The Devil of Pleasure

Chapter 1

Devil of Pleasure: Chapter One

Only three dates in and I gasp when he cups my face in his hands. It’s not the animal moments -  tumbling past bookcases and my now empty wine rack. The things my angel does that derail my train of thought or drive me to push him against the wall and busy his tongue in a kiss require no effort on his part really.
He stands behind me and his steamy breath caresses my neck. He whispers my name. He studies my legs from just over the rim of his morning mug of coffee – cocks his head  to one side ever so slightly, then smiles. Oh, that smile melts me.
I’d worry that he’s another devil to discard except our passion drives me forward. While my thoughts never seem to stray far from him, I concentrate better with my Anthony around. He can be on my mind. He doesn’t have to be in my bedroom.
I wonder if that’s how you know you’ve met “the one.” Suddenly, though you constantly touch, kiss, lick, entwine, it drives your life forward. His accomplishments inspire me, the way his kisses fire me – a burning flame consuming me – wanting more.
I’m in that fire now as his lips close on mine. He slips his tongue through them and teases my tongue and my senses. He holds me so close that I can feel his heart beating in his chest. His pulse races alongside mine and I feel my reserve slip. My Saturday holds no meetings. There’s no reason not to unbutton one pearlized button, then another, of his creamy silk shirt. It’s only a matter of a moment until I reach down to unclasp his trousers.
The silk of his hair brushes my cheek as he kisses my neck from ear to nape. Razor cuts sound so fierce until you run your fingertips through them as I do now. His silky strands have hit that time in life where they cannot choose one hue. It’s a cascade of black, gray and silver streaks perfectly complimenting his olive skin.
Anthony’s long, slender fingers trace the small of my back. I feel the zipper of my dress slide down. The man has mastered getting me out of my clothing deftly.
“I was thinking we could have Thai food this evening,” he whispers.
“What do you have planned before then?”
He smiled – half devil, half angel in it.
“I have a few ideas.”
He planted another tongue-filled kiss on my lips, parting them with the tip.
I felt him harden against me. Who cares if we eat, I thought, leading him toward my couch.
He ditched my bra and panties as I tore at his undershirt. I vaguely recall rolling my eyes when my father and his friends had worn a t-shirt beneath their dress shirt. Of course, I maligned slips the same way, preferring my skirts to swish against my legs.
How was I to have known in my high school and college days that the shirt underneath signaled gentleman? At this point though, it was merely another layer of clothing blocking my access to his olive skin.
“You could just ask me to take it off.”
“It’s more fun when I do it myself, Tony.” I gave him a wink.
He held up his arms as if I was a cop telling him to halt. The shirt slid up and off.
He smiled again and it reached his full of mischief eyes.
I could devour each and every inch of him and planned to do just that. Mentally, I surveyed my fridge, determining that I had neither enough chocolate syrup nor caramel to top him all the way down his chest. I probably had just enough to drizzle down his penis to add a little sweet fun to a blow job later.
I didn’t need it to begin trailing kisses and nibbles down his chest and torso, admiring his wiry build and the fine silk of his silver and black chest hair. I paused only a second to slide his purple boxer briefs off.
I heard a loud, heavy drumming. Could be my heart pounding, but a glance at the window as a steady crack-crack sounded revealed rain and hail. The murky, inky sky flashed white hot and I realized Mother Nature was having a bit of fun this afternoon, too. One after another, rolls of thunder clapped as Anthony gently laid me on the sofa. We could go to my bedroom, but even a second’s delay in getting him inside me seemed too long.
I was forced to wait seconds more as he shredded into a condom wrapper and slipped on protection. That won’t protect you from me, sweet man. This Saturday afternoon, you get to spend as my boy toy.
He trailed kisses from my left hand up my arm, across my neck and down the other arm. He play bit my right breast and just as his tongue slipped into my mouth, his penis slipped inside my sticky, wet vagina.
Another crash of thunder rolled, and a bolt of lightning streaked the sky. Anthony moved to the beat of the rainfall, creating our own stormy rhythm. Hands brushed my mussy blond tresses. Kisses rained on my cheeks and lips. His thrusts vied with the thunder and Anthony won – the more powerful. Back and forth he coursed so quickly I could not count.
My nails dug in his back. Fingers twined through his hair. I’d rather kiss him than breathe.
A quick series of thunder claps accompanied a crash-crash of chunky hail striking the window. Our rhythm arched and I found myself in a scream-pant as Anthony matched the storm’s fervor. We both came, shaking and screaming. He nestled on top of me, our new silence allowing nature to caress the earth as we had each other.