Chapter 2

I'm not too sure, though, that I was ready for any further exploration on his part. He slowly and smoothly lowered his fingers, the proximity inciting my nipples until I thought that I could actually feel them stiffen.

With tentative fingers he began to lightly trace around the swell of my breast just above my bra, circling leisurely but with deliberate intent, ever closer to the sensitive center. Even as weary as I was of the situation, my body responded to his sensuous touch. It was if I could feel the blush of my rosy tipped buds deepen. They awoke and rose, swelling and becoming hard even before his touch.

Slowly he removed his hand, only to carefully lick his finger and place it back and just to the top of my bra. Carefully he slid his fingers downward, slowly and carefully sliding over the top of what had to be noticeably heaving breasts. Slowly, slowly and with infinite caution he took a swollen nub between his fingertips. Waiting, letting me get used to his presence there, he made no move.

I guess he was getting what he wanted from me. No response was a good response in this case. It was almost as if I were asleep and this was nothing but a dream like assault. As if he needed encouragement, a sigh escaped my lips and there was a definite if not subtle rising and lowering of my hips in response to the intrusion.

He felt my small surrender and moved deftly between the two engorged peaks, his hand sliding over the top then cupping my right breast beneath, kneading lovingly as he gave his full attention to first one then the other.

I froze in place. I guess that's about the only way I can explain it. It was if I was trapped and wasn't trying too hard to escape. I knew this was all very wrong and had to be stopped but there didn't seem to be much power in me to do that. I just couldn't imagine him doing anything sinister or wrong. Still, I had to make a move and finally decided I had to move his hand away.

He either read my thoughts or my body language. He slowed his caresses then removed his hand, lulling my mind to a point where I was almost relaxed again. Thank God it was over without confrontation. It had been as awkward as it was sensuous and there just wasn't an easy way out.

Thank goodness that was it. Neither of us spoke as he put two hands back on the wheel and we drove on. I looked out the side window with a pale face and trembling body, wondering how this had happened and what I had done to even suggest that I would be open to his advances. Most of all, though, I wondered why I had responded as I had. Face it, Shelly; you weren't exactly appalled by his attention.

He gave me just a few minutes to recuperate.

After that time I felt it. A touch, gentle and slow, ever so slightly on the leg. I was caught by surprise and moved my leg away, forcing my eyes out my window. It was sort of a surreal situation; the music playing softly above the hum of his engine, being in such a confined space with a man most would die for. And yet everything was wrong and confusing.

He didn't remove his fingertips from my leg and the touching became more brazen. At first it had been just light circles about my knee. After a while he finally put his hand fully on my leg just about the knee. I didn't know what to do. Would it be best if I just ignored it? Maybe it would go away.

But I was wrong. Maybe my lack of response made him think I was agreeable and it encouraged him because he slowly started an upward exploration of my left leg. It took forever before he even came in contact with my short skirt but when it did my dress slid upward as his hands slowly advanced, touching my leg both on the inside and outside, his bare hand making small circles on my skin.

When he touched my bare leg above the stocking top there was a very audible moan that came from him. In that foggy state of mind I couldn't help but wonder why. Surely after my little "show and tell" this afternoon he knew I was wearing thigh highs.

His advance was slow and deliberate, making it harder and harder to ignore. At times there was a hesitation and his hand left my leg. I realized he was stopping to unbutton my skirt as he went up. My breathing had increased and my heart was pounding.

I couldn't believe it! His advance up my leg took forever, small gentle circles invading my privacy. And my erogenous zone. Through my apprehension I couldn't ignore the touch, the perfect timing, the small sparks igniting and going straight up between my legs.

Finally, with my dress separated way up and his hand well under it, he touched me over my thong. That's when I reached down and grabbed his wrist. That opened the unspoken dialogue. We both knew I had not been asked to be a willing partner in this and we were to determine where this was going.

"Gary, please." I said it quietly and softly.

His response was not what I was hoping.

"Isn't this nice? Soft music and just the two of us." He didn't volunteer to remove his hand.

I didn't fight him so much but put steady pressure on his wrist, trying to force him away from me and let him know he was not to do it. He never got rough or pushy, but just continued the pressure, his fingertips slowly starting to caress me through the flimsy cloth. As they slid slowly up and down the cloth-covered channel I avoided eye contact, keeping my eyes to the right and out into the darkness.

The next ten minutes or so seemed like hours, with me trying to ward off his advancing, ever exploring hand. On occasion I turned my head to him and whispered "No, Gary. No." It fell on deaf ears and his erotic massage continued. It was if he had found his destination, his goal, and that was where he was going to stay. I decided he just wanted to play with me a little bit.

Finally, I started to relax my hand, both out of exhaustion and the realization that I was not in a position to fight this too much unless I wanted to walk. The thought crossed my mind but I quickly nixed it.

With that in mind, my body relaxed a little, my legs parting slightly. I still had his wrist in my hand when all of a sudden he made full contact with me, cupping me in his hand. After a few minutes of rubbing me with the palm of his hand, my thong had gathered to one side and his fingers made actual contact with my clit. Even though I somewhat anticipated it, his touch still came as a shock and I involuntarily jerked at the contact.

But not the way I would have anticipated. And should have.

For all my apprehension, it was very pleasing to my senses. With my feelings of guilt starting to give way to his masterful touch, I was really becoming aroused. He wasn't a dirty old man off the street; instead, he was a man I had total respect for and stood in awe. Yet it dawned on me that I obviously didn't know this guy at all.

My breathing continued to increase, my heartbeat was fast, and I started moving slightly with his teasing. His touch never got rough, but continued as slow, gentle movements as he had from the start. I unintentionally adjusted my body a little and became more accessible to him.

His fingers gained unabated access to my clitoris and he started rubbing it with vigor, making strong little circles then flipping it rapidly from side to side with one finger. After a few minutes of that I was a goner!! My hand no longer was pushing his wrist away from me but rather was squeezing it gently and pulling it toward me, silently encouraging him as if he needed any.

At that point I'm sure he was more than aware that I was his. Very softly he said, "Come for me." I really didn't need the encouragement, already writhing in my seat, trying to be under control, my mouth open and the air rushing out. He increased the speed and pressure on my clit dramatically and with that rapid vibration I lost it.

My mouth opened wide and I groaned like a cheap whore, releasing a long, gut-wrenching orgasm. My feet stamped down onto the floorboard and I lifted my hips off my seat as far as the seatbelt allowed, my head shoved back into the seat. He never stopped rubbing as I arched my body and rotated my hips in mid air.

Gary kept it up, never stopping to let me come down off my high. He would tease me up to where I was moaning and ready for an obvious orgasm, then he would bring me back down slowly only to tease me up again. Not yet ready to beg, I was certainly mentally cringing for rescue. There was no doubt that good or bad, right or wrong, I had definitely become a willing prisoner to his fingers.

At that point, I don't know whether to describe it as things going uphill or downhill. He took full control of me. He removed his hand and then gently pulled my face to him, kissing me very softly on the ears first, then brushing my lips as well as he could from an angle. I was more than concerned about his driving.

"Doesn't this feel good?" he whispered. I didn't answer but rather nodded slowly and moaned very quietly.

"Turn around and lean back against me."

"Huh" I was almost in a stupor and didn't really get what he meant.

He reached over and released my seat belt. Hooking a finger under my thong, he asked me to lift my hips. I did so slightly as if a robot receiving orders and he slid them off me.

"Turn sideways in your seat and lean back against me."

I was at a loss. The car was tiny and I could hardly sit in it, let alone turn sideways. But I did. I turned with my back to him. The only way I could do it was to have my legs spread wide apart with my knees almost to my chest.

As it turned out it was exactly what he was looking for. He slipped his arm around me and slid his hand down to my crotch. He slipped a finger deep in me and just as I responded with a deep moan and a quick thrust of my pelvis he pulled out again. I almost moaned again in disappointment.

It was a teaser, I guess. He went to the buttons at the top of my dress and unbuttoned them. Leaving my bra on, he shoved it up and out of the way before beginning a long and unmerciful teasing of those two globes with rock hard nipples attached. I moaned and squirmed under his touch.

Eventually he pulled me back snuggly against him and slipped his hand down my stomach again, pausing slightly to explore my heaving stomach before finding his target again. Then it started.

First one finger, then two. Sometimes fast and strong, almost out of control. At others, slow and methodical. My hips churned and danced at his touch as if I were a puppet. He extracted orgasms from me at will, sometimes as I begged and at other times teasing and punishing me unmercifully with his touch before allowing my release.

I was so lost in it I never realized we had arrived. He had to remove his hand in order to shift gears when we came off the freeway. I shuddered all of a sudden and started putting myself together. As we approached my house in the dark I realized it was much, much later then the nine o'clock he had projected. Not only had we left late but also he had obviously lowered his speed considerably in order to accommodate his activities.

I was looking for my panties and I guess he knew it. He reached down and picked them up off the floorboard.

"You can't have these. I promised them to Stephen."

"No-o-o-o," I let it out slowly. His brother knew this was going to happen? So much for it being spontaneity between two people in a wrong place, wrong time thing. Who else would know?

I was buttoned up and out of the car. It was time to go home, to be in my safe haven. Unfortunately, my legs were weak and wobbling and my body was sending a message to me.

And, as much as I regret admitting it, that message was definitely not "I've had enough." Instead there was still a burning, churning sensation totally enveloping my body and senses.

After all those orgasms in the past two hours or so it was if I had been deprived of final closure. It must have shown.

Gary acted as a gentleman. Thank goodness there was somebody there to be a responsible adult.

"I'll let you in." He held out his hand for my keys. I stumbled through a bumbling "thank you" and dug for them. Somehow it didn't seem at all threatening or out of place when he entered the house with me and walked about to check it out before he was to leave.

I should have known better. This was a game about which I knew nothing. I guess it showed, at best, I was exactly what and who I was at the time. A little country bumpkin way in over her head.

Through all the maneuvering and walking around to "Check it out before I leave," we had somehow ended up in the spare bedroom and I was standing at the edge of the bed. Without any fanfare, any subtle warning, two things happened.

First, he took me in his arms and pulled me to him, engaging me in a long, deep kiss that I was not in the frame of mind to pull away from. Second, and I have no idea when he did it or how long they had been there, I became aware of the hands under my dress softly massaging the globes of my ass. Worse than that, I sensed my hips slowly moving back and forth in response to his touch. How long had I been accommodating him?

In the erotic stupor I was in, I hesitated but made no effort to pull away or push his hands away. He knew I was aware of his hands and I was making no effort to remove them. I might as well have issued him a "take me" coupon.

He slid a hand around and in front, slipping a large finger into me in one quick, smooth movement. He didn't stop to rub my lips or tease my clit, but rather deftly slipped his entire finger up me without even so much as a hesitation.

I don't know what was the greatest sensation, the overall surprise of his sudden intrusion or the pure pleasure provided by the digits rapidly entering me. Either way, I moaned and bucked forward against his hand. My mouth became glued to his as I wrapped my arms tightly around his neck.

We were long past any notion that I was anything but an easy target by then. Knowing I had surrendered, he began a steady, slow plunging action with the finger. Slowly he disconnected from me and turned me around. When I felt the hem of my dress go up, I glanced to one side and then the other to see where he was, but he was behind me and in complete control.

"Please, Gary, you need to go." I had enough wits about me to know that I was in a situation way beyond my abilities to resolve.

"Soon." I felt him pull the hem of my dress up over my back, fully exposing my "ass man's dream" to him with no cover, just those two mounds presenting themselves for his view. I had been outside tanning myself quite a bit and there was a strip of white against my dark skin where my thong had been.

"Nice tan. This didn't come from a tanning booth!" His lips touched my ass, moving slowly along the white lines left by the skimpy thong. Finally, he removed his finger from me. Thinking I was getting a reprieve, I let out a sigh and dropped my head on the bed. My ass lurched forward with the sudden departure and, even though I was relieved it was over, I admitted the finger had had been much more than just arousing.

He pulled me to my feet and with a red face and a hanging head, I started to smooth out my dress, thinking he was about to leave. Instead, he turned me around to face him and without a word pushed me back on the bed.

"No-o-o-o-o, Gary! Don't!" It certainly wasn't what I was expecting. As I hit the bed my skirt flew up high on my hips and my legs opened. He reached down and held my legs wide, anticipating my intention to clasp them shut. He dropped down immediately in between them so that when I did I was simply clasping his body between my open legs.

"You look wonderful!" Not needing his hands to keep my legs parted, he had shoved my dress up above my waist and was looking straight into my exposed crotch. I turned my head and cringed under his gaze.

I knew what he was seeing and admiring. He was looking at a deep, dark thatch against white skin. And in the middle of it all I knew that there was a wide open, red glistening pussy with a clit so swollen I'm sure it looked like a walnut.

I didn't answer. I knew he wasn't looking for one, nor did he need any further invitation. Looking up at me, he very, very slowly put his hands under my knees and lifted them up. When he had them positioned where he wanted them, I was spread wide open with my knees spread to each side of my body. Looking between my open legs into my eyes, he slowly lowered his head. I lurched at the initial touch of his tongue sliding between my lips.

"N-o-o-o-o, please don't, Gary." I vaguely remember the words coming out, but he didn't pay any more attention to them then what I meant. It was a feeble last minute attempt to save me from debauchery, and he knew it was no more than that.

In fact, I made no attempt to push him away and within minutes was holding the back of his head with both my hands, encouraging him on by my slow gyrations against his face and the constant low moans escaping from my mouth.

It occurred to me that, even if it was illicit, I was getting my fantasy fulfilled. All the girls at work had them about him and laughed about it. I was secretly one of them, too. Now here I was with his head between my legs, just as I had envisioned in my sordid little daydreams. He was a master at this and I knew it was not going to be a whirlwind, blow your mind real quick experience that I had become accustomed to with Don.

Instead, he teased me forever before he even let his tongue touch my clit. When he finally did and I started going into a small convulsion indicating an imminent orgasm, he backed off. I yelped and moaned at the delay, but was appeased to some extent when he started licking my pussy and ass to keep me on that delicious high.

"What do you like?" He had control and started the teasing. I had gone through this before in my past and didn't know whether to dread or look forward to the certain tantalizing teasing that was to come. I didn't answer his question.