Amanda's Young Men (2 page)

It was shoes that had brought them together. They’d met right here in their home town of Toronto, at the Bata Shoe Museum, when both had admired a pair of sparkling Louis XV rococo pumps. His interest in selling shoes and hers in wearing them had led to a whirlwind courtship and a vigorous honeymoon. The vigour was sporadic, now, but that had more to do with his being overworked and distracted than with any real waning of lust.

But not tonight!

Amanda paused long enough to rub another helping of creamy lotion into the smooth skin of her delicate little feet before slipping on the wedgies and making her way downstairs. In her sexually expectant state, even the simple act of descending was titillating. With each step she took, a cool little breeze sneaked up her skirt and tantalised her naked sex, reminding her that she was a very naughty girl. Oh boy!

Amanda had just dropped the seasoned steaks on the grill and started the microwave when she heard the front door open. She called out, ‘You’ve just time for a very quick shower, darling. Your robe’s hanging behind the bathroom door. We’ll be informal, so that’s all you need.’

‘I can take a hint,’ he shouted back.

Amanda moved back and forth, between the patio and the kitchen, anticipation putting a swing into every step. She tended to the steaks. The microwave pinged. She took out the potatoes, split them and added sour cream and chopped chives. By the time she’d poured the wine and set a bowl of strawberries in cream on the table, Roger was with her.

‘Yummy,’ he said.

‘The steaks are just the way you like them.’

‘Not the steaks – you.’ His fingers lifted one side of her loosely hanging jacket aside to fully expose her breast. ‘Dessert?’

She nodded towards the bowl she’d prepared. ‘Strawberries and cream.’

‘Your creamy skin and your strawberry nipples?’

She slapped his hand down playfully. ‘No, silly. Real strawberries and cream.’

‘If you’re good,’ he whispered in her ear, ‘I’ll let you be my bowl.’

‘I’ll be good,’ she replied. She batted her lashes and gave him a coy look. ‘I’ll be
very
good.’

He slid into the other side of the long rustic picnic table. Amanda joined him, opposite.

‘Lovely view,’ he said.

‘Eat your supper.’ She pushed his wineglass towards him.

Roger cut and ate his steak by instinct, it seemed. The entire time, his eyes were on her deep cleavage. Flattery like that deserves to be rewarded. Amanda pulled her feet out of her wedgies and stretched her legs out to set her soles on Roger’s bare insteps.

‘Nice feet,’ he said.

‘Thank you.’ She ran the toes of her right foot up behind his left calf. His back arched a fraction in appreciation. The sole of her left foot caressed its way up his left shin. With her feet between his knees, she pressed to each side, spreading his legs.

Roger licked his lips.

Amanda had to hitch her bottom forwards on her seat to reach as both of her feet crept up Roger’s thigh, parting his robe as they went.

‘So soft,’ he sighed. ‘Silken skin!’

Her right big toe burrowed gently under and between Roger’s balls, and wriggled. He put his fork down. His mouth went slack. Amanda’s left foot joined her right, squirming into the hot pocket beneath his impressively large scrotum. ‘Nice?’ she asked.

‘Mm.’

‘How about this?’ Her feet retreated a few inches, soles turned in, so that she could stroke them up both sides of his erection. It was quite a rush, being able to get him so excited using only her most distant extremities, which she considered her least sexual parts, her pretty little feet.

Roger leant back and shifted forwards on his seat before swigging his wine.

The ball of her left foot pressed his shaft into the hollow of her right foot’s arch and worked up and down, up and down. Amanda watched Roger’s face. He gave up on the last of his steak and gripped the edge of the table. His eyes hooded and lost focus. Amanda’s stroking accelerated. A tiny frown appeared between Roger’s eyes. His face took on an intense look. He sucked in a breath …

And Amanda stopped.

Roger grunted.

‘I could keep this up until you squirt all over my toes, if you like,’ she offered.

He cleared his throat. ‘Tempting, but don’t. I want to make love to you properly, Amanda.’

She raised an eyebrow. ‘You do? Why’s that?’

‘Because you’re the sexiest little minx any man could ever wish for, and you damn well know it, don’t you?’

‘It’s nice to hear. How do you want to make love to me? Tell me, darling. I love it when you talk dirty.’ Her toes gripped his shaft again, just for the pleasure of feeling its heat and satiny texture.

‘Missionary, doggy, sideways, hard and fast, deep and slow, loving and like a crazy animal – and you’d better stop what you’re doing right now or I’ll come.’

‘All that, for little me?’ she teased. Releasing him, she climbed up on to her bench seat. Very slowly, she lifted her skirt the few inches it took to expose her naked mound. ‘Is this what you want?’

His voice squeaked as he said, ‘You know it.’

‘And this? She turned and bent over stiff-legged to show him her bottom.

‘Amanda!’

She turned again and pouted at him. ‘And my mouth? There once was a time when you loved to use my mouth.’

‘Amanda, I adore your mouth.’

‘You like to fuck it, don’t you?’

‘And kiss it,’ he defended.

‘Both are good.’ She looked at his plate. ‘Are you going to take long with that?’

‘Not another minute.’

He stood up and wrapped his arms around Amanda’s naked thighs.

She squealed, ‘Unhand me, you brute!’

Roger faked a Victorian melodrama laugh. ‘Too late, me pretty. You’re in me power now!’

‘Oh no!’

He carried her to the other end of the table and laid her on it, on her back. The wood was brutally hard. Somehow, that made being crushed on to it even sexier. Roger captured Amanda’s mouth with his and kissed her until she started to tremble. When he released Amanda, her high spirits had been subsumed by a weightier emotion – desire.

She looked up at him, her lids half-lowered over her bright baby-blues. ‘What are you going to do to me, you monster?’

‘This!’ He lifted her heels and pressed them wide apart, obscenely exposing her to his admiring gaze. Holding her in place, Roger bent his face down to his wife’s sweet sex.

‘Oh, God, Roger, please …’ she moaned.

‘Mm.’ The tip of his tongue ran up from the pucker between her bottom’s cheeks, across her taut perineum and up to the slick nether lips that practically quivered in anticipation. ‘Yummy!’ His tongue squirmed into her.

Amanda held her breath, wanting to ask him to lap higher but not wanting to hurry him. It wouldn’t have done her any good, anyway. He, just like her, loved to tease.

His tongue worked from side to side. Roger had often told her how much he loved to consume her juices and, though it had been a while since he’d paid her that compliment, he didn’t seem to have lost his taste for her. His hands moved, crossing her ankles above her head so that one hand could hold her like that. What was he doing, reaching sideways? Oh yes – the strawberries and cream.

Amanda felt something very cool touch the delicate tissues that lined her sex. It withdrew, to be replaced by his tongue. That was new! He’d never put cream inside her, to eat, before. So, old dogs
can
learn new tricks.

Then the cream was being daubed on her little button. Yes! And something was probing inside her. From the feel of it, a very large strawberry was being worked in and out of her. It was strange; the rough berry’s texture, the cool smoothness of cream, her hot velveteen inner walls yielding to the shape of the fruit. Once Roger had established a rhythm with the strawberry he was pushing in and out of her, his lips closed on her cream-coated clit. He sucked and lapped and flicked it, making her more and more excited and still it went on and on and …

And he stopped.

‘Don’t stop!’

‘Say please?’

‘Please?’

‘Beg for it!’

‘I’m begging. Let me climax, please, Roger. I can come again, after. You know that!
Please
.’ Some irrational part of her honestly feared he’d stop, now, and keep her from the locked and loaded orgasm in her gut.

‘In that case …’ His licking resumed.

Amanda felt his fingertips curl up behind her pubic bone and massage her G-spot. She practically sobbed with relief. ‘Yes, Roger,’ she gasped. The orgasm launched without further delay. ‘Yes, yes, yes … Yes!’

Her legs tried to flail but Roger held fast, trapping the deep contractions inside her, or so it seemed. She groaned with each spasm. Relief mixed with satiation; it was so damn good to orgasm by his hands rather than her own. So goddamn good. Only when the last aftershock had shuddered through her did he release her ankles. She collapsed, as if sun and sex had melted her bones.

‘You’re the best, baby,’ she crooned, eyes half-closed. ‘The very best.’

‘Thank you.’ He loomed over her and bit into the strawberry that had been inside her. ‘Want a taste?’

She nodded dreamily.

He put the berry to her lips. ‘That looks sexy – the way your lips work on that strawberry,’ he said.

‘Let me up and I’ll show you something even sexier.’

Roger released her.

‘Your turn to get on to the table,’ she announced. Amanda stood, only slightly unsteady on her feet. The melting bliss of a moment earlier was gone and, more than she’d ever wanted anything in her life, or so it felt at that moment, she wanted it back.

‘OK.’ He sat, knees wide.

‘Lie back.’ She put her small hand to his big chest and pushed lightly. He fell back. His robe parted so that only the tie ran across his belly. She pulled the knot apart and the robe fell completely open. She observed his body as an artist might observe a blank canvas. Amanda placed a strawberry in his navel. She dabbed two dollops of cream on to his nipples, snow on his two dark little peaks. Amanda smiled at him, wanting to make him ask.

Roger shook his head slightly, smiling back. He wouldn’t try to rush her any more than she’d tried to rush him.

Amanda took a big scoop of cream in her fingers and slathered it up and down his rigid shaft.

‘Ahhhh. That’s nice,’ he said. He seemed to relax a little against the hard table.

‘I love cream,’ she told him. ‘Yours is my favourite, but this’ll do for now.’ She took him in hand, two fingers holding him delicately at his base while she ran her tongue up the length of him in one long slow slurp.

Roger’s hips twitched up at her.

Her lips closed over the head. It was usually hot in her mouth, feeling as if it had a fever, but the cream cooled it and made it slippery. She nodded, just a little, rubbing his crown against her hard palate, knowing how much he liked that. His moan didn’t surprise her. Amanda’s free hand found the strawberries and cream. Her fingers searched for a big berry. When she found one, she scooped up more cream on it and applied it gently to the tight knot of Roger’s rear passage. He’d never allowed her to penetrate him there, but he did enjoy having the sensitive ring of muscle tantalised.

Rotating the berry and applying just a tiny bit of pressure, Amanda began to work him with her mouth in earnest, lips smacking, tongue lapping, head bobbing, fingers gripping, all
progressively
harder, until he was hitting the back of her throat with each thrust.

Roger blurted, ‘No – stop!’

Amanda stopped. She raised her head.

‘Stop.’ He groaned.

‘But I like it when you come in my mouth.’ She smiled, her lips loose and wet.

‘I know, but not yet, my darling-slut.’ Roger rolled off the table, and shrugged off his robe, his naked body thick and powerful, his chest matted with dark hair, his manhood smooth and hard, rising from a thatch of crinkly pubic hair. ‘Here you go!’ He heaved her up bodily and perched her on the table’s very edge, so that her pussy was just beyond it. Amanda leant back on straight arms. Roger’s left hand lifted her minuscule skirt out of the way. His right steered his smooth rigid shaft to the parted lips. His hips pushed and he sank deep into her.

The thrust seemed to extend from his tip right into the dark pit of her belly. Amanda’s groan was deep, as if he’d forced it from her with the weight of his push.

‘I love it when you do me like this, Roger. Go slow, please, make it last.’ She shuddered. Her jacket slipped halfway off her shoulders.

Taking the hint, he leant over her and took her nipple between his lips.

She arched her back. ‘Oh yes, yes. Suck hard, please. Bite me.’ She felt his teeth, gripping hard enough to send electric shocks from her nipple to her clit, gentle enough to do no harm.

His head drew back, elongating her breast, before he released it. Roger’s hands cupped the cheeks of her bottom and lifted. She wrapped her arms around his neck and Roger stood, taking her clear of the table. Her legs folded around his hips. He jerked, throwing her upwards a few inches, and met her descent with an upwards thrust of his hips.

Older man? Yes, he was, but not so old he couldn’t make love to her free-standing. Obviously showing off, Roger strode around the patio and poolside. Each step was translated into a thrust into Amanda. She writhed, impaled on his pole. With his hips under the backs of her knees, she was able to grind her clit against his pubic bone. Her second orgasm hit, sudden and hard. She rode him through the contractions, then straight into another paroxysm that rocked her with pleasure.

Roger’s body stiffened. ‘Christ,’ he hissed. He stood stock still, his fingers gripping her bum hard as he flooded her insides.

‘Christ!’

He was bruising her now, his grip was so tight. She clung to him, clenching hard with her pelvic muscles as if to milk him of every last drop. ‘You’re incredible,’ she murmured when he’d stopped swearing. She gave him another experimental squeeze.

Roger couldn’t reply. He was still spurting. He staggered a couple of feet and toppled them both into the pool. They came up spluttering and laughing.

‘Enough?’ he asked. He trod water and leant to kiss her.