It had been a dismal day in this small town. I had just finished closing up the cafe after the last staff member left. I
walked slowly to my vehicle oblivious of my surroundings. I unlocked the door, sat down, and inserted the key into the ignition. I paused, lost in thought about my recent acquaintance with that journalist from a magazine here in town. I found it hard to believe through his innuendos that he was actually interested in me. My recent falling out with my former partner and would-be lover had left a bitter taste in my mouth and feelings of paranoia about the opposite sex. But here he was, this tall, raven-haired, and very sensual man making advances towards me. Maybe my luck was changing.
I started the engine and was about to put the car in gear when the ringing of my cell phone stopped me. I answered and it was Deniel, the journalist. He asked me if I was free for a few hours. I said "of-course I am". He gave me directions to a small, secluded resort on the outskirts of town called Whispering Pines. It consisted of a few ivy and moss covered cabins built back in the 1950s. It was the perfect spot for a rendezvous.
As I drove off to meet him, the anticipation began to mount. I really didn't know what to expect. Maybe he only wanted a quiet place like that to be alone and talk. Fourteen minutes later found me pulling up to cabin # 9 and parking next to his sedan. He was already in the room and opened the door as my car approached the cabin. I got out of the car and felt giddy as I walked towards him full of expectations. He drew me into his
strong embrace as he closed the door with his foot. So much for the lilting conversation theory.
His arms enfolded me like a glove and I felt his heart racing as I laid my head upon his chest. He reached up with one arm and tugged my chin upwards and I felt his lips brush mine. His scent was intoxicating. His tongue flicked until it had reached its mark and met mine in a duel of passion. His hot breath was coming in a series of small gasps as his fever mounted. We slowly began to undress each other. Memorizing each other's bodies with each touch of our fingertips. The tip of his tongue began tracing a hot brand from my neck to my now erect nipple. He licked and nibbled each nipple in turn until I thought I would explode with passion. Just when I thought I could stand it no longer, he began to bite the tips of each in turn. I began groan and my knees became weak. He scooped me up in his strong arms and carried me to the bed. He gently laid me down on top of the quilt. The tongue safari began again, this time even more ardent than before. He slid down farther on my body and I felt as if I was on fire with every touch. It was getting harder and harder to breathe. Deniel's tongue was working its magic. It began inching its way down my torso, past my navel, and on towards my womanhood. With his burning hands he slowly spread apart my thighs. I was wet with desire. After what seemed like hours of foreplay, he began to mount me. I clamped my thighs together. I was not ready to feel him inside of me just yet. I needed to taste of his flesh first. I pushed him aside and positioned myself across his thighs.
I began to nibble his ear lobes and to gently blow in each of his ears. He began to squirm. His manhood was rising and swelling with desire. I slowly began to trail the tip of my tongue down his neck and onto his chest. I nibbled gently at each of his now erect nipples. I slid down his thighs as my tongue traced an imaginary line to his navel. The soft downiness of his hair tickled my cheek. His strong hands, hot with craving, kneaded my shoulders. A small whimper escaped his lips. He grabbed my breasts gruffly and I became instantly wetter. My mouth hungrily searched and found what I longed for. I took the entire length of his manhood in my mouth up to the hilt. He arched his back as he held my head in position.