Butterscotch Part 2
Introduction:
The continuation of my first story. This part is a little different. All comments are most welcome.
I set Tamsin down gently on my bed. She looked up at me submissively, giving me her undivided attention and not even glancing at the room, as I would have expected. It was as if she had been there before. I smiled. The subtlety of this woman was as alluring as her audacity. I knelt on the bed next to her as she reclined luxuriously on the plump, white pillows; her hair framing her face like a golden halo. I lit some candles and turned down the lights. I then felt a hand pass over my butt cheeks and reach around to grasp my cock. I turned to see a pair of beautiful, mystical eyes burning blue in the half-light. Those eyes made the entire world around us disappear as if it had been the flimsiest of illusions.
I lay next to her and slipped my arm under her neck, bringing her face up to mine. Her tongue instantly found its way into my mouth, followed by fiery bursts of breath that became more and more intense as we kissed. Her hand meanwhile was working its enchantment on my cock; flicking the foreskin back and forth slowly, pulling me towards her and massaging my shaft with ever increasing fervor. She did this so well that I was soon as hard as granite. Suddenly she stopped and grasped the back of my neck,
“Fuck me.”
I ran a couple of fingers over her pussy lips. She was very wet. She spread her legs as I climbed on top of her. I paused as she gripped the head of my cock and guided it into her. It’s absolutely wonderful when a woman does that – taking control. I felt intense gratitude mingled with the most delicious desire, my spine tingled and I felt myself growing even harder.
Intuitively, I thrust into her slowly, taking the opportunity to massage her pussy lips with the head of my cock. She purred but then I felt the pressure of her palms on both my butt cheeks as she encouraged me to go deeper. I did, and what my cock found in the innermost depths of this woman was nothing short of pure bliss. Her pussy was unbelievably smooth and silky, yet she gripped my cock firmly as I thrust into her again and again with only my balls stopping me from going still deeper. After a few minutes I shifted slightly and looked at her face. She opened her eyes and I saw them filled with pure emotion and sublime lust. She then shifted her legs and rested them on my lower back. Any pressure just there was a great turn on, so I thrust into her harder; gripping the bed post with one hand to increase the force of my thrusts. After a little of this, a change came over her. She dug her nails into both my shoulders and held me tighter with her legs. I knew exactly what to do – I kept up a regular, powerful rhythm. Quietly at first, she started to moan, then her voice grew louder and louder as she was trapped in a torrent of passion. I lunged into her one final time and she gasped. It was the last utterance in a hymn of sweet surrender.
I felt a hand lazily running through the locks of my hair and heard musical notes of contentment leave her throat. She smiled; her wide blue eyes losing none of their brilliance in the candlelight. My cock was still buried deep inside her, now possessively caressed by her velvet depths. It had found a cozy new home.
“Use me, use my cunt, my body, any way you like, I’m all yours,” she whispered in my ear.
I bit my bottom lip and pulled out of her; the sudden coolness of the room serving to awaken my cock to new possibilities, to new delights.
I flipped onto my back and drew her closer. She instantly understood and carefully climbed onto me. I looked down to catch a glimpse, between her golden breasts, of my glistening cock arching towards me. It was then snugly returned to the moist haven from which it had been removed and I immediately felt it harden appreciatively.
As she began to rock back and forth, Tamsin’s hair fell down around her face, obscuring everything but her dreamy eyes. If ever there was a scene to inspire pure lust in me, this was it. Becoming accustomed to the feel of me inside her again, she met my every thrust with a counter stroke. Her hands held onto my shoulders like the talons of a falcon and her perfect breasts swung tantalizingly past my mouth like a pair of ripe mangoes dripping with nectar. I longed to reach up and lick them. All this time her breathing and the soft moans that she made were pure music to my ears. It was almost too much.
I held her by the waist and with every down-stroke I ground her clit gently against me. The effect was wonderful to see; pleasure was written all over her face. But this part of our love-making was not about her, I reminded myself, it was about me.
I made her stop and I swung my feet onto the floor. Standing behind her, I pulled her butt towards me. She got onto all fours eagerly and threw her head back. I spread her butt cheeks gently and slipped my cock into her. I held her by the waist and by the shoulders and she began to thrust into me.
This woman’s beauty was a multi-dimensional force; each aspect of her was as beautiful as any other. Now I gazed upon her arched back, her shoulders splashed by flaxen hair and upon her delicate waist and hips. I ran my fingers between her butt cheeks getting a glimpse of her bottom. My balls swung freely in their sublime abandon and I now felt her hand rub and squeeze them. This was my cue to thrust into her harder and she responded by pulling her but cheeks apart with one immaculately manicured hand. She must have read the book on arousal; once I saw her do this I felt that the time for restraint was past. I grabbed her shoulders and brought all my strength to bear on the task.
I shut my eyes as I felt a tingle at the base of my spine. I took a deep breath – fuel for what was to follow. My balls tightened and my cock reached the apogee of hardness. I was still. Time stopped and the only thing I was conscious of was the adamantine grip I now had on her shoulders. Then wave after shuddering wave of pure delight coursed through every inch of my body. I drew breath like a newborn; almost painfully, as though my lungs had never tasted air before. Then at last, the tempest subsided.
She leant forward slowly allowing my cock to escape. She then turned to face me, beaming like a cat that had just caught a prized goldfinch.
“Lie back and relax a little while I lick our juices from your cock,” she purred, “Oh and I promise to be gentle,” she added with her sly smile.
I lay back on the pillow and watched her as she wound her fingers around my drenched and still erect shaft. She started at the head and shut her eyes, her tongue and lips savoring my every fold as if the cock in her mouth was a cone of gelato.
At times she would look at me and her eyes would smile, then she would return to her task with renewed enthusiasm. She licked my balls, then returned to my shaft; finally positioning her mouth above it and sliding it deep into her salivating mouth. I felt her lips lock around me and suck up any last drops of my come that remained. I flinched slightly as I was becoming quite tender by now. In answer I saw her cold blue eyes unfold from their lids like the moon emerging from behind a bank of cloud on a summer’s night.
Could you hurt me, sweet lips, though I hurt you?
Men touch them and change in a trice
The lilies and langours of virtue
For the raptures and roses of vice…….
At this moment only poetry was capable of describing how I felt and even that seemed barely enough.
I glanced at the clock. It was way past midnight as we got up to shower. I washed her hair and sponged her down with lavender soap. I’ve always preferred the natural smell of a woman to artificial scents but she seemed to appreciate my efforts. We dried each other and she asked me what time it was. I told her and her eyes lit up,
“Can you be a darling and make me a cup of tea? White with none.” Her overt politeness and refined accent were irresistible.
After a few minutes I returned from the kitchen to find her sitting up in bed; topless, talking on her phone and with her laptop open.
“Yes, Tamsin Thorne. How are you Rudolf? Wie geht es dir? Gut, gut.
Yes, it’s still available. No, it’s not Trajan, it’s Hadrian. Are you looking at it now? Good, well you see on the obverse that is says; Imperator Caesar Traianus Hadrianus Augustus. Yes that’s right. Trajan was his immediate predecessor. It’s from 119 A.D.”
She paused, looking up at me, nodding thanks for the tea and smiling.
“Yes,” she continued, “he died in 138 A.D. I would grade it extremely fine. Ok, you’ll go for it? Excellent, just go ahead and pay via the website. You did it correctly last time.”
She giggled as the man on the other end of the line paid her a compliment.
“Es war schon geschafte mit ihnen.
It’s been nice doing business with you.
“Vielen dank Rudolf. Auf weidersehen.”
She clicked the phone shut and wriggled across to one side of the bed. I put the tea down, got in to bed next to her and looked at the screen of her laptop,
“So what’s Herr Rudolf just purchased?”
With a triumphant flick of the wrist she pointed to a yellow disc on the screen. It was a Roman aureus, a gold coin minted under the emperor Hadrian; one thousand, eight hundred and seventy years ago. Her obvious joy was something new to see but I understood when I realized that she had just made a sale worth five thousand pounds!
She soon fell asleep in my arms, spent and content. I looked down at her chest; rising and falling gently, her eyes; serenely shut but with lashes fluttering ever so slightly. Did she dream?
Hast thou heard the butterflies
What they say betwixt their wings?
Or in stillest evenings
With what voice the violet woos
To his heart the silver dews?
This night was anything but still. Outside, rain and wind pelted the glass balcony doors and I could see a swirling, spectral sky pulse with lightning. I blew out all the candles and held her close to me in the darkness. The smoke from the burning wax gave the room something of the aura of a Byzantine church. But no pallid saints were honoured here, no paradoxical trinity reigned. This was the domain of a goddess; sanguine and subtle, noble and nude and antique…
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
2:30pm Tuesday
The intercom chimed,
It was Margaret, our solidly middle class Irish office manager,
“Joshua, there’s a young lady called Artemisia Antiqua here to see you. She’s one of your clients? She doesn’t seem to have an appointment.”
“It’s ok Margaret, send her in. Thanks.”
A minute later I heard a click and there, framed in the chrome rectangle of the doorway was Tamsin. She wore small, rectangular sunglasses, her hair pulled back in a tight pony-tail with a fringe covering her forehead and a disquieting shade of dark red lipstick. She had an elegant black business suite on with a very short skirt. To complete the picture; high heels of black, metal studded leather showed off her legs to great advantage.
“Welcome to Marmaduke, Daintree and Partners, Miss Antiqua,” I said obsequiously.
She made no reply, merely sneering contemptuously at the mention of the firm’s name and strutting up beside me; her heels producing a staccato rat-tat-tat on the floor. She looked down at me as though I was some insignificant insect then roughly pulled my seat out from the desk. She spun me around to face her then ran a hand armed with pale violet talons ran down the side of my face, under my chin and across my chest. Rudely removing my tie, she threw it disdainfully across the room.
“Miss Antiqua, we are a respectable law firm. What is the meaning of this behavior?”
Still she said nothing; glaring at me instead with venomous eyes that I could just see behind the shades. She then dropped to her knees and violently pulled down my zipper, undid my belt and pants, pulled down my boxers and proceeded to pump the base of my cock.
“Miss Antiqua, I must protest most vehemently at this outrageous…..”
Fiercely the leopard growled, I was silenced and she returned to her kill.
I looked down to see an exquisitely fashioned face lapping at my nether regions. I shivered as my cock started to respond to her attentions. As my swelling shaft began to fill her mouth, she bobbed her head faster and faster, at the same time increasing the suction of her mouth and the pressure of her cheeks and tongue. For some reason I hit the play button on my CD player and the opening strains from the overture of Vivaldi’s opera Bajazet began to fill the room. The stately music contrasted piquantly with the scene before me – her tongue sliding up and down every inch of my cock. I took her sun glasses off and marveled at her eyes of arctic blue, framed by black penciled lines – giving them a distinctly Egyptian air. Even in their present attitude, they were transcendentally beautiful eyes. She shut them and switched to licking the underside of my shaft. I was getting harder and harder watching this torrid performance; set to the music of Vivaldi and all taking place in my lap.
Suddenly the aria ended – allegro con brio.
She stood up and performed a brief set of choreographic moves to the music of the maestro’s recitative.
Turning to face the window, she unbuttoned her skirt, peeled it off and threw it on the floor. She had absolutely nothing on underneath.
A hand grasped my backward curving cock and I watched it disappear deep into her tropical latitudes. She steadied herself on my desk and started to buck wildly. I could not move. My cock might have been a pinnacle of rock for all the activity that it was then capable of. So I sat back to watch her at work. Her exquisite butt now ground into me and my breathing rapidly deepened. Always alert, her cat like senses detected this and she slid her pussy harder and harder up and down the length of my shaft. After a few moments of this I felt powerful forces beginning to stir inside me. My juices were nearing boiling point when she sprang off me, turned gracefully around and locked her lips onto my cock. I felt the tip of her tongue tickle the head and her hands press the spot at the base where my surging juices had gathered. I let fly and saw her smile as her mouth quickly filled with warm liquid nourishment. I felt her swallow several times as she milked more and more out of me.
My fingers had left their impression in the arms of the chair and my feet had been wrapped tightly around its base. I finally relaxed; feeling totally drained and pleasantly sore. Hardly noticing me, she collected her skirt and walked over to the window to put it on. Gazing down onto the street idly, she then bent down to collect her handbag. As she gathered up her sun glasses from my desk I said,
“Marmaduke, Daintree and Partners thanks you for your business Miss Antiqua.”
She turned sharply and snarled at me ferociously with eyes like the blade of a samurai.
And she was gone.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
“Hello, Tamsin Thorne speaking.”
“Hi beautiful.”
“Hello Joshie, what are you up to sweetness?”
“Just got back to the office and I’m sitting here thinking of you. Are you busy?”
“No, not really. Just doing some research, as usual. The guys are out to lunch and I’m here all by my little self.”
“Sounds good. What are you researching?”
“Ancient kings, long vanished empires, lovelorn queens and beautiful courtesans – you know, the usual stuff.”
“No, tell me.”
“About what?”
“Well, let’s start with the courtesans.”
“Ok, have you heard of Phryne?”
“No.”
“Oh, you’ll like her. Not only was she intelligent and devastatingly gorgeous, but she could do things with her posterior that men would gladly squander their family fortunes for.”
“Mmmm, tell me more.”