod, pulsing and stiff, angled away from his thatch of hair. She wanted to hold him, put it in her mouth and make him cum. She resisted, waiting to see him completely strip.

As the material slid up further, she stared at the six-pack of muscles crossing his stomach, until he finally lifted it off in one smooth motion. Except for his pubes and underarms, he was almost completely hairless. His pecs were as well defined as the rest of him. She could almost feel the raw power of his muscles – just from the small gesture of letting the kaftan drop to the floor. The sinews in his legs, the bands of muscles in his arms and shoulders. No wonder he could keep up the pace massaging her!

She leaned forward a little, letting her fingers lightly cup his balls. His sac was a little wrinkled even as it was tight, his cock quivered as she fondled him.

She pulled on him slightly, hinting he should come closer to her. He complied, letting her put her hand on his left ass cheek. She squeezed it gently, feeling the muscles in his glutes, and then let her hand slide down to the crease at his thigh. She slid it up and down, feeling the smooth skin and tiny hairs. She moved her fingers into the crease of his cheeks, pulling them apart a little. She hoped the cool air on his asshole would give him some ideas of where she might go.

She didn't expect to go there, but at this point all was fair game. She felt his cock twitch and she smiled a little, squeezing his balls gently with her right hand.

"I have to warn you," he said gently...

...oh no, he's going to tell me he has AIDS, or that he's gay, or ...

..."I haven't ejaculated in quite awhile, and if I don't tonight, I don't want you to think it has anything to do with you."

She brought her left hand together with her right, letting her fingers trace the veins on the underside of his shaft. She cupped her palm on top of his purple head, surprised at how dry it was. She would have expected some semen to leak out.

She raised an eyebrow and looked up at him. He put his hands gently on her head and stroked her ears, his face excited but his eyes strangely calm.

"How long has it been since your last orgasm?" She smiled, pretending he was in confession.

"It's not that," he stroked her hair, "it's that I don't come when I climax. I would love it if you kept that up; it feels great."

She continued stroking him, cradling his balls, feeling the crinkly skin there move under her fingers. Her left hand gently squeezed his cock just below the head and she could feel him pulse, the steady beat of his heart and the intermittent spasm as his excitement overcame his control.

What was he talking about?If she hadn't just had practically the best sex in her entire life a few minutes ago, she'd think he was seriously bent.

She bent forward and lightly kissed the top of his swollen head, letting her tongue poke at his hole. There was a very faint taste of salt, more like sweat then sperm, and another faint smell – an aromatic spice like cinnamon. She pushed her lips over the glans and held him there, letting her tongue brush across the sensitive skin.

The effect on him was exactly as she expected. His prick swelled in her right hand and he let out a small moan. His hands rested on her shoulders, gently squeezing her in rhythm to her tongue hitting 12 o'clock. Around his head went her tongue, squeeze went his hands. Around. Squeeze.

She kept it up a few more cycles, knowing she was pushing into irritating territory, but it felt good: his smooth tight skin against her tongue. She wanted to eat him, take him in completely. She wanted to suck the cum out of him, taste him.

She pushed down onto his shaft as far as she could without gagging. Dinner was still only a few minutes in the past and she wanted dessert – him – not lose the great meal he had prepared. His head pushed at the top of her throat and she stopped, letting her tongue push up against the underside of his shaft.

His cock wasn't huge in any dimension, but it was rock hard. With the additional stimulation she had been giving him, it had swelled a little further, stretching the skin all along its length. Although she was tempted to push it down her throat (she had learned a couple of tricks in college, but hadn't felt the desire even with her ex to revisit them), his cock was poking up at such an angle that she couldn't get her face in between it and his stomach. She didn't want to pull down on it – it felt like she'd break it, and that would certainly ruin the mood.

His moaning and heavy breathing boosted her confidence. She stroked what remained exposed of his shaft with the tips of her fingers, scratching her nails lightly down to his sac and back up. As her fingers met her lips, she moved them in unison with her mouth back up his cock until she let it pop out of her lips. Theplopof air mixed with his exclamation.

She didn't hesitate and slipped her mouth back down. His hands tightened on her shoulders, and she knew he must be close.Hasn't come in 'awhile' eh? We'll see about that.She cradled his balls as she bottomed out with her mouth, swirling her tongue as many ways as she could manage.

The squeezing of his hands became more intense, his balls curled up in his sac and she could feel his head swelling.It's coming,her pride swelling with his member,I'll get him to 'ejaculate' or else.

As the thought entered her head, she felt him twitching, from the top of his thighs up into his cock and then into his abdomen. He spasmed, rigid in place, and she prepared herself for the flood of jism that she could feel erupting from his core.

And then it was over. He was panting and moaning, and his hands were busy stroking her face, her shoulders and down to her breasts, but not a single drop of come left his still stiff prick. She continued to wash his shaft with her tongue, loving the feeling of it in her mouth, but her confusion was mounting. After a few heartbeats she slowly pulled off him, leaving her hands on his scrotum to maintain the intimacy she had hoped to pull from him and had failed.

"That was fantastic, Marcie," he sighed, apparently sincere.

"Seriously?" She looked up at him wondering if he was just patronizing her.

"I told you. I don't ejaculate when I orgasm. Well...it's more complicated than that. It's kind of back to that spiritual thing..." He stroked her face, quiet.

"Anyway, I really enjoyed that. Immensely." He stroked her jaw, running his thumb on her lips. She could smell herself on him and it made her twitch a little, thinking about what he had done to her just minutes before. Her "gift' seemed to pale in comparison. "It's been way too long."

It's not way too long, but it sure is way too hard.His erection hadn't shrunk a bit and she began to think he might be on Viagra. "Are you...are you taking something?" She asked tentatively.

He let out a small laugh and sat on the table next to her, putting one arm around her shoulders and letting his other hand drift across her nipples. He toyed with them for a heartbeat, focusing on her breasts before assuring her that he wasn't 'on anything.'

"Are you familiar with Tantric practices?" He asked as he continued to stimulate her nipples.

She was unfamiliar with the term, but more importantly, she was distracted by his fingers. Each time he touched her, she felt pulses of electricity flowing out across her breasts. She'd never felt anything like it – again a feeling of slight discomfort combined with an intense sexual stimulation. She could feel herself getting moist again.

"No," she breathed heavily. "It sounds Indian."

He kissed the side of her neck softly, moving his hands across her breasts and down to her open slit. She moaned as he pushed lightly on her clit, feeling it swell at his touch even as her building moisture made her self-conscious. He opened her legs slightly, his tongue playing with her ears.

She reached down to hold onto his erection. Still solid. She gripped it lightly, running her thumb up the underside.Weird. Doesn't ejaculate. Really?

His rhythm stopped for a heartbeat and she stopped. A phone rang in the house. She hadn't heard it at first, but now it was clear it had distracted him.

"Do you have to get that?" She continued to stroke him, feeling the softness of the skin over the rigidity of the shaft. So hard.

"Yes. I'm sorry." He disengaged from her, his fingers trailing across her nipples as he slipped off the table.

She watched him as he walked away, his muscles rippling, his ass as tight as she imagined it. When he turned the corner she giggled a little at the sight of his cock jutting out, not having sagged even a little.

She couldn't hear the conversation, just his voice. It sounded like business. As she sat there, naked, sweaty and oiled up, her asshole felt squishy and she needed to pee. She walked into the hallway toward the bathroom and heard him more clearly.

"I'm in the middle of something right now. No, I'm not sure when I'll be free. Can't this wait until the weekend? Really. Tonight...."

She found the open door and sat on the toilet, his conversation lost to her. As she eliminated the wonderful wine she'd had not but an hour beforewas it only an hour,she yawned. Deeply.Shit, I've got to get home. If he comes back and touches me, I'll know I'll want to stay, but I can't. I shouldn't. Too fast.

She finished up and noticed again how oily her ass was. It was a new sensation and she rolled the feeling over in her mind – she had let him finger fuck her ass.That's new.Returning to the massage room, she could tell his conversation was ending.

She picked up her underwear and steeled her resolve.Got to go. He'll call me. I'm sure of it. Besides, it sounds like he has to take care of business.By the time he returned, his cock still hard, her eyes darted back to his face, she was practically dressed.

"You don't have to go," he lifted the kaftan to put it on.

"No. I do. Please, could you keep it off until I leave? I can't get enough of your body." She hoped he enjoyed her taking the initiative. She enjoyed taking the initiative. Fuck him if he doesn't.Definitely getting tired.

He smiled and poked his erection at her, slapping her thigh with it. She swatted at it and he embraced her, planting his lips onto hers. It was the first deep kiss he'd given her since they'd met - a long deep, penetrating kiss that took her breath away. She could feel herself melting in his arms, her pussy moistening again.Must. Stop. Must get home.She lifted her hands to push on his chest, feeling his nipples hard against her palms.God this great. Should go. Should stay.

He broke the embrace, backing away slightly so her hands dropped. She felt for his cock and gave it a squeeze.

"Really. I do. It's a work night, and I have to get into the office early. I can't tell you how wonderful this night has been. I'm a little dazed from it, actually. You'll call me, yeah?" She swore silently to herself for being so pushy, looked around the room for anything she'd missed, realized she didn't have her purse and looked up at him.

"Tomorrow night too soon? You shouldn't go too long without getting your front massaged." He looked at her like she was stripped bare and he was the one dressed. She loved that look.

"Come on," she said, pulling on his cock. "Help me find my things."

He did call her. The next day, thanking her for a wonderful evening. And he kept calling her. First a play, then a dinner, and another, until weeks passed and she seemed to be spending her every free hour with him. It was a dream. It was a little crazy.