Amanda Ch. 2byChicago Bob©
This chapter is a direct continuation of 'Amanda.' If you have not yet read the introduction, I strongly recommend that you do. It's about the character development.
Thanks to all of you who sent feedback regarding chapter one. I am both flattered and surprised by the positive reception 'Amanda' has received.
Finally, please remember this is a love story, not a sex story. I'm trying to be erotic. I'm just not too sure how good I am at it.
Part I - Good morning.
I awoke twice during the night, once with my arm around Amanda, and once with her arm around me. Both times happily confirmed that I wasn't dreaming.
The third time I opened my eyes I was alone in her bed.
Sunlight poured through the window and I looked at the digital clock on the nightstand: 10:07.
I couldn't remember the last time I had slept this late. I climbed out of bed, scratched my crotch, and went looking for Amanda. I found her in the kitchen. She was facing the counter, her back towards me, doing something with a coffeepot.
She was naked except for a pair of slippers, the toes of which were made to look like cow's heads. With them on, she presented quite a picture. Her long blonde hair was mussed, but always beautiful, and her skin showed the outline of a bikini. From where I stood, I could tell the bottoms of hers were full backed. Again, I was impressed with her broad shoulders, narrow waist, and cute little tush, which she scratched absent mindedly, while I was watching her.
She turned quickly, "Oh!"
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you."
She relaxed and leaned against the counter, "It's just that I'm not used to having anyone here. Good morning, to you. How did you sleep?"
She walked toward me, smiling radiantly. I met her half way and we embraced.
Now, I know that many people think an embrace and a hug are the same thing. Well, I am here to tell you nothing could be further from the truth. A hug is a happy face that says, 'Hi there, nice to see you.' Hugs are for the minor leagues. An embrace, on the other hand, shares feelings, it communicates emotions, and it combines souls. An embrace plays in the majors, and wins pennants.
Our embrace was a World Series embrace, and as we were both naked, it was a Series winner.
When we separated I said, "I didn't plan to spend the night here and I need to borrow a toothbrush. I hate to be pragmatic, but I would feel much better about being close to you if I could."
"Oh, of course. I have some."
I followed her to the bathroom and she pulled out a brand new, still in the wrapper toothbrush. It was one of three in the drawer.
"I use an electric, but I keep these, just in case."
"Yeah, but these all have blue handles. Don't you have something in red? I like red."
She was leaning against the door jam, with her arms crossed under her breasts, her weight on one leg.
"Don't start with me. You've been up less than five minutes and you're starting." She was grinning. "You may have had your tongue in my vagina last night, but that doesn't give you the right to make fun of the oral hygiene products I choose to keep in my apartment."
"You're right. Now go away and give me some privacy. Just because you had my cock in your mouth last night doesn't mean you can watch me brush my teeth, and things."
"So sensitive." She went into the bedroom and closed the door.
I did what I had to do and joined her. She was lying on the bed, head propped up on a folded pillow. She patted the mattress by her side.
I lay next to her, on my side. "Are you thinking good thoughts?"
Amanda rolled on her side to face me. She was suddenly serious.
"I'm thinking I'm happy you're here. I'm thinking that waking up with you in my bed was wonderful. I'm thinking I am a lucky girl to have found you."
Then she grinned, "And, I'm thinking of having that tube bronzed. If it hadn't been for that silly flat tire, we wouldn't be here.
"And I'm also thinking of making love to you."
She leaned closer and we kissed. She reached between us and softly stroked my rapidly hardening penis.
She whispered in my ear, "I want to be on top."
I rolled onto my back and she straddled my hips. Taking me in her hand, she guided the head of my now very hard cock to the entrance of her sex. It took only a moment for her to move it between her lips and settle her body onto mine. I was inside her once more, and it was divine.
I reached up to touch her breasts, but she took my hands in hers and put them on the tops of her thighs.
"I want to feel you inside me with no distractions. I want to feel your penis moving in my vagina, and I want to watch your face and see your expression when you climax."
I looked into her eyes and said, "Kiss me first."
Amanda bent forward and supported herself on her hands. She lowered her head and kissed me softly. It was more a caress than a kiss. Then she pulled away.
"You can help by moving, but please let me do this for you this time."
She started to stroke me with her vagina, moving her hips up and down in a slow steady rhythm. I closed my eyes and reveled in the pleasure she was giving me.
She increased the speed of her movement a little at a time and I started to rise up to meet her downward motion. I was getting close much faster than I would have thought. Just being with her was stimulating. Being in her was exciting.
I looked at her, "You are such a turn-on to me, if you don't slow down a little I am going to cum very soon now."
"Does this help?" She rotated her pelvis, increasing the friction on my cock.
"You are a good woman, Dr. Blake, a very good woman."
I pushed up into her and climaxed.
"Ummmmm, this is good. You are an enchantress."
I raised my hips off the mattress as I came, trying to get as far inside her as I could. Only our pelvic bones, crushed together as they were, prevented deeper penetration.
I slumped back onto the bed, breathing hard and fast.
"Wow. I have now seen the face of ecstasy. You really liked that, didn't you?"
I swallowed and answered. "Full marks in 'bedside manner' for you Dr. Blake."
She bent lower and kissed me hard, then sat up straight. "That was awesome. I felt so many different feelings, all at once. You inside me, the physical pleasure. The emotions generated by having you inside me, wanting you to be there, while seeing how much you were enjoying being in me. I felt power. Power to please you. The power of control. It was great!"
I was smiling up at her, knowing exactly how she felt. She was right. Sex was power, the power to give pleasure, or to deny it. I wondered if she also realized that the positive use of that power was love, while the abuse of it was something akin to hate.
"There is one thing we need to discuss, now that we've had intercourse twice, and we are both educated, informed adults. Are we making babies here?"
"No, silly. I'm on the pill. Been on it for over fifteen years." She saw the question in my expression. "I had irregular periods, with terrible cramping. With the pill I work like clockwork and the cramping is minimal, if at all."
"I didn't think you would ride bareback without protection, but I had to ask. I should have asked last night. I'm sorry I didn't. I apologize."
She kissed me and said, 'You're sweet, but there are two of us here so don't think you have to take care of everything.
"What's the best way for us to separate?"
"Just climb off?"
"If it's like last night, it'll run out and get all over everything."
She rose up slowly and I was reluctantly separated from her. When I was out, she held her position above me.
"Not too bad. I can feel a little starting to run down my leg." She grinned at me and added, "I like all this. Am I naughty?"
"You're wonderful, and I think I can smell the coffee."
"Aha, the coffee."
She rolled off, over, and up in one fluid motion and was on her way to the bathroom.
Water ran and she was back with a cloth for me, another between her legs, like last night.
"If you keep coming over, I am going to have to get more facecloths. We're going through them like hotcakes."
We cleaned up and I put on my boxers on the way to the kitchen. Amanda lingered behind and when she joined me she was wearing a little blue piece of fluff, with a bikini panty. The cow slippers were on her feet.
I poured two cups of coffee and asked, "Like blue?"
She grinned, "A little."
She chopped up a coffeecake to go with the coffee, and we sat on stools at the counter.
I looked at the cake and said, "I can see why you didn't become a surgeon."
"I think I understand now. You don't start, you never stop."
"It must be genetic. I've tried to stop, but I never seem to last make it more than a few hours."
We chatted about everything and nothing for about a half-hour. She ate two thirds of the cake and we each had three cups of coffee. They were small cups.
When there were only crumbs between us, Amanda asked, "How much of you can I have today?"
"Quite a bit, if you want. I have a few things to do this afternoon, but I should be finished by, say, 5:00 o'clock. Do you want to go out to dinner?"
"No, I want to stay in, fix something for you, or order delivery. How about Giordano's? They deliver and they have salads and other stuff, too."
She licked her lips and smiled, "Deep dish, stuffed spinach pizza, hot and tasty."
"That'll be great. You didn't have anything to drink last night. Should I pick up a bottle of wine, or something?"
"No, I don't drink. I've got the soda water, and tea and coffee, and skim milk. If you want anything else it's up to you."
"OK, I'll be back at five. If anything delays me, I'll want to call, so you should give me your number."
She did and I found my cloths in the living room, where I had kicked them aside last night.
At the door I asked, "Anything special you want for tonight?"
She was standing close to me, and she embraced me. With her head against my shoulder she whispered, "I want you to touch me."
Part II - My afternoon
I retrieved my coat from the doorman on the business side of the building and then worked my way through the lobbies to the residential side. Nobody commented on my wrinkled shirt of slacks, but Adam, the doorman on the apartment side, gave me a quizzical look.
I answered his question with, "One of the best nights of my life."
He was grinning at me as the elevator doors closed between us.
Once home, I took a quick shower, postponed a shave, and was on my way to my car within a half-hour.
The first stop was the florist's. I had two dozen long stem red roses and a vase delivered to Amanda's apartment. On the note, I wrote, 'I looked, but nothing in blue.'
My second, third, fourth, and fifth stops were dedicated to tracking down large, long-stemmed strawberries. I found them at Whole Foods, up on North Ave. While at Whole Foods, I also bought the light brown sugar and the sour cream to go with the strawberries.
As I was pushing my cart towards the check out area, I walked by the ice cream freezer. I thought of Amanda's taste for chocolate, and I picked out a box of Haggan Das ice cream bars, chocolate ice cream covered with dark chocolate icing. I had an idea.
Errands completed, I was back in my apartment by 3:30 PM. I scanned the channels to see if there was anything good on the TV. There wasn't, so I fired up the CD player and set it to shuffle mode. The Beatles came from the speakers, singing 'I Want To Hold Your Hand' and I puttered around doing the things single guys to on a Sunday afternoon, while they wait for a date with an angel.
Part III - Pizza and So Much More
I arrived at Amanda's door at the appointed hour. I was showered, shaved, and dressed in blue shirt, tan slacks, and brown loafers. I was also wearing my only pare of blue boxers. I carried the supplies in a cloth bag.
Amanda opened the door and threw her arms around my neck and kissed me hard on the mouth.
"Welcome. Come in." Then, "What's in the bag?"
I grinned at her and said, "Beware of Greeks bearing gifts."
"You're not Greek."
Then looking at her, "Wow! You look great. Did you change your mind? Are we going out after all?"
She was wearing a black, baby doll dress with a square, low cut neckline, and an empire waist. It had a full flowing skirt that ended about four inches above her knees. As she twirled around for me to get a better look, the skirt flared out nicely. There were seams on the back of her black stockings. Like last night she wore black high-heel pumps, but tonight's pair had what looked to be four-inch heels. She took my breath away.
"We're staying in, as planned. Can't a girl dress up a little for her favorite fellow?"
"Yes she can, and her favorite fellow very much appreciates her efforts."
Amanda looked me in the eye and grinned a lustful, almost wicked grin, "You ain't seen nothing yet."
She followed me into the kitchen and I set the strawberries, sour cream, and sugar on the counter. I put the Haggan Das bars in her freezer.
Together we put the food in serving dishes and the serving dishes on a tray. We added napkins, along with glasses of soda water, and carried our appetizers into the living room.
"Did you see your flowers? They are just lovely. Thank you so much."
I had, but hadn't said anything. She had replaced the dried flowers, in the vases on the speakers, with the roses I had sent.
Amanda set the food and drinks on a wooden TV tray and positioned the tray between the love seats. We sat side by side, on the same seat this time.
Now, if you ever want to impress a special friend with your culinary prowess, but you don't want to cook, do the strawberry thing. You have to search out the largest, ripest, juiciest strawberries to achieve the maximum effect, but this little treat is so powerful, even lesser strawberries will make a positive impression.
What you do, is dip the strawberry in the sour cream, and then in the brown sugar. Then you take a bite, holding your hand beneath your mouth to catch the juice from the strawberry as it drips off your chin. Not only is it a taste sensation, the biting and the dipping and the juice catching can be sensuously erotic. Try it sometime.
Amanda and I powered down a half dozen berries before we sat back and relaxed. She turned toward me and leaned against the arm of the seat, putting her legs, crossed at the ankles, across my knees.
"I want to ask you a couple of questions. As much as I enjoy being with you, there are some things I need to know."
'Oh, God,' I thought, not the, 'where is our relationship going?' already kind of thing.
Let me tell you, I was surprised when she asked, "Am I behaving like a slut? Am I coming on to you too fast? This is all new to me, you know that, and I was just thinking here I am, all dressed up and maybe you think I'm more of a whore than a friend."
She was being serious and I knew she wanted a serious response. This was a sensitive moment, and a sensitive subject.
"No, I wouldn't say you were acting like a whore. I think your behavior would be better described by the term 'brazen hussy.'"
She didn't move her legs, but she crossed her arms under her breasts, and frowned at me.
"Amanda, let me be perfectly frank. Your enthusiasm about our budding relationship is flattering. So far, I like everything about you, and I wouldn't change a thing between us. No, actually, that's not true. I would cut the first month down to, say, three days."
I started to caress her legs with my right hand, reaching to the hem of her dress and then returning to her ankles.
"OK. I'm just enthusiastic about the prospects between us. I know the odds of us lasting forever are next to nothing, we hardly know each other. I even admit that a good part of my motivation to be with you is lust. Maybe your being my first puts you on a pedestal for me, and I'm acting like a little cheerleader chasing the quarterback. Well, I don't want to act like that, and I want you to tell me if I do."
"Let me tell you what I like in a woman. Physical good looks are important, I admit that even at the risk of sounding 'male.' But more important than beauty, to me at least, are intelligence, independence, and resourcefulness. I am not looking for a woman to take care of me, to cook and clean for me, to replace my mother. I want a partner, an equal partner. I may marry my partner, that would be nice, but it's the partnership that counts for me.
"On many levels, my initial impression of you is that you are unabashedly qualified as a potential partner. And your up front willingness to let me know what you want is more than refreshing, it's something I cherish. How does the song go? 'Don't change a hair for me, Now that you care for me.' Well, don't.
"And while I'm on my soap box, is there anything else you want to know about me, old girlfriends, old marriages, old separations, pending divorces, things like that?"
"You're starting with me, aren’t you?"
"I thought I never quit."
"No, I don't have to know any of that stuff. You can tell me what you want about your past loves, I would be lying if I said I wasn't curious, but I won't be jealous of your past. As the movie title goes, 'That was then, this is now.'"
We leaned toward each other and kissed.
"What's on the agenda for tonight. I didn't bring any movies or anything, although I do have a little something in mind for dessert.
"What about the touching comment?"
"Yes, that. It's simple, I want you to touch me. I want you to undress me, caress me, and love me. I want to just lie still and experience your touch. It's something I have never had, and something I have missed, terribly.
"Being an ice queen means you miss out on a lot. Being an ice queen is lonely, and I don't want to be lonely anymore."
I smiled at her, "I'm right across the street."
The lobby phone rang and she jumped up to answer it.
"Our dinner has arrived. He's on his way up."
I reached into my pocket for some bills.
"No, you don't. I invited you to dinner. Equal partners, remember?"
"OK, where do you want to eat?"
"I'll set out some stuff in the dinning room, you pay the guy." She handed me some bills.
"That gives the appearance that I'm the host."
"Appearance isn't always important. Reality is."
She just gets better all the time!
As you probably know, Chicago is famous for deep-dish pizza and there are hundreds of places making it. For my money, however, the choice is between three places, well two actually. Pizzeria Uno and Pizzeria Due are really one place, owned by the same guy. It's only my opinion, but between these two, I would recommend Due's.
Giordano's is my other favorite choice. The pies they make in their restaurant are fantastic. They also deliver.
Amanda had ordered a large, deep-dish, stuffed spinach pizza and a green salad. The salad was substantial, easily enough for four. But the pizza was definitely the main attraction. I have never actually weighted one, but they must be over five pounds. They are over an inch thick with crust, cheese, spinach, cheese, and sauce. The most I have ever eaten in one sitting is two slices, and that was without salad.
Amanda ate a huge plate full of salad and two pieces of pie like it was a warm up for the real thing. Between us, we had finished half the pie. As she was reaching for her third piece I reminded her about dessert
"Oh, OK. I'll put the rest away. We can snack on it later. You're right, I shouldn't make a pig out of myself so early in the partnership." She daintily wiped her lips with her napkin.
I laughed, "You have the manners of a lady and the appetite of a linebacker."
"I told you I eat like a horse. Why is it you never believe me?"