Past, Present and Future Ch. 04

"That's better!"

I leaned against him, my head on his shoulder, smiled as his hand again found my boob. I looked down at his beautiful cock, wondered what it would feel like have one.

My hand slid over his thigh, fingers circled his sac and gripped his length. It was warm under my fingers, hard and expectant. I decided to follow his example, take things slowly. I let my hand merely drift lightly along his shaft, cup and roll over his swollen mushroom, slide gently back down his length, sweep his wrinkled sac, tickle behind it.

And again. Slowly. Softly. We had the whole afternoon, I thought. There was no need to rush things. If Tony wanted more, he would let me know.

His hand slid off my breast, swept gently over my tummy, began to stroke my inner thighs. He was good at this, very good. I shivered in pleasure, but tried not to let that change my slow teasing of his cock and balls. Leisurely, gently was the order of the day.

At least I had thought it was. I gasped a little as an expert finger flowed over my slippery lower lips. His 'slowly and gently' could produce amazing, almost instantaneous results in my Mom's little girl. It got worse -- better -- when his other arm proved long enough to reach my other breast.

I could only reach him with one hand and decided to change strokes. I gripped the bottom of his shaft with my thumb and fingers, softly dragged his skin up his length, my hand flowing off his head before starting again at his base. Up and off, up and off, slowly, softly.

He tensed a little, inhaled deeply and I smiled.

Otherwise, both of us sat quite still, as if we were merely enjoying an afternoon on a public park bench. Neither of us saw any reason to speak.

Tony's one finger started to stroke deeper between my lips, up, barely missing my clit, then moved down to start again. Hand on my pussy, hand on my boob, I felt a growing heat inside me. I took a deep, deep breath, let it out a bit raggedly, then another.

I continued the slow, gentle bottom-to-top sweep of his cock, but started to paused each time, circling his turgid rim with my thumb.

I looked up at him. His eyes were closed, a faint smile on his lips. His chest rose and fell slowly, but very deeply.

There was a slipperiness on his slit now, almost matching the slipperiness between my legs. My hand halted, my fingers squeezing his shaft as my thumb swirled the sticky wetness over and around his helmet, almost purple with arousal. I could sense Tony's desire rising with each circle of my thumb.

I moaned a little as his finger probed my entrance, withdrew. I was just on the brink, hovering, so very, very ready...

I moaned again as his hands suddenly left my body, one catching my wrist to pull my hand away from him.

"Tony?" I whispered.

"Patience, Stephanie. Relax. Enjoy the view." He gave me a gentle hug. He shifted, poured some water into a glass, shared it with me.

My body was frustrated beyond belief, but I knew how good he was at this. I snickered soon after when his manhood twitched slightly. I ran one finger lightly down its length, laughed as it jerked again. I put my hand back on his hip.

"Have I mentioned how beautiful you are today, Stephanie? How utterly desirable you are? How good it feels for a man to have somebody this delightful with him?"

I ran my finger over his cockhead.

"I sort of guessed."

I grasped his whole plum, squeezed it. "But it's nice to be told."

He laughed; his hands returning to their leisurely teasing and I found that the delay had made me want his touch, want him  more.

I closed my eyes as his hands unhurriedly stimulated my nipples, my pussy, my legs.

My mind.

Above all, I was finding, Tony knew how to work my mind to take me higher than I'd ever been before, then keep me hanging there for what seemed like forever before finally releasing me into my blazing passion.

As my body was learning to be more responsive to him, my mind was also learning that his strong male presence only strengthened my femininity, never diminished or trivialized it. His masculinity was not a challenge to me or my identity; it helped, it pushed, it supported.

It fed.

I moaned softly as a gentle finger found my clit, circled it at the same time that his other hand teased first one nipple, then the other.

I began to pull the soft skin of his cock back and forth over his oaken core. His breathing was deeper now; his nostrils swollen. Even his flat male nipples had become a bit erect.

The flame within me soared, higher, closer to erupting into an open blaze. I started pumping him harder now, then groaned as his hands again pulled away from me, pulled my hand off his sex. I was almost quivering in frustration, half a breath from the orgasm he'd been orchestrating.

His hand came to my jaw, turned my head over and up to face his. His lips crossed mine, his tongue tip swept between mine. He pulled me in, his tongue probing, needy, intent. I met him with my tongue, equally needy, equally hungry.

He was smiling when he broke the kiss. I knew that smile, loved it almost as much as him.

"How's Stephanie?" His voice was husky.

"About to jump you, Tony. This is delicious, deliciously cruel, deliciously wonderful."

I gave a small yelp as his thumb and forefinger pinched a nipple gently.

"Do you have any idea of how close I am, Tony?"

He smiled, looked down to his own lap where his abandoned organ swayed, engorged, red with delayed lust.

"I think so." He again pulled me into another deep, loving kiss. My mind whirled. Had this been one of my previous boyfriends, he would have lost it by now.

Tony was a man and I knew how lucky I was for it.

I had no idea of time, but the shadows outside had shifted significantly and he was still starting, stopping, driving me closer and closer, holding me there. I was doing my best to follow his example, lightly teasing his cock, balls, nipples, skin. I could smell his need on the soft breezes in the old barn.

His touch suddenly became stronger, more focussed. A long finger entered me, then a second. They twisted, turned, pulled against my walls. I felt a surge inside me, sped up my pumping, harder, faster. Tony's body beside me on the sofa went rigid, his cock began to jerk and shudder in my hand. Gouts of his essence jetted from him.

His fingers gave a last pull on my G-spot and I was launched into my own orgasm, pounding, dark, harder than I could ever remember. My applauding nipples were echoing my clit's cheers. Waves of ecstasy erupted, echoed, reverberated through every part of my body. It felt like my toenails  were having an orgasm.

Slowly, gradually, it faded.

For the first time since we'd first made love, Tony had fallen asleep on me. Well, I could hardly blame him. I smiled softly as I cleaned off his chest and tummy with a napkin, then snuggled against his chest for my own happy nap.

I could get used to this.

+

I was surprised at how much progress Marcy had made on her painting. She'd actually set it aside, maybe to dry or something, and had started work on a second.

We'd been longer than I thought, up in the barn.

She'd also shifted to into the shade of the gazebo. It was a hot sun.

"Hi," she said.

I could see it on her face -- she knew.

"Hi, yourself," Tony replied casually, ignoring her expression. "You've got a lot done!"

"Well, thanks for pushing me to get back to it. I think this is finally working out for me."

She'd kept her wristwatch on, glanced at it now. "But it's after four. She pointed to the new painting. "I won't be able to finish either of these today."

She looked up at Tony.

"May I come back tomorrow, please? This is so nice."

Tony looked at me. I nodded.

"It'd work, Tony. Marcy can drive me home tomorrow."

Tony didn't answer. He looked at me, smiled, touched my cheek with a gentle finger. He stepped up to look at the new painting, spent some time inspecting it. His examination shifted from painting to artist. He began to circle Marcy, his eyes sweeping over her boobs, flat belly, pert bum, perfect legs. Her eyes opened in surprise at first, realized that this was the normal here and relaxed. Tony took his time.

He stepped back to stand beside me, took my hand in his.

"Of course, Marcy. We'll see you tomorrow." His smile was as charming as could be.

And that was that; Marcy was gone minutes later, leaving paints and paintings behind.

He turned to face me, used both hands to turn my face towards his. His grey eyes were soft now, gentle.

"Are you still OK with this, Stephanie?" I could hear genuine care in his voice, thought I could sense affection, hoped it included at least some love.

I smiled up at him, nodded a little.

"I think so. Thank you for being gentle with her, Tony."

He did have a nice smile.

+

I worked on my school stuff, did some reading, spent some more time just sunning. I had become accustomed to nudity. It felt right, something I'd been made for. That Tony was normally dressed was also just... normal. How else could it be?

In an hour or two, Tony was ready to make dinner. He called me in, waved towards my stool in the kitchen.

"Anything in particular you'd like to hear?"

"Your call."

I thought, began Brahms 4th Symphony. I've always found the slowly falling notes expressive.

"So sad!" Tony remarked.

OK, something else. I started into the Brahms Intermezzo I liked so much and his face brightened. He chopped, sliced, stirred, his head weaving to the music.

He put the pan into the oven. "Keep playing," he said, stepping towards me.

There was none of his cool detachment of our first evening. I could feel his eyes on every part of my body and face. Only once did he touch me; his hand came up to sweep my hair off my face. He continued to circle me, smiling, appreciative of my music and of my appearance. I was surprised at how content it made me feel, being treasured like that.

When I finished the piece, he led me outside onto the deck, under the shade of the gazebo. He stood behind me, his arms again around my waist. The view was as gently perfect as ever.

"Thank you for that, Stephanie. You are as lovely to listen to as you are to watch."

We stood there, watching clouds drift by, for what seemed a long time. A timer rang inside.

"I hope you like sole," he said.

Silly question. Tony, I had learned, could turn running shoes into a gourmet treat.

"How's Marcy doing financially?" he asked over dinner.

I stared at him. He caught my look, chuckled.

"No, Stephanie, not that. I meant that I rather like her painting so far. Do you think she would sell it to me when it's done?"

"I can ask."

"No, don't bother. I'll ask her myself tomorrow."

+

We watched the sunset after doing the dishes. It was peaceful, warm, a quiet time, a good time for one's soul. Birds were singing in the far distance. Tony's hands slowly and gently swept over the skin of my stomach and hip. I leaned against him, played with his hair with my hand. I felt my nipples grow hard again, felt his breathing change. As the sun dipped below the horizon, his strong arms swept under me. A slight heave and I was in his arms, through the door and down the hall to his bedroom.

I watched him undress from where I was on the bed. I shifted to watch him better, lying on my tummy, my chin resting on my hands.

He finished stripping off his clothes. I smiled, felt my insides quiver to see the proud manhood pointing at me.

I wanted it.

He went to kneel beside me on the bed; I pushed him back.

"I'd like to try something new, Tony. Please?"

I tried to smile. I'd thought of myself as quite daring for having just thought of this, but suddenly felt quite shy. Tony and I had made love in so many different ways, in so many different positions, yet this was, indeed, another big step for me. Maybe he'd disapprove of my suggesting...

He stood by the bed, looking down at me, his eyebrows up in question. I leaned my head back further.

"There's something men are supposed to like, Tony. If it would please you, I'd like to try. I've been practising, you see."

I smiled up at him.

I rolled over onto my back, shuffled towards him so that my head hung off the edge of the bed. I saw the understanding in his eyes, the sudden longing.

I had indeed been practising, trying to overcome my gag reflex. Using the soft handle of my toothbrush, I'd been probing the back of my throat in the residence bathroom to get used to being poked there. It hadn't been easy at first, but I thought I was ready to try it for real, if Tony would be patient.

I giggled at the sight of the underside of his manhood, his dangling sac right in front of my nose. It was a view of Tony I'd not seen before. Reaching out, I bought a hand up, caught his cock and pulled him gently towards me. I slid my hand up and over it, held it by its base.

"Let me guide you, at least at first?" I whispered. "Please?"

He nodded, a gentle smile on his face. "Of course, Stephanie. But you don't have to do this..."

I smiled up at him. "I know, but I want to try it — for you. Is that OK?"

He merely nodded again.

I shifted my grip, fingers circling his scrotum, pulled him towards my mouth. His tip probed me gently and I opened for him, licked my lips and covered my teeth with them.

I shifted my grip again, took him by the hips, pulled gently. Obediently, he moved forward a little, paused when my hands did. I swept around his cockhead with the tip of my tongue, pulled on his hips again.

Slowly, taking guidance from my hands, Tony moved deeper into my mouth. I felt the softest touch at the back of my throat, paused, deliberately relaxed, not just my throat, but my whole body. I could do this.

I took a deep breath, pulled slightly on his hips again. There was a fleeting hint of gagging and then Tony's crown was into me and all was fine. I adjusted my head angle, pulled on his hips and he was another inch down my throat.

I found I couldn't breathe. I was expecting that, pushed back slightly on his hips. He pulled out slightly and I could breathe through my nose. I took another breath and pulled again on his hips; in a few seconds, his length was fully inside me, his wrinkled sac touching the tip of my nose. I pushed back and Tony slid away. Before he quite left my throat, able to breathe again, I took another breath, felt my nose fill with his male scent. Despite my full mouth, I smiled. I liked the way he smelled.

Another deep breath and I pulled him back in, this time rather less slowly. His cock filled my throat. Again I pushed on his hips and again he pulled back. I let him pull all the way back, caught his wet shaft with my hand as his head left my mouth. I began to pump it, drag its soft skin up and down over its solid core, swirled the soft triangle under its head with my thumb. I smiled up at him around it.

"How's that, Tony? Is it good?"

"Very good, Stephanie." There was indeed a look of delight on his face. "But that's enough..."

He was a considerate lover.

"Nope." This was my man and I wanted this.

I pulled him back into my mouth, caught his hips with my hands and pulled him back into my throat. I guided him in and out several times, then moved my hands to catch the swollen balls directly in front of my eyes, fondled them, tickled behind them with my fingertips.

Very gently, Tony slid in and out of me, pausing to let me breathe every few strokes. His hands swept over my breasts, caught my nipples and the pleasure flowed both ways.

I could feel tension building in the muscles of his thighs and stomach. When he pulled back the next time, I pulled loose, smiled up at him. "Give me a moment, dear."

I took two or three deep breaths, opened my mouth again and felt his cock slide slowly into me until his sac was again touching my nose. I had read of something else, something to add, something additional for his pleasure.

I began humming. I could feel the vibrations in my throat; oddly different than normal. I rocked my head just a little, hummed louder. Oddly enough for a music student, I could suddenly think of no tune. My mind darted this way and that, drew a total blank then seized on...

It was all I could remember; Tony would have to settle for Frère Jacques.  I began humming it, softly at first, then harder.

Tony chuckled, began stroking into me again, still very carefully, very gently, but faster, more confidently. His hands drifted over my boobs, squeezing, playing, loving.

His hands clasped my head, hard. His body rigid, I could feel waves of bliss rippling through his stiffness, over my lips, along my tongue. I felt his pleasure emptying deep into my throat.

Some seconds later, I was running short of breath. A push on his hips and I felt his length sliding out of me now, back out over my lips.

I swallowed, took a deep breath, kissed the wet tip just in front of my face, rolled over on my tummy and smiled up at him. As I watched, one last drop oozed from his tip. I reached up with one hand, gently spread it around his plum with a fingertip. I giggled when it twitched under my finger.

Tony looked almost dazed. I grinned.

"I think you liked that."

Wordless, he sat heavily on the bed beside me.

I leaned against him, put my head on his shoulder, an arm around his waist in a loving hug. I could wait; he wasn't going anywhere. It was a minute or two before he spoke.

"You say that was the first time you've done that?" His voice was very soft.

"Yes. I learned how for you, Tony."

He took a deep breath, a soft grin on his face now.

"Heaven help an old man's heart when you get practised, girl," he chuckled. This time, his hands held my head in place while he gently kissed my lips.

He rose and, naked too, went out into the kitchen, returning with white wine. I found that I was surprisingly thirsty.

We lay on the bed together, cuddling, a gentle, soft time.

"Thank you, Stephanie. That was remarkable. How are you doing?"

I giggled. "Pretty good. You've led me down all kinds of strange paths, Mr. diRossi. But you know what? I kind of liked it. I mean, I'm never going to have an orgasm that way, but I do very much like pleasing you, Tony. So it was fun. Does that make sense?"

He chuckled softly. His hand took my wine glass, set it beside his on the side table.

"Very much so," he said. With that, his strong arms slid under my body, lifted me up, turned me completely around and sat me down on his face.

"Tony! Your beard tickles!"

He lifted me up, his voice slightly muffled.

"Does it? Too bad." He released me to fall back on him, his hands pulling down on my thighs as his lips began nibbling on my labia. I felt the old familiar Tony fire again.

I tried to turn, to reach his organ, but his hands held me firmly in place. I fell half-forward, leaning on my hands. I gave a low moan as his tongue swept along my lips, dipped inside my opening, carried on, only to return again and again.

My nipples were hard as bullets. I sat up, seized my breasts in my hands, played with them, received a telegram of of total approval from my clit. I gasped as his tongue found it, swirled around it, lapped it with increasing speed.

"Tony!" I shrieked, trying to wiggle away from his remorseless stimulation. My arousal soared higher and higher with each stab of his tongue, ever nip of his loving lips on my pearl.

I felt pleasure burst inside me. I pinched my nipples and was off in a whirling explosion of ecstasy, booming through me and around me, my heart pounding.

Slowly, slowly now, Tony continued to lick and nibble, prolonging and extending the orgasm in echoes and rebursting joy. Eventually, his grip on my legs eased and he lowered me to the mattress, spooning me from behind, his strong hands gently stroking and caressing my body and head, over and over.