"Sara!" Frank called up the solid marble staircase that wound up to the landing from two directions.
"Dad's calling, I have to go," Sara pouted into her cell phone as she studied her reflection in a full-length mirror.
"Ok but I'll talk to you soon, ok?" Michael's voice melted down the phone. Sara grinned as she watched her reflection smooth out some wrinkles in her dress.
"Yes sir," Sara cheered giving her reflection a twirl.
"Bye Sara," Michael breathed with a smile, his lips nearly unable to form the words through it.
"Goodbye," she sang and hung up, throwing her phone to her bed where it landed with a bounce.
"Sara!" Her dad yelled shooting a glance at his watch.
"I'm coming!" she called back making her way to the top of the staircase. The sound of her heels clicking on the marble stairs with each step made her father look up. His breath was taken from his body as he smiled with pride. Sara wore her mother's dinner dress; a thin strapped black number that made her look just like her mother.
"Wow, you look stunning," he told her as she came to the bottom of the staircase and looped her hand through his bent elbow, resting it firmly on his arm.
"Thanks," she beamed as Frank laid his hand over hers and gave it a squeeze.
"Shall we?" he started for the door, which was opened by a tall guy in a black suit. An earpiece was pressed into his ear and the curly white wire trailed down his neck. He gave the Governor a nod and they stepped from the mansion to a waiting limousine.
"Oh dad…" she began turning to her father as another guy in a similar suit and black chauffeur's cap opened the rear door.
"I know but it's your birthday," he gave her a smile not allowing her to protest to his lavish treatment. "You deserve it," he planted a kiss to her temple and she blushed.
Sara sunk into the black leather interior and shuffled sideways allowing room for her father. Frank joined her and the door was closed for them. Sara looked around excitedly, setting her eyes upon everything in the expensively rented limo. It was carpeted inside and her heels sunk in the ruby red fibres beneath her feet. The windows were tinted black and in the already pleasant evening it was hard to see out of them.
"So, where are we going?" Sara quizzed her father as the limo set off to a given destination. Frank grinned brazenly, resting a hand on his knee.
"You'll see," he told her cryptically setting his gaze to the blackened window beside him. Sara tingled with anticipation and a wide, toothy grin spread across her face.
The car ride was short, maybe ten minutes by Sara's guessing so she had no idea where they were. The limo rocked to a stand still on gravel and she turned to her father confused. "Where are we?" She asked him with a frown, spinning around in her seat to look out the back window, her dress rubbing against the leather with a creak.
"It's a surprise," he told her, his eyes going wide at the word. He pulled a soft black scrap of material from his jacket pocket and leant across the limo to tie it around her head. "No peeking," he instructed her as he pulled the door handle and it clicked open. Sara's ears strained to hear familiar sounds but she heard nothing but the dead of night.
Frank helped her step from the limousine, her heels digging into the gravel and the lack of grip on her soles threatening to make her fall. Frank held her hand tightly and led her from the car. The night air was mild for March and Sara felt no need for her shoulders to be covered. The gravel seemed to go on forever, crunching beneath her feet as she took step after step.
"Dad…seriously…" she said a little frustrated by how her gorgeously expensive shoes were being ruined by the dusty stones.
"Step up here," Frank commanded her, lifting her hand higher when he wanted her to step. Sara's heeled clicked onto wood and her brow creased with inquisition. Frank let go of her hand and Sara felt lost as she breathed into the silence, her blood pounding in her ears with eager need to know where they were.
Something tugged on her blindfold, untying the loose knot at the back of her head. It fell from her face and Sara blinked in the darkness, her eyes connecting with the light blue of a shirt. Her head lifted slightly and her heart fluttered in her chest when she laid eyes upon Michael's smiling face.
"Michael…" she said with surprise, spinning to look between her father and the man she loved. "Dad, I don't understand," she told him with an excited, wide-eyed appearance. Michael trailed his hands down her bare arms until they met her hands and he held them in front of her.
"I told you I'd talk to you soon," he smirked with a wink. Sara inhaled with joy as Michael's thumbs traced a languid trail across her knuckles. Sara looked around them. They were in a wooden gazebo that was raised from the ground by a large step. Next to her feet was a blanket surrounded by short, cream candles burning dimly in the night, their flames flickering gently. They smelt like vanilla, her favourite scent. "Happy Birthday," He told her as her eyes met his once more.
"Oh Michael," she purred his name so taken by his gesture. Michael glanced over her shoulder at her father as he stood behind them, one foot on the gravel ground and the other resting on the wooden step. He gave Michael a nod as he made his way back to the car with his hands buried deep in his pockets, his heart whole from Sara's happiness. It didn't matter to him that she was spending her birthday away from him. To be honest, each year he was hardly ever there on her birthdays, but this year he had plotted with Michael to make this one special.
Michael tugged on her hands as the car drove from view, leaving them alone in the night. Michael knelt down on the blanket and helped her sit. "You look amazing," he commented as her dress rode up her thigh a little. The black dress she wore was knee length when she was standing and even shorter when she sat with her legs tucked under her sideways. Her smooth legs were silky as Michael laid a warm hand on them, pulling his body closer to her.
"You're very handsome yourself," she told him with a coy smile that made him laugh nervously. Sara's skin ached under his fingers as they trailed up and down her thigh lazily.
"I try," he said staring straight into her eyes, his own blue grey pools pushed half shut by a wide smile. Sara was lost in his stare, her searing inner core reacting instantly to his hand on her high. As innocent as he had made the gesture, it was driving her insane with need, just like their phone escapade.
"Michael…" Sara began dropping her gaze from his shyly. Michael dipped his head to try and follow her eyes before using his hand to tilt her chin upwards again. His eyes roamed hers asking what he needed not to in words. "I can't…." she stammered. "I'm not ready," she said softly, blushing.
Michael moved his hand to cup her cheek, her soft skin lighting his desires. "It's ok," he soothed with a gentle caress on her cheek. "I don't want you to think you have to rush into anything with me," he told her, shifting his weight on one hand so he could cup her face with both hands. "I'd never want that," he told her firmly.
Sara's embarrassment disappeared as she moved to capture his lips in a slow kiss. Michael's hands dropped from her face with one returning back to her thigh. Sara moaned into his mouth as their tongues danced and teased each other leisurely. Sara pressed a small hand to his chest; a sign of her thanks for his understanding and Michael pushed his tongue into her mouth with earnest. Sara's head tilted back as Michael leant forward, easing her back onto the blanket lovingly.
Sara knew she wasn't ready for sex; in fact the thought scared her a little. Her hair spilled onto the faux chenille blanket and Michael laid beside her leaning into her body, running a hand across her flat stomach exciting her skin under her dress. Michael's hand rested on her hip as he pulled from her mouth with reluctance, leaving her gasping.
"Are you ok?" he panted in a considerate tone as her eyes flickered open to stare up at him. Sara didn't answer but instead moved her hand to his on her hip. Michael followed her gaze, sucking in a shallow breath and he let her take control of his hand.
"Remember our phone call?" she purred into his ear as she pushed it down her thigh, over the hem of her dress and began pulling it back up under the fabric. Michael's eyes were fixated on their hands but he was unable to move or speak. He gulped hard. "Remember Michael?" she urged an answer from him, her breath hot and damp on his sensitive ear. Michael held his breath as his fingers touched the expectantly damp material of her underwear. Sara let him touch the fabric before pulling his hands from beneath her dress.
"I remember," he spluttered in swift protest, his eyes unable to focus. Sara licked her lips seductively and returned his hand between her thighs. Her eyes rolled closed and she wiggled her hips as she had done that evening.
"You asked me where I was touching myself," she breathed heavily and Michael swallowed a lump in his throat when their hands hovered above her mound. Sara reached up with her other hand and gently pulled Michael's eyes to hers. His mouth was open and his chest pushed in and out rapidly when their eyes met. "Here…" she murmured pressing Michael's finger to her nerve centre.
Michael's body reacted instantly and he began to sweat. Sara was as wanton as that night over the phone and her face contorted and she bit her lip with pleasure. Michael felt his arousal surging through his body, from his fingertips to his toes, and breathed profoundly as Sara rolled his finger around on her clitoris.
"Here…" she pushed his hand down along the underside of her underwear, tickling her insides with feather light teasing. Her fingers trembled upon his as she moved them, her stomach falling into a void and her eyes flashing with white remnants of ecstasy. Sara pulled his hand all the way back up her pubic region until they rested under the waistline of her panties.
Michael's head fell to her shoulder and his entire body tensed. He knew what was coming next and he exhaled a low grumble into her bare skin. "Sara…" he warned in an intensely erotic plea, his own vision blurred from longing. Sara inched their hands into her underwear, squeezing her thighs together as Michael's large, flat palm scraped over her nub.
"Here…" she gasped, the sound leaving her lips as nothing more than a whine. Michael's hand took over when she pulled hers from the lacy prison and he smeared her oozing juices up and down her entrance. Sara's back arched and her eyes were tightly closed, her mouth open and her breathing audible in the night.
Michael lifted his head and caught her lips in a blazing kiss as he dipped a thick finger into her slowly. Sara tensed slightly, his finger a little bigger then hers as he pushed into her agonisingly slowly. She was hot around his digit and her muscles spasmed with each thrust, pulling him deeper into her. Michael mimicked the movement of his finger with his tongue in her mouth before pulling apart, barely leaving her face.
Sara kept her eyes closed as her world spun around. Michael's lips hovered above hers and he leant forward into her, grinding his erection into her thigh. "You like that?" he breathed dirtily, his panting heating her face as he repeated his words from their last interaction. It had been too long and Michael was impatient. "You want two Sara?" he hissed through ground teeth as he pushed another digit into Sara's tight, hot centre.
Sara nodded with a bruising lip between her teeth as he pushed into her again. His fingers slid in and out easily after a few thrusts and her body pushed air from her lungs in time with his assault. Sara pulled Michael's face to hers again, groaning into his mouth and bucking against his hand wildly.
Michael slid his lips from hers and trailed his scorching hot tongue down her velvety soft neck. Sara's body twisted in response to both his tortures until, to her distaste, he withdrew his fingers from inside her. Her hand fell onto her forehead as her climax faded away but her skin stayed electrified as Michael kissed his way down her body over her dress.
His hands were on her thighs, gripping into her milky skin as he nestled himself between her legs. He kissed over her mound, each and every nerve ending she had yearning for his attention. He planted a wet kiss to the inside of her thigh before copying the action on the other. Sara's hand tangled itself in his hair and she whimpered on the blanket.
Michael roughly pushed her dress up around her waist and hooked his fingers into the waistband of her dripping wet panties. Sara sucked in a breath when the cool night air attacked her intense heat as Michael slid her underwear down, exposing her to his view. He pulled in his own desperate breath at her sight and paused, looking up to her drowsy expression.
"Sara…" he teased, puffing his breath onto her already excited nerve hub. Sara's eyes rolled open and met his. "I can stop if you want me to," he told her, trying desperately to mean it as she played with the hair on his neck.
"Don't you dare," she smirked and he dived into her essence hungrily. Sara's body tensed once again as her orgasm approached quickly, Michael's hands already having done most of the work. Her bottom lip quivered as she fought it off, wanting to feel his talented lips sucking on her clitoris and his muscular tongue lapping at her cordial liquids for longer. Forever.
"I'm going to come Michael…" Sara sighed with a high-pitched squeak as she bunched the nearby blanket into her fists. Michael's tongue wiggled against the ridges of her forbidden territory, pulling her closer to her climax. Sara's hand gripped at Michael's hair, not wanting to leave her unattended for a second. "I'm coming…" she screamed and shuddered beneath him.
Michael sucked at her pink flesh greedily, lapping up every last drop of her nectar. Sara panted hard, her forehead sweaty and her chest heaving as she floated back to earth, her core still twitching with faint remnants of her orgasm. Michael crawled up her body and took her mouth in his, his groin straining in his pants. He didn't mind though because this night was about Sara and it would be selfish of him to expect anything.
A whine escaped Sara's lips when she tasted herself in Michael's mouth, the whole experience more erotic than she could ever of imagined. Michael smiled at her response and it infectiously caused Sara to smile against his lips. Her eyes opened first and she coaxed Michael's open with a tender caress to his cheek. They separated, smiles still spread across their unashamed features.
"I don't remember that happening over the telephone," she joked with a raised eyebrow. Michael let out a hearty laugh and their chests bumped together with the movement.
"That…" he started brushing a strand of her auburn hair from her hazel eyes with a grin. "Was the icing on your birthday cake."