Chapter 3

Darren nuzzled his face into Marcia’s hair and inhaled her scent. “Are you sleepy?” she asked.

“Not really. I’m enjoying the closeness.”

“I didn’t think guys cared about closeness.”

“Some of us do. This guy does.”

“Feels good to me.”

“Does it still feel wrong?” he asked.

“No ... Not now.”

“You said you’re drawn to me,” he said.

“Like a moth to a flame.”

“Why?”

“Because of how you make me feel,” she replied. “I mean -- I never thought I’d fall for an older man.”

“I’m not that much older.”

“Eleven years older ... but who’s counting?”

“You’re beyond the limit for the half-plus-seven rule.”

“I don’t know that rule.”

“Take the older partner’s age, divide by two and add seven. That’s the youngest the younger partner should be before it’s indecent. Since I’m forty-two, the cutoff is twenty-eight. You’re three years over that ... so by that reckoning, you’re not too young ... or I’m not too old.”

“You ARE older, Darren. You can’t deny the fact.” She kissed his cheek. “It’s okay. I think maturity, experience and seasoning count. I might not always have felt that way, but I do now.” She ran her fingers through his graying hair. “I think your salt-and-pepper hair looks distinguished.” Marcia caressed his chest. “You have a good build and you’re not bad looking, Darren. All that’s less important to a woman. What really matters is how you make me feel.”

“How do I make you feel?”

“Cared for. I feel I can trust you, implicitly.”

“That’s what good sex is,” he replied. “Trust and giving.”

“It’s what true love is,” she replied. Marcia worked herself from under his arm and lay with her back to him. “My arm was falling asleep,” she said.

Darren ran his hand along her shoulder blade. “This is a nice rear view. You have a pretty back, Marcia ... and a cute bottom.” She snorted. “I think the backs of a woman’s legs are sexy ... especially the backs of her knees. Yours are very pretty.”

He lay beside her and put his hand on her abdomen. She put her hand on his; then she led is to her breast.

Darren cupped his hand over her left breast, her nipple protruding between his index and second fingers. Gently he flexed his hand, working the soft flesh of her breast and her nipple. “Feels nice,” she said. He began kissing her shoulders and nuzzling her neck. “Feels really nice.”

“Do you want more?”

“Mmm ... Can you?”

“We’ll see.”

“It’s okay if you can’t,” she said. “I just like the intimacy.” Darren supported her nipple with his fingers and stroked it with his thumb. Marcia drew in a breath. “Feeling really good...”

She rolled over to face him, held his cheeks and pressed her mouth to his. They worked their tongues back and forth, sharing each other’s air. Darren kissed her neck and between her breasts.

“Oh, God,” she said, “I feel like a river is pouring out of me.”

“Probably some if it is me.” Darren swung his feet to the floor and headed into the bathroom. He returned with a towel. Marcia lifted her hips and he spread it under her. “Better?”

“Mmm ... I wouldn’t want to make a huge mess on these sheets.”

“They’re not our sheets.”

“Worse yet.”

Darren began kissing her body, lingering on her breasts and then moving down her abdomen. He kissed her belly, worked his tongue into her navel and then kissed her smooth, bald mons.

He lay on his belly between her legs and spread her so he could kiss her clit. Nuzzling his lips between her labia he began a rapid but gentle stoking of her glans with the tip of his tongue. “Mmm,” she sighed. “This feels really good, Darren...” Sliding his arms under her thighs he reached for her breasts, pressed his fingers against her areolas and massaged them.

Marcia’s breathing quickly became panting. She lay, dead still, her palms on the sheets and her face to once side. “Ohhhhh ... ohhhhh ... ohhhhh...” she moaned in her warbling falsetto. He watched her belly heave with her breathing. He could feel her clit slowly pulsing against his lips and tongue, from her flexing pelvic muscles he figured.

She clenched her jaw, drew in a deep breath and cried out, her face distorted. The intensity of her response startled him and he drew back slightly. Marcia put her hand on his head and pressed his face against her vulva. “MORE!” she gasped.

Darren obligated by delivering all the speed and pressure his tongue could supply. Marcia gasped and cried, drawing up her knees and pressing her thighs against his ears. She straightened her legs, arched her back and cried again, her pelvic muscles throbbing against his lip. The sounds she made sounded like weeping except Darren could see her eyes were dry.

Marcia lifted her hand from his head and slipped her fingers under his jaw. He came up from between her legs. A beet-red flush covered her face, neck and chest; and she was panting heavily to regain her breath.

“Are you all right?” he asked

Marcia closed her mouth but continued breathing heavily through her nose. “I think I hyperventilated a bit,” she replied.

“From your response I was afraid I was hurting you.”

“Oh, no, Darren. It was wonderful. Wonderful.”

Darren knelt and gave Marcia his hand to help her to her knees. She wrapped her fingers around his erect organ. “This looks serviceable,” she remarked.

He embraced her and they kissed. Then, Darren ran his hand along the inside of her thigh and worked his finger into her slit. He pressed it firmly against her clit.

Marcia dug her fingers into his shoulders and cried out. “Too much!” she gasped.

He kissed her lips again. “You on top this time.”

He lay on his back. She threw a leg over his hips and straddled him. He guided his shaft into her and she lay atop him. They caressed each other’s faces and kissed.

Marcia began moving her hips and Darren thrust against her. “Uhn-uhn,” she said. “Let me. It’s my turn to pleasure you.”

“You have been pleasuring me.”

She smiled and then rocked and rotated her hips. Darren caressed her shoulder blades and ran his finger down her spine. He cupped his hands over her buttocks and ran his finger between them. Further down she was wet and slick from her juices. He savored her smooth skin as he stroked her crevasse; then he encountered the pucker of her anus, slippery from her natural lube. His finger slipped in to nail depth.

“Unnnh,” she grunted and doubled the vigor of her thrusting. “I can’t believe it,” she panted. “I think I’m gonna come again! Uhn ... uhn ... uhn...” She increased the cadence of her humping, grunting with the exertion. Darren felt her back becoming moist. His finger slid in further, up to the knuckle. “OH!” she groaned. He felt her sphincter tighten and relax with the orgasmic contractions of her pelvic muscles and he felt her heavy breathing on his skin. “Are you coming?” she asked.

“Almost...”

Marcia resumed rocking her hips. Darren felt his orgasm was within reach. Tightening his grip on her legs with his he grasped her buttocks, pressed his hips against hers and ejaculated. Darren’s body fell limp under hers and she collapsed atop him, caressing his face and kissing his lips.

“Do you have any idea,” he asked, panting, “how long it’s been since I’ve been able to have a second go?”

“How long?”

“Years.” He nodded. “It’s been years.”

“You’re a fantastic lover, Darren. You seem to know how to play me like a violin.”

“Stephanie and I went to a sex therapist,” he replied.

“Really?”

“Really. I wanted nothing to do with it. I figured I knew all I had to know about sex -- insert A into B. Repeat. So she dragged me there kicking and screaming. She thought it would improve our relationship.”

“Did it?”

“For a while. That was about five years ago. It was an eye-opener for me. I learned about the female response ... learned to read it and to appreciate it. I mean -- everyone’s different, but the basic response is hard-wired into our brains. Our therapist taught me how to look for the little tells.”

“Tells? What tells? Telling what?”

“Your level of arousal. You’re vocal, Marcia.”

“Oh, I know. I’m sorry but I can’t help it. If it bothers you, stuff a sock in my mouth.”

“That’s not it at all. When you get aroused, you start moaning ... but in this high-pitched, warbling voice.” He attempted to imitate it.

Marcia blushed. “Oh, my God! Is that really what I sound like? How embarrassing.”

“I love it,” he replied. “It means I’m doing my job right. I love hearing you sing to me.” He caressed her cheek. “Don’t be embarrassed by it and don’t stop. Then, when you get close, you go silent while you reach for your orgasm. That’s another thing the therapist told us -- a woman’s orgasm is a joint effort.”

“That’s true. It takes some focus.”

“Then...” He kissed her lips. “All hell breaks loose.”

She cuddled against him. “Well ... I am ready for sleep, now.”

“I have an idea. Let’s fill out that card for room-service breakfast and hang it on the knob.”

“Mmm ... I like that idea.”

“We won’t have to be up so early tomorrow. I think the first session is at nine.” He reached for the card and a pen. “What would you like?”

Pounding on his door roused Darren. “Room service,” came a voice from the corridor.

“Just a minute.” He stood and pulled on his trousers. Marcia stirred and pulled the covers to her chin.

He opened the door and the bellman brought in a tray. “Set it there,” Darren said, gesturing toward the table. He signed the slip and the bellman turned and departed.

Marcia swung her legs from under the covers. She sat, nude, across from him as he set her breakfast before her. He reached across the table and squeezed her hand.

“It was a wonderful night,” she said. “I feel mellow and rested this morning. I don’t think I’ve ever slept better. I closed my eyes and it was morning.”

“I slept well, too,” he replied. “And, the view from here is like heaven.”

“What’s on the agenda today?” she asked.

“Well ... They have a presentation on features that you should see; and one on implementation options that I’ll attend. It’s a box lunch on them. “He regarded the conference agenda. “I think we can regard the afternoon sessions as optional. Tonight is the banquet. Tomorrow morning is the round table. We should attend that -- it should be enlightening.”

“And, then we fly home.”

“Right. We have a meeting on Tuesday to present our recommendation.”

Marcia finished her coffee. She stood, slipped into her robe and picked up her bra and panties. “I’ll go upstairs, shower and get dressed,” she said. “See you downstairs.”

Darren piled the breakfast dishes and flatware onto the tray and set it in the corridor outside his door. He showered and dressed. Then he powered on his laptop, reviewed his email and headed for the elevators.

He found Marcia in the lobby. She had put on gray dress slacks and a pink blouse. He approached her, took her hand and squeezed it. “I like your earrings,” he remarked.

She broke into a wide smile. “Thanks.”

“I think we have our agendas,” he said. “See you at lunch?”

Darren sat with Marcia as they finished their club sandwich box lunches. Meanwhile the director of development spoke about upcoming features in his product line.

The speeches done, those assembled began to file out of the ballroom. Darren looked over the agenda. Elaine approached them. “How are you folks liking the conference so far?” she asked.

“It’s been helpful,” Darren replied.

“If there’s any information you need, don’t hesitate to ask.”

“Oh, we won’t,” Marcia replied, “hesitate, that is.”

“Good. Will I see you at tonight’s banquet?”

“Yes, we’re planning on it.”

“Excellent. We have a special keynote speaker. See you folks later.”

Darren watched as Elaine walked away from them. “She’s a good salesperson,” he remarked. “She’s knowledgeable but she’s not pushy.” He returned to reviewing the agenda. “I think,” he remarked, “that we would be better off skipping the afternoon sessions and go upstairs to work on our recommendation.”

“I didn’t see any sessions I thought were essential,” she replied.

They walked toward the elevator bank. Darren pressed the call button. “What’s your overall impression?” he asked.

“The major gaps are in reporting,” she replied. “Otherwise it’s a solid product.”

“That’s my impression, too.” The elevator stopped at the fifth floor. They walked to Darren’s room and saw housekeeping was cleaning it. “Let’s go to your room,” he said.

They returned to the elevator, rode up one floor and walked down the corridor. Marcia slipped her passcard into the lock and opened the door. “After you,” he said and closed and bolted the door.