Towel Seduction

The doorbell rarely rang, and almost never after nightfall. The house was somewhat isolated, off the mountain road, not far from the highway but around enough curves that you had to be trying to get there. Packages were usually delivered in the daytime, and the housekeeper was there then. So he didn't often answer his own door.

When he did open the polished wood door, he found a young woman, shivering and soaking wet, almost certainly a student from the small girls-only college in town at the base of the mountain. It had been raining steadily for a while, another reason why most people wouldn't be out right now.

"Can I help you?" he asked.

"I'm so sorry to bother you," she stammered. "My car ran off the road back there, because of the rain, and it's stuck in the ditch. My phone doesn't have a signal here, and this was the first house I found. Can I use your phone?"

He looked her over. She was stunningly pretty. Long, dark blonde hair hung down past her shoulders, large, doe eyes, and bright pink lipstick. She was wearing a white scoop neck t-shirt, a short cutoff denim skirt, and sandals. She certainly wasn't dressed to be walking down mountain roads in the rain. The t-shirt was thin and, wet as it was, hid absolutely nothing, beginning with the fact that she wasn't wearing a bra. Her nipples stood out erect, and goosebumps covered her arms.

"Of course. Please come in," he said, swinging the door wide.

"Thank you," she said as she stepped inside.

The foyer was large and filled with tasteful carpets and dark wood furniture. Everything, from the artwork to the appliances, spoke of success and someone who was used to having only the best.

"Let me get you a towel," he said, disappearing down a hall. A moment later, he was back with a large, luxurious towel. It was soft and fluffy, and she gratefully rubbed it on her hair and torso. He was older than her, with well-trimmed light brown hair, no beard, and a strong chin. He was wearing a dress shirt and slacks, crisp and impeccably tailored. His was watching her intently, but she was shivering too much to notice his gaze.

As she started to wrap the towel around herself, he held out his hand and said, "I'll get you a fresh one." She hesitated a moment, then handed the towel to him. He disappeared again. She was drier, but not dry, and her shirt still clung to her. He came back with a new towel identical to the first, and she again patted herself with it, bending over to rub her legs as well this time. When she straightened up, he said, "If you give me your shirt, I'll put it in the dryer and get you a dry one to wear." He held out his hand.

She froze, but she didn't want to be rude when he had been so nice, and besides, she was still shivering. On the other hand, he hadn't said anything about letting her use a bathroom or anything to change. She turned her back and pulled the t-shirt over her head, then quickly wrapped the towel around herself.              She handed the shirt to him, and he took it and disappeared again.

He came back almost at once, but, this time, his hands were empty.

"Oh, silly me," he said, with a self-deprecating grin, "I forgot to bring you a shirt. I'll get you one, but since I'm going, let me take that wet towel." She hesitated again, but he had been so nice. She slowly unwrapped the towel and held it out to him. He took it and turned down the hall, leaving her standing there, arms crossed over her small, firm breasts.

He returned this time with a new towel. She hurriedly wrapped it around herself. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. Are you feeling warmer?"

She nodded. "Yes, thank you."

"Good. Let me take that skirt, and I'll dry it, too."

She hesitated again, but the skirt was wet. Clutching the towel with one hand, she unbuttoned the skirt and slid it down her legs, slipping her sandals off too. She handed the skirt to him. Now, under the towel, all she was wearing was a white thong panty. He disappeared down the hall again.

This time, when he came back, he had a smaller towel. He stepped up to her. "Your hair is still wet. Let me dry it for you." He raised the small towel and began to dry her hair. Since she was already using her hands to hold the large towel around herself, she let him.

He rubbed the towel on her hair, drying and patting it. She knew that he was being...forward...but he was so nice, so sure of himself, and it did feel good. She didn't really know what to think.

He slipped the small towel down her neck, then dropped one corner so that he was holding it with only one hand, with both hands resting on her shoulders. He began massaging her shoulders gently. His hands were warm and strong, and her hesitation was being swallowed up in the relaxing sensations.

He leaned over and kissed the top of her head, then her temple, then her cheek as she leaned her head back into him. His hands were still rubbing her shoulders, but now gliding down her arms, too. She let her grip on the towel loosen, and, smoothly, he slipped it off and let it fall to the floor. He slid his hands around her sides to cup her breasts from below. She took in an unsteady breath. He lifted her breasts, squeezed them, and gently pinched her nipples between his fingers.

He ran his hands down her belly, then slipped his right under the elastic, into her thong. She caught her breath and arched her head into his shoulder, not able to say anything. "You're wet here, too," he said with a knowing smile in his voice, "But I don't think that was the rain, was it?" She moaned softly as he caressed her, then suddenly he bent, placing one arm behind her knees, and scooped her up. She instinctively put her arms around his neck as he carried her to his bedroom. His scent was crisp and manly. The room was just as large, clean, and impeccably furnished as the rest of the house. The bed was king-size and covered with silk sheets and rich blankets.

He laid her on the bed, her arms still around his neck as he leaned over her to give her a firm, deep kiss. Her heart fluttered; the kiss was more confident, self-assured, than any she had ever experienced.

He put one hand under her head, sliding his fingers into her hair at the top of her neck, and ran his mouth down her cheek, her neck, to her breast. She moaned again as he licked her nipple and took it in, flicking his tongue over it, darting and sucking. He did the same to the other one, back and forth, drawing both into pointed nubbins. Her nipples had always been sensitive; now they felt like they were made of fire.

He moved his hand from her neck, down her body, over her thong this time. He raised up, took it by the sides, and slid it down her legs. She had fine, light brown hair above delicate lips. He laid his hand lightly over her mound, covering but not probing as he kissed her again. In response, she raised her pelvis, pressing her mound into his hand. He did not disappoint her. He pressed more firmly, making a slow circling motion with the flat of his hand. She started moving in time to him and separated her legs slightly.

Continuing to kiss and nuzzle her face, he pressed deeper into her mound and spread his fingers, moving her lips apart and exposing her button, peeking out just above her opening. He circled it with his fingers, then, as she moaned again, he deliberately pressed on it firmly.

A gasp escaped her, and she grabbed his hair. He began rubbing her button steadily until her pelvis was rocking. Giving her another kiss to hold her, he smoothly moved down her body, between her legs. He opened her lips wide and replaced his fingers with his tongue on her button. She squealed and grabbed her breasts, squeezing them and pulling on her so-sensitive nipples. He quickly settled into a new rhythm, licking her button, every few minutes sucking it into his mouth, holding a moment as he felt the spasms run through her, then licking again. Her head was rocking back and forth, her moans and sighs betraying her pleasure.

He continued for several minutes, sensing the spasms build. When the time was right, he moved his free hand down and slipped a finger, then two, inside her slit. She let out a small scream and grabbed his hair, pulling his face more tightly into her. He could sense the tension rising, and, after another moment, she arched her back and released a much louder scream as she came, bucking on the bed. He kept going, feeling her as she clenched around his fingers, until she relaxed. He withdrew and gently massaged her mound, calming her, before climbing back up to lay alongside her. She looked up at him with wide eyes.

"Shhh," he said, kissing her. He stood up, holding her hand and kissing it before dropping it to undress. He removed his shirt, slacks, and underwear. He dropped them over a chair, then turned back to her. Her eyes, which had been admiring his muscular back and ass, widened as they fell on the longest, thickest cock she had ever seen, even counting the dirty movies that sometimes appeared at her sorority, and certainly more so than the ones of the boys she had been with.

He saw he look. "It's ok," he smiled. He took her hand and brought it up to his cock. She raised her other one too and wrapped both around it. It was meaty and solid. She moved one hand down to his balls, and they, too, were firm and heavy.

She leaned forward, mouth slightly open, and touched her tongue to the tip of the cock. She licked, then tentatively took in the tip, then the entire head. It seemed to fill her mouth, and she backed off to look up at him a moment before trying again. She was able to get farther down the shaft, supporting it with one hand and his balls with the other. After a minute she found her rhythm, and with it an unexpected desire to do good, to impress this impressive cock.

He stood quietly, hands on his low back, letting her please him, her warm, soft mouth sucking him eagerly now. He looked down at the top of her head, bobbing on him; occasionally she paused to take a breath, then went back to him. He was sure that, if he let her, she would gladly swallow his cum, but right now he had other thoughts. It was time to let her see what a real cock could do.

He gently pushed her back onto the bed and knelt between her legs. He kissed her again, and she felt him at her opening, still slick with her juices. He probed briefly, then began to enter her.

Her mind was a whirl--it wasn't painful, and he wasn't rough, but she could feel herself yielding inexorably to him. Once he had sunk himself completely--giving her more cock than she would have ever thought she could take--he began to glide in and out with long, smooth strokes. As her moans got louder, he sped up. Every few strokes, he would withdraw completely, then sink himself all the way to his base again.

Soon enough, her spasms began to build again. His breathing became sharper, and, as her pants got louder, he suddenly gave a harsh groan and with several sharp, forceful thrusts she felt him erupt, flooding her, and she screamed again with her own release. When he finally withdrew, she felt stretched, wet, and very empty.

He lay beside her and held her as they savored the bliss. After a while, he asked, "How do you feel?"

She smiled, giddy. "I don't know. Wonderful, I guess." Then, with a chuckle, "I'm a mess."

He smiled. "The bathroom is in there," pointing to a door.

She got up on unsteady legs and went in. She took a hot, steamy shower and wrapped herself in another fluffy towel.

Afterward, he called a tow truck for her car and gave her a ride to it. As she drove away, he thought about the college. About once a year, one of the students would get lost on his road. He was always happy to help them. Of course, they would gossip about their experience, and then others might get "lost" too...