Erica Kelly is a curvaceous and attractive woman. Randolph Carter is her well built, sexy and sensual New York boss. They have fallen for each other. As a week-long trip in LA develops, barriers threaten to prevent Erica and Randolph becoming long-term lovers. Randolph has to win new business on the trip, but he also wants to win Erica’s heart.
Erica slipped out of her dress and hung it up neatly in the closet.
With a wry shrug of the shoulders she admired her reflection as she stood in her navy underwear—the garter belt and stockings calling out to be admired by Randolph. But it was not to be. He had chosen that it would not be tonight. But when?
It was warm in her room despite the air conditioning, and she walked to the windows and pulled aside the drapes. She opened the sliding door to the small balcony, and, feeling reckless, stood outside dressed in a fashion she had reserved merely for him.
She was reassured that her balcony was quite secluded so there was little chance of her being observed, but even so she felt almost daring. She leaned on the railings and looked out over the gardens of the hotel, the pool just visible to the left. The floral scents of flower bushes from the gardens wafted up to her. There were a few subdued voices, but other than that it was quiet. It was a calm night but she was still stirred from the evening she had just spent.
Harsh, though some of the comments had been, she knew in her heart that this was only the beginning. If she was to have a future with Randolph, and she so dearly wished she was, then she could either buckle now or stand up for herself.
She wouldn’t always be able to rely on help from outside, such as Melinda or Bella. She had to “grow a pair” as her grandfather would have said, though maybe not to her. She had to toughen up or else the big bad city was going to eat her up and spit her out. Then how much would Randolph want her?
She already feared that she was an obsession that one day would lose its attraction for him. She knew enough about the ways of men, especially rich and powerful men such as him, to know that many of them would be caught up in a whirlwind of lust and desire only for that to pale as familiarity became the norm. For the moment, what they were doing with one another, discovering from each other, was new and fresh. Each time they had made love it was with a different pattern. What happened when the pattern was repeated? Would he begin to lose interest? She couldn’t bear the thought.
He had been overtaken with the need to choose a project for this trip, and she knew he had been overwhelmed when he met her. She wasn’t in any way vain and so she knew that it was sexual lust that had first commanded his attention. She knew, or at least she passionately hoped, that his declarations of love for her were as deep and heartfelt as were hers for him. Only time would tell.
She wanted them to be true—she knew they were true, didn’t she?
For now she was alone in her room and the night promised only more solitude.
She considered sitting on the balcony for a while, but she was suddenly weary.
She went back inside and shut and locked the door, pulling the drapes back into position.
With regret she unclipped the front fastening of her bra and laid it on the chair by the bed. She sat on the bed and unhooked each garter fastening on both stockings and smoothed them off her legs. They joined the bra on the chair. It would be unusual for her to sleep naked, but she felt in the mood to be different. She pushed her panties down her legs and hooked them on her foot. With a small hop and a kick she managed to get them landed onto the chair with the rest of her clothing.
“Yes,” she said softly, pleased with her successful agility.
Perhaps she should have left the drapes and the door to the balcony open because it was really warm in her room. Instead she lay down on top of the covers, nude, and closed her eyes.
If sleep eludes me, I can spend time thinking about Randolph.
But as it was, she was asleep within seconds of her switching off the bedside lamp.
* * * *
She may have been asleep for moments or it might have been hours, she had no way of telling. She awoke to ecstasy.
Or perhaps she had not woken at all. Maybe she was still in a deep sleep and this was a dream. If so, it was the most sublime dream she had ever enjoyed, and she prayed she would remember it when she woke.
She was lying on her side, facing away from the bedroom door and towards the closed drapes.
He gently lifted one ankle, and with it her foot. She felt her shoe taken off and placed to one side. Then the actions were repeated with her other foot and her stocking-clad feet sank into the rich fabric of the carpet. It was soft and comforting.
Then she felt his hands, one on each leg, stroking her ankle, gradually reaching higher, lightly caressing her skin through the nylon stockings. When the hands reached her knees she involuntarily moved her legs apart, just a little. She hoped she knew what his destination was going to be and she had no wish to put barriers in his way.
The hands roamed under the hem of her dress, the arms lifting the dress slightly as the hands and fingers stroked and teased her legs. As she felt his light touch on the flesh at the tops of her stockings, she drew in her breath and wasn’t aware how long she held it in before she released it.
He played with the hold-up elastic, running fingers underneath it, nipping her skin between two fingers and pulling it ever so slowly before letting go and continuing his upward exploration.
When the fingers of both hands reached the edge of her lace panties she thought she would collapse. She had nothing to hold onto, standing as still as possible, in the center of the room. She parted her legs even further as his insistent fingers travelled along the lace of the panties, tracing a line up her ass cheeks.
Somehow his fingers stayed in place as his palms opened and weighed each firm globe, squeezing proprietarily as he pressed her skin, fondling each buttock as if it were ripe fruit. The warmth moved away and she was sure she moaned in protest, but as his fingers delved beneath the lace edge of the panties, she relaxed. She was sure she was in good hands, literally!
* * * *
His hands fanned out under her lace clothing, the fingers pushing into her yielding flesh. Her ass felt as if he was rotating each side individually, his left hand moving anti-clockwise and his right hand going in the opposite direction. The effect was stunning. All the sensation in her body was focused on her bottom, a feature she had always considered was far too large, too wide to be desirable. Yet here was this strong and handsome man venerating her ass as if he wanted to own it.
She barely noticed when one hand moved away. The first she became aware of it having changed position was when she felt a single finger moving tantalizingly slowly along the front of her panties.
She knew she was already damp down there, but now with his insistent rubbing along the thin material, her arousal was becoming ever more apparent. The hand on her ass pulled at the seat of her panties, bringing the sheer material in a line between her cheeks, like a thong. Two fingers remained inside the material, and she felt them circling a place on her body that until she had met him she would not have considered an erogenous zone.
The hand at the front was now stroking with more speed. Two, no three, fingers were placed over the flimsy lace, and at least one of them was pushing the material inside her folds.
When another finger insinuated itself under the lace, she felt her knees sag. The finger traced a line along the outer labia lips, first one side and then the other. Her sex was quite pronounced, even when not being stimulated, but now she felt swollen with excitement. A second finger intruded inside the panties and drew a line along her wet sex, gradually parting her.
Then she felt the fingers push her folds apart, like a flower opening, and she licked her dry mouth with her tongue. The hand on her ass was removed, and she felt the front of her panties pulled aside. As one hand held the clothing so the other had full opportunity to explore. It seemed as if fingers held her open while more fingers played inside her, moving in and out of her vagina with ease, so wet with arousal was she.
She felt she needed to hold onto something, or even to lie down, but she didn’t want this attention to stop, not to ever stop.
She bent her knees slightly as he pulled her panties down her legs. As she lifted one foot and then the other to allow him to remove them. She marveled at how gentle was his touch, and yet so strong.
Open now, with no barrier between them, she was vulnerable to his every desire.