AN: And so our saga finally continues. I swear, my summer was eaten by the dog, and I don't even have a dog.

#14 in Autumn and my ping-pong story saga. For the first 13 stories, please see either of our profiles.

PS - This really is solid M material.

#

I shift my eyes to the floor, searching for the right words. "I was trying in earnest to…"

"Ben…"

"…give you something in the way of…"

"Ben…"

"…this getting to know each other thing that you…"

"Ben!"

"What?" I turn to my right to find Kate just inches from my face. It takes me just a moment longer to register the fact that she is leaning over me and her hand is rubbing my leg, making its way up the inside of my thigh.

"Shut up," she whispers, pressing her mouth to mine.

The part of me that was angry with her mere moments ago was smart enough to realize that my anger was now moot.

I smile. "Mmm?"

She pulls away for a moment to whisper, "Do. Everything." She watches me, waiting for my understanding.

I realize that I'd been misreading Kate since we first met. She'd wanted more, she was just used to pushing people away. Everyone away.

Just like I do.

It's how we protect ourselves.

She leans forward again to kiss me, so I reach for her and pull her down onto me. Her hand settles onto my thigh for balance as she rests her other hand on my shoulder, her yellow dress straining at the hem, highlighting her amazing curves.

I return her kiss, feeling her lips soften as she sighs into my lips. I run the fingertips of one hand gently along the deep neckline of her dress until I hear her breathing catch. When my fingers reach her cleavage, she gasps. I repeat with the other hand, starting from her cleavage, tracing the edge of the dress back to her neck. A soft moan escapes her mouth. Running my hands down her body, I slide her dress up a few inches. Kate, free from the tightness of the dress, settles onto my lap then wraps her hands around my neck.

"Benny," she whispers.

"Mmmm?" I ask, and she places my hands at the dress's hem. She reaches up and tugs her dress upward. I help her slip the dress off, my hands caressing soft skin and black lace as they glide over her thighs, the curves of her ass, and, finally, her back.

As much as I've imagined this moment, it's nothing like I'd expected, her dark honey-colored skin so soft and so close. I trace the bottom of her ribcage with the back of a finger, and her breathing hitches. I run my fingers delicately over her, watching the muscles ripple underneath, watching her breathing change, watching her become more aroused. She whimpers softly, craving more.

Her nipples poke at her black lace bra, and my thumbs slide upward to tease them. She smiles knowingly and reaches around, unfastening her bra. I take the straps and slide them slowly off her shoulders, setting each of her breasts free. Kate's got the faintest tan line from a rather daring bikini top, which makes me wonder where she wears her suit and what it looks like. After setting her bra next to us, I trace the tan line with my fingers. She raises an eyebrow flirtatiously, then flings her bra onto the couch. Kate leans in, nestling a nipple into my waiting mouth. At some point, I'd just started staring, and she chuckles knowingly at my expression.

I tease one breast with my hand and the other with my tongue. She leans into me slightly and laces her fingers through my hair. Her skin warms underneath my touch and her breathing becomes shallower. A soft moan escapes her mouth as her fingers rake through my hair, sending chills down my body.

I slide my right hand between her legs, moving her panties aside, sliding a finger slowly into her warm, wet, depths.

She releases my hair suddenly, and I look up. She smiles down at me, moves my invading hand, shimmies her black lace panties down her legs as far as she can, then looks into my eyes. "Take me." There's a moment of sadness in her eyes, fear from times before when she wanted me and I refused, but then her confidence takes over, knowing I won't refuse her this time. Not now.

I smile at her. She straightens up and leans up against me, her abdomen against my face. I take her hint, scrunching down to adjust my height to hers, kissing and licking my way down to her moist, beckoning folds as she writhes. I slide my finger back where it belongs, stroking her slowly as I tease her with my tongue.

She wraps her hands around my head, sighing softly. I slide my left hand up to recapture her breast, slipping a second finger into her, finding the right spot that makes her moan. She alternates between pressing forward for more pressure on my tongue and pressing backward for more pressure on my fingers, and I tease her by making her pick and choose.

She moans in frustration then nudges me forward, closing the gap between my mouth and hand. My left hand rolls her hardened nipple in my fingers as my tongue circles her clit. Her breathing changes again as she thrusts against my tongue over and over, my fingers pressing against her in the reverse part of her thrusting.

She tenses up, and her body feels like a live wire. I press a tidge more with my fingers, and she starts to quiver in anticipation. I smile as I feel her start to come apart, her hands guiding my face to increase pressure on her clit.

"That feels so-" She's too distracted to finish her sentence. Her breath stops, then starts again, then she throws back her head and moans, "Bennnnnnnn" as she convulses around me. I slide my left hand around her to support her as her orgasm keeps going, waves of contractions around my fingers as Kate writhes against my tongue as my fingers continue penetrating her, backing off ever so slightly on the pressure when she becomes too sensitive.

I bring her down from her orgasmic high slowly, and she slides back into my lap as I slide my fingers out of her. She looks into my eyes, brushing my hair away from my face. I return the gesture, then hold her close.

"I always knew you could do that well," she said. She looks down at my shirt, covered with her juices, and laughs.

I smile, but don't say anything, choosing instead to kiss her tenderly before scooping her up in my arms and standing. Kate squeals with delight as I carry her into my bedroom, removing her dangling panties before setting her gently on my bed.

"Wow, I really did make a mess, didn't I?" she asks.

She pulls me toward her and unbuttons my shirt, which I then pull off and toss into the corner while she tackles my belt. I coil it up, setting it on the nightstand. Kate's already got me half unzipped, and I groan relief when she pulls my jeans down far enough that my cock is no longer painfully bound within.

"Mmmhmm," I reply, removing my jeans, shoes, and socks. I stand before her in my navy silk boxers.

She strokes my cock through the silk a few times, then slides my boxers down so she can grab me. I'm about to slide my boxers off when she leans forward, grabbing my cock with her right hand, and slides it slowly into her mouth.

I touch her head reverently as she takes me inside her, knowing exactly how to use that tongue of hers. I'm momentarily struck with envy over how much her ex must have experienced her skilled tongue, then I remember she's blowing me, not him.

Just thinking about her here, spending the night, knowing what will come later is enough to send me over that precipice.

"Katie," I whisper, pulling away to avoid coming in her mouth without her okay. She reaches her left hand around, grabbing my ass, pulling me forward. She knows what's happening, and she wants it. She wants me. I relax and give into her, stroking her wild hair as the waves of pleasure overtake me.

I pause, looking down at her, and she withdraws slowly, carefully licking me clean. She looks up, eyes relaxed. I gently push her back onto the bed and slide next to her, wrapping my arms around her.

I smile, wondering if the time is right.

"What?" she asks, her eyes seeking over my face, trying to figure out what I'm thinking.

"May I speak now?" I tease.

Katie grabs a pillow from behind her head and thwaps me.

#

We both awaken uncharacteristically late Saturday morning. I'd lost count of her orgasms somewhere in the middle of the night, and I'd had several myself.

Kate turns toward me, putting a hand on my bare chest. Her hair spills over her face, and I brush the wild wavy strands of her hair back with my fingers.

"Why didn't you ever give Carrie the letters you wrote?"

I sigh. I never told my mother the whole truth. It was easier to lie and say I'd never sent them. "I did."

Her brow creases in puzzlement. "So how come your mother has them?"

I look at her, not wanting to answer. It's a painful moment from my past.

"Oh," she says softly. But it's not an unpleasant sound, not a rejection, not what I feared at all.

I sigh. "One day, Carrie brought me all the letters I'd written her. She told me she had a boyfriend, whom she later married, and she had to give them back."

Kate reaches up and strokes my hair. "No woman saves love letters unless she cares, Ben."

I pull back slightly and stare at her. I had been so humiliated by the rejection, I'd never thought about why Carrie might have kept the letters. I only had focused on why she'd returned them to me. If anything, now I was more confused than before.

"Remember the football player client of yours? Who sent Lauren flowers?"

"Yeah?"

"What did she do with the flowers?"

"Threw them in the-" I say, then I get Kate's point. "Oh."

She chuckled. "You're really no good at this, are you?"

"Huh?"

"Seducing women." She flushes, then clarifies hastily, "You're great once you get into the sack. But getting here? Not your strong suit."

Kate's more correct than I'm willing to admit. My fingers trace the curve of her shoulder, then follow the curve of her side down to her waist. "Since I am here..."

She laughs. "Are you going to let me read those letters?"

"You mean, when I visit my parents?"

"Yeah. Soon, right?"

"Tomorrow evening. I go every Sunday for dinner unless I'm out of town on a case." My meandering fingers have teased her side into slight goose bumps, but she's not letting me off the hook.

"I'm coming with you."

I stiffen, for this has often been the kiss of death for my budding relationships. Yet, I sense it's important to Kate, especially given that her parents have both died. "You can come with me on one condition."

"What's that?"

"You stay with me the entire weekend. You want to get to know me? See it all."

She swallows hard and doesn't answer for a full minute.

I lift an eyebrow in inquiry.

"Okay," she concedes.

"Don't sound so enthusiastic," I snark.

"It's not that," she says, tracing a finger lazily across my chest. "Not you, I mean." She sighs.

I wait.

"One of the things I've really begun to look forward to on weekends is quiet time. And, while I obviously enjoy your company, it's not something you're best known for."

"Okay. Why 'begun to look forward to'?"

"Because I never got that kind of time with Justin. There were always places to be seen, people to meet, his large family to spend time with..."

"Did you feel bowled over?"

"Yeah. And sometimes I feel that with you, too. Especially when you push."

I frown. "Essential job skill, I'm afraid."

"Tell me about it. I can be that way too."

"I hadn't noticed," I deadpan.

She laughs and shoves me back onto the bed. "I'll show you pushy."

And so she did.

#

Sunday morning, we stop by Lauren's when she'll be out so we can get Katie some fresh clothes for later.

"So what should I wear to meet your folks?" She holds up a dressy blouse and slacks, ones that would be perfect for the office.

"More casual, Katie."

"I thought we were going out to dinner." She bites her lip.

"We are."

"But?" She's pressing again, and I resist the urge to get defensive.

"Katie, my dad's a plumber. They don't do dress up except for their anniversary."

"What are you going to wear?"

"A polo shirt and jeans." And, well. She'll find out about the car later.

"And your $1500 reindeer loafers?"

"Uh, no."

"So what shoes *are* you going to wear, Benny?"

"My trainers probably, why?"

"I want to know what shoes to wear."

I sigh. There's no way around this one. I have to give her time to really figure out what to wear and to go shopping if she wants. If she doesn't feel as comfortable as possible, she won't want to go again. "And then I'm going to put on my bowling shoes."

She looks at me in surprise. "You're going bowling?"

I clear my throat. "My folks and I go every Sunday night. You're welcome to bowl with us."

"You. Go bowling."

I resist the fifteen rude retorts that come to mind. "I do."

She sits back and laughs. "This I gotta see."

I smile at her and raise an eyebrow in curiosity.

She looks at me for a moment, then asks, "Who wins?"

I look down. "I, uh, I always let my mother win."

Kate laughs so hard she starts coughing. "Oh, I can't miss seeing this. I'm so going bowling with you and your folks."

So help me, I'm terrified.