Secrets of the Tea Room Ch. 02

She pleaded with him ... please wait until our wedding night ... and he said nothing ... she threatened to scream, but she was certain no one was within 40 acres of them in any direction. As the third button was freed, the blouse began to unfold exposing a white cotton bra. He ran his tongue along the top of the bra cup and Millie whimpered. Then his hand slowly drifted down to the bottom of her skirt and began to push the soft cotton up her thigh. Millie began another frenzy of struggling ... this time so hard that perspiration began to glisten on her forehead and chest. She begged him to stop and this time he laughed with dark humor. He promised her that before he was done she'd be begging him not to stop and then begging him to do it again.

The shock rose in her eyes as his fingertips found the elastic around the legs of her panties. Still holding her wrists in his left hand, he re-adjusted his leg to cover her knees as his forefinger gently traced around the elastic. First he followed the path to feel the beginning mounds of her round behind, then back around to the center of her being. He was taking his time and looking her in the eye the whole while. Surprisingly, she didn't say any more, she didn't scream or curse, she simply returned his gaze without expression.

As his finger stroked the silken down between her legs, he slipped off one and then the other of her bra straps with his teeth, exposing both breasts. Against her white skin her nipples matched the pink in her cheeks and when they had no protection against the chilly October air, they puckered into tiny ruby rocks.

He slowly took one in his mouth, gently sucking and tenderly biting while his right hand continued its mission. Then he switched to the other breast as his right hand ventured to the top of her panties and pulled them down to her knees.

Then his fingers sought the treasure between her legs and he smiled at her when he found she was wet, despite her protestations. He continued to circle her entrance, making sure she was amply wet before exploring further with his finger. She was a virgin! She was so tight he wasn't even sure if he'd be able to complete his desire when it was time. He was her first, and after this, he was sure he would be the only man she'd ever have. No respectable girl could go to another husband after being so completely used ... and he had every intention of using her completely.

As his finger delved further, Millie let out a small gasp and then bit her lower lip. She could not ... would not ... let him see the effect this was having on her. He tried to loosen his grip on her wrists, but as soon as she sensed the lessening of pressure, she began to struggle again and was beginning to make it rather troublesome to finish his mission.

He unbuckled the belt around her slender waist, and drew it out of the loops. As he was tying the buckle end around her wrists, he used his legs to scoot her closer to the side of the stall. There he secured the other end of the belt around one of the rails, leaving both of his hands free.

He raised up just a little and slid the blouse up her arms and then likewise, unsnapped her bra and pushed it up her arms as far as it would go. She was embarrassed to be exposed like this and shocked to see the serene look on his face as he slowly gazed at her. He lingered twirling one of her curls around his finger. He caressed first her eyes and then her mouth with the slightest of touches. His finger ran the length of her neck then circled her nipples, one at a time. He cupped his hand and his nails traced a path to her center as he continued to take in the picture in front of him.

He once again, raised over her and suckled her breast while the other one received short tweaks from his fingers bordering somewhere between pain and ecstasy.

As he watched her eyes, his hands slowly spread her legs, first one then the other. He smiled as he bent over to kiss her nipples, then nibble slowly down to the hedge of blonde curls that protected her innocence.

He shifted to wedge his knees inside her knees to push her legs further apart. He took his time first running both hands up her body to her breast. As he slid himself lower he first ran his tongue the length of her while his hands slowly drifted to the aid of his mouth. His thumbs parted those lips to surrender her vulnerability up to him. As he began to slowly tongue her mound, Millie moaned for the first time but lay very still. He continued to administer attention, first to the little button hidden between those lips, then slipping one, then two, then finally three fingers in her, moving slowly in and out until Millie moaned again and arched her back. He smiled and came back up to kiss her. This time she did not fight him, but opened her mouth as his covered hers. His hands never stopped moving, stroking, touching, pinching, flicking her breasts, her belly ...

He stood, his hands went to his belt slowly unbuckling it and then just as slowly he unzipped his pants. He watched Millie as she watched him. He sat on a nearby bale of hay and unlaced his work boots, kicking off one then the other. After he socks were pulled from his feet, he stood up to relieved himself of his pants. His manhood was proud and erect ...

Millie had never seen a man ... oh, she'd seen little boys when one cousin or another had to a diaper to change, but she had no idea that a man transformed into such a stick. Her feet tried to dig into the hard dirt floor in a vain attempt to run away.

He lay down on top of her, kissing her and stilling her with the full weight of him.

As he slowly began to entered her, she jolted and once again tried to escape the intrusion. But, he steadily, and patiently continued to pivot his hips, urging her to open and entered her further with every push. As she grimaced, he watched her face, never letting an expression of any kind cross his face to give away his feelings.

With each stroke Millie loosened and opened willingly for him, a firm thrust finally pierced her maidenhood and he felt a warm ooze of blood. He never noticed that she let out a short scream, but buried his face in her hair and began to make love to her in earnest. Within a few strokes, Millie, too, began to move her hips in rhythm, completing an erotic sort of dance. Suddenly she arched her back, shivered all over, and collapsed into a buttery pool of flesh. When he raised up, he looked at the afterglow on her face and smiled.

He told her that he loved her and could not bear to be without her for another minute. Would she forgive him? Did she still love him?

Millie opened her eyes and studied his face. She said nothing for what seemed like an eternity, then the corners of her mouth curled up. Through half closed lids shaded with thick lashes, she began to speak. "I have wanted you since the first day you approached me with your hat in your hand. I didn't know what I wanted, or how it was to happen ... my mother never talked to me about these things ... but from that day to this, every time you walked into a room, my belly tingled and my panties were suddenly wet. I could not have come to you of my own free will, if we were to be lovers before we were married, you had to take me ... and I'm glad you did. I'll go to New York now ... when I come back we'll be married."

He kissed her again and again and finally liberated her mouth. She smiled up at him, "Now, if you'll untie my hands, we can see what else you have to teach me," and he did so gladly.

He and Millie spent the remainder of the afternoon and into the twilight learning and exploring. As Millie dressed and drove back into town she noticed that there was, in fact, a vermilion sky shrouding the fields.

Suddenly Dad remember he had a son, and went out to find me.

I remained as still as I had that whole afternoon in the loft despite my own discomfort.

I had watched and received my first lesson in love making through a knothole."

I was brought back to the present when I realized his eyes were studying me, he smiled an understanding smile as he watched my face during his story turning from an ordinary color to blushing pink, and grinned further as toward the end of his story I had begun to fan my face with the linen napkin, although I made no protest to stop him.

Throughout Mr. Emerly's story I became increasingly aware of the affect it was having on me. I was afraid that the slight tremor in my hand would betray my pent-up, locked away secret self.

Suddenly I knew I had to get myself away from Mr. Emerly and Tanglewood as quickly as possible. "Well", I quickly said, "I don't think I can top that one. But I do think I must leave now for another pressing engagement. I forgot an important appointment scheduled for early this evening."

He stood as I slid my chair back and crossed to my side of the table. "I hope you will come to visit me again, Miss Prentiss, I promise not to get sidetracked during our interview next time. I'll check with Vonne and have her give you a call to set up our next meeting if that's alright with you."

I nodded, stood and wobbled just a little and he steadied me by placing the palm of his hand against my back, just at the waist line. I was shocked when I realized his touch seared through my knit dress. I couldn't let myself be distracted again, so I began to quickly cross the veranda and skip down the stairs. I waved goodbye and shouted from my car door, "Please have Vonne give me a call, I'm certain we can ar range something."

As I put the car in gear and began to make my way into the oak tunnel again, I looked in my rear view mirror and saw that Mr. Emerly had crossed to the front of the veranda and was holding is arm up in a wave of goodbye. I knew I would see him again. I looked forward to it.

I could scarcely help but run the story over in my mind again and again. It wasn't anything like I had ever heard in an interview before, but I somehow I knew it would haunt my dreams.

By the time I had driven back into the city, I was thinking clearly once again about projects and priorities. I didn't believe there was any future in trying to weave anything about Mr. Emerly or his mysterious enterprises into the article, I had no doubt that I should just finish it and submit it.

When I got home, I peeled off the confining clothing and settled down in my favorite sweat pants and t-shirt. I poured a glass of wine, turned on my computer, and began to put the finishing touches on my article. It was more of a chore than I had bargained for and by the time I finished the sun had gone down and the street lights had come on. I copied the article to a floppy disc and stretched my hands above my head. Thanks to computers, the old curse of 'writer's cramp' had moved through the hands, up the arms, and settled in a very stiff neck.

I'd Fed-Ex the floppy tomorrow, right now all I wanted was a hot bath. I walked over to the kitchen cabinets, took out a carafe, and poured it half full of wine. I had decided I wanted to soak for a long, long time. On the way to the bathroom, I took the phone off the receiver and turned on my stereo.

In the bathroom, I began filling the tub and poured in bubble bath that smelled of magnolias. I lit the candles on the vanity, and shucked out of my clothes. The steam rising from the water filled the room with the signature aroma of the South and helped me to settle down a little bit, I poured another glass of wine, sat the carafe down beside the tub and stepped in. I scooted down in the water and positioned a terrycloth towel rolled up to support my neck. It shouldn't take long now before the combination of the hot water and wine began to unknot my neck. I closed my eyes and willed myself not to think about anything in particular. I floated where the soft music from the stereo took me, and it wasn't long before I filled my glass again. The water had begun to get tepid, so I sat up, let a little of the water out, and turned on the hot water again. I laid back again and rubbed the bubbles over my shoulders, breast and tummy. When the tub had reached a perfect temperature again, I shut off the water and once again closed my eyes.

This time, my mind did wander back to Tanglewood. I was strangely stirred by Mr. Emerly, not just the story he had told, but the fuzzy feeling of calm when I was with him. His piercing blue eyes found me across the miles and through the steam, and I once again was on his veranda, fanning my face with a linen napkin.

Good God! I forced myself to gulp down the rest of the wine and rise out of the tub. As the drain sucked the last of the water down, I brushed my hair and took off my makeup. I decided to just make it an early night and not worry about tomorrow or my next assignment.

After making sure the door was locked and turning off the remaining lights, I folded down the bed and slipped between the covers. For the first time in years I didn't put on a nightshirt ... I wanted to sleep unencumbered. As darkness enfolded me, I released a sigh, and fell asleep before the covers barely touched my shoulders.

Suddenly I was on a sumptuous terrace above the ocean. I was wearing a gauzy dress that reached almost to the ground. Before me sat a table loaded with glistening fruit, sticky pastries, and heady wine. Not the least bit concerned about being alone, I began to sample the delicacies one at a time. In the distance I could see a man approaching, I shielded my eyes from the sun and gazed in his direction. I didn't think it was anyone I knew, but in my dream there was no reason to be alarmed. He walked toward me slowly, his face hidden by the shadow of a wide brimmed Panama Hat. I could just make out the outline of his jaw, but somehow knew he was smiling ... and I was smiling back at him. He didn't say a word to me, nor I to him, there was no need because we two had been waiting for each other. He took me in his arms and began to lower his lips to kiss mine. I welcomed his kiss and pulled him closer to me. The dreamscape took on a purple hue as the sun set and we walked down to the beach with our arms around each other. It didn't seem strange at all that we did not speak. I was aware that his hand rubbed up and down caressing from my waist to the full curve of my bottom. I did not want to stop him, but only looked at him and smiled. He smiled back with a tender, loving mouth. I could not read his eyes because they were still shaded by the brim of the hat. When we reached the beach we sank onto a blanket already laid out in the sand. As we knelt he reached out to cup my face as he kissed me long and hard. His hands drifted from my cheeks, down my neck and across my shoulders, his mouth sought its way down my neck, kissing the little indentation at the base of my throat, while his hands circled my breasts. I eased myself down, pulling him with me. I wanted no foreplay. I was hungry from years of want and raised my hips to meet his. We were suddenly without clothes, and his chest loomed above me, I moaned as I felt him enter me again and again and I never wanted him to stop. I wanted for either my whole life to go on like this, or to die this very moment knowing the full height of sensual delight. I held each of his forearms in my hands. He lifted himself up at arm's length to look at me and I reveled in his adoration. In my dream I was beautiful and desirable ... I was everything he wanted. As I wondered at my lover, I wasn't at all surprised to see Jackson Emerly smiling down at me. We locked eyes as the passion grew, and I wanted to memorize every feature, every line of his face. The face above me began to fade and change. I was confused and watched while the face of Peter appeared ... his face framed by his dark hair hovering above me ... then I watched as those dark eyes softened again ...

I bolted straight up in the bed, the sheets were torn askew and my hair was limp with sweat. I pulled the hair off my face and back from my forehead as I tried to center myself in reality. My right arm automatically slid around my waist as though to protect myself from any further delusions.

I looked at the clock and it blinked back 1:43. I untangled the covers and climbed out of bed only to perceive a storm was building in the dis tance and I could barely hear the thunder. I walked to the window and watched as the lightening shattered the dark and skitted across the sky, and very deliberately took in deep breaths to throw off some of the lingering erogenous lightening still emanating from deep inside me.

After a time I crawled back in bed, but the rest of the night was spent uncomfortably, tossing and turning . I was afraid I would dream again, but terrified that I might not.