Chapter 2

Alice and Denise – Foolish Savior – Seduced By the Bride-to-be

Less than a month after Miss Ginger left to have her baby at her mother's home in Scotland, several things happened in my life. One, I returned to the local high school and after being tested, found myself very much a hot college prospect. I was accepted to the University of Georgia within a week after submitting my application.

Feeling myself a man of experience with respect to women, I was bold enough to ask Alice Mattingly to the senior prom. Alice was without a doubt the best looking girl in my high school and, according to the guys I questioned, had never put out for anyone, and was perhaps the only virgin in the senior class. I was quite pleased when she accepted my invitation; less so when I learned that her father had forbade her dating anyone, and that she had never even been to one of the school's dances.

I was still trying to figure out how to approach Mr. Mattingly, when my mother's younger brother, Frank brought his fiancé to our home to introduce her to the rest of the family. Inasmuch as Frank lived more than halfway across the country and it mattered little to him and his fiancé where they were to be married, they readily accepted mother's offer of having the wedding at our spacious home.

Now let's understand that I was basically a walking hormone and was absolutely stunned by my uncle's bride to be. In the years since I have seen other, more beautiful women to be sure, but Denise's beauty took me to a new level in measuring a woman's charms.

It wasn't just her looks -- which were stunning to say the least -- there was her attitude, and sense of humor and overall kindnesses toward me that captivated me. Oh, she had shoulder length light brown hair, sparkling brown eyes, a gorgeous, open face, tantalizing mouth and a great smile. When she smiled, her whole face lit up, and it affected those around her. Her breasts were full and in proportion to her body. She was possessed of nicely flared hips, and a gorgeous, full ass that made me want to sink my teeth into it and never let go. She was beauty. She was my new masturbatory lover at first sight. She was Denise.

That first night we all went out to the renowned 17Hundred90 Inn and Restaurant, where I partook of the Salmon Oscar – a grilled salmon covered with tender crab meat and asparagus tips finished off with hollandaise and served with creamy risotto and vegetables. I remember most of the evening simply because I sat next to Denise throughout, although she was preoccupied with her fiancé, my uncle Frank.

Still underage insofar as drinking alcohol, Denise insisted that I sample the various wines brought to our table, and I, a neophyte in drinking, was slightly inebriated by the time we arrived at The Raucous House, a cabaret, featuring the local group called Mystery Band.

After being seated, Denise asked Frank to dance only to be rebuffed as he was busy telling my mother how badly his business investments were doing. Turning to me, she said, "Donald, would you please dance with me?"

I managed the first number, but the next was a slow dance and I had to dash away to the Men's Room rather than risk having her feel the hardon I had just from holding her hands.

I avoided her the rest of the evening, retiring to my room the moment we got home. I might have dozed off, but woke on hearing a voice that had to be Denise on the other side of my bedroom wall.

Leaping out of bed I quickly went to my spy hole and peeked into their room.

"No, Frank! No, noooo!" It was Denise! The front of her white dress had been ripped open and she was struggling with Uncle Frank who had a hand trying to cover her mouth while telling her to shut up.

His fly was open and his dick was sticking out. There was no mistaking what his intent was. I had heard of people "seeing red," but I didn't know exactly what they were talking about until that moment.

Rushing to their door wearing pajama bottoms, I pounded on the door, asking if everything was all right in a voice loud enough to rouse my mother who joined me just as Frank opened the door.

"What?" he yelled in my face.

"I ... I heard loud screams ... I thought ... I don't know what I thought," I said, not wanting to tell everyone that I had seen what was going on in the room.

Mother looked over Frank's shoulder and saw Denise in her disheveled dress sobbing on the bed, and understood the situation at once.

"Frank, I think you need to get some coffee in you. Come downstairs with me." There was no give in her tone, and he meekly followed her down the stairs.

Ashley, having joined us just before my mother spoke to Frank, followed me into the bedroom and sat on the bed next to Denise.

I stood there in the doorway, not knowing what I should do, or not do until Denise beckoned me over to join them. I glanced at her and saw the top of one breast half out of her bra. I gulped and knew that she was watching me. Our eyes met and she managed a wan smile.

"I want to thank you, Donald. You're my hero," she whispered to me.

Ashley giggled proudly at her compliment, repeating her words. "You're my hero!"

"Th ... thank you," I managed, and red-faced, fled the room.

Back under my covers, I fished out my dick and furiously jerked off, leaving a copious amount of semen on the sheets.

The following afternoon I found myself alone with Denise in the study. Ashley and Mother were off buying wedding presents or some such thing. Frank was off with an old friend drumming up a business deal.

It became apparent that she had planned the meeting when we had the house to ourselves. "Please stay with me a while, Donald," she said softly. "That is if you have nothing better to do."

She stood before me, her auburn hair swept back from her forehead, her lips a full rich pink, a pair of small dimples dancing on her cheeks as she smiled.

I felt a distinct sensation in my penis as she stood there, wearing a dress of blue with a full skirt that allowed me to see her legs to the knee. Her legs were long and lovely, and of course, aroused me. My inquisitive eyes followed them from the blue pumps that made her ankles look longer and more beautiful up to the hem of her skirt as continued standing, not saying a word. Later I realized she was allowing me to take her in.

I remained seated with a copy of Gray's Anatomy on my lap. Denise chose to sit down directly across from me in a leather wing chair that had been my father's. She crossed her legs, and for an instant I thought I could see above her stockings to her tanned thighs.

I was almost shaking with nervousness, but managed to control myself through sheer willpower.

She smiled at me, and then crossed her hands behind her head and stared at the ceiling. This provocative pose was designed to compel me to note the delicacy of her collar bones and the smooth curve of skin beneath her neck.

From that moment on, I have never doubted a woman's insightfulness when it comes to seduction. For the most part they are miles ahead of their male partners; unless of course, one has been carefully taught by a knowing woman beforehand.

Back to basics ... Denise's perfume drifted across the short distance between us and drugged me as much as smoking a pipe of opium might have. I was unsuccessful in fighting off my cumbersome erection and sat with both hands on the cover Gray's Anatomy.

She got up from the leather wing chair and approached me. "Can I ask you something, Donald?" she murmured while stroking a lock of hair from my forehead.

"Sure," I said trying to hide both my erection and my nervousness.

"Why did you leave me standing on the dance floor? Why didn't you finish that slow dance with me?"

I started to squirm, uncomfortable in more ways than one at her questioning.

"I thought you liked me, Donald," She purred sexily a moment later.

"Denise, please, I can't talk about it. But trust me, I like you. I like you a lot."

"Do you? Do you really?" Denise said, pressing her advantage.

"You ... you're so beautiful and all..." I stammered falling back on the only tactic I knew for sure that worked on women. At least it had worked with Miss Ginger; throwing compliment after compliment at her.

Denise allowed me to shower her with complimentary nothings as we looked at each other. Her eyes were sparkling and I was lost in them. She leaned forward and cradled my face in her hand and kissed me softly on the lips.

A million sensations flooded my brain simultaneously – the softness of her skin and her lips, the hint of brandy on her breath, the silkiness of her hair on the back of my hand. I felt my cock swell even more and I pulled myself away from her.

Trying to be nonchalant, I said, "Someone will be coming in any minute. We shouldn't let them see us like this. It ... it compromises you."

Denise nodded, accepting what I'd said then reached for her brandy, and after taking a sip said, "You're a really good kisser, Donald. I think you've had some practice, have you?"

I blushed furiously; it was remarkable that I had enough blood elsewhere to rush to my cheeks, as it all seemed concentrated in a somewhat lower region. "Umm, I've had some practice, yes, but..." I was praying that she wouldn't call attention to my bulging predicament.

She didn't. But she kept touching me: On the forehead; on the upper the arm and just above the knee. I had no idea if it was intentional or not. But I was concerned about her spying my erection. And when she stopped touching me, she began toying with her stockings, bending this way and then that, smoothing and straightening them. I knew I should look away, but something told me she wanted me to look, and I did.

Finally, Denise sighed, and in an elaborate gesture, smoothed her stockings from the ankles clear to the dark bands that topped them; and then unclasping then reclasping a kind of hook that I'd never seen before.

The mere hint of what lay beyond the dark bands encasing her upper thighs brought me to a boil and I came in my pants. My brain turned to mush. And when I saw the rapidly spreading stain around my crotch the Gray's Anatomy fell off my lap onto the floor and the rest of me turned to stone. Blushing, red stone.

I saw her as she spied my embarrassment. My foremost memory of that moment should have been about my premature ejaculation, but it wasn't. It was about the two provocative eraser sized points that were growing like mini-erections from the center point of each breast.

Imagine my relief when Denise made no mention of the obvious stain. I had to say something. I was compelled to say something in atonement of my grievous sin.

"You're so beautiful," I heard myself exclaim.

I saw a flush rise up from her neck and cover her face.

"Why thank you, Donald," she said and cradled my face in her hands. I tried to put my hands over my bulge, but she lightly slapped them away. "You know, you're very handsome yourself. Has anyone ever told you that before?"

"Umm, my mother."

"Oh, we can't count that. Anyone else?"

"Umm, no." I had a fleeting thought of Alice Mattingly, but I hadn't been alone with her long enough to try to kiss her. I couldn't mention the times I'd been with Miss Ginger, and so I just let things hang there, and sure enough Denise came to my rescue, and opened Pandora's Box, saying, "I can see that you're all sticky here. Perhaps you'd be more comfortable if we open those pants and let some fresh air in, don't you think?"

My imagination went berserk. I could only stammer an inane reply. "I ... umm..."

I heard my zipper being pulled down and groaned. I went absolutely rigid on feeling the lightest pressure of her finger when it made brief contact with my roiling cock. I was forced to open my eyes and saw her leaning forward, licking and moistening her lips as she stared directly at my drooling one-eyed prick.

"Oh, my, Donald, you certainly have a fine one, Donald. Indeed you do," she whispered. I couldn't believe she was pleased with me. And when she followed that by licking her lips again, my cock gave a huge lurch and forced its way completely into the open.

Denise fanned her face with her hands, then let them fall to a button beneath the lace of her collar. She kept her eyes on mine as she slowly undid it. "It's seems to have gotten warmer in here," she said softly, and gave me a warm, assuring smile.

The situation was too intense for me. I knew I should do something, but even after being with Miss Ginger I was terrified of spoiling the moment, and so I waited for her to lead me to wherever we were going.

"I don't want you to move, my sweet Donald. I'm going to teach you about desire."

DESIRE! What could she possibly tell me-- a walking, 24 hour a day throbbing erection about desire? A simple glance at any female's throat would send me scurrying to the bathroom to masturbate a half dozen times each day!

And then she stretched, driving those pointed tips into the material of her chest with such force that I was sure they would tear through the material. That it took my breath away goes without saying. She followed this by moving her pelvis in a circular motion, so suggestive that I had to grasp my erection to quell its newly acquired exuberance.

I heard a half gargle, half giggle come from her throat. Saw her undo a button, revealing a good amount of cleavage.

"Do you like what you see?"

Did I like what she was revealing to me? I was totally confused. Miss Ginger had never been this suggestive and I had fucked the daylights out of her!

I managed a weak response, "Umm, yes, very much."

Up to that moment I had thought the times with Miss Ginger had been exciting. And they certainly were. But this ... this was more so. There was the allure of what was occurring before my eyes. There was the sensual mystery of what charms lay beneath the clothing she was removing so teasingly, and the promise of unending sex.

No, I'd never been so excited by anything in my entire life.

Smiling at me, she turned away and walked to the stereo unit in the bookcase and put on a station playing some jazz. I seem to think it was Brubeck's Take Five, or maybe Blue Rondo Ala Turk. I always confuse the two, and it was a long time ago.

Denise began moving to the soft sound of Paul Desmond's saxophone. Occasionally bending toward me, providing fleet flashes of perhaps a half breast, or partial glimpse of what had to be nipple through the opening of her dress.

I guess my cock was putting on a show of its own, pulsing and jerking, more than halfway out of my fly because Denise came to me then. I could see her breasts rising and falling beneath her dress. I couldn't quite see her nipples, only the provoking indentations they were making as they tantalized me.

Standing in front of me, she opened the remaining buttons and let those magnificent breasts fall away. I know I must have gasped aloud, for she gave a wanton laugh and reached out to hold my cock in her hand. Using her other hand, she began slapping my face with her breasts, hissing, "No touching ... yet!"

This only served to fill me with even greater want.

After squeezing a drop of cum from my tumescent prick, she laughed again and took a step back. I failed to realize that she was performing a striptease for my benefit, something she later confided she did for Frank on a weekly basis.

If possible, my eyes opened even wider as Denise slowly unbuttoned the final few buttons on her dress. Now she was holding it together, providing tantalizing peeks here and there, but in the main, denying me what I ached to see.

I needed to touch her. I wanted to kiss her all over as I had Miss Ginger, somehow knowing that was the one way I could seize the initiative.

"Like them, Donald?"

"Oh, yes!"

"Have you ever seen a woman's breasts before?"

"Not really. Well, I've seen my sister's."

"Did she show them to you, or did you spy on her?"

"I ... I walked in on her by accident."

"Did it excite you?"

"Yes..." I had the good sense not to tell her that almost anything feminine excited me, but then I expect Denise knew that already.

Denise had the edges of her dress in her hands. She put them together and began to lean forward so that I could see almost all of her breasts. She leaned forward and back in time to the music.

I groaned in my frustration and she laughed lewdly, inserting her hands into the dress and fondling those magnificent globes.

"Would you like too... ?"

My hands flashed out, but only grazed them, for she had anticipated my move and pulled back enough to deny me what I wanted.

"No touching!"

"You said, 'Not yet.'"

"I could say, not ever."

"Please don't."

Still teasing me with her breasts, she giggled and turned her back to me, and bent over throwing her ass at my face. There was a subtle shift on her part and suddenly I could see the entirety of her legs, from ankle to muscled calves to the tops of those stockings and beyond -- to the juncture where her white laced panties met her crotch.

It took me some time to realize that each and every move on her part had been carefully rehearsed countless times while perfecting her seductive technique. I would realize that women the world over practiced such things endlessly in hope of beguiling the right man. It would hit home several days later when I came upon my younger sister practicing facial expressions in a mirror as I passed by her room.

Suddenly Denise stretched again and the dress fell mysteriously into place, hiding all her sexy charms from my eyes.