Past, Present and Future Ch. 07

OK, now what, Tony?

He came up behind me, kissed my shoulder softly.

"Enjoy the view, Stephanie. I intend to."

I could hear his special soft chuckle as he said that, felt it in my tummy and breasts.

My smile grew as he began to walk around me, glass in his hand. He circled me slowly, his eyes running over me from head to foot. It wasn't a casual glance, not something a boy on campus might do, not even to admire his date's prom dress. That wasn't for Tony. He took his time, studying my body, my face and my hair with the quiet pleasure of an art curator carefully, delightedly examining every brush-stroke of a long-lost Rembrandt. From time to time, he took a small sip from his glass.

I tried to relax. Tony being able to look at me, enjoy the view, was central to our relationship and he could make this last a long time.

Outside, the gold and crimson sky dimmed, faded, passed almost suddenly to a full, inky black. Beyond were the isolated lights of scattered farmhouses. A few passing sets of headlights traced out unlit country roads.

I realized now that the broad expanse of glass in front of me had turned into a remarkably good mirror.

Looking at my reflection, I knew that I had it all - the long blonde hair, the firm, high breasts, soft brown areolae surrounding prominent nipples, a narrow waist and endless, slim legs running up to a world-class bum. I'd had friends who'd said I could put myself through school working in the Dundas Street peeler bars. I'd thought about it one time when money had been tight, found economies, worked longer hours at the Spoke and, like just about everyone else, moved on. I still wondered from time to time what it would've been like, especially given the inevitability of student customers recognizing me on campus.

It would have been hard, I think, displaying myself like that back then. Now, with Tony, having discovered far more confidence than I'd had before, far more awareness of my strengths and my potential - well, it might be easier now. I was, after all, constantly on display for male pleasure. But this was only for just one boy and that one was Tony. That made all the difference in the world.

I began to drift away in a happy daydream, just a bit, jumped a little when Tony touched me for the first time, a finger trailing down from my hand to my elbow.

"So lovely," he whispered. "Such perfect skin."

His hand touched me again, stayed on me, traced its way down my arm, down my waist. A strong hand clasped one bum cheek, squeezed. I could see his image in the window as he sank lower behind me. I wiggled a little as the tip of his tongue traced its way up my bum crack. He slid over to kiss one dimple on my lower back, then the other.

His hands, those strong, sensitive, knowing hands, slid softly over my bum to my legs, then down to my ankles, fingers trailing smouldering tingles in their wake. In the window, I could see my nipples swell, smiled at the feeling.

Bending, his lips kissed the back of each of my knees. Rising, he nipped one cheek gently with his teeth. I felt my tummy harden, my legs quiver.

On his knees, he slid around to my front and looked up at me. Those grey eyes, which once I'd felt to be so formidable, were soft now, gentle, eyes to warm my heart.

Palms together, his hands slid between my ankles, softly pushed them apart, better exposing my bare sex to his gaze. As my feet spread further, I felt my grip on the hooks above me tighten a bit, but I was still perfectly comfortable.

I could feel his warm breath on the soft skin of my inner thighs, on my sex. In response, I could feel my ladylips swell slightly and heard him chuckle again.

"So very pretty," he murmured, then leaned in, kissed me there, softly, lovingly. He leaned back, his eyes sparkling, a smile on his face.

"So pretty," he repeated, then leaned in again, this time to give a soft, broad lick with his tongue, the full length of my sex.

I gasped softly, delightedly, hopefully. I'd often told Tony that his tongue deserved a PhD in Pleasing Stephanie. He licked me again, feathers and dandelion fluff and the sound of a single snowflake.

"Tony," I moaned.

"Hush, woman," he whispered, bending in and licking me again.

He backed again to smile up at me, leaned in again for a longer, slower lick, his hands around me, clasping my bum.

I realized that I could see us reflected in a large mirror mounted on the wall behind me -- a two-bank shot from window to mirror, so to speak. I could see his fingers sinking into my bottom as he pulled his head into my sex, his tongue swirling and dancing. I could see my labia, his chin and white beard between my spread legs.

I moaned, totally ready for him, ready, willing and...

I moaned again, louder, as he stopped, stood up. One hand drifted through my hair, twirled it around and between his fingers, used it to pull me in for a strong, strong kiss, his tongue teasing and playing with mine. His other hand found one breast, then the other, squeezing, playing.

I could taste myself on his lips and moaned again, louder, deep in my chest, as he released me, stepped away. Picking up his wine glass, he took a sip, held it to my lips. Almost panting, I took a deep gulp, swallowed.

"Thank you," I whispered, "but..."

"Hush, Stephanie. This pleases me for now."

He held the glass to my lips again. I sipped gratefully, leaned quickly forward as he pulled the glass away too soon. I moved too slowly and wine dribbled over my chin.

Tony laughed gently, tilted the glass towards me, sending more wine over my chin and throat, a sheet of it trickling down over my collarbones and breasts.

"Tony!"

His laughter was more open now, more carefree than I'd ever heard it. Setting down the glass on the island, he leaned in and began to lick the wine off my body with broad, quick tongue strokes. While he did a good job everywhere, I wasn't particularly surprised that much of his 'cleanup' seemed to be directed to my breasts.

"Tony," I whispered. "Your shirt."

He pulled back for a moment, looked down. There was indeed a drop of wine on his otherwise-impeccable garment.

"Don't go 'way," he commanded as he stepped back and turned on the kitchen kettle. Boiling water would take out the wine, when and if. His fingers rose to his shirt buttons and began unfastening them. He began circling me again as he undressed. The shirt was tossed onto the island, his trousers onto a convenient chair, leaving him as bare as I'd been for hours.

His cock — his wonderful, gifted, joy-making manhood — was hard now, as swollen as my waiting labia. I smiled at the sight of it, smiled again in anticipation of the happiness I knew it would soon give me.

It swung heavily as he turned. I bit my lip in small frustration as he again began to circle me, kissing my skin, dragging fingertips over legs, bottom, boobs, throat, face.

"Tony..."

"Be patient, Stephanie. I am enjoying this."

He stopped suddenly, stepped away, facing me with hands on his hips.

"Are you  not enjoying yourself, Stephanie?"

I could feel happy moisture on my inner thigh, knew he had tasted it, had toyed with my stiff nipples. A tease was Tony, but a very pleasant one.

He laughed, stepped into me again, seized my head in his hands. I could feel his hardness against me as his mouth ground onto mine, demanding now, urgent. I shifted my tummy from side to side, rolling his manhood between us. His kiss changed for an instant and I knew how much he'd liked that.

His hands came around my waist, pulling me in hard, then harder still, kitten tenderness over grizzly bear strength.

His lips came to my ear and he nipped my earlobe gently with his teeth.

"Let go now."

I dropped my arms; he caught me up in his own, carried me into the bedroom. Moments later, no need for subtlety now, he dropped me on my back and eased his organ into me in one long, smooth push. My breath caught as his engorged rim stretched me, his length filled me, slid along my walls. He paused, kissed me, began to drive into me, hard now.

I reached down between us, found where my lower lips were being dragged and stretched by his plunging shaft. Palm-down on my mound, I made a Vulcan V, stretched out further, felt him glide between my fingers, veins and velvet skin over Italian oak. I squeezed my fingers together, heard him grunt in pleasure.

I shifted my thumb, found my pearl, began to roll it whenever he lifted. I was close, very close. Every time Tony dropped onto me, every breath I took, every shift of the wind outside almost -- everything was fanning my hunger, pulling me nearer and nearer to my climax.

Tony stiffened, gave a small gasp as I squeezed his cock with my most female muscles. He groaned and sagged, then, pulsing, emptied his pleasure into me. I gave one last push with my thumb and exploded myself, great bursts of light, turning and shaking and burning, crying my joy in the night, wordless and shrill.

.

After a few minutes, Tony eased himself out of me, lay beside me in the candlelight. Orgasmic ripples faded slowly through me as he shifted himself, snuggled in closer. One hand swept gently over my breathless body, clutched briefly on my bum, moved up to come to rest on my breast.

"You are amazing, Stephanie." His hand squeezed my boob softly.

"I'm amazed at you, Mr. diRossi, so good to me, so kind - such an amazing lover."

He squeezed again. "I wish I'd spoken up earlier, Stephanie, maybe the first time we met in the lab. So lovely, so warm -- why did I take so long?"

"It worked out, Tony. You make me very happy now. I love you."

He started to speak, cursed softly when my phone rang. I recognized the ring.

"It's Marcy," I whispered.

"At this hour?"

I got out of bed, found my phone. There was nobody there. I called back, but she didn't answer.

I shrugged, went back to my man.

+

I was drifting, miles down, floating in the hedonistic bliss of an extended foot rub. I smiled into the darkness as strong hands rolled and pulled my toes, slid up my soles, caressed my ankles, soft, strong and loving.

"Mmm. You're good to a girl, sir."

He laughed a little. The candles had burned out and the only light came from a nightlight in the bathroom down the hall. I could see his silhouette against the open door -- strong, broad shoulders. dangling manhood between his thighs.

"Have I mentioned that I love you, Stephanie?"

My heart stopped. I swear it did. Tony had never spoken of love before. I'd been dreaming of it, dreaming of him saying that he loved me, but this was the first time.

I shook my head, tried to prove to myself that I was awake. I wriggled, pulled loose, rose to my knees. "Tony? You're not playing..."

I felt his arms come around me, pulling me into his shoulder. I found myself weeping - happy, delighted tears, tears I'd been saving up for a special occasion.

I felt him reach out in the darkness, then a tissue was pressed against my face.

"Never, Stephanie. I wouldn't joke about that. I love you, dear woman."

The tears started again. I sniffled, tried to smile more, pulled back to blow my nose.

"I love you, too, Tony. I've so wanted..." My throat choked up; instead of trying to talk, I pulled him in for a kiss, an almost frantic, wonderful, ecstatic kiss. The tears wouldn't stop, but I think he knew they were blessing, not grieving. His hand swept my head, trailed through my hair, down my back, and again, comforting, loving.

He was a patient man and waited patiently for my happy sobs to pass.

His hand turned my face up and towards him. I could see the one side of his face, tried to turn away.

"I must be a mess," I whispered.

His hand appeared with another tissue, gently wiped my eyes and cheeks. He held it to my nose.

"Blow."

I did, giggled. I collected the sodden tissues from where they lay around us on the bed, pulled them into a ball.

"I'll be right back."

In the bathroom, I wiped the last of my tears away with a wet cloth and slid into that emergency makeup repair process every woman knows. I was about to leave but stopped, opened the cabinet again. I quickly found the small perfume bottle.

Not too much. Not now. Just a reminder, a hint, tiny drops on wrists, neck, behind my ears, between the girls and a last one on one inner thigh.

A quick touch with the hairbrush and the girl in the mirror looked 100% better than the teary wreck three minutes before.

Shoulders back, Steph. Big smile -- happy smile, delighted, loving smile. Initiating graceful in three, in two...

+

Tony's head was on the pillow now, resting on hands tucked behind it. I could see his eyes on my form as I re-entered the bedroom.

I crawled the length of the bed on hands and knees, lay down beside him. He wrapped an arm around me; I rested my head on his shoulder, curled my body against his, warm in the dim light.

I didn't say anything at first, merely ran my fingertips up and down his chest.

I sensed him sniff lightly, smiled to myself.

He pulled away, smiling now. He rested on one elbow, examined me, sniffed again, less softly this time. His eyes moved over me in the dim light.

"She cleans up pretty good."

I smiled at his gentle tease, leaned up and kissed his cheek.

His smile faded; his face became more solemn.

"I did mean it, Stephanie. I'm sorry it took me so long. I've been... afraid." The word sounded so strange on his lips.

One hand slid along my side, squeezed my waist.

I smiled, kissed his lips gently, rolled back.

"I love you, Tony. More than I thought possible. And you said it at the perfect time."

"Perfect...?"

"Now. You said it now, which makes now the perfect time."

I could see him rolling that around in his head.

My turn. Time to seal this moment in my memory — and hopefully his — forever.

I rose to my knees, He tried to follow, but, hand in the middle of his chest, I pushed him back, gently but firmly. He chuckled, dropped onto his back in the middle of the bed, arms and legs outstretched. Smiling softly, I slithered over him, softly drawing my boobs and tummy over his legs, his groin, up his chest, coming to rest kneeling over his midsection, a knee on either side of his hips. I could feel his soft penis against my inner thigh.

I tried my brightest smile, leaned down so our faces were almost touching.

"Tony," I said softly, "I've waited so long for you to say that. You've made me very happy, dear man."

His lips were soft now, no urgency, no agenda. His tongue met mine in a slow, languid dance while his hands lovingly clasped my bum, pulled me in towards him.

Three days and a century later, I pulled back, my heart pounding. His tender smile, framed between white beard and moustache, gleamed in the dim light from the hallway.

"I want to make you happy, Stephanie."

His hands rose from my bottom, took me by the waist, hugged.

I bent down, kissed him quickly, began to slide down his body again, my tongue trailing on his skin. I kissed his nipples in passing, circled his navel, moved further down. Tony's hands dragged lightly over my back as I moved.

He was still soft when I reached his groin, flaccid sex lying on one thigh, scrotum and balls hanging between his legs.

"Oopsie," I giggled. "Somebody's gone to sleep."

He laughed softly, lay still, waiting.

I lifted his heavy sac with one hand, licked around and behind it. I sensed his tummy muscles tighten slightly as I gently kissed his soft manhood.

"Wake uppp, little man!" I stage-whispered. Tony's chuckle was cut off as I sucked it between my lips and began to swirl my tongue around it. I was surprised how quickly it filled my mouth as it stiffened. A minute later, I was licking its length, exploring its slit with my tongue, gently rolling the boys in my fingers.

I remembered to show my man how pleased I was at being able to please him like this. I kept my eyes fixed on his as I pumped his softest skin over his rigid core, thumbing his crown every time my hand reached the top, took him deeper into my mouth. I gave him a happy smile whenever I lifted myself off him. His eyes were half-closed and I gave his head a gentle nip with my teeth.

"Hey! I had to wake one of you up already, Tony. Don't you dare go to sleep!"

Laughing, he swept his hands over my head, fingers flowing through my hair.

"Not a chance, Stephanie. Not a chance."

"I want to hear it again," I whispered.. I began to pump his cock harder now. "Say it again, Tony."

"I love you."

My heart soared and my soul caught fire. There was no need for foreplay now, not for me.

Keeping my hand around his length, I rose, aimed him, lowered myself onto him. My head fell back, my hair streaming behind me as I felt his girth stretching me, filling me to my core as I sank lower onto him.

His arms came up again, but I caught his wrists, pushed them down gently.

"My turn, Mr. diRossi. You can relax for a change, you delightful man. This one's on me."

He smiled, adjusted a pillow and lay back with his hands tucked behind his head, watching. I could see his nostrils flare each time I rolled my hips over him.

It was tender sex, soft and gentle, as lovingly affirming as it was physically enjoyable.

Slowly, I thought. Make this last. Make him remember this night.

He was breathing deeper now, his eyes fixed on mine. His hands moved gently over my thighs and waist, swept up to cup and caress my breasts, then started over. It felt too good to push him away again. I rolled my hips, slowly, slowly, feeling his length move inside my depths, felt his crown stretching my inner walls as I moved. From time to time, I leaned down, felt my nipples tingle at the hair on his chest, kissed him, kisses miles deep and soft as down.

I could feel the arousal grow within me. I knew I would reach an overwhelming climax in time, but this was the moment for simple sensations, expanding slowly, building patiently, the patience Tony had taught me.

Tony caught my nipples between thumbs and fingers, pulled gently as his hands squeezed my boobs. I giggled happily, squeezed his organ inside, heard him chuckle.

"I love you," I murmured, then gasped slightly as he softly pinched my nipples.

I kept rolling my hips on his, happily giving, thankfully accepting.

Tony's breathing suddenly stopped; he lay motionless beneath me.

I followed his eyes, saw Marcy's form silhouetted in the doorway. I froze myself, shocked, embarrassed.

"I called," she whispered, "but you didn't answer. I had to come."

I looked down to Tony, back over my shoulder to the figure in the door. I couldn't see her face, but it was clear that she'd undressed. The faint light highlighted narrow waist, perfect hips, labia visible between strong thighs.

"Please." Her tone spoke of uncertainty, worry, maybe even fear.

Fear? Of rejection? Was she so foolish as to think that all she had to offer was her nudity?

Tony remained silent, unmoving.

"The door was unlocked," she said. "I'm sorry."

"Please," she repeated softly.

There was a long silence. I could feel Tony's hardness twitch once within me.

His head turned from Marcy, shift down to look up me. Even in the dim light, I could see his grey eyes, sense his unaccustomed uncertainty.

I overcame my initial shock. Had Marcy been dressed, it might have — would have — have been different. Naked and beautiful as she was, I somehow found I was not going to die of embarrassment, was not going to scream, either in frustration or in embarrassment. Maybe her nakedness was an offering, a proffered vulnerability...

Whatever pleased Tony.   Marcy in the door was pushing my boundaries very hard, but I could hardly forget my hall pass, if this was what would please him.