So… I’m easing up from posting everyday, and returning to my regular schedule. Today is Work In Progress day. In a couple of weeks my latest book will be released – Perfect Notes. It’s a tale of two lovers who need each other but are struggling with how to be together. Stefan wants to be a composer and Callie is a florist who abandoned her musical career after her father suddenly died. Can they find a way forward?
Callie is re-acquainting herself with Stefan after a brief spell apart.
Right next to my hip, his erection bulged in his pants. I rubbed my hip against it. He broke off from his canoodling kisses.
“What are you doing?” He stroked my ass then pinched my soft flesh with his fingertips.
I wriggled my bottom, trying to shake his hand free. “Preparing myself,” I replied.
He ran a finger up my spine and I shivered.
“Wow, you’re super tense.”
“I’m cold,” I retorted.
He nuzzled my hair. “Nope, tension is what I’m sensing. You thought you’d upset me, talking about my brother and me. Then, you got nervous about the boat, and now, standing virtually naked, you’ve gone all rigid.”
With his accurate summation came my caving in, a crippling loss of control. My body might have been aroused, dripping with juices and ready to be plundered, but troubled thoughts and doubts filled my mental place. I crashed against him and buried my face in his shirt. “It’s been a tough week.” I sniffled.
Stefan sighed. He released his grip and I let my arms drop to my sides.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “We’ve had great sex, but I’m struggling to take this all in. I’m a fish out of water and very dependent on you. I can’t speak the language, I have hardly any money and, yesterday, I shaved my privates for the first time in my life and I’ve no idea why I did it.”
He chuckled. “Liebling. Let me help you. Give yourself to me, and I’ll release all that tension.”
He spoke with assurance, a confidence I envied. I believed him too. With my feet still entwined by my clothing, I could do little with my legs. I wondered how he would provide that magical release. He twisted me around, allowing my feet to shuffle until I came to stand with my back to him.
“Rest on me,” he said.
His chest cushioned my head and I leaned back slightly without taking the weight off my feet. Above us, the sunbeams encroached, illuminating my pale skin and warming me. He caressed my taut belly with small circles and I closed my eyes, blocking out the bright sunshine. While his one arm remained looped under my breasts, he continued to rove, to fondle and explore with the other. He crept south on a direct course to my mound. I snatched a breath when his fingertips arrived.
He circled my mons, triggering a wave of tingles between my legs. My knees knocked together, as I battled to stem the sudden arousal.
“Relax, don’t fight it,” he whispered.
He was right. I resisted, as if an orgasm was unwanted. Why could I not give way to what my body desired? I ceased fidgeting and writhing my hips about, and opened my legs. He slid two fingers down my slit, between my folds. Slowly and gently, he glided up and down, aided by my natural secretions.
“So wet,” he muttered.
I pressed my bottom against his stiffness, still encased in his pants.
“Do you want to feel it?” he asked.
I nodded. I thought he meant his cock, but instead of releasing it, he took hold of my right hand in his and brought it across my hip to my front. He isolated two of my fingers, forming a little tool, and used his hand to direct my digits.
“Feel it.” He pushed my fingertips over my clitoris then up again, lifting the hood. My clitoris had grown—engorged and excited. I moaned, twisting my head to one side as a flurry of nerve endings responded to my own touch. Stefan guided me, set the pace and pressure using his hand behind mine. He masturbated me using my fingers. It was a huge turn-on. Every part of my body buzzed with an electric pulse.