Past, Present and Future Ch. 05

I'd printed it and framed it myself. "That's a nice one, dear," the middle-aged clerk at the local framing shop had smiled when I'd taken a pre-made frame to the checkout desk. "Are you sure you don't want us to mount your photo for you? Our rates are quite reasonable."

She hadn't understood why I'd blushed that way. There was no way I could have risked letting a stranger see that photo.

Then I noticed her smile had changed, just slightly. Maybe she did understand. Maybe she'd had really good times in her life, too, maybe there'd been a special photo of her for a special lover.

Even now, having looked it many times, I still was amazed at how sensual I looked, how utterly desirable. My nipples tightened just a little, both at the memory of his lovemaking that day and now at seeing the subtle shifting in the fabric of his swimming trunks as he looked at the picture.

Bulls-eye!

"It's beautiful!" he breathed. His eyes could be cold, hard as flint; now they were almost misty. "Nothing could have pleased me more, Stephanie. Thank you."

He examined the photo again, ran his fingertip over it, then leaned over and, kissed me.

"I'll have to think of a good place to hang it."

I'd thought about presents, gratitude and our agreement. I'd thought about it a lot. It was, I hoped, time to seal this relationship in amber.

I took a deep breath, tried to work up my courage. I looked at the diamond on the ring he had given me. It served not only as a physical token of our agreement, but also -- so typical of the thoughtful nature of the man -- allowed me to publicly pretend to be his fiancée vice merely his sugar-baby.

"As to that, Tony, I'd thought of something else to go with that picture," I said gently. I put my hand on his arm, squeezed tenderly. He turned from the picture, looked at me.

My gaze shifted to the bare form of Marcy in front of us. I watched her bite her lower lip in concentration as she painted. Tony's eyes followed mine.

"How about a hall pass?" I said softly.

His head snapped over to stare me in the eyes. His eyes were with surprise.

"Are you joking, Stephanie?"

"I would never joke about something like that, Tony." I kept my eyes on Marcy, tried not to be jealous, tried not to scream at myself for having made that offer.

She certainly was beautiful. Petite, but with a striking figure, Marcy had endless long hair, dark eyes with amazing lashes, a smile to die for. Limber, athletic and spunky, Marcy turned heads, even when she wasn't in her purple-and-white cheerleader uniform.

I knew any man would want her.

"Stephanie..."

I cut him off.

"Tony, despite your stern demeanour, you are, I think, a man who could have half the woman on campus eating out of your hand if you ever smiled at them.

"You didn't buy me, Tony, but you did buy some things. One of them is my loyalty."

"Steph..."

I again cut him off, put my finger on his lips. "My turn, Mr. diRossi."

"Loyalty means different things to men and women, Tony."

I stroked his cheek with my hand. "Yes, in this case, it means fidelity, faithfulness, that I'm going to keep my panties on when you're not around, but it also means that, so long as I wear this ring," I held up my left hand, "you get my support."

"Support?"

"In whatever pleases you, dear. Our deal was that I would do whatever pleases you until either one of us decides it's time for me to go home."

He stared at me.

I nodded towards the delectable figure in front of us.

"Tony, we women can't help being jealous; it's the standard factory setting. But possessive women can be just awful, Tony, and you don't deserve that. So, here's where loyalty kicks in, for me at least, so long as our agreement stands."

I squeezed his arm, again nodded towards Marcy.

"Tonybabe, you're a force of nature and there'll always be a pretty girl around somewhere if you let her. So, all I ask is that you don't try to hide it, don't try to keep it a secret from me."

I leaned over, laid my head on his shoulder.

Marcy, sensing movement, turned to look at us. She smiled, turned back to her work.

"I'm not agreeing to take part, Tony," I said. "I'm a boy girl, not a girl girl. But I won't try to stop you and I won't ever bitch at you or nag you for that. I promise. Just don't lie to me, please."

I'd practised those words, trying to get them right. I still wasn't entirely sure, but they felt like what I was feeling in my heart. There was, I thought, room to share.

I saw his eyes change, saw a warmth in them and felt my own heart melt at the sight.

He leaned down, kissed my lips tenderly.

"You really mean that, don't you?"

"Of course."

"You're an amazing woman, Stephanie," he said. "I'm very lucky to have you."

"I know," I smiled, "but it cuts both ways."

Marcy stretched a little, trying to relieve a stiff neck perhaps. The movement threw her breasts forward, long pink nipples prominent. She rolled her shoulders and her boobs swayed in the warm sunlight.

"For instance, don't try to pretend you didn't notice that," I snickered.

Laughing, Tony hugged me. "No," he said. "I couldn't possible pretend that."

Marcy turned towards the sound of his chuckle. I smiled at her and she went back to her painting, oblivious to the topic under discussion.

"She's delicious, Tony. I know that. And I can understand that men have a different... viewpoint about such things."

He was silent.

"Would you like me to go inside now, Tony?" I asked softly.

He wasn't the only one who could drop a bombshell.

Silly as it sounds, the silence that followed was so deep that it almost echoed.

"No." His voice was low, gentle. His hand reached over, clasped mine.

"Stephanie..."

There was a new tone in his voice, something I'd never heard before. I turned to him. His eyes darted towards Marcy for instant and I thought again for a moment he was going to take me up on my offer. I held his hand in mine, took a deep breath.

I'd meant it, after all, but that didn't mean I was looking forward to it.

He looked at his watch. Late afternoon.

"Marcy." His call to her was clear, not particularly loud.

Marcy again turned and looked at us. Seeing the look on Tony's face, her own eyes opened very wide, as if she had just stumbled into an age-old mystery.

"I'll take Stephanie into town with me tomorrow morning in time for her first class. You needn't wait."

Tony was a gentleman. His dismissals were always soft, polite, kind.

Even so, I could see in her slight, almost-hidden impish smile her absolute certainty of where my afternoon was headed.

.

No sooner had the sound of her car started to fade than Tony had me in his arms, his lips on mine, almost ferocious in his urgency.

A moment later, still locked in a passionate kiss, he plucked me from my chair. As he carried me inside, I could sense his unwillingness to take the time for the two dozen steps to his bedroom.

Instead, he lowered me onto my back on the heavy kitchen table, my bum almost on the edge.

I understood the look in his eyes now. What was that high school book - The Call of the Wild?  That phrase suddenly took on a new meaning. Primeval lust bayed in the forest and I felt my body answer the call; I was suddenly ready, my breasts heavy, nipples hard as bullets, my lower lips swelling, a surge of wetness on them. I watched him tear off his clothes, buttons flying in his eagerness.

There was none of the measured, careful, gentle loving Tony had gifted me with before. This was not love or tenderness. My offer had clearly unleashed something deep within him. His cock found my opening and he slid his full length into me without a moment's hesitation.

A more modern table would have shattered under the fury of his lunges. This one was old, heavy, handcrafted generations ago when styles were solid and good hardwood cheap. He stood between my legs, holding my thighs in his hands as his hips hammered his length into me. I could hear the table legs squeal on the slate floor as his pounding shifted the table, saw a coffee cup skid, topple over the edge, heard it break in some far distance.

Not thinking of me or my pleasure now, his eyes were shut, total concentration on his face, driving him towards his own orgasm, raw desire ruling his very being.

For half a second, I wondered if I should be afraid, discarded the thought the next moment. I would need never fear Tony. He'd been unfailingly kind, gentle, considerate. He'd pleased me so often, showed me undiscovered joys, taken me to heights I'd never imagined. He'd never taken anything I hadn't been willing to give.

So, if this was what he needed, well, I was his woman. It was my turn now, time to focus on his  needs for a change.

Especially as I was the one who'd lit this particular fuse. That was something else.

The room echoed with a flat slapping sound each time our bodies collided. My breasts shimmied with each impact of his hips, wobbling back and forth like jelly. Tony's hands clutched my legs as he drove into me, long fingers sinking into my flesh, holding my body in place for his lunges.

I felt a weight growing within me. My pussy was stretched by his engorged rim, caressed by his plunging shaft; they fed a white-hot fire, growing hotter and brighter with each thrust. I heard a moan escape my lips and slid my hand between us, found my button with a fingertip, rolled it in time with his driving cock.

Tony grunted deep in his chest, froze, his manhood throbbing and jerking inside me. I pressed harder on my pearl and felt time stop. Blazing waves of ecstasy flowed through my body, surged back and forth between my boobs and my pussy.

Tony fell across me, panting hard, his weight a happy, welcome burden. My orgasm slowly died, the odd spark bursting loose from the embers.

Today it was Stephanie leading an exhausted Tony to bed instead of the other way around. I tucked him into bed, had a quick shower, did a couple of dishes. Rummaging through the refrigerator, I put together a small snack for myself, left its twin on the table for Tony when he woke up.

I smiled the whole time.

He was still asleep when I slid into be next to him.

+

I woke spooning behind him. The sun had gone down and it was pitch-black; I had no idea of the time.

I could hear his breathing in the darkness, feel it in his body -- awake now. I put my hand to his cheek. He rolled to lie on his back and I shifted, put my head on his shoulder.

"How's my guy?" I whispered.

He was silent. His hand came up, stroked my face.

"Stephanie," he started," I'm sorry..."

"Don't be silly, Tony. You're a man, not a plaster saint. It was funny - and it was fun, too."

I giggled, hugged him. "You're full of surprises, Tony."

His silence spoke to me. I guessed what he was thinking.

"You want her, don't you?" I think I kept the tremor out of my voice.

"That's hardly a fair question, Stephanie." He shifted in the darkness; I could feel his breath on my face. "Do you think me that shallow?"

I traced his jawline with my fingers, felt the stubble on his cheek above his beard.

"It's not a question of 'shallow', Tony. Give me some credit, dear."

I took a deep breath, hugged him again, let my fingers trail through his chest hair.

"I have nothing to fear from Marcy," I said, hoping it was true.

"Stephanie..."

"Give me a moment, Tony. I know where I stand in your life and I can, I hope, depend on that much."

I took a deep, deep breath, tied the bungee cord about my ankles, felt for the edge and leapt...

"I don't expect you to say you love me, Tony."

His head rose in protest. My hand pressed him down gently.

"It's OK, Tony. Truly it is. You can, if you wish, tell me you love me another time, but not tonight. When you do — if you do — I'll believe you, I promise. But tonight is not about love.

"Women want to be the only one in a man's life and, yes, I do. But I also know that that's not how men think, not how they're programmed. Love and desire are two separate things for a man."

"Stephanie..."

"If you open your lips again, Tony, let it be either to kiss me or to tell me it's time for me to take off my ring and leave you. Otherwise, please, let me speak."

His hand slid over my hip, down my thigh, cuddled. I smiled at the touch.

"Tony, if you want Marcy, I mean if you want  her — want her in your bed, bucking and squealing with the delight you are so damned good at giving a girl — well, I understand that. She's lovely, dear and you're all man. And I've said Yes to it, with the only condition being that you be honest with me."

He was silent in the darkness.

Please, please, please, let him say No... Let him say he wants only me, that he wants me here beside him forever, 'forsaking all others'...

It was a foolish, adolescent prayer, I knew that. But I loved Tony and I'd meant every word I'd said about loyalty. Reconciling those two things would be my problem. I thought I could manage it.

I knew that I wouldn't love him any less if he made a play for Marcy, and I'd steeled myself against the hurt it might bring, but my offer had been unsolicited, freely given. It hadn't been a spur-of-the-moment thing either and I wasn't going to take it back.

I lay there, quiet now, listening to the night breezes outside and our combined heartbeats in the darkness. My head rose and fell with Tony's breathing.

I felt his hand sweep over my waist, caress a breast, fondle my shoulder, trace along my arm. Taking my left hand in his, he lifted it to his mouth. My heart almost danced as he gently kissed his ring and the finger that wore it.

"Thank you," he said softly. I couldn't be sure if he meant for my offer or for wearing his ring.

Then, silent in the night, he rolled, came to rest on top of me, his lips searching, warm, very gentle now. His tongue swept over my lips; I opened to welcome it and him. His tongue drifted between my teeth and lips, explored inside, played with mine, slowly, softly.

The kiss went on and on. I realized with a pang that he had not otherwise touched me, then felt that disappointment dissolve into nothingness as his mouth moved, tongue tip following my jawline, dropping to my shoulder, circling a nipple without quite touching it.

I dropped an arm, felt for his hardness, but couldn't quite reach it. I gasped as his tongue circled inwards to my nipple, hard now, expectant. His other hand swept ever so gently over my stomach, paused over my mound to shift it, roll it beneath his palm. I could suddenly feel wetness on my ladybits.

Happy, delighted, I whispered his name, hissed lightly as his teeth nipped very gently at my nipple, stretched it away from my body, released it. Again his tongue began to circle, wider now, this time over my other breast.

His hand moved down my body again. To my chagrin, it bypassed my sex, his fingers instead stroking the skin of my thighs with the gentlest of touches.

My arousal grew with each soft caress. I again tried to reach his cock, but he shifted his weight and all I could do was to run my hands over his back and sides, pull his head in against me.

His kisses became the gentlest possible touches on my lips, but they never stopped, never ceased feeding my arousal.

With a last inviting touch on my inner thigh, his hand returned to my shoulder to begin all over again. His head moved to my chest and, while his mouth teased and aroused one breast, his hand cupped and mounded the other. He sucked in a nipple between his lips and began to flick its tip with a fast-moving tongue; at the same time, he caught my other nipple between two fingers and stroked its tip with his thumb.

I thought my head would explode.

"Tony," I moaned softly. "Tony. Enough."

"Quiet, woman," he whispered. "I'm having fun."

His mouth returned to mine; his hand drifted south again. My breasts were practically quivering now, my labia swollen, slick with my dew. I could hear my pulse in my ears, feel each heartbeat in my nipples.

Again his hand found my bare mound, shifted it beneath his palm against my pelvis. My labia and hooded clit were softly pulled, dragged against each other and I groaned with pleasure.

"Please..."

He ignored me. Again his hand passed by my waiting pussy, began to caress my thighs. He knew how sensitive those were, knew very well how to use that sensitivity to drive me mad.

I tried to shift, roll away, to get a chance to please him , but those long arms were too strong.

Once more his head dropped to my boobs, his lips and tongue and teeth playing them, driving me to the very brink.

I sobbed with joy as a long finger finally — finally  — traced through the welcoming wetness of my ladylips, hissed with need as it moved back to fondle my legs. It returned, touched me softly, briefly, and it occurred to me that Tony diRossi was in his own way a musician, too, one capable of playing my body like a fine instrument.

His hand swept up over my stomach, gently caught a boob. His thumb and finger softly pinched and pulled a nipple before again sliding down to explore my swollen labia. My body was shaking with anticipation, with hope, with waiting for his next touch. It was hard to breathe in anything but gasps.

I shivered, moaned as he slid away from me. I moaned louder as I felt his whiskers on my stomach, on my knees.

His tongue wiggled its way up between my legs, touching one inner thigh, then the other, back and forth as it moved closer and closer.

"Tony!" It was all I could think of, all I could say.

I felt his nose probe between my lips, followed by his moustache, his lips, the tip of his tongue. His hands continued to stroke my inner thighs as his lips found my pearl, kissed it softly, sucked it in from under its hood. Holding it between his lips, his tongue swept over it, dumping a pail of liquid oxygen onto my fires.

My hands clutched at his head, pulling him in towards me, clinging to him like the last lifesaver on a sinking ship. He pulled back, stretching my nub slightly, released it, began to lick the full length of my lips, broad strokes, slow, devoted.

I was crying words now, words that made no sense, even to me. They became shrieks when a long finger found my opening, slipped in, stroked, probed.

I exploded, shouting, writhing under his hands, under his lips, under his still-searching tongue. It went on and on and...

"Stop! Tony, stop! You'll kill me!"

He pulled away, moved to lie back beside me. I lay panting, gasping, overwhelmed with the sheer enormity of my climax. I could just see his white teeth smiling in the darkness. His hardness nudged my hip, but I was still lost in glory, drifting through endless ripples of ecstasy.

His hand stroked my waist, my hip, slowly, gently, then he rose from the bed, returning with a glass of fizzy salvation. He held my head up and I gulped it thankfully.

"How's Stephanie?" His voice was so very, very gentle, I thought. How could I even have thought of being frightened?

"I love you, Tony." My hand found his, squeezed it to reinforce my words.

He was silent for a moment, then, "Still with me, Stephanie?"

"Oh yes, oh yes. You're good to me, Tony, so very good. Thank you."

His lips came close to my ear, kissed it. His laughter was plain now as he rolled on top of me, fumbled for his cock with his hand, moved it until it found my cleft.

"Oh god, Tony, wait! A girl needs to catch her breath!"

Ignoring me, he found his aim and slid slowly down into me. His cock fully seated, he kissed me tenderly, then silently began to ease his hips back.

The sensation of his length moving inside me was heavenly. As he took his second stroke into my depths, my orgasm took off again, shouting and shrieking its way through my entire body. It rebounded from my fingers and toes, swept around and around my boobs. I tried to roll my hips to meet his strokes but was too lost in pleasure.