Chapter 5: Being Gentlemanly

“It’s still warm,” Paige said as we got back to the car. It was Friday night and we’d been for a meal after work. “Let’s go for a walk along the seafront.”

I raised an eyebrow in question as I looked at her over the car’s roof. “A walk?”

“Yes,” she said with a cheeky grin. “A walk. And then ... maybe ... You know.”

I chuckled. “That’s what I thought.”

It wasn’t a long drive and I parked in one of the bays by Central Pier since we didn’t plan on staying too long. They were time restricted, so if we’d planned on going dancing, I’d have had to park somewhere else. It was indeed a warm night, even though it was now September. And we weren’t the only couple strolling in the twilight hand in hand or arm in arm, talking and looking out over Westmouth Bay as the seagulls cawed and the waves crashed on the beach.

“Damn, there’s someone sitting on our bench,” she said.

I held my tongue. It wasn’t our bench. It couldn’t be. I’d sat on that bench a lot with Vanessa doing the same sort of things I did with Paige. I’d sat there with Clarissa too doing those things. And I’d sat there with Emily and Imogen just talking and watching the sea.

“Shame,” I said. “My legs were getting tired.”

“Yeah, right,” she said with a smirk. “You just want to spend half an hour kissing me.”

“I haven’t heard you complain about that yet. Besides, this was your idea.”

She slapped me playfully on the arm and we walked on past the bench.

“There’s always one of the other benches.”

She shook her head. “Nah. That one has the best view.”

I rolled my eyes.

“Do you have a DVD player in your room?” she asked.

“My bedroom or—” She nodded. “Yes. Why?”

She put her arms around me and hugged me tightly. “I just really fancy lying on your bed and watching some bad movie.”

“Really?” I didn’t mean to sound so surprised, but this was the first time she’d suggested something like this. She’d met me at the house a few times but nothing more than that.

“Yes, really. It’d be nice.”

I shrugged. “Okay. Any idea what you want to watch?”

“I don’t care. Something mindless.”

“I’ve got plenty of those. Come on, let’s go.”

Twenty minutes later I popped a DVD into the built-in player in the TV in my bedroom, then joined Paige on my bed. Mark and Imogen were out somewhere together—although it wasn’t a date. Definitely not a date. They’d been going out places together all summer, but they weren’t going out and they didn’t go on dates.

And Imogen lectured me about my love life?

I lay with Paige on my left and lifted an arm in invitation for her to cuddle up close, which she duly did. She rested her head on my chest as I put my arm around her to hug her tight. Her hand rested on my stomach.

It was at least ten minutes before she lifted her head up off my chest and moved up to kiss me—just a little peck, nothing too passionate but it definitely held the promise of more. Then she rested her head on my chest again and we continued to watch the film.

A couple of minutes after that, she kissed me again, this time with more heat. She pushed her tongue into my mouth and ran it along my teeth before sucking my lip as she pulled away. She put her head back on my chest and her hand drifted to my stomach again, only instead of resting there, she opened one of my shirt buttons, making just enough room to put her fingers inside.

The next time she kissed me, it was for longer and I was able to meet her tongue with mine. And when she again rested her head on my chest, she pulled my shirt tails out of my trousers so she could rub her hand on my skin. I didn’t have a ‘six-pack’ by any means—I personally think they look pretty awful and I think it gives the wrong message about a person who spends all his time working out to get that way—but my tummy was taut with clear definition to my abs thanks to the weekly sessions of badminton and weights with Mark.

She purred like a kitten as she traced those muscles.

Eventually, her hand drifted lower and pushed under the waistband of my trousers.

“Paige,” I muttered. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing.” There was a touch of amusement in her voice, as if she was smiling as she spoke.

She undid my button and pulled down the zip.

“Paige...” There was a hint of warning in my voice. I don’t know why. Did I not want her to do this? This was further than we’d ever gone before—even in the back seat of my car looking out over the bay. But why did I want her to stop? Did I want her to stop? Was Mark right? Was I more comfortable with our relationship because it wasn’t sexual?

“Hush,” she said. “Just sit back and enjoy this. And let me enjoy this.” She paused. “And then you can return the favour later.”

Next thing I knew she’d pushed my trousers and boxers down and she had my cock in her hand. She purred again as she stroked it a couple of times, bringing it to full mast.

“Nice,” she said. “Very nice.”

Then my dick was in her mouth. Her soft, warm, wet mouth.

I sucked in a breath and gripped the sheets with my right hand and her hip with my left. As she sucked me deeper, I closed my eyes, tipped my head back and moaned. A long, low moan of satisfaction.

She was good. Not the best I’d ever had. Not even close to being in Amanda or Vanessa or, yes, Clarissa’s league. But she was good.

She moved her head. She used her hand. She used her tongue.

She took me as deep as she could, getting just over half my length in her mouth, and sucked hard as she pulled off, swirling her tongue around the head on every second or third stroke.

She didn’t rush, but she wasn’t teasing me either. It was as if she wanted to get me off, but she wasn’t racing to get there. I got the impression she was enjoying what she was doing too much for that.

But still, I really didn’t stand a chance.

I’d never really been one for self-loving, by which I mean I didn’t overly masturbate like some men do. Sure, I spanked the monkey every so often, maybe once a week, sometimes twice, but it was more for relief than anything else. To ease the tension of daily life as a young man surrounded by as many sexy young women as I always seemed to be.

And it had been just under a week since I last slapped the salami. Which meant I was on something of a hair trigger.

“Paige,” I said through gritted teeth. “I’m going ... I’m close...” I groaned as she sucked a little harder in response.

She bobbed her head a couple of times, then pulled off and, stroking my cock hard and fast, she looked up at me and said, “Come for me, Paul. I want to taste it.”

Then she took me back into her mouth and stroked and bobbed and sucked harder and faster than before as she drove me on and on, closer and closer to my climax.

I put one hand on the back of her head and grabbed a handful of her loose, blonde curls and gripped the sheets with my other hand.

I thrust my hips up and down, driving more of my dick into her mouth.

Then I closed my eyes, held my breath, and pushed her head down as I held my hips up and finally let go, pumping what felt like a gallon of cum into her mouth.

And when I was done—when my balls were empty—I relaxed and let out the breath I’d been holding in.

My hand slipped from her head, and I released my death grip on the sheets. My hips fell back to the bed, and I gasped for breath.

“Oh, Paige,” I muttered. “Paige.”

She pulled off my cock, letting it flop against my belly, and sat up. She looked me in the eyes then opened her mouth, showing me a teaspoon’s worth of cum pooled on her tongue. Then she closed her mouth, smiled, and made a show of swallowing the load.

Then she opened her mouth to show me before leaning forward to kiss me. A long, slow sensuous kiss. At the same time, she reached down a hand to grip my still-hard cock and give it a loving squeeze.

“Well, that was unexpected,” I said after we broke apart. Then, realising that probably wasn’t the best way to compliment a woman who’d just performed fellatio on you, I added, “Amazing. Absolutely amazing, but unexpected.”

She shrugged. “I just wanted to.”

I nodded. “But ... Why now?”

“Because.”

“Because why?”

“Just because.” I waited her out. I knew she’d tell me more if I waited. “I got tired of waiting, okay?”

She sighed and moved to sit on the bed next to me, facing me, her legs tucked underneath her. We had gone for a meal straight from work, then come here straight from the meal so we were both still dressed as we had been for the office—with the exception of me removing my tie. She looked amazing in her summer business outfit—tight, light grey skirt and fitted white blouse through which you could make out her white lacy bra when the light was right. I’d been sneaking looks at it all day like a naughty schoolboy sneaking looks at one of his hot teachers—the one with the big boobs. (Oh, come on, we all had a hot teacher with big boobs who we had a crush on—admit it).

I, on the other hand, felt foolish with my shirt half unbuttoned, my trousers and shorts pushed down to my knees and my deflating dick resting on my belly.

“We’ve been seeing each other for what? Six? Seven weeks? Something like that. And you’ve never ... I mean, you’ve been pretty much a perfect gentleman, if you know what I mean. You’ve only ever gone as far as you think you should—or as far as you think I wanted or whatever.” She waved a hand dismissively then slapped it down on her thigh. “You’ve never pushed for more. Never tried anything. I was starting to think that maybe ... I mean, you were getting me all hot and bothered and begging for more, okay not literally begging, but in my head I’d be screaming for you to touch me, to undress me and to make me yours, but you never did and...” She paused and looked at me with sad eyes.

“Paige, I...”

She shook her head. “Is it me? It’s not me, is it? I thought it was me, but ... Is it me, Paul?”

“You know it’s not. It’s just...” I shrugged.

“I know.” She nodded. “But a girl worries, you know. Especially after...” She stopped and looked away.

“After what?”

“Nothing. It’s nothing, I just...” She smirked and there was suddenly a mischievous glint in her eye. “So ... Are you going to return the favour or what?” She raised her eyebrows as her eyes flashed dangerously. She reached up for the top button of her blouse—which was just above halfway down her cleavage—and toyed with it for a moment, drawing my eyes to it, which I’m sure was her intention. Paige had marvellous breasts. I’d not actually seen them in the flesh, so to speak, but they certainly filled out whichever top she was wearing on any given day. And I’ve already told you that today her blouse was white and fitted and damn near see-through.

She popped open the button, then ran her hand down over her breast, her side and down to her thigh. It was a seductive movement, designed no doubt to make my eyes follow and take in her curvaceous body. A body built for sex. A playground for sex.

I gulped. Then took a deep breath. Then I looked her in the eye and said, “It wouldn’t be very Gentlemanly of me not to, now would it?”

She smiled again. The kind of smile a cat might have after it got the cream—if cats could smile. “That’s what I was hoping you’d say.”

She leaned forward to kiss me again even as she once more took my dick in her hand and stroked it gently. I wrapped one hand around her back and placed the other on the same breast she’d stroked her hand over.

I love the way breasts feel in my hand. So soft. So pliant. I caressed it gently. Squeezed it. Toyed with it.

She released my cock and instead used her hand to press mine harder against her flesh as she moaned—all without breaking our kiss.

When her hand released mine, I moved to deftly open the remaining blouse buttons so that I could push it out the way and feel her lace bra against the palm of my hand.

She broke off our kiss just long enough to shrug her blouse off her shoulders, leaving it to fall on the bed behind her. Then she kissed me again as she reached behind to unsnap her bra and pull it off too.

Now I had the full weight of her breast in my hand. They were heavier than most I’d ever held—but not the heaviest. At least, I don’t think so.

But the weight felt good.

I could feel her hardening nipple poking against my palm, so I adjusted my grip and moved my fingers to pinch it, stroke it and tweak it.