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Subject: {ASSM} RP - "Priceless" by Nick Scipio - Pt 1 (MF, oral, safe)
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Author: Nick Scipio
Title: Priceless
Part: 1
Universe: Jazz Club
Summary: Ethan and Kate plan to spend Sunday together. From 
breakfast in bed to after-dinner cognac, it's a day 
filled with surprises and sex.
Keywords: MF, oral, safe
Revision: 2.0
Word Count: 7,119
Web Site: http://www.nickscipio.com/shortstories/jazzclub/
FTP Site: ftp://ftp.nickscipio.com/shortstories/jazzclub/
Discussion Forum: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Scipio_Forum/

*****************************************************************
                       STANDARD DISCLAIMER

This piece of fiction is intended as ADULT entertainment. It 
contains material of an adult, explicit, SEXUAL nature. If you 
are offended by sexually explicit content or language, please DO 
NOT read any further.

All characters in this story are fictitious; any similarity to 
any persons, places, individuals or situations is purely 
coincidental. The author does not necessarily condone or endorse 
any of the activities described in this story.

This story may not be reproduced in any form for profit without 
the written permission of the author, Nick Scipio 
(nick_scipio@yahoo.com). This story may be freely distributed 
with this disclaimer attached.

Copyright (c) 2003-2005 Nick Scipio. All rights reserved.

*****************************************************************

Priceless
by Nick Scipio

PART ONE

Friday morning found me in my office early, a little before 
eight. With the holiday schedule, no one else was in yet and I 
was mentally going over my day. I still hadn't had time to do 
more than think about my upcoming date with Kate. I lamented that 
fact for only a moment before I began to think about Kate 
herself.

I ran through the events of Tuesday night in my head. I pictured 
her lying on the light-colored wood of her breakfast table, legs 
spread to accommodate my hips. In my mind, my hands roamed over 
her skin as she worked her inner muscles, massaging my cock.

In the real world, I felt myself stiffening, and shifted to let 
my dick expand.

Tuesday. Kate had ridden me to a climax, her body writhing in the 
throes of an orgasm as her pussy gripped me fiercely. The 
moonlight had gently lit her second-story master bedroom, casting 
a soft light on her breasts, her distended nipples so hard under 
my palms.

I shifted in my office chair and felt my member reach its full 
length.

My imagination fast-forwarded to what I wanted to do to Kate when 
I saw her on Sunday. I wanted to fuck her from behind, my hands 
on her ass, holding her in place, my hips slamming into...

....my watch alarm. I shook off the thoughts of Kate's long back and 
gently flared hips, and reached to my wrist to shut off the 
alarm. With an inward groan, I returned my mind to business.

I had a conference call scheduled, and then I was going to let 
Brad Behr have the entire weekend to code. The Russians had sent 
him everything they could recover (which wasn't much), along with 
a rough translation of Stasya's notes.

I'd wanted to talk to Brad at eight in the morning, but he'd 
finally cajoled me into calling at eight thirty. I don't know 
what that extra half-hour of sleep was going to do for him, but 
I'd conceded the point.

Now it was time to get Brad out of bed and make sure things were 
set for his marathon weekend. I wanted the Russians on the line 
as well, just in case Brad needed anything at the last minute. 
The time difference between the East Coast and Moscow was the 
reason for the early morning call.

I put on my phone headset and dialed the number for AT&T. An 
operator answered quickly, and I gave him my account number and 
call setup information. Next, I gave him the numbers for Dima and 
Kolya in our Moscow office, and finally, the number for Brad 
Behr. The operator clicked off the line to make the calls. A few 
minutes later, I heard Dima speaking in Russian to someone in the 
background.

"Dobre dyen, Dmitri Arkadievich," I said.

"Dobre utra, Ethan Borisevich," Dima said, a smile in his voice 
as he remembered the time differential and wished me a good 
morning.

I smiled to myself as well, although for a different reason. I 
wondered how my father, Bruce, would like having his name 
transmuted into Boris for my Russian patronymic.

"How are things going, Dima?" I asked.

"Good, Ethan. Good. Kolya has the SourceSafe server restored, but 
we will need to..."

We heard a click as Kolya joined the conference call.

"I will let Kolya himself tell you, Ethan," Dima said.

"Previet, Nikolai Gennadievich," I said.

"Hello, Ethan," Kolya replied, sounding distracted. "Tell him 
about what?"

"The SourceSafe server, Kolya," Dima said.

"Oh, that! Well, it's not completely fucked, but it's close. I'll 
tell you that for nothing."

I could almost hear Dima wince at Kolya's blunt appraisal.

"What's the problem?" I asked reasonably.

Kolya quickly outlined--in fairly technical terms--the problems 
with their server. "But I can fix it," he said brightly, clearly 
eager for the challenge.

"That's good to hear," I said.

"Da, Ethan. It is," Dima said, smoothly cutting off Kolya. "It 
means that we can make the final builds here."

"Of course," I said.

He was still trying to salvage what he could for his team, and I 
couldn't blame him. This project was worth a lot of money to 
them, especially with the economy in Russia. If Dima and his team 
could still provide the majority of what their job parameters 
called for, they'd receive the majority of their fees.

I liked the Russians, and what happened had been completely 
unforeseen, but I still had a business to run. If they couldn't 
meet all the job specs, they wouldn't receive the full contract 
payment. Dima had a top-notch team, so I wasn't worried about 
them being able to complete the remainder of the project.

I looked at my watch and wondered what was keeping Brad. I 
decided to talk with Dima and Kolya until he joined us.

"How is Stasya doing?" I asked, changing the subject.

"Much better," Dima said. "Her fever is down to thirty-eight 
degrees. The doctors say she could come home in a few days, maybe 
a week. Perhaps, Ethan, she could pick up where she..."

"Nyet," I said, gently but firmly. "Brad will finish the 
networking code."

Since I hadn't talked to Stasya myself, I had no way to decide 
whether or not she could handle the tough deadline. She was 
effectively out of the picture. Besides, I thought darkly to 
myself, if I had to, I could fly to DC and baby-sit Brad until he 
got my code done.

"Da. I understand," Dima said with a sigh. "Nichivo."

Click.

"Mornin' boss," Brad said in a sleepy voice.

Speak of the devil, I thought to myself.

"I just got t' sleep a couple hours ago," he said, yawning 
mightily. "Tell that operator guy that if he wakes me up again, 
I'll post his personal info all over the gay dating sites with 
the nickname 'Twink4Life'."

"He might like that, Brad," I said, suppressing a laugh.

"Yeah. Whatever. I just wanna get back to sleep."

Brad was a night owl, so I wasn't worried about the fact that he 
wanted to get back to bed. I knew he'd be back up in a few hours, 
ready to work through the weekend.

"Okay," I said. "Now that we've got everyone here..."

"Minutka, Ethan," Dima said, interrupting me. "Lev is here, and 
will join us. He will make the builds until Stasya returns. I 
gave him the number to call in."

Sure enough, there was a click as Lev joined the call.

"Ethan?" Lev said. "I am here."

"Horosho, Lev," I said. "Brad, since Lev and Kolya don't speak 
English, let's do this in Russian. I'll translate for you."

"No problemo, boss man." He yawned again. "I wanna keep this 
short and sweet."

Brad started talking about the project and I began relaying 
information between him and the Russians. He had gotten the files 
from Moscow, as well as Stasya's notes. The notes, he growled, 
were "fucking useless tripe," but everything else was good. 
Stasya, like Brad, worked mostly in her head, and I could only 
imagine the paucity of notes that had been e-mailed to him.

During the conversation, the only problem I had was translating 
some of the more obscure technical details between Brad and Lev. 
Fortunately, most of the technical words were cognates, so Brad 
and Lev quickly picked up the gist of what the other was trying 
to say. Thank God, I thought to myself, that American software 
(and our jargon) dominated the programming world.

In less than half an hour, Brad had all the information he 
needed, with promises from Lev to send the completed COM objects 
and the test data they'd been using. Once the technical details 
were settled, Brad turned surly again, said a quick goodbye, and 
hung up, presumably to go back to sleep. Kolya and Lev hung up as 
well, but I asked Dima to stay on the line for a moment.

"Have you actually been to see Stasya?" I asked.

"Da. I saw her in hospital yesterday."

"Horosho. How is she?"

"She is much better," he said brightly. I could tell that he was 
putting the best spin on her condition, ever the business 
manager, trying to save the project for his team.

"How is she, really?" I asked.

Once he realized I wasn't buying the act, Dima sighed heavily. 
"She's better, Ethan. But still very weak."

"How long will she be in hospital?"

"A week, at least. Two, more likely."

I could tell that Dima was genuinely worried. He cared about his 
people, which made him a good manager.

"Buy her some chocolate, from me. The good stuff, too. Belgian. 
Or Swiss. And get her some flowers. Tell her I hope she's feeling 
better soon. Also, tell her I'm not upset about the project, it 
could've happened to anyone."

"She will appreciate that. You know she blames herself?"

"Da. I know how she is. Tell her... nichivo." I smiled when I said 
that, and I knew Dima could hear it in my voice. I knew a thing 
or two about Russian fatalism.

"Spacibo, Ethan," he said.

"You're welcome. I'll talk to you on Monday. Paka, Dima."

"Paka."

-----

After I hung up, I took off my headset and rubbed my eyes. I 
looked at my watch--a little past nine thirty--and called my 
assistant, Marcie.

"What's up?" she asked, sticking her head in my office.

"Please wire two hundred dollars from my personal account to 
Dmitri Kovalenko."

"Sure thing. Anything else?"

"Yeah. You know where I can get a really nice dress?"

"Huh?" she asked.

"I need a good dress shop. Something high end, with really nice 
dresses."

"Sure." She had a twinkle in her eye, and her normally cheerful 
expression was quickly replaced by a wry grin.

"Well?"

"I know a couple of places, actually. But I don't know if they'd 
have anything in your size."

"Marcie!" I felt my face heating up as my blush spread.

"Sorry, boss," she said. She didn't stop grinning, though. "Try a 
shop called 'Couture du Monde,' in West Hills Centre. You know 
the place?"

"I know where West Hills Centre is, but I don't know the shop."

"I'm not surprised," she said. "It's actually at the corner of 
the two rows of shops, under the breezeway that leads to the back 
parking lot. Unless you know it's there, you'll miss it."

"Evidently," I said sardonically.

"You want the information or not?"

"Okay, okay. I apologize. Thanks for the advice."

"Mind if I ask what it's for?" she asked, still grinning.

"My coming out party."

She snorted derisively and then laughed. "Make sure I get an 
invitation to that party, boss."

"Will do, Marcie," I said with a grin. "Thanks again."

"No problem. You need anything else before I get to this wire 
transfer?"

"No, not really. You feel like taking the rest of the day off?" I 
asked her.

"With you, or by myself?" she asked.

I grinned at her and shook my head in mock sadness. "Without me."

"Only if you don't need me doing stuff here."

Marcie was serious about her job and it was one of the many 
things I loved about her. The fact that she put up with me was 
pretty important too, but I always knew I could count on her to 
do her job well. That was worth more than anything else.

"No, I won't need you," I said. "I've just got to make some 
personal calls. Tell everyone else they can knock off too. Take 
the rest of the afternoon and get some last-minute Christmas 
shopping done."

"Thanks, Ethan," she said, genuinely grateful. "I'll spread the 
word."

There were only four of us in the office, so giving everyone the 
afternoon off wasn't going to affect our business one way or the 
other. It was simply something nice I could do for them, so I did 
it. When we were on a deadline, I was sometimes an ogre to work 
for, but everyone knew that when we weren't killing ourselves to 
get a project done, I tried to be a nice boss.

"You can shear a sheep many times, but you can eat it only once," 
I recited to myself with a smile.

-----

After I talked to Marcie, I began to formulate a plan for my date 
with Kate. I wanted to play it safe, but I also wanted to do 
something she'd remember. I could simply spend money on her, but 
she made a good living and could spend money on herself any time. 
Her car, her house, her wardrobe--what I'd seen of it--and 
everything about her reflected this.

So I knew I wasn't going to "wow" her simply with expensive 
gifts. That left something truly creative or something that took 
my time and personal attention. I could think of something 
creative, but it was as likely to backfire as it was to succeed, 
so I decided on the time-and-personal-attention route.

I put my phone headset back on and started making calls. The 
first was to Kate's office. I got her receptionist and was told 
she was at the hospital. I gave the receptionist my name, told 
her it was personal, and left the numbers for both my direct 
office line and my cell phone.

I browsed to the Yellow Pages Online, and started looking up a 
few of the numbers I'd need to call. My office phone rang less 
than five minutes later. The Caller ID labeled the call as 
Private, but I knew who it was.

"Hello," I said.

"Ethan?"

"Hi, Kate. Do you have a minute?"

I could hear background noise over the phone, and then it 
abruptly ceased. "Sure. I was hoping you'd call."

"Oh?"

"I want to see you. I don't want to wait until Sunday."

"I don't want to wait either," I said.

"Good! You can come over..."

"But I'm not gonna," I said, mirth shading my tone. I almost 
laughed out loud at the silence on the other end of the phone. 
"Are you there?" I asked teasingly.

"I'm here. I'm just not used to being told no."

"It's character-building, Kate."

"I've got enough character," she said. "I want you."

"And I want you too." My dick was already stiffening, just at the 
sound of the desire in her voice.

"Soon," she said.

"Sunday."

"Sooner."

I couldn't help but grin at her tenacity, and I was suddenly glad 
she couldn't see me. "Trust me."

"What if I say no? What if I say I can't see you on Sunday? What 
if I say it's now or never?" she asked.

"Then I'll be very disappointed. If that happens, I'll just have 
to stay at home all day, lying in bed, and fantasize about you."

"You wouldn't," she accused.

"I wouldn't want to," I said. "But if you can't see me on 
Sunday..."

"Hold on there, big fella," she said. "I didn't say I couldn't 
see you."

I grinned and let the silence draw out.

"Okay. You win!" she exclaimed.

"Good. I like the prize."

"Oh you do, do you?!"

"Mmm hmm."

Much to my relief, she laughed lightly. "So, what are we going to 
do all day Sunday?" she asked.

"It's a surprise."

"What kind of surprise?"

"Haven't we already been through this before? If I told you, it 
wouldn't be a surprise. But that's beside the point," I said, 
teasing her. "I need to know what time I can pick you up. Is nine 
okay for you? I'll bring you breakfast."

"In bed?"

I thought back to the last time she'd enjoyed her "breakfast" in 
bed, and my cock stiffened completely. I shifted in my seat to 
ease some of the pressure. "If you're a good girl," I said.

"Oh, I'll be a very good girl."

"I bet you will." I imagined the possibilities, but quickly 
became serious again. "Next question: what's your schedule look 
like on Monday?"

"The office at seven."

"Okay. Thanks."

"That's it?" she asked.

"Yep."

"You won't tell me anything about Sunday?"

"Sure," I said. "I'll tell you the most important thing about 
Sunday."

"You're not serious."

"Yeah, I am."

"Okay," she said. "I'll bite. What's the most important thing 
about Sunday?"

"Well...," I said, drawing the word out. I could almost hear her 
leaning forward, waiting to hear what I said next. "The most 
important thing about Sunday is... I'm really, really looking 
forward to spending the day with you."

"You!" Her strangled cry was incredibly rewarding.

I grinned smugly and was once again thankful she couldn't see me. 
"I'm serious, Kate," I said. "I really am looking forward to 
spending the day together."

"Mmmmm. Me too," she said.

-----

Once I got off the phone with Kate, I started calling around and 
making the arrangements for Sunday. First, I called the boutique 
Marcie had recommended and made sure they'd be open on Sunday. 
The woman who answered the phone assured me they would be open 
for "Christmas hours," from ten in the morning until eight in the 
evening.

After I hung up with the boutique, Marcie stuck her head in and 
told me she'd wired the money to Dmitri. Then she grinned at me.

"Hot date, Ethan?"

My ear-to-ear smile told her all she needed to know.

"I hope the young lady in question survives the experience," she 
said flippantly, then turned to go.

Marcie was older than me, very adventurous, and very married. She 
also knew more about my personal life than almost anyone in the 
company, except perhaps Gabriel. Since we were a small company, 
what she knew amounted to a whole lot. With Marcie, I also had 
the sexual tension two people can maintain when they know the 
other one could be interested, but the relationship isn't going 
to become anything more. She was married, and I respected that.

I'd had more than my fair share of office romances in the past, 
but I hadn't had one in quite a while. They're not bad, 
necessarily, but they're not for me anymore. When you're part 
owner of the company, there's a lot more at stake than just your 
job. My future was on the line if I decided I wanted to date 
women from the office. In our lawsuit-crazy society, the 
potential for problems was just too great. I like my future. I 
could find companionship outside the office.

At the moment, the companionship I was interested in, Kate, 
needed a few appointments made for her. Fortunately for me, it 
only took a few more phone calls to accomplish all I needed to. 
When I was done, Marcie shamelessly stuck her head back in my 
office. Her office is right next to mine, and since there were so 
few people at work, I hadn't bothered to shut my door as I made 
calls.

"I hope she's worth all that," she said, half serious, half 
teasing.

"Oh, she is, Marcie. She is."

She smiled her approval and I sighed inwardly. Marcie was the 
best assistant I'd ever had, and I literally could not do my job 
without her. She had not liked my last girlfriend, Charlotte.

Truth be told, I hadn't liked Charlotte all that much either. Not 
after the first few weeks, anyway. She was one of the very few 
fashion-model-type girlfriends I've had. She was 5'11", built 
like a Playmate, and turned heads wherever she went. While the 
sex was really good, she was suspicious, manipulative, 
vindictive, and petty.

I didn't need that kind of headache in my life, so we'd parted 
ways several months ago. I'm not a mean-spirited person, but I 
still chuckle whenever I remember the look on her face as I told 
her I was breaking up with her. I think it was a new experience 
for her. Like the TV ad says, some things are priceless.

Before Charlotte, there had been Veronica. Veronica had been 
darkly attractive and a complete firecracker. She didn't do 
anything in half-measures. Sex with her had always been exciting, 
and more than once, I'd come to work wincing as my shirt rubbed 
against scratches on my back. But one of the major problems 
between us had been sexual. She didn't like oral sex at all, 
giving or receiving. At first, I thought she was just 
inexperienced, and she might enjoy it once she'd given it a try. 
I was wrong. She told me, in no uncertain terms, that the idea of 
having "that thing" in her mouth revolted her.

I lived with it because I didn't want to seem selfish. But oral 
sex is pretty important to me, and as things progressed, I 
realized that the oral sex hang-up was only the tip of the 
iceberg. Veronica had some serious issues with a lot of things 
(honesty, as it turned out, being one of the big ones).

Finally, she'd called me at work one day and asked to stop by my 
house to pick up her things. Her husband--husband?!--had decided 
to take her back, and she was breaking up with me. It was one of 
the more surreal breakups I'd had, but I can't say I was all that 
hurt by it since I'd already decided it was time to move on.

Marcie hadn't liked Veronica either, and I was beginning to 
suspect that she was a fairly good barometer for my 
relationships. Finally, I shook off thoughts of Charlotte and 
Veronica, smiled to myself, and thought of Kate. If things worked 
out between us, Marcie would meet her sooner or later. I 
sincerely hoped they'd like each other. Having a girlfriend and 
an assistant who don't get along is not something I'd recommend 
for the faint of heart.

"Well, I hope you two have a good time," Marcie said, breaking my 
train of thought. "Everyone else has left already, and I'm headed 
out the door now."

"Thanks, Marcie. Have a great weekend. Say 'hi' to Darren for 
me."

"You too. I will," she said. With a wave, she was gone.

-----

I had a few things to buy before Sunday, so I checked my e-mail 
one last time (nothing from Brad or the Russian team, which was a 
good sign), shut down the few other programs I had running, and 
left the office.

It was the Friday before Christmas, and traffic around our 
building--which is near a major shopping center--was snarled. I 
merged into it and almost immediately regretted leaving the 
office. Oh well, I thought to myself, I had to get out sooner or 
later.

My errands took me the better part of the afternoon, but it was 
worth it. I bought or borrowed everything I would need for the 
weekend. I went over my mental list one more time and, satisfied, 
headed back into traffic.

Friday is one of my normal workout days, so I stopped by the gym 
on the way home. I prefer free weights, but without a workout 
partner, I was better off with the machines. An hour and a half 
later, I was tired, but felt immensely better. I've always 
enjoyed how I feel after a good, hard workout. I took a quick 
shower, changed back into my street clothes, and headed home.

-----

All day Saturday, it took every ounce of willpower I possessed to 
keep myself from calling Kate. I felt like I was going to my high 
school prom, all over again. I'd made all my plans, and waited 
with barely suppressed anticipation.

I tried to keep myself busy, doing things around the house. I did 
a little work from my home office, but I still thought of her on 
every occasion.

After a quick lunch, I wrapped all the presents that had arrived 
the week before, used the computer to print out nice gift tags, 
and took care of the last of my pre-Christmas shipments. Thank 
God for FedEx--everything should get to my far-flung family by 
Christmas Eve. I was planning to spend several days with my 
brother, Neil, and his family in North Carolina, so I merely had 
to take their presents with me when I drove to their house.

Once I had all my wrapping and shipping done, I called Neil's 
house. His wife, Dani, assured me that the kids were looking 
forward to my visit almost as much as they were looking forward 
to Santa Claus. I told her that I was still planning to arrive 
Tuesday evening, and she wished me a safe trip.

When I got off the phone, I settled down to watch a movie on 
satellite and ordered a pizza. The movie wasn't bad and neither 
was the pizza. I stuck the leftovers in the refrigerator for... 
whenever... and headed into my home office. After a desultory check 
of e-mail (no problems), I shut everything off and headed to bed.

Since I had a big day planned, I wanted to get to sleep early, 
but found I was wide awake. The anticipation made me tingle. As I 
stared at the ceiling, I realized I was nervous, a sure sign that 
I really liked Kate. I grinned to myself, rolled over, and tried 
once again to fall asleep. I felt like a teenager before his 
first big date. I got an erection just thinking about her, but I 
refused to jerk off.

At long last, my erection subsided and I drifted off to sleep.

-----

My alarm went off Sunday morning and I practically leapt out of 
bed. I showered and shaved, wrapped my towel around my waist, and 
then went through the rest of my morning routine. When I was 
done, I threw on a clean t-shirt and some running shorts. I took 
a Prada suit out of my closet, picked out shirts and ties, and 
hung everything together on the bathroom door. I made sure a pair 
of black dress shoes was shined, and set them out for later. 
Afterward, I dressed in a comfortable shirt and a pair of blue 
chinos.

Once I was dressed, I made the bed, tossed a few clothes into my 
hamper, and generally picked up my bedroom. I had a housekeeper 
to take care of the regular cleaning. She'd been to the house on 
Thursday, so nothing really needed to be straightened up. I took 
a quick walk through the house to make sure it was presentable, 
and found everything in order. Shortly before eight thirty, I was 
out the door.

On the way to Kate's house, I stopped by a bakery to pick up 
several fresh bagels and two small tubs of cream cheese spread, 
one plain and one lox. I'm not a coffee drinker, and I couldn't 
remember whether or not Kate had a coffee maker in her kitchen 
(I'd been a little occupied the last time I'd been there), so I 
got two bottles of orange juice.

With that, I headed toward her house. When I turned into her 
subdivision, I noticed that the large steel gate was retracted. 
In front of the tracks for the gate was a wooden arm with 
reflectors on it. It wouldn't stop a determined intruder like the 
metal gate would, but it served its purpose effectively. I pulled 
up and stopped.

One of the benefits of living in Northshore Terrace was 24-hour 
security, and the guard came out of his post, bundled to ward off 
the cold. I lowered my window as he approached.

"Good morning, sir. Who are you here to see today?" he asked.

"Dr. Kirilov."

He made a note on the clipboard he carried. "And her address, 
sir?" He was polite and well-trained, so his skepticism didn't 
actually extend to his expression.

I froze for a moment and wracked my brain. Her house number was 
108... It was the second street on the right... Then the first cul-
de-sac... I struggled to remember the name of her street. I'd been 
a little preoccupied the only time I'd seen the street sign and I 
silently cursed myself for not confirming her address when I 
spoke to her on Friday. Worse, I didn't even have her home phone 
number, so I couldn't call her and ask.

I ran through the events of Tuesday night in my mind, trying to 
separate the memories of Kate sucking my cock from the images I'd 
seen as I turned onto her street. I looked at him sheepishly and...

"108 Lakeview Circle!" I blurted, suddenly picturing the lights 
of her Lexus sweeping across the reflective green-and-white of 
her street sign.

He suppressed a grin. "Thank you, sir. And your name?" he asked.

"Ethan Mackenzie"

"Your license plate number?"

I gave him the number and he duly noted it.

"Thank you very much, sir. Let me just get the gate for you. Have 
a nice day."

"You too. Thanks."

He took a step back, into the warmth of his little building, and 
pressed a button. The wooden barrier immediately lifted, and I 
started forward. I drove around to Kate's house and pulled into 
her driveway at nine o'clock on the nose.

I grabbed the bakery bag and hopped out of the car. I rang her 
doorbell and almost immediately heard movement behind her front 
door. When it opened, I found I was holding my breath.

"Hi," Kate said.

She looked... delicious. She was wearing a dark blue silk robe that 
set off her eyes, and the fabric was so fine that it left little 
to the imagination. Her hair was pulled up and held with a clip, 
and it looked like she wasn't wearing makeup. I hadn't thought it 
possible, but she looked better than I remembered.

"Brrrrr," she said. "It's cold out there. Are you going to come 
in?"

I grinned and quickly stepped into the warmth of her house. She 
closed the door behind me, and before I even had a chance to take 
off my jacket, she put her arms around my midsection and pulled 
me close. One hand still holding the white bakery bag, I wrapped 
my arms around her. She tilted her head back in an unmistakable 
gesture, and I leaned down to kiss her.

When her lips met mine, her tongue darted into my mouth and she 
pressed her body against me. The kiss heated up, and I ran my 
hand (the one not holding the bag) down her back. I slid my palm 
along her thigh and then under her robe to cup her bare ass.

She broke the kiss and giggled. "Your hands are cold!"

I grinned and stepped back. Kate, however, had other ideas. She 
sank to her knees in front of me and began to work on my zipper. 
I'd been thinking about her body, and her lips, the entire drive 
over, and my cock was already semi-erect. She deftly reached into 
my boxers and withdrew my stiffening manhood. In less than a 
second, she had her lips wrapped around my glans.

My head swam as she opened her mouth and swallowed more of my 
length. Soon, I was completely erect, and Kate had more than half 
my cock in her mouth. She moaned as she sucked me, while I merely 
watched, enraptured, as she moved her lips back and forth over my 
shaft.

She sucked me for a few minutes, caressing my sensitive skin with 
her tongue, and then pulled back. When she looked up at me, she 
kissed the tip of my dick with shiny red lips, and smiled. I 
helped her to her feet and she grasped my hard-on, squeezing 
gently. I pulled her close and she stroked me. When I bent my 
head down, she lifted her lips to meet mine, and we shared a 
passionate kiss.

I pulled back and she practically leered at me as she moved 
toward the stairs, leading me by the most obvious handle. Once in 
her bedroom, she had me undressed in less than a minute. Before 
the last of my clothes hit the floor, I stepped toward her, 
reaching between us for the belt of her robe.

When I seized one end of it, she grinned and backed away from me, 
untying the loose knot as she did. I almost chuckled when she 
twirled and shed the robe, leaving me holding the slack end of 
the belt. In the soft light filtering through her blinds, I 
admired her nude body.

As I walked toward her, she pulled the clip from her hair and 
shook out her dark tresses. She tossed the clip aside and turned, 
pushing me onto her unmade bed. When she straddled my hips, I ran 
my hands up her flanks and felt her shiver at my touch. My hands 
had warmed, so I knew it wasn't a chill that made her quiver.

Kate kissed me again, pressing her lips to mine and grinding her 
pelvis against my stomach. When she pulled back, she looked at me 
with hungry eyes.

"It's not nice to make me wait," she said.

I grinned shamelessly.

"You wouldn't be smiling if I'd said I had other plans."

I reached around her thighs and ran my hands down the crack of 
her ass. When my right hand encountered the smooth skin of her 
pussy, I pushed two fingers between her labia. She was already 
incredibly wet, and I quickly found her engorged clit.

"You don't have other plans, do you?" I asked.

I moved my finger against the pearl of nerves and she whimpered, 
clutching my shoulders and holding herself against me. When she 
didn't answer me, I gently pinched the hooded base of her clit 
and rubbed my ring finger along her dripping slit.

"Do you have other plans?" I moved my fingers around her clit and 
back over her labia, causing her to moan deep inside her chest. 
"Hmmm?" I asked, teasing her.

She only shook her head, her silken hair tickling my shoulder as 
she did.

"So you want me to stay?" I asked softly.

A nod.

"Do you want me to stop?"

A headshake.

"What do you want me to do?"

A whimper.

I grinned to myself and lay back in bed, pulling her with me. 
Finally, she seemed to muster some control over her limbs. She 
shook off her lustful stupor and slid down my body, dragging her 
smooth pussy over my cock and making me shudder. I felt her kneel 
between my legs and take my erection back into her mouth.

She put her hands on my thighs and lowered her lips over my 
shaft, taking me as deep as she could. I felt the ring of muscle 
at the back of her throat grip me as she swallowed, and I groaned 
in pleasure at the sensation. She pulled her lips off me, kissed 
down one side of my shaft and then back up the other.

I heard her fumble at the nightstand, and knew she was reaching 
for a condom. Her lips briefly left my cock, and I felt her roll 
the latex sheath over my length. I looked down my torso and 
watched her climb onto my hips and hover over me, reaching down 
to aim my dick at her opening. Without preamble, she settled onto 
my manhood, sighing as I filled her.

I put my hands on her hips and she gripped my arms. Her shiny 
hair formed a veil around her face as she looked down at me with 
lust-glazed eyes. I smiled up at her and clenched my PC muscle, 
making my cock swell within her. She closed her eyes in ecstasy 
and began to ride me.

As she moved her hips over me, I slid my hands up her torso and 
cupped her breasts, gently rolling her nipples between my 
fingers. She moaned and I began to tug on them, twisting and 
pulling as her arousal mounted. 

I've rarely seen a more beautiful sight than Kate, flushed with 
excitement, gently grinding her hips and pressing her clit 
against me. Her breath began to whistle through her nostrils as 
she closed her eyes and concentrated on her orgasm. I continued 
to pull on her nipples, driving her toward her climax.

I felt a rush of moisture around the base of my cock and her 
pussy clutched at me. She stopped moving and shuddered, 
collapsing against my chest, her orgasm crashing over her in a 
wave. I gripped her ass cheeks and clenched my PC muscle again, 
making my cock swell and press against her inner muscles. I did 
it several times in a row, and she moaned, still in the throes of 
ecstasy.

When her orgasm subsided, she gripped my shoulders fiercely and 
laid her head on my chest, breathing heavily. I lowered my hips a 
little and began to thrust into her slowly. Kate trembled, and I 
knew she was very close to a second release. With short thrusts, 
I stabbed into her. When my cock swelled with my own climax, she 
joined me.

Her vaginal muscles clamped down on me and arrested the flow of 
semen. I gritted my teeth and groaned at the sensation, then 
clamped my eyes shut as the pressure built. When it released, and 
I once again began spurting into the condom, I cried out and 
tried to thrust myself deeper inside her.

Finally, my spurting slowed to a few gushes, and I lowered my 
hips and relaxed my muscles. We panted from the force of our 
orgasms and I felt her body go limp. I hugged her to me and 
reveled in the feeling of her pussy gripping my tumescent cock.

-----

After we cleaned up a bit, I retrieved the bakery bag. Still 
nude, we sat in the middle of her bed like sybarites and ate our 
breakfast. I was ravenously hungry, and practically wolfed down 
my bagel (with lox spread), washing it down with orange juice. 
Kate was much more composed as she nibbled at her bagel--tearing 
off pieces and putting them in her mouth--but we were both 
infectiously grinning at each other the whole time.

"So," she asked. "What's the plan for today."

"You are relentless, aren't you?"

"Yep," she said with a smug grin.

"Well, as much as I hate keeping you in the dark," I said, 
practically dripping irony, "I want to keep some of today as a 
surprise. Let's just say that I've got an 'all about Kate' day 
planned."

She raised her eyebrows, clearly wanting more information.

"I will tell you we've got reservations for dinner at Marie-
Claire's, and the rest of the day is geared toward that."

Marie-Claire's was a four-star French restaurant downtown. It was 
built in the cellar of an old cooperage, and had a tasteful 
ambiance, reminiscent of Paris. A few other restaurants in town 
had more cachet, or higher prices, but none had better cuisine.

I was friends with the owner and executive chef, Marie-Claire 
herself, and had been since I dated her younger sister, Arianne. 
Arianne was now married, and we had an easy, friendly 
relationship. Marie-Claire and I had always gotten along well, 
and we still talked occasionally.

When I called the restaurant on Friday, I spoke to Marie-Claire, 
and she reserved a private room for Kate and me. The restaurant 
had excellent food, top notch service, and an atmosphere of 
intimacy, so most of the tables were usually booked well in 
advance. But I knew they always tried to keep a few tables open 
for important guests and VIPs. I certainly wasn't a VIP, but 
being friends with the owner always has its advantages.

Kate raised her eyebrows appreciatively. "You got reservations on 
such short notice?"

I shrugged, in truly Gallic fashion, and smiled coyly.

"Okay," she asked, her eyes shining, "what else do you have 
planned? Or were you just going to wine and dine me, and then try 
to get into my panties?"

The fact that we were sitting in the middle of her bed--still 
nude and with the aroma of sex lingering in the air--was too much 
for me, and I laughed richly. Kate smirked and arched an eyebrow.

"Actually," I said. "I was hoping you might forego the panties."

Both eyebrows went up.

"It'll make my job easier," I said, as earnestly as I could.

It was her turn to laugh. When she stopped, she moved the bakery 
bag aside, careful lest she spill any crumbs, and scooted toward 
me. She hooked her legs over my thighs and slid forward until her 
smooth pussy was nearly touching my dick. I put my hands on her 
hips and she wrapped her arms around my neck, pulling me down to 
her. We kissed, gently at first, but with increasing enthusiasm. 
When she pulled back, she stared at me with unfocused eyes.

"I knew you'd be a good kisser," she said softly, and leaned back 
in.

I pulled her closer to me, pressing my limp member against her 
sex, and our kiss intensified. Her nipples pressed into my 
abdomen, and I put my hands against the small of her back, 
holding her against me.

We stayed like that for a long time, teasing and tasting each 
other with lips and tongues. I let my hands roam freely over her 
toned body, tantalizing her with my caresses.

I pulled back from her, and she nipped at my lower lip. I leaned 
forward and kissed her again, but then broke the kiss.

"We've got a big day planned," I said. "We need to get going." It 
was already after ten o'clock.

"You're still not going to tell me what you've got planned?"

"Nope. You'll see."

-----

Continued in Part 2

-----

Copyright (c) 2003-2005 Nick Scipio. All rights reserved.

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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