A Knock At The Door Ch 01

She had had a meeting away from home, and he planned his meeting away from home. It just so happened that they both planned their meetings in Atlanta. Atlanta's strategic flight hub made it an easy accommodation. She had insisted that since her conference would begin during the day before he arrived that she would wait for him in her room that evening. His flight landed at the rush hour and with the shuttle service being what it is, he arrived at the hotel around 7:45 pm.

He had stopped downstairs and there was an envelope waiting for him... with her room number, which she had written for him. His first temptation had been to have coffee in the coffee shop and let her size him up before she would move forward, but she had been insistent. "After all, I have seen you naked!"

He coughed with nervousness out side her door and then with trembling hands he knocked.

He heard stirring in the room and wondered... it was so damned awkward just standing in the hall with his bags. The door opened slightly. He was prepared to introduce himself to her, but he immediately recognized her face and smiled, "Hi Freda!"

She opened the door... "Richard, I'd have known you anywhere!"

The met at the door in an expansive hug... much like long separated travelers express as they come through the long final clearances of leaving a flight.

But the casual observer would have noticed that the warm and casual hug soon migrated into a long and intensive kiss that would have given evidence of serious sexual intent. The holding and kissing quickly became familiar and she came to her senses... "Bring your bags in and let's not make a spectacle of ourselves her in the hall.

Inside they were lost again in the entwining of tongues. Panting words of wonders and uncertainties were washed away with the sexual chemistry that neither dared might hold up to the light of day. They realized that the months of flirty role playing and shared sexual intimacies had only whetted their appetites.

She was already in a blue silky slip type nightgown. It hid only the color of her nipples from his eyes but the texture was highlighted in bold relief. His hands slid over her hips and one freed itself to slide around the cup the weight of her breast as his thumb continued up to tweak the bud of her protruding nipple. His eyes were lost in trying to consume her at once... her face and eyes, her breasts and nipples. He was lost in trying to satisfy himself with his lips and tongue in all that he wanted to kiss.

He watched her shiver as he greedily let his hand slide downward across the expanse of her flat tummy to the hardening mound of her womanhood. His hand turned downward so that his fingers formed a point to separate her legs and cup her softness between her legs. She moaned from within her throat and he could feel the slight awkwardness of her movement as she moved her legs to allow him room to discover her.

She was soft and as his fingers cupped inward, there was a hollowness at the soft core of her sex. He could tell by the texture of the fabric and the slipperiness of it that she was wet for him and as he explored, the fabric was pulled up into her with his fingers and became more drenched with her lubrication. He could feel the quivering from her inner thighs as he held her and she both at once opened herself to him and his touch, and with her thighs trapped him to herself... greedy for the contact.

He used his free hand to slide one strap of her gown from off her shoulder and she shrugged to allow the strap and the fabric covering that breast to fall free. It was not quite enough to expose her nipple to him, but as he buried his mouth into the fabric to possess her breast it fell free exposing the erect nipple to his tongue.

He was not sure exactly how to pleasure her. He began with a long licking stroke of his tongue across her nipple, flicking the distended bud of her nipple, almost making it "pop" as it broke free. He opened his mouth and took as much of her nipple and breast into his mouth and gently sucked using his tongue to swirl the full duskiness of her areola. She thrust her breast into his mouth and from the sounds of her breathing and her moaning, he knew he was pleasing her.

He then gently decided to explore her range of reactions as he drew his mouth smaller and increased the suction until he had pulled her nipple into his mouth deeply and allowed his teeth to graze the hardened erectile tissue. He was gentle at first, but as her hand reached to hold his head tightly to her nipple he increase the tension and the torture until he could feel her shiver as she drug his head free and attacked his mouth with her own, thrusting her tongue where her nipple had been before.

His fingers continued to move between her legs, opening the cleft of her sex and feeling the swelling of her excitement moving under the fabric. The satin of the gown was drenched now but he would not leave contact with her to pull it up. He could not enter her with his fingers yet but he could tell he was making headway towards his objective because with each micro movement of his fingers there was a 100-fold movement of her hips to accommodate and respond to his touches.

He cradled her and kissed her neck, listening to her ragged breath against his ear. Her breast was hanging out of the top of her gown and the thrust of her hips to meet his touch meant that she was off balance and supported by her arms round his neck. She was alive against him and he knew she was close to a climax. She squeezed him so tightly that it almost cut off his air supply and her hips thrust forward and open and he could feel her spasm. He felt the trembling of her arms and was afraid that she would loose her grip on him and he held her with his arm around her back to keep her from falling.

She went limp in his arms for a moment and he held her with the grasp between her legs and the arm around her back. His head was buried in her neck and he could feel that trip hammer pounding of her artery in her neck as he kissed it.

He lifted her upright and steadied her on her feet and looked at her with a smile. He had given her the first orgasm and he hadn't even gotten undressed yet. She looked down at herself and realized what she looked like with a breast hanging out and a huge wet spot now darkening a large area of her gown below her waist. She blushed and moved to cover her breast and with a perfunctory brush of her gown pretended that the dampness didn't exist.

He held her face in his hands and kissed her, sweetly, but insistentantly. He held her back at arms length and let his hands slide to her shoulders and took the straps of her gown and pulled them upward. Her first reaction was to cover her breasts in the classic pose of a woman caught naked, but with a shake of his head she relaxed and let her arms rise with the tug of the fabric as he drew the gown upward. He paused as the fabric was drawn above the juncture of her legs. He knew she was clean-shaven there, from her sharing and from his touch. But to see the smooth juncture of her legs with the cleft that split her was incredible. He gazed until he realized that her face was now being covered by the damp stain of the fabric, which had been drenched with her own juices. He leaned forward and through the wet pungent aroma of the fabric he kissed her lips. He felt at first a start, perhaps from surprise but also perhaps from the wetness of the fabric pressed to her lips and nostrils. But quickly there came a response from her that accepted the joy that the aroma and wetness betrayed to both of them.

Quickly her gown was over her head and her hands again quickly covered her nipples from his gaze. Just as quickly he began to unbutton the neck of his golf/polo shirt and felt her hands which has surrendered the coverage of her breasts began to pull and tug at his clothes. The movement was a mixture of chaos as she almost simultaneous tugging his shirt bottom from his pants and the loosening of his belt and trouser "snap" and "zipper".

It went quickly as he found himself now kicking his shoes off so that his pants could join the other pile of clothing. She hugged and pressed herself to him and he felt the electric spark that generated between her bare, swollen nipple and his chest. Each time she moved it felt as though she were carving her initials into his exposed chest.

She then stopped to do something that seemed strange to him. She leaned forward and he could feel the grazing of her nipples against his chest and then suddenly he felt her lips capture his left nipple. He had never felt his own nipple being sucked, but the vacuum of her lips pulled at him and he was amazed at the tingling which spread through him and flowed downward into his loins. She alternately licked and sucked at each of his nipples and he found himself uttering that groaning that flows from the back of his throat. It was a sound he was familiar with because he had heard it torn from her throat as he had suckled her nipples. I was awed that his own body, which he thought he knew so well, was capable of such a response to such stimulation. He had never heard of a man having his nipples sucked, and enjoying it. He felt a little strange, as though it was wrong of him to have enjoyed it. But it was not wrong enough for him to have stopped her. He understood now the comment that he had heard women say about sucking their nipples could make them climax.

She now knelt in front of him and it caught his breath. Her chin bumped his erection as she knelt. With one hand she captured him and he felt the warm wetness of her mouth encircle the purple head of his manhood. Her velvet tongue snaked out to drag along the swollen channel that paralleled the length of his erection and drew from him his own wetness. Without releasing him with her hand she began a slow stroking of the base of his erection even as she began to envelop him in successive waves of velvety wet warmth. Her tongue was alive against the tender under length of his hardness and he was breathing heavily. He was trying hard to concentrate lest he allow himself to be pushed over the edge and ejaculate so quickly.

He reached down and held her head firmly between his hand, thinking to limit her movement and slow himself down, but her hand moved in a clutching fashion around the root of his hardness and her movement against him moved him into her now stationary mouth. He wanted not to let himself grow so close to loosing control, but he felt his hips moving his hardness into her and withdrawing with the unmistakable movements of intercourse.

"Careful, honey... You'll make me cum!" he groaned, not sure if his voice was intelligible.

It seemed that only fueled the fire of her passion and possession. Her hand moved to his hips and since she could no long move her head down the swollen shaft of his hardness, she used her hand to pull him into her mouth until he knew that her lips were meeting her own hand still grasping and throbbing.

She suddenly moved her hand that had been grasping his erection and clutched the other cheek of his bottom as she pulled him into her mouth and as he looked down her hair had fallen forward and he could only tell from the feeling that she had pulled into her mouth to the very depths and she let her teeth scrape ever so slightly as the base of his hardness.

He was captured. She held him pulling him into her and not letting him draw back. His own hands joined in this bondage as he held her head. With part of his brain, he knew he shouldn't hold her, but at that second he brain wasn't in control. From deep within him, he knew that the white hot spewing was surfacing and the spasming has started. He could feel it beginning to flow, but he was helpless. Had she pulled her head back, he might have been able to let her go, but she sensed it too and held him as close as they could be physically linked.

Like a volcano, he erupted. But there was now shooting white ropes of his essence spewing upward to splatter down. He knew it must be hitting the back of her throat and with the second spasm he could feel her throat tighten, as he knew we could do nothing other than swallow. She released her hold on her hips and at last he eased the vice like grip of her head and he drew back part way from him as he continued now to fill her mouth with the fire that was flowing down the tube of his erection. He felt her suction return as she urged him to complete the exchange of his fluids. She continued to move on him with her tongue, but now there was a very silky and slippery sensation, as he knew she was licking him with his own cum in her mouth.

His knees got weak and he was lightheaded. For just a moment he wondered if he was about to fall and he steadied himself with his hands on her head. At last, he let himself go and he too dropped to his knees and with their heads now close together again... Her lips sough him out.

The kiss was both tender and passionate and he knew that the texture of her mouth was the residue of his own climax. He felt strange about the texture and wondered about the taste, but he was not to deny his willingness to taste her and let her share that with him. There was a subtle softening in her with the kiss... And he realized that in some way he had passed an unspoken test. As surely as kissing her through the soaked wetness of her gown to taste her own flavor had been important to him, being willing to taste himself from her lips was important to her.