World Enough and Time Ch. 01

She didn't say or do anything for four or five elongated seconds, just stared at it, stunned, though she seemed to begin to shift in her seat for a couple more seconds, and then I saw a long, drawn-out shudder pass through her, consuming her for 10 seconds or so, while simultaneously a soft, but protracted groan escaped her lips.

And when that passed, she reached for it, grasping me around the base with her right hand, while her left hand reached for the two oval shaped gonads suspended in the dark, hirsute sack that held them captive. For a brief fraction of a second, I spied the glint of her diamond ring as her warm fingers tenderly touched my scrotum.

The fingers of her small right hand could not fully encircle my thickness, but then I felt her reach behind me with all four fingers on her left hand as her left thumb found the front and center of those dangling orbs and began gently kneading them between her fingers. Then, her head moved toward me, and ever so slowly and sensually, her lips enveloped just the very tip of my engorged helmet.

She had trouble getting her mouth around it, and she could do no more than to slide her pink lips to just below the very bottom of that prominent ridge -- the corona of my mushroom-shaped head, and now I groaned loudly with pleasure. She was licking and sucking the distended crown, while she began to move her hand up and down my shaft at the same time. She never stopped the flicking caresses of her left hand as she began to periodically cup my dark jewels in her palm.

After a couple of minutes, I was really close and afraid that if I reached my release I would surely ruin a good thing. Ruth was a proper lady, and I didn't think that what I knew was imminent was the right way for our lovemaking to commence.

So, I was grateful when she pulled her lips off me leaving a wet sheen of saliva glistening on my head while her right hand grasped me even harder, stroking me with greater urgency. Then she spoke again with amazement. "I've never seen anything so big! You are making me very, very excited, Marcus!"

I looked down at her from above, and now I wanted to taste her. I decided to throw her earlier question right back at her. "Ruth, can I... can I touch you?" I asked meekly, submissively, almost as if I understood that I was her gamekeeper and she was my Lady Chatterley. She didn't answer, but there was a pleading in her eyes that couldn't be inferred any other way.

What I did next was probably unwise, and I suppose it could have scared her off, but as she stood up, I grasped her around her waist with both of my hands and simply picked her up several feet off the ground -- it seemed like she weighed almost nothing -- and then I lay her down gently on her back on the top of the conference table, with her legs straddling my own as her heels dangled off its edge. I leaned forward to kiss her lips and as I did, she reached for me again with her right hand. Her other hand began to caress my face.

Unlike two months previously, there was nothing polite or gentle about that kiss. Our tongues danced and darted inside each other mouths, and I bit and sucked at her lips. All the while, she was stroking me furiously with her right hand. I was again afraid that I was about to cum, and so I moved to postpone that possibility.

I began to kiss my way slowly, but deliberately from her ears, down her neck, to her shoulders, and then through her dress and bra around her breasts -- over, under, and on top of them, until I could feel her nipples stiffening, and then, when I knew I had her really excited, further down her stomach. As I pulled farther away from her reach, Ruth could no longer hang on and released my throbbing erection from her hand. And then I leaned over and lifted her dress, and bunching it up around her waist, I exposed a pair of sheer, black pantyhose.

Now I was kissing her all over her round, curvaceous hips and thighs through that sheer hose, blowing my hot breath on her skin through that sleek encasement, and Ruth was responding with unbridled passion, writhing around on the top of the table, and beginning to emit these soft, girlish moans and then later these deeper, more guttural groans.

And then I moved my mouth to her pubic region. I think that I expected that I would be confounded by the challenge presented by her pantyhose, but then suddenly I realized that she was wearing a pair of sheer, black panties over the outside of that hose, and that her hose itself opened into graceful curves that exposed both the front, back, and outsides of her crotch and ass as four bands of the silky nylon climbed her hips to connect her sheer, black leggings to her lacy waistband.

I slipped two big, black fingers inside the other waistband, the one that held those panties in place, and pulled them outward, around her wide hips, down her legs and off, and in so doing, I exposed her crotchless hosiery, so that her wet and excited pussy and a dark, brown patch of thick, soft pubic hair were spread out in front of me for the taking.

I had never seen crotchless pantyhose before -- didn't even know that such a thing existed until that day, but I was so turned on by it, and now there was nothing stopping me, with the possible exception of Boston's longstanding social mores. Still, those standards of racial interaction didn't stand a chance when they found themselves up against the uncontrolled passions of two disparate people who'd been deprived for far too long.

I leaned in and blew my hot breath directly onto her pussy, and Ruth shuddered involuntarily, and then I began to kiss and lick my way around it, encircling her aromatic target in a counterclockwise rotation of oral play that narrowed with each go-around until, after three passes, I found ground zero and touching just the tip of my tongue ever so delicately to her tiny, pink clitoris, Ruth suddenly exploded in orgasmic bliss.

"Ohmygod! Ohmygod! Aaaggghhh! Aaaaaggggghhhhh! Aaaaaaaaaagggggggggghhhhhhhhhh! Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaagggggggggggggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!" A flood of arousal began to pour out of her gaping sex, as contraction after contraction swept through her, while she rolled her head frantically from side to side.

I tried to catch the leaking, wrapping my wide mouth from her distended pink nub at the top all the way down almost to the bottom of her fleshy opening. I buried my tongue inside her in a kind of spoon so that I could drink in her juices, and as I did, I could feel her muscles contracting and then releasing over and over again for what seemed like a long, long time. But every time I moved my mouth and tongue even a tiny fraction of an inch to remove them from her, Ruth shook involuntarily as her oversensitized trigger spasmed yet again. In consequence, I stayed where I was until her orgasm slowly waned.

As she lay back against the table with her eyes closed, disbelief decorated her face, but now she opened them, and looking across the table at me bending over between her legs, gratitude slowly stole its way onto her countenance. Finally, she spoke. "Oh Marcus, I haven't had a climax in so long, I wasn't even sure I could ever have one again, but even if I could, I would never have thought it could be so strong. Thank you!"

"Ruth, I barely touched you! I think you needed that more than you will ever know."

"You're right, but, Marcus, I think you need that release, too. I know you do. Can I finish what I started? That's only fair isn't it?" I didn't know what to say. I thought it might be kind of garish and crude of me to let her make me cum like that, but, like her, I knew it wouldn't take long, and she seemed so excited about the idea, so I abandoned my better judgment.

"Okay." I leaned forward again, and we kissed very passionately, and she wrapped her arms around my neck and let me pull her up off the table to a standing position. Then, she took over, directing the action like a seasoned Hollywood moviemaker.

"Sit back on the chair, Marcus," she said breathlessly, and when I did, she unzipped her dress in the back, and let it fall around her shoulders until her black bra made its first full appearance of the night.

Ruth dropped to her knees on the floor in front of my chair, and I reached for her breasts in her bra and pulled them each from their lacy enclosures. Her nipples were pink, puffy, and perfect, and poked out of big, wide, round areolas. I tried to lean in to suckle them, but she playfully pushed me back against the chair with her arm extended, and I fell backwards into that chair, laying there with my hips forced forward to the edge of the seat and my lower back arching upward. And then Ruth took me back into her mouth.

I hadn't lost any of the rigidity of my erection, and, in fact, I think her orgasm had made me harder than at any point in the evening thus far, but when her warm, wet lips touched my cock again, it was like a spark of electricity running through me, and I nearly came on the spot. Without intending to do so, I jerked involuntarily at the incredible sensation of her mouth on my engorged head, and when I did, I thrust farther into her mouth than I think she thought was possible.

I didn't mean to do that, but Ruth didn't balk at the sudden invasion, and now she had her entire mouth around about two inches of the tip of a massive erection. It took her a moment to acclimate to its size, but when she did, she went to work with her mouth and tongue, and my world started spinning.

I tried not to thrust into her again, but she was driving me crazy with the sensations that she was eliciting from manhood. Instead, I started squirming and writhing, arching my back as far as I could off the seat of the chair, and when she brought her hands back to my cock and balls, I knew I wouldn't last much longer.

This time she started stroking me with her left hand, while her right hand found my scrotum, and she wrapped her small thumb and forefinger around as much of the base of that dangling sack as she could. A lot of saliva was dripping down my length now, and she was using it to great effect. As she stared up at me with those big, hazel-colored eyes, I was watching the glinting sparkle of her wedding ring when, as it moved up and down the length of my wet shaft, it kept catching the fluorescent light from above the conference room table.

It couldn't have taken her more than about a minute and a half or two minutes, before I was announcing my intentions. "Ruth, I'm going to cum." I didn't know what she was wanted to do. She was a classy lady from Brookline, and, for some reason, I still felt like a poor kid from Roxbury. But at that point, the matter was out of my control, so when she looked up at me with those big eyes smiling her satisfaction, I thought she would release me from her mouth. She didn't.

Instead, I started grunting my release, "Oh! Oohh! Oooohhhh! Oooooooohhhhhhhh! Oooooooooooooooohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!" I could feel my seed filling her, as contraction after contraction from the root of my cock sent missiles of ejaculate from my balls, up that long, black shaft, until they spurted in powerful jets into her waiting mouth, but I couldn't see any of it. It was the most powerful climax of my life, and considering the 30 seconds or so of spasms that raced through me, also the longest.

Now, the smile of satisfaction on Ruth's beautiful face gave way to surprise. She hadn't counted on there being so much. It seemed to me she didn't know what to do with all of that cum, and so, when finally she opened her mouth enough to pull her lips from the dark purple head of my penis, it began to drip lewdly from her bottom lip and, because there was just so much of it, even from the corners of her mouth. Mixed as it was with her own saliva, there seemed to be gallons of it rolling like a small cataract from her open maw.

It flowed like a stream down her chin and then dripped in white rivulets onto those spectacular breasts. By the time, it was almost all gone from her mouth, the smile returned to Ruth's desecrated face, and she no longer looked the part of the proper, white, suburban housewife from Brookline.

Instead, I had changed her. Without my knowing or trying to do so, she had been transformed. Her sad, tragic life of boredom and conformity had been chased in terror from her, and in its place was passion and insurrection. There kneeling before me now was a woman of wanton desire and boundless sexual energy.

I felt badly that I had left her this way, but she clearly did not agree with my sentiments. I was about to reach to the middle of the table to retrieve the box of Kleenex, which thankfully was within arm's reach, but before I could, she put her hands of my thighs and pushed herself up, until she was standing, and now, bending toward me, so that my semen was dripping onto my upper legs, she leaned over and kissed me with unwavering passion, and I could taste the salty musk of my seed on her lips.

We kissed like that for a long time, our tongues again dancing together with a familiarity now that had been lacking in our earlier kisses. Finally, our lips disconnected, and we stared into each other's eyes. I spoke first. "Ruth, my god that was...!"

I couldn't finish my thought. The right adjective just eluded me, and despite the fact that I was a lawyer and a person who knew that the right word choice could very well decide a court case, I simply couldn't find a word that could convey all of the emotions that I was feeling at the moment.

"Cat got your tongue, Mr. Murray?" She smiled at me, and stood up straight, exposing her short, compact, but unbelievably sensual body to me brazenly, without embarrassment. Her dress and panties had fallen around her ankles, and like my pants and underwear, they lay in a heap on the floor, surrounding her heels.

She stood there, her breasts standing proudly, supported by her black bra, which held them suspended, as if in mid-air, while lakes and rivers of my milky cum decorated them as if the snow-capped peaks of the White Mountains, farther north in New England, had released them from their peaks in the warmth of a spring day, and they had flooded down its slopes to lower elevations. At the same time, her crotchless pantyhose showcased a thicket of soft, brown, pubic hair, which was wet with her juices, as it, like my cum on her breasts, glistened while it dripped garishly down the insides of her thighs.

I, too, straightened up, sat up in my chair and slid forward to edge of my seat with my dick, hanging between my legs like the fallen trunk of an old, black spruce that had once graced the slopes of Mt. Washington or some other New England peak, dangling in gaudy remembrance of its once proud stance, paying allegiance to the mountain that held it.

We were both quite a sight! Finally, my probity returned. "Ruth, you are unbelievable! The most beautiful, sensual woman I've ever known. Thank you for sharing your passion with me! But Ruth, what are we doing? What are we going to do? You and I... we... this is very nearly a dangerous thing. Us together in Boston? Now?"

She understood it all, understood the danger, the conventions that we had ignored, the years of traditions and customs and precepts that had been built over centuries, and that in one impulsive and explosive moment we had dashed against the rocks of a New England shoreline.

"I don't care, Marcus! I am a 41-year old woman, and I have spent my life caring about what other people thought, and look where it has gotten me! I am standing half naked in front of a half-naked black man, who is the only person that I've been honest with in longer than I can remember. I have been in mourning for over a year -- in mourning for a man that I no longer loved. I'm sick of living that lie, Marcus! It's just like that business that I'm about to sell. I just want to be done with all of it! Being done with all of it and raising my son are the only things that make any sense to me anymore!"

"But, Ruth, your son... Tommy?" She shook her head to acknowledge that I had remembered the name correctly. "What do you think he will say? How... how could we... how... what are you going to tell him?"

She smiled, and though the revolution had already begun, she seemed to become gradually aware now of her vulgarity and immodesty. She reached for the tissues on the table and wiped my cum from her face, neck, and breasts. She had to use at least five or six of them to clean it all up, and then she used two more to wipe up her own arousal from her pussy and legs. She left a pile of saturated tissues sitting on the table next to the box from which they'd originated.

When she was finished, she bent down and lifted her dress up those nylon-clad legs, until it surrounded her waist. Then, she tucked her breasts back into her bra with one hand, and pulled it the rest of the way up over her torso, putting her arms one by one through its short sleeves. Then, she reached behind her and zipped herself back up. Finally, she bent down again, and likewise, grasping her panties in both hands, pulled them up her legs and around her waist, so that her decency -- or what could reasonably be maintained of it while still wearing that transparent dress -- had been restored.

Then, she spoke, slowly and deliberately. "I would like you to meet him, Marcus. I think you'll like him, and he'll like you, too. What will I tell him, you ask? That is rather simple. I'll tell him that you are an attorney, the man that is helping me to sell his daddy's businesses, so that he and I can live the rest of our lives on the work that his father did for us. That's all, Marcus, and that's the truth. For now, that's all he needs to know. And what, Marcus, is wrong with that? What rests in the noble hearts and minds of all those Boston Brahmin that could possibly find that story objectionable or immoral?" She looked at me now with steely-eyed gravity.

"Nothing, Ruth. There is nothing wrong with you telling your son that story, and you are correct, I would love to meet him. I suspect you're right -- of course, I will like him. You raised him. How could I not like him?"

She smiled happily. "Good, Marcus, because there is no time to waste. I want you to meet him tomorrow. School has ended for the year, and so he leaves the day after tomorrow to go to summer camp out on Cape Cod. He'll be gone for six weeks, Marcus, and even though I have to leave now, I want you to know that I have plans for those six weeks. I'd like us to spend a lot of that time together, you and I. That is, if you want to. Maybe you don't want to -- don't want an old widow anymore after you've seen how lewd and lascivious she can be! But if you do want me or at least want me now, we will have six weeks to decide whether or not we, both of us, want something more than this, Marcus, and, if that is the case, then things will get a whole lot more complicated."

I stared at her, and thought again of that line that she had used to describe herself -- when she had told me that she was "a woman of unimpressive knowledge and skills" -- and I thought for a moment that Ruth didn't really know herself, because if she did, she would have seen right through that nonsense. "Unimpressive", my ass!

As she stood there before me staring at me with a self-satisfaction that I had never before seen in her, I became suddenly aware of my own immodesty. I realized Ruth was staring at my cock. It was not erect anymore, but it was still engorged with blood, and I remember thinking how big it looked to me, when, seeing her transfixed by it, I looked down to find it dangling off the edge of the chair I was seated in. I quickly stood up, and following her lead, I pulled up my underwear and pants, and tucked myself back in.