Chapter Two
The Jasmine was a Chinese restaurant with dim lighting and the best Cantonese
food in the tricounty area. As Paul ushered Sam in, she noted the décor with a
slightly dazed eye: the ubiquitous lanterns with red tassels, the painted
screens and fish tanks of slow moving koi. It was a popular spot, judging by
the full tables, but a smiling older woman guided them to horseshoe shaped
booth and gently placed menus in front of them. Paul shot a glance at Sam.
"It's a wonderful thing I know your tastes so well, Gattina. I'll order
for both of us."
Sam gave a mute nod, trying not to squirm. The seat of the booth was cool
through the silk of her dress, and a slight draft hit her legs every time that
someone walked by their table. Paul glanced briefly at the menu then closed it,
sighing.
"Are you hungry?"
Seeing his permission to speak, she nodded.
"Starving… sir—" she quickly remembered to add. Paul flashed a
wolfish grin and patted the spot next to him.
"Sit closer. I want your hip next to mine."
The waitress returned and Paul charmed her, tripping over phonetic
pronunciations and asking for chopsticks as she brought them two glasses of
wine. Sam tried not to jump when his hand slid along her thigh.
"Drink slowly."
She sipped appreciating the tang of the wine on her tongue. Paul watched her,
his fingers lightly rubbing on her leg. Sam held her breath a moment looking up
at Paul's face. In the dim light of the Jasmine it was touched with exotic
planes and angles, making him look less like a major in the Air Force and more
like a dangerous man with a shadowy agenda.
"Tesora, are you any good with chopsticks?"
"Passable, sir."
"Good. You're going to feed me."
She tensed; Paul took ruthless advantage of her surprise to slip his hand down
the inner curve of her thighs, fingers pushing them apart.
"Ohhh—" she bit back her surprise quickly.
"No spills—" he warned, just as the steaming platters of food arrived.
Giggling, the waitress set them down and smiled, handing Paul a pair of elegant
ivory chopsticks. He in turn passed them to Sam.
Concentrating, she gripped the lacquered sticks and fished for a bite of the
first dish, a crispy beef platter. Carefully Sam lifted a chunk and brought it
to Paul's lips, focusing her entire concentration on it. He nibbled.
"Good. Now your turn. A bite for me, a bite for yourself—"
Sam nodded, and as she did so, her collar flashed in the dim light. Paul
brazenly slid his hand deeper between her thighs, his cool fingers insinuating
themselves with gentle slow advances past the top band of her stockings.
It was one of the most excruciatingly intense dinners Sam had ever had. Every
move she made seemed weighted with tension, permeated by lust. Watching Paul's
tongue flick out over the proffered food made her squirm, feeling his hand
toying between her thighs left her pulse racing, and when he leaned close to
her ear Sam gasped as he growled,
"Lift your skirt up—"
Frozen, she stared at him, but he merely licked his lips and added in a low
voice, "Giallo?"
She shook her head, and with a sudden rush of brazen courage, wriggled until
the silk skirt of the dress was pooled around her hips and her bare flesh
rested against the fabric of the seat. Paul gave a low sigh of pleasure, his
dark eyes glittering when he studied Sam's slightly flushed face. His erection
throbbed and he gave a slow approving nod.
"I'm pleased. Let's talk about dessert."
Sam managed to hide her shiver and lift her chin, her big blue eyes locked on
his; for a moment nothing else existed around the two of them. Paul's fingers
raked through the soft thatch between her thighs and Sam proudly drew in a soft
quivering breath; Paul leaned closer.
"I was thinking of filling the hollow of your throat with warm caramel and
licking it off while I lean over your naked body and slowly sink my hot cock
into you." Paul added provocatively, "And if you're a good girl I
might let YOU come."
Sam bit her lip, hard.
~~~~~
The closer they got to Paul's the tenser Sam found herself. Over the course of
a few hours, her desire had tempered into a restless molten need, a need she
wasn't sure she could control for much longer.
Every sense she possessed seemed magnified at the moment, and all of them were
focused on the man toying with her. She squirmed a little until Paul pulled to
the curb outside the duplex. He slid his hand up the back of her head and
pulled her hair hard, tilting her face up. Quickly, fiercely he kissed her,
taking her breath away, his tongue tasting of green tea, the scrape of his
goatee a soft brush over her face.
"I'm going to have you, tesora, very, very soon—"
He climbed out of the car and was halfway up the sidewalk before Sam managed to
follow him on shaky legs, her heels making soft tapping sounds on the concrete.
She took the keys he handed her and unlocked the door, waiting until he'd
entered before following. The minute they were inside the foyer he grabbed her
and pushed her shoulders; she sank to her knees, moaning, reaching for his fly,
but Paul smacked her hands.
"Teeth only, Gattina—" came his impudent tone, tinged with hoarse
desire.
She leaned forward, bracing her hands on his strong thighs and closed her teeth
on the cool metal tab, tugging frantically. The process wasn't made any easier
by the hard swell of his cock bulging the fabric up against her face, but Sam
persevered and eased his zipper open, sighing as his shaft grazed against her
cheek, leaving a pearly streak there. Paul groaned, his hands coming to brace
on her shoulders.
"Fuuuuck—" he gasped drinking in the sight of her adoring blue eyes
gazing with smoldering lust up at him. Arching his hips, he brought the head of
his cock to rest on her lips, smearing it with the coral of her gloss.
"Taste—" he ordered tersely. Sam eagerly opened her mouth. Paul
stroked his cock over her tongue, groaning with pleasure at the heat of it
along the thick vein on the underside of his shaft. He fought hard to maintain
control, but so much of him simply wanted to luxuriate in this wild pleasure
and Paul indulged himself for a few long moments before forcing himself away
with a low curse.
He swung away from her and without even zipping up, slowly peeled off his coat
and dropped it, then moved to the overstuffed sofa in the living room, flicking
on a single lamp. Sam stayed on her knees in the foyer, watching him, her
slender frame trembling as she did so. Paul narrowed his eyes.
"Over here. NOW—" he barked, male hunger heavy in his voice. Sam scrambled,
moving on all fours to him, crawling eagerly. Paul threw himself on the sofa
arrogantly, thighs wide, his cock surging forth from his dark slacks. Sam
stared as he slid off his belt and draped it over his palm.
"You need a leash to go for a ride, Gattina mio—" he announced with a slightly evil smile.
Dizzy, dry-mouthed, Sam slithered over to him, and Paul looped the belt through
her necklace, gathering the ends in on hand. He yanked, pulling her face to
his.
"First though, kisses, tesora. Show me you love your master—"
Sam slammed her mouth on his, writhing with an uncontrolled joy when Paul's
arms came around her body, pulling her onto him. The thin silk dress held heat,
and shifted sensually all over her skin as she slid her tongue deep into Paul's
waiting mouth. He tugged the belt a few times just to tease her; Sam dedicated
herself to kissing the breath out of them both. She straddled him, cupping his
face to play with the goatee, her tongue wetly dueling with his until he
shortened the leash and slowly pulled her back from him with it. Sam was
breathing hard now, and loving how wild he looked, how his green eyes blazed.
"Hold that dress up and ride me—nice and slow, lover, take me in
deep—" Paul ordered. Sam rose to her knees and lifted the black silk to
her waist, reaching for the hard hot length of Paul's cock, guiding it between
her thighs which were wet with exertion and lust. Paul took her free hand and
braced it on his chest where she gripped his shirt. Slowly, slowly she lowered
herself onto him, a low delighted cry of pleasure surging out of her throat as
his shaft began to push through her velvety folds.
Paul tensed, biting his full lower lip. He chuffed a breath and Sam sank
deeper, her fingers clutching his shirt as she did so.
"Oooohhyeah! Luscious baby, ALL mine, such a good pussy you are, Gattina,
Mmmmmmm yesss—" Paul groaned, his hips thrusting up. Sam's head lolled
back and her breathing had gone fast and shallow; Paul tugged on the belt,
making the necklace jingle with a sweet musical tone.
"Pussy on a leash, good baby, ride me slow but don't come, tesora, not
yet—See us? See how fucking HOT your pussy looks taking me in?"
Sam whimpered briefly, moving in a sweet bounce as she watched, wide-eyed,
building a rhythm as their bodies strained slickly with each other, the creak
of the sofa a counterpoint to their groans and sighs.
"Ahhhhh—" Sam pleaded, the fingers of one hand digging into Paul's
chest while the other held her dress up. It fluttered with every thrust, and
the sweetly lewd sight of Paul's thick cock straining its way deep into her
sent shivers through them both.
Taking tender pity on her and barely able to hold back himself, Paul lightly
rubbed his thumb over her swollen little bud where it peeped out amid the wet
blonde curls between her stocking covered thighs.
"Time to come for me, Sam. Be a good girl and come nice and HARD, sweet
baby. I need you pulling my load out of me, come on—" he grunted, using
his other hand to tug on the belt. Sam, already teetering on the edge, tensed
for an agonizing sweet stroke down and exploded, shuddering, her spine arching
as she joyously screamed her orgasm. Paul's head rocked back and his hips
thrust hard, powerful jabs that lifted himself and Sam off the couch for a
moment as he groaned, coming deep and fluidly within her.
They slumped together on the sofa, numb and speechless, shells of themselves
with no energy or will for a long time. Sam lay quietly trembling on Paul, face
buried in the hollow of his neck, and Paul wrapped his arms around her
protectively.
Timeless moments passed, that odd intensity that made minutes into hours when
Paul finally stirred. He drew in a breath and lightly stroked Sam's spine.
"Babe?" he asked, very very softly. She stirred a little, but didn't
look at him. He tried again.
"Sam?"
She made a sound into his shirt and he kissed her hair.
"I—that—God, I don't even know HOW to begin—" he offered brokenly,
his voice deep and slow. "I'm not LIKE that. You know it. But tonight—I
saw you, and what you were ready to do for me, and it was like nothing I've
EVER had in my life!"
Sam stirred, very gently shifting her head to face him, her hair damp and
sticking out in wild angles, her blue eyes vulnerable and sweet. She smiled,
reaching out a tentative hand to his mouth and Paul kissed her fingers.
"I pleased you?" she asked in sleepy awe. Paul shuddered deeply, his
gaze looking with hers, then he closed his eyes in sheer content.
They slept, still joined.
