Stolen Moments (29 page)

“Yes, darlin’, we are very alone. There is nobody on this floor, and once this room is occupied, nobody else can enter without a confirm code from the person or persons inside, which happens to be me.”

I know your mischievous mind and I see it begin to work as you grin even bigger.

“You mean, we’re alone alone?”

“Yes, totally.”

You sit on one of the bunks, gazing around the room, then sliding a sly look at me. “Are the beds comfortable, Miss?”

“Try it yourself.”

You sit on the bed across from me, bouncing a bit, as though testing a mattress in a sleep-center showroom. I know full well what you’re thinking. “Go ahead, lie down and get comfortable.”

When you do, I move over to the bed across from you.

You ask, “Won’t we get in trouble?”

“No,” I tell you with a smile. “I’m the one in control of the room tonight, and as long as we straighten up the beds, no one will ever be the wiser if we…um…chat a bit—you on your bed, me on mine.”

I sit on my bed, looking at you lying there on a bed in an under-ground, cold war–era bunker now housing state-of-the-art security systems, and think,
Nobody in the world could get in here unless I let them in
. “I have a meeting tonight at seven, so we have about three hours free.”

You smile that devilish grin of yours and innocently say, “Hmm…I wonder how we shall spend it? What exactly do you have to…uh…
do
tonight, my dear?”

My heart twists. You are so beautiful, so vibrant, that look in your eye intensifying, yet softening at the same time. I’ve come to know that look so well, and yet each time it fills me with unquenchable desire.

With your smoldering gaze fixed on me, I realize my hand has strayed to the top of my shirt, slipping it open. Oblivious to our surroundings, I slowly unbutton my shirt and pull it from my skirt, letting it fall to the floor. Your eyes take in my body as I stand there in just my skirt and a bra. My hands find their way to the waistband. I undo the button inside and let the skirt fall to the floor. You swallow hard as you take in my small frame and generous breasts, covered only by my baby blue bra and matching panties. I love to watch you watch me, and teasingly, I place a hand on my breast and run my fingers over the smooth material of my bra. My nipple comes to life, making a very noticeable bump in the shiny fabric. Your eyes are dreamy, and I smile as I see your hand drift slowly to your lap. I know what my teasing is doing to you and it inflames my desire further.

Passing my hand over my breast again and tugging the nipple through the material, I move my other hand across my stomach, caressing as I go. Slowly stroking down to the panty line, fingernails dipping under the waistband, watching you follow my hand as it disappears ever so slowly into my panties. Your eyes widen, your tongue licks your lips, your hand twitches in your lap as you watch this dance I have started for you. I see your heartbeat in the side of your neck and your body tensing slightly as you watch me standing there before you, next to your bed, in my panties and bra.

I move my hand across my body to the top of my breast, and my fingertips find the lacy edge of my bra, inching ever so slowly inside. I smile as you become more and more flustered, your hand in your lap dipping slightly between your legs now. My hand is inside my panties, wrist disappearing as I reach down and inside, your eyes glancing from my panties to my bra and back again. I draw my hand out of my panties and raise my middle finger, glistening wet. I watch your breasts swell and move as you breathe deeply, so turned on from my obvious desire. With my other hand still caressing my nipple, I raise my fingers to my lips and taste myself with the tip of my tongue. You groan at the sight. I insert my finger into my mouth and pleasure in your body writhing there on the bed. “What’s the matter, darlin’? Is there something you need?”

Your answer is in your eyes.

I lick and suck my finger slowly, savoring the saltiness of my desire, knowing exactly what my actions are doing to you. Your hand, between your legs, is groping and pushing; your other hand rubs the nipple under your shirt. Your eyes are glued on my slender, wet middle finger as it moves down my belly again, and when it once again disappears beneath the soft, baby blue material of my panties, I say, “You think I should share…?”

*

I look at you standing there, wearing nothing but your intimates, as you slide your hand down your panties once again. The throbbing inside me is almost unbearable and I feel the wetness spread—I want you so badly! I watch as your hand begins to move back and forth, subtly stroking, your nipples hardening so they look as if they’re going to burst right out of your bra. A red flush begins between your breasts as you stroke, moving up your chest to your neck. I raise my gaze to your eyes, which are lowered, but still looking at me—knowing what you are doing to me—and your lips curl into a deliciously teasing smile.

I simply can’t stand it anymore. I unbutton my own shirt as slowly and deliberately as you did, pausing to touch my breasts, stroking my nipples through the lace until they ache for release. I shrug off my shirt, leaving only my black lace bra. Then I start on my pants, unbuttoning and unzipping them, then lowering them enough to reveal matching black lace panties. I see your eyes widen.

“I wore them just for you, baby.”

You are so surprised, the sensual stroking rhythm you had going stops, so I reach toward you and say, “Come here, beautiful—let me see if I can help you out a little.”

I take your hand, draw you to me, and pull you down to lie next to me on the narrow bed. You grab hold and I feel your body shake—not from fear of falling, but in anticipation of what is to come. I pull you close, saying, “Better hang on, darlin’. I want to take you someplace you’ve never been before.”

Then I take your hand, still wet and glistening from being inside you, and touch it to my lips, kissing each finger, inhaling your scent. Slowly, I envelop your fingers in my mouth, sucking and licking each one, lingering over your middle finger. When I finish, I lean close to you and brush your lips with mine, running my tongue around them, parting them to gently explore your full, luscious mouth. Our tongues meet and you taste yourself on me. And just as quickly as I have given you a taste, I pull back, covering your face with tender little kisses, sliding my lips down your neck, feeling your pulse race as each touch inflames you that much more.

Your hand is still in mine, and I ask you if you want to know what you are doing to me. You nod silently, eyes burning with anticipation. I slide my pants completely off and take your hand, first placing it on my breast, letting you feel the hardness of my nipples. Then I slide your hand down the curves of my body, feeling the heat rise as you touch me. With my hand on top of yours, I slip your hand inside my panties. As it continues in, I move mine over so you can feel the panties slide over the back of your hand, a feeling I know you love. I guide you farther, pressing your fingers up until I feel you touch my wetness. As hard as I try, I can’t keep from shaking. My nipples harden even more. I close my eyes to the sensation and unconsciously move my hips back and forth. When I open my eyes, you are quivering, shaking with desire, and I take my hand and slide it into your panties, into your wetness…your most intimate place.

I gently squeeze your clit with my thumb and forefinger, and you gasp, responding with your own squeeze. I moan, feeling the fire in me burning out of control. I stroke you—your wetness all over my fingers, my hand—feeling the racing of your heart even there. You press against me again, willing my hand inside you, and I almost give in. I want you so, but I slow my hand, reaching to stop yours touching me as well.

“Baby, not yet…I have so much I want to do to you first.”

With great difficulty, you slow your breathing, but your desire is plain. Still, you say, “As you wish, baby.”

I turn toward you, claim your breast. I caress the outside, feeling the nipple under the fabric—but it’s not enough. I lean over you, letting my lips suck your nipples through the fabric—but it’s not enough. I want to
feel
you. I reach for your bra and with one snap, your breasts break free, nipples hard and beautiful. I lower my face to them, burying myself in your scent and warmth. Your hands are in my hair, stroking my neck, my back, your nails running across my skin until I have nothing but goose bumps standing up everywhere. I take your breast into my mouth, feeling the nipple harden as my wet tongue encircles it. At first, I suck gently, enjoying the feel of you swelling in my mouth. I hear you softly moan, and I know exactly what I am doing to you. As I suck your nipples, my left hand explores your body—moving across your belly, down your thigh, touching your inner thigh, teasing you with a soft stroke of my finger as it slides between your legs, through your wetness. Just as quickly, I move back up, stroking and pinching one breast as I suck the other. You start moving your hips to the rhythm of my sucking and touching, urging me on.

Taking your nipple between my teeth, I graze it, pulling harder with each pass. Your moans turn into gasps. I keep sucking and biting, a little harder each time, stroking you with my hand as I go, knowing I am driving you crazy. Your hand grabs mine and tries to lead it to the heat inside. I give in, sliding my hand between your legs, stroking you, circling your clit with my thumb, feeling your excitement grow as you moan more loudly. Rubbing back and forth in your wetness, I slide one finger inside, moving it in and out, slowly. You gasp. Then I slide it completely out.

When I slide two fingers in with the next motion, you whisper, “God, baby, you feel so good…please don’t stop…”

I stroke slowly, feeling your excitement grow. I look at you, your eyelids lowered in passion, beseeching me to love you. “Miss, you are so beautiful…I love how you feel…how my hand feels inside you…how you respond to me…but it’s not time…” And I slowly remove my hand. A cry of frustration escapes your lips as you reach toward me, imploring me to continue, but I resist.

“What’s wrong, darlin’?” I say, mimicking your earlier words in that sweet Southern accent. “Is there somethin’ you need?”

Fiercely, I pull your mouth to mine, filling you with a kiss that makes the fires burn even hotter. You return my kiss with an urgency I’ve never felt, a passion fueled by the love we started. Lost in our kiss, I don’t notice that you have pushed me onto my back and moved on top of me. Our lips part slightly, and you gaze at me with a white-hot fire in your eyes. Cocking your head, you look down at me with a slight grin as you see my surprise at the turn of events.

“I think we’ve had enough
teasing
for the moment, don’t you, darlin’?” Your hips begin to gently rock against me. “In fact, sweetheart, I’d say it’s about time you learn exactly who is in control.”

You pin my hands above my head, leaning down to kiss me. Our tongues embrace as your hips rock faster. I feel your wetness on my thigh and press my leg into you harder, hearing you gasp at the increased pressure. You release my hands and go straight to my core, sliding your fingers inside me, bringing a cry of pleasure from my lips. I move my hand inside you, furiously stroking your wetness, knowing you are moments from coming. Amidst the frenzy of touching, stroking, kissing, our cries fill the silent room.

“Oh, Jay, God don’t stop…I’m almost there…”

“Damn, baby…I’m coming…”

The blaring sound of an alarm fills the air. I jerk my head up, frantically searching for the shutoff. I breathe in a sigh of relief as I hit the control panel and switch it off. Sheepishly, I glance around, realizing that I am still alone at my desk, the security board blinking normal as usual, and the racy pulp novel open to the last page I read…before falling asleep.

C’mon, Kirsten,” my roommate Julie said one brisk fall afternoon. “Jennifer, Jackie, Jillian, and I are going to the mall!”

I glanced at my watch and frowned. “God, Julie, I hate dissing you like this, but I really need to go to the libe and get this paper done.”

She sat down next to me on our little dorm-room couch and put her hand on my thigh. “Oh, c’mon, you’re acing all your classes as it is.” She squeezed my knee. “’Sides, the new Leonardo DiCaprio flick is out. He is so hot!” She jumped up and looked at herself in the mirror. “Does this lipstick go with my blouse?”

I rolled my eyes. “Julie, you always look perfect.” And she did. She was the captain of the cheerleaders in high school—and everything about her was perky and perfect—from her clothes to her makeup to her gestures and body. Everything about her was beautiful and…perfect. Especially her body…

She had incredible, firm breasts that had no need of a Wonderbra. Her legs were tanned and toned—even her thighs! And her tummy was flat without being overdeveloped. Her hair was long, wavy and blond, naturally, and her features were defined without losing their softness. And of course, in keeping with all this perfection, her eyes were green, the deep green of newly cut grass in spring.

“You know, you’re never going to meet Mr. Right if you never go out,” she said, turning to me.

“Jules, I went to the bar with you Thursday night, I went to the movies with you on Tuesday, I went to the mall and the frat party with you last weekend—I just need to work today, okay?”

“Well, if that’s the way you’re going to be… Think you’ll be up for a slumber party tomorrow night?”

Just then Jennifer, Jackie, and Jillian came to the door.