Chapter 2

Thomas unlocked the door and escorted Lynne into the suite. He pressed a switch to turn on some lighting. "Oh, this is nice," she remarked.

"It is, indeed. It comes with a well-stocked bar. Care for another drink? There's some dry vermouth here."

"Are you having one?"

"I was going to make a Manhattan."

"What goes into that?" she asked. "I'm not much on mixed drinks."

"It's a second cousin to a martini -- made with whiskey instead of gin and sweet vermouth instead of dry ... and, add a dash of bitters."

"I'll try one of those."

"Let me go get some ice." Thomas grabbed the ice bucket and headed out the door. Lynne stood by a large window and looked out at the city.

Thomas returned with the ice bucket and busied himself mixing the drinks. "This is quite a view," Lynne remarked.

"Yeah ... Last night I slept with the drapes wide open."

"I think you could get away with that up here."

He handed her a cocktail glass and then clinked his rim to hers. "Cheers," he said.

"Cheers..." She sipped from hers. "Mmm ... It's strong ... but smooth and tasty." She looked at him. "Tell me -- does this dress telegraph, street-walker?"

"Not at all. It telegraphs, nice girl."

"Debbie insisted I wear this tonight. She was afraid if, left to my own devices, I'd come up with something too trashy."

"I don't think that's likely. You look sensational in it, Lynne. What does this outfit telegraph?" he asked, tugging on his jacket.

"Nice guy." She drained her glass and set it down, then approached him. Her heart was beginning to pound again as she stood, facing him and looking him in his eyes. She moistened her lips with her tongue. In her knees Lynne was beginning to feel the effects of the Manhattan.

They faced each other for a long moment; then Thomas made a move. With the back of his finger he caressed her cheek. "You do have pretty eyes..." He smiled. "You're not going to bolt, this time, are you?"

She shook her head. "Uhn-uhn ... Not this time."

"Your eyes look like they have a bit of Asian influence to them ... the shape, I mean."

"I don't have any Asian ancestors that I know of," she replied.

"They're gorgeous eyes, Lynne..." Thomas ran his finger through her hair. "Your hair is like silk."

"I know I'm blessed with good hair."

"It's so luxurious."

They continued gazing into each other's eyes. Lynne moistened her lips again and flashed a faint smile. Thomas started to lean toward her and hesitated.

Then, he closed his eyes and moved in. Lynne closed her eyes and felt his lips against hers. They kissed. Thomas caressed the back of her head and they kissed again.

He led her to the sofa, sat and coaxed her onto his lap. "Lynne -- it's been a long time for me."

"A long time for me, too."

"We don't have to do this," he said.

"I didn't have to come up here with you," she replied. "I wanted to. Can we put aside the troubles that got us where we both are, just for a moment? And, then live in that moment?"

"That is the best suggestion I've heard all day." Thomas kissed her lips again and she felt his tongue against them. She relaxed her jaw and he eased his tongue into her mouth. She drew back, caressing it with her lips.

He ran his hand along her knee and thigh. "Smooth legs," he remarked. "Pretty ones, too."

Thomas ran his finger along the neckline of her dress. He cupped his hand over her breast and she could feel his warmth. "Do you think," she asked, "that it would be appropriate to adjourn to the bedroom?"

"I thought you'd never ask."

"Let me do one thing, first..." She opened her bag and rummaged through it until she found a hair tie. Using it, she pulled her hair back and into a long ponytail.

"I liked your hair when you had it down," he said.

"This will keep it from getting in the way."

Taking his hand she walked with him into the suite's bedroom. "Look at that bed," she remarked. "This is amazing, Thomas."

"Do you want me to close the drapes?" he asked.

"No. I think we can leave them open. I doubt anyone could see in. Maybe turn off the lights."

Thomas pressed a switch on the wall. "I think having just the city lights is romantic," he said.

"I think so, too."

Lynne stepped out of her shoes. She turned her back to him. "Unzip me." Thomas gently pulled down the tab of her zipper. She hiked up the hem of her dress and lifted it over her head.

"I guess since the governor isn't in town they could afford to give it to me," he said as he slipped off his jacket. Lynne approached him and began unbuttoning his shirt. She pulled the tails from his waistband, unbuttoned the sleeves and he slipped it off.

Lynne tugged on his belt to loosen it. She unbuttoned and unzipped his pants and slid them down. As he stepped out of them she slid his socks off his feet. Then, she stood and ran her hands along his legs and hips. "You're no ninety- eight-pound weakling now," she remarked.

"I've put on some weight."

"You've put on some muscle, too. You have a nice build, Thomas ... and I like it that you're not too hairy."

Thomas picked up his pants and socks and set them on a chair. Lynne again turned her back to him, reached around and unhooked her bra. She faced him and lowered it.

His jaw slackened. "Lynne ... you are gorgeous. You have one sensational body." He turned back the covers. "After you."

"Wait -- one more thing." She picked up her bag and retrieved the strip of condoms.

"You came prepared," he remarked.

"Debbie insisted I have these with me. Always think positive," she said.

"Good for Debbie."

Lynne set the condoms on a nightstand. She slid between the sheets. "Ooh ... You sink into this mattress."

"Yes ... It's comfy."

Lynne lay facing him and they caressed each other's faces. Thomas traced his finger down her neck to her sternum and around the perimeter of her compact, B-cup sized breast. "You have a nice body," he remarked.

"Not bad for an old lady, huh?" she said.

"You're not old ... How old are you? If you don't mind..."

"I'm thirty-two."

"Holy moly -- I thought you were my age."

"Why, how old are you?"

"I'm twenty-eight."

"I didn't think you could even be twenty-five," she remarked.

"At least, I'm older than your minimum."

"My minimum?"

"Don't you know that rule of thumb? If a couple has an age difference, you take the older one's age, divide by two and add seven. That gives you the age below which a relationship with the younger one ... is indecent. You're thirty- two. Half of that is sixteen, add seven and you get twenty-three. I'm comfortably past your minimum."

"I had never heard that..." She stroked his cheek. "I like talking with you, Thomas. You put me at ease."

"I enjoy talking with you, too."

He continued stroking her breast with the backs of his fingers. "Lovely," he said. "Gorgeous breasts. I love your pretty, perky nipples."

"I'm happy with them," she replied. "When I was younger I envied the more well endowed girls. Now, I'm happy not to be one of them."

"I have always valued quality over quantity," he said, "and yours are exceptional." He ran his fingertips across her light tan, silver dollar sized areola and nipple.

It was touch that Lynne had been hungering for. The sensation went straight to her clit, already lightly engorged. Thomas continued his stroking, caressing her breasts and now and then running his fingertips or knuckles across her nipples. "They're getting firm and tall," he remarked.

"They like what you're doing," she replied. "I like your pacing."

"My pacing?"

"You seem to know exactly when I need more touch."

"Touch like this?" He ran his fingers across her left nipple.

"Yes ... You seem to know just when I need more."

"And I give you more?"

"No. You deny me for half a second ... and then, you give me more. It makes me anticipate it ... want it ... need it."

"Anticipation is good," he said.

Lynne rolled onto her back. Thomas turned back the covers. "Are you warm enough?" he asked.

"I'm good ... I'm comfortable."

He knelt near her hips and began smoothing his hands along her arms, down her sides to her hips and back up again, catching her nipples with his thumbs. "This feels so good," she purred. "It feels like your worshipping my body."

"Converts are the most devout," he remarked and began focusing his touch on her breasts, stroking them from under her arm, squeezing them and ending with a pinch and a gentle tug on her nipples.

Lynne's clit was now so fully engorged it felt like a marble. She closed her eyes and parted her lips. Her breathing became light panting through open mouth, and she lifted her arms above her head. She drew in a breath to expand her ribcage and arched her back to press her flesh into his hands. "Oh," she gasped. "Thomas -- I don't think I've ever been this aroused in my life."

Thomas grabbed one of the pillows and, placing it under his head he lay facing her. Coaxing her onto her right side he kissed her left breast and drew it into his mouth. With his right hand he caressed her shoulder blade.

Lynne put her hand on the back of his head and pressed his face against her chest. He nursed, caressed the smooth skin of her areola with his tongue and massaged her nipple against his palate. "Thomas -- I like how you're holding me ... Other side?"

He let her breast fall from his mouth and she released his head. She rolled onto her back and he began mouthing her right breast and deeply massaging her left areola and nipple, slick with his saliva. Lynne held his head and caressed his back as he nursed.

She let go of his head. He sat up again and ran his hand along her body, down her hips and along her legs. "You have such pretty legs," he said. "Those thighs are as smooth and firm as on a marble statue."

"You're flattering me."

"I don't flatter," he said. "I don't make hollow compliments. You have a spectacular body."

"For..."

"For?"

"For a thirty-something."

"No," he replied. "You have a spectacular body. That's not flattery. It's the truth." He smoothed his hands along her hips and grasped the waistband of her briefs. She lifted her hips and he slid them down her legs. "You've made them wet," he remarked.

"It's oozing out of me. This all feels so good."

Thomas caressed her mons, running his fingers through her patch of dark pubic hair. "Nice bush," he remarked. "So many women are shaving them clean these days."

"Do you know that from direct experience?" she asked.

"No ... but I haven't been living under a rock, either. Personally, I don't find pre-pubescent girls arousing and I don't find grown women who look pre-pubescent arousing either. I'm glad you kept yours natural."

"I happen to hate razor burn."

He ran his hand along her thigh and, on the upstroke, caressed her labia. Lynne lifted her knees and let them fall to the sides. "Pretty pussy," he remarked and caressed between her lips. Each time he connected with her clit she felt a jolt of sensation that made muscles in her belly and thighs jerk.

Thomas stretched out beside her and slipped his arm under her shoulders. He smoothed his hand along the inside of her thigh, worked his finger into her slit and lubricated it with her copious juices. Then, he began rhythmically stroking her clitoral shaft. "Is this a good spot?" he asked.

"Down a little ... over to the side ... other side. Yes, there. Right there ... Mmm..."

"Touch me," he said.

Lynne caressed his arm and then his breast, running her fingers through a patch of chest hair over his sternum. She teased his nipples.

Her arousal was building -- she could feel the sexual tension increasing in her loins. Her heart was pounding and starting to race; and her breathing became heavy, loud panting. Thomas was maintaining a steady cadence of his stroking -- something she needed in order to come.

"Oh, God," she gasped. "I'm getting close ... close to a strong one. Don't change it -- don't change anything."

Thomas looked in her face. Her eyes were half closed, her mouth wide open and her breathing heavy. He leaned over her and pressed his lips against her left breast; then he drew her nipple into his mouth and bit it gently.

That sent another jolt of sensation straight to Lynne's clit and she exploded into orgasm -- moaning, gasping, drawing up her legs and arching her back. Muscles in her abdomen jerked and in an instance his touch was too much for her to bear. She reached down and cupped her hand over her vulva, pushing his hand away.

She could still feel the reverberations of her climax. Her arousal faded and she felt a mellow satisfaction washing over her. Her breathing and her heart slowed. She opened her eyes and looked at him.