The Seduction Of Claudia (11 page)

Claudia quelled the feelings of embarrassment and vulnerability she felt at having him watch her and gave herself over to the experience. She decided to let go, to abandon her inhibitions and allow Andrew to enjoy her the way he so obviously wanted to. She spread her legs wider, caressed her inner thighs. She brought one hand to her mouth, wet her fingers, suggestively licking and sucking. She slicked her wet fingers over her hard nipples, while her other hand worked her pussy with motions that mimicked the hand at her breast. Her hips rolled against the movement of her hand; her eyes closed as pleasure rocketed through her.

Andrew watched her, his cock aching for attention. She made the most erotic picture he had ever seen. The musky scent of her aroused sex assaulted his senses, had him craving a taste of her. He felt her gaze on him and tore his gaze away from her pussy to meet her eyes. They were heavy-lidded and glazed with passion. She taunted him silently as she speared a finger into her core. She added a second finger and fucked herself as she massaged her clit with her other hand. Wet, squelching sounds filled the room, along with their labored breathing.

Andrew's gaze refocused on her hands where they worked her pussy. Her breath quickened even as her movements became faster and firmer on the sensitive flesh between her thighs. She could feel her pussy squeezing her fingers in increasingly intense spasms. She was so close. She could feel Andrew's heated regard and it spurred her on.

"Oh, Andrew..." she whispered huskily, "I'm so close... I'm about to come."

Andrew's eyelids flickered, his jaw tightened as he watched her. Not taking his eyes from her, her removed his boxers and knelt between her splayed legs again. He reached down and wrapped his hand around his rigid cock. He wanted to be inside of her in the worst way, but was riveted by the sight of her, writhing in ecstasy under the ministrations of her own hand. He stroked his hard length as he watched her, knew from the look on her face that she was on the very edge. He felt the muscles at the base of his cock pulse. He stopped the up and down motions of his hand and quickly applied hard pressure at the base of his cock with his fingertips in an effort to stave off his orgasm. He closed his eyes, taking deep, measured breaths as the pleasurable pulses continued and was gratified that he'd managed to stop himself from coming. Barely.

Claudia tumbled headlong into her own orgasm. The sight of Andrew kneeling between her thighs with his hard cock in hand, fighting the rush of his own pleasure, had given her the tiny impetus she had needed. She arched her back, her hips rising and falling rhythmically, shuddering and moaning as the spasms of her pussy gripped her fingers. She continued the motions of her hands, one on her clit, two fingers of the other buried as deeply as possible inside of her, throughout, pressing orgasm on top of orgasm upon herself. Finally, the pulses slowed and she relaxed into the bed. She traced languid caresses over her inner thighs, up her flat stomach to her breasts, where her nipples were still engorged.

Opening her passion-drunk eyes, she focused her gaze on Andrew. He was stroking his cock avidly, his fist tight around it. Up and down, his hand massaged the thick length. Claudia felt her arousal re-ignite and stabilize at a low simmer. The sight of him masturbating was incredibly erotic. He was the very epitome of masculinity -- the muscles of his arms flexing with his motions, his large hands manipulating his flesh, one on his cock, the other deeper between his legs cupping and stroking his balls. She was entranced by the difference in the way she touched him and the way he did it himself. He handled himself almost roughly, whereas she was always gentle with him, afraid that she would be too rough.

Filing that piece of data away for later use, she maneuvered until she was on her knees in front of him. Pressing herself to him, she kissed him. Their tongues mingled, their mouths were hot and wet. Claudia reached down and placed her hand over Andrew's on his cock. He looked down, watched their joined hands stroke him. His head fell back and he groaned. Taking advantage of the exposed line of his neck, Claudia kissed him there, openmouthed, teeth nipping, her tongue soothing the sharpness of the bites.

Pulling away from him, she turned around and got on all fours. Looking over her shoulder at Andrew, she moved backwards so that her pussy was lined up with his cock. He accepted her silent invitation and rubbed the head of his shaft against the wetness between her thighs. Spreading her legs a little wider, he suddenly plunged into her. Her pussy clutched at him as she adjusted to the sudden fullness. Feeling the pulse of impending orgasm begin again at the base of his cock, Andrew held still inside her, thinking of anything but how sweetly her hot, tight, wetness surrounded him.

Claudia became impatient and began to push back against him, fucking herself on his cock. He grabbed her hips, slowed her down. He stroked in and out of her with slow, measured thrusts, watching as his cock speared into her. The lips of her pussy clung to him exquisitely as he fucked her. He caressed the smooth skin of her back and ass, then leaned over her back to reach for her breasts. He cupped the fullness of them, squeezed her nipples between his fingers.

With increasing force, he plunged into her. She rocked backwards, meeting his every thrust eagerly. Sounds of their passion filled the room - the wet slap of their sweaty bodies meeting, groans, moans and grunts, mindlessly whispered words of sex and love. Andrew straightened again, reached beneath her body to find the hard pearl of her clit. He fucked her harder and faster, rubbing her clit in rhythm with his thrusts. Claudia began to pant, her breaths becoming tortured moans as Andrew pounded into her, steadily driving her toward climax.

"Yes, Andrew, yes," she chanted, "Fuck me hard. Harder!"

Andrew rubbed her clit between his thumb and index finger, pressed his other hand on her lower back, forcing her legs wider, changing the angle of penetration. His cock rubbed against the front wall of her pussy on each thrust, just as he'd intended. Claudia arched into him, tossed her head back and forth. Tingling that began in her fingers and toes consumed her body as her breaths grew more ragged and uneven. Mindless, she dropped her head and shoulders down to the pillow, extended her arms above her to grip the rungs of the headboard. Her body was coiled so tightly, she thought she would die if she didn't get release soon.

"Please, Andrew..." she whimpered.

No sooner had she uttered the words than she flew apart. She cried out with a series of tremulous, guttural growls. Powerful pulses of pleasure consumed her entire body; inside and out, her muscles seemed to flex and release. Her skin felt as though it had shrunk and the intense throbbing of her body stretched it taut, sensitized it to an almost excruciating degree. Her eyes were closed, yet varying shades of light and dark, flashes of vivid color appeared behind her eyelids. Andrew fucked into her, again, again, again sending more shockwaves through her body. Slamming into her with a final few thrusts, he came quietly undone, flooding her pussy with warmth.

Gasping for breath, he pulled her upright onto her knees so her back was to his front, taking care that he stayed inside her. She leaned against him, her head lolling back against his shoulder. Kissing her, he cupped her breasts in his hands then slid them over her taut abdomen and into the close-cropped curls at the apex of her thighs. Her body quivered, her pussy spasmed around his cock where it was still nestled within her. He played his fingers over the wetness there, sought out that most intimate juncture of their bodies. Slicking his wet fingers upward, he stroked her clit, making her cry out in anguished ecstasy. Her pussy tightened spastically with the fluttering of another orgasm and his softening length slid out of her.

Andrew flopped forward onto his pillow and pulled her down next to him. He gathered her in, not caring that they were both sticky with sweat and overheated from their exertions. He kissed her, soothed her, lifted the heavy mass of her hair from her neck to cool her. God, he thought, I wish I had the strength to do that all over again...

Tipping Claudia's face up so he could look into her eyes, he saw that she was back to being shy. A blush suffused her cheeks and she darted her gaze away from his. That she could be shy after that was amazing to him. He'd just have to work hard to keep her wanting and wanton until she got used to it.

She yawned and he grinned,

"I'll second that," he teased, before his jaw cracked in a yawn of his own.

"I think you just about killed me," Claudia murmured sleepily.

"Mmmm. Well, go to sleep and I'll see about finishing the job in the morning."

With a smile curving her lips, she snuggled into him and fell asleep.

*****

It was Christmas Eve and Andrew had invited her to his family's annual celebration. There would be a lot of people there, despite that fact that it was Christmas Eve. The Conal's had a wide circle of friends who attended the gathering at the family home in Marblehead, on Boston's North Shore. It had become one of the most anticipated parties held every year.

Claudia was nervous about meeting the family. She was mentally prepared for them to reject her. People of their status were accustomed to knowing who one's 'people' were and she didn't have any people, and even if she had, there were none who would matter to them. The man who had fathered her was of the same ilk and he'd wanted nothing to do with her. She knew the type well; that was the one important thing her mother had taught her. So, she was prepared for their censure, and if they didn't greet her with outright censure, then she was prepared for the cool politesse that would accompany their introduction. They wouldn't take her seriously, wouldn't take her relationship with Andrew seriously, she thought.

That thought took her aback, because she was unaware of having begun thinking that she herself was serious about her relationship with Andrew. Yet, the shift in thought had evidently occurred within her at some point. Gone was the idea that they would amicably part ways when they had both gotten what they sought from one another. Gone was the notion that they could look for nothing more than companionship and mutual fulfillment of sexual desire. Gone was the fiction that had led her to believe that she could be in the company of a man such as Andrew so frequently and not fall a little bit more in love with him each time they were together.

Indeed, that was what had happened. She was in love with Andrew. She had been well on her way there when she broke up with him before; she had ended it though, thereby vanquishing the possibility of heartbreak. This time was different. She was equally as frightened - terrified really - as she had been before, afraid that her heart would be broken. The difference between then and now, she surmised, was the fact that she wasn't afraid of whether or not she'd be able to survive the heartbreak itself. She knew she would be strong enough to survive, just as she was now strong enough to risk the prospect of heartbreak, love and loss.

A smile brightened the reflection of her face in the mirror as she applied makeup. It was a painstaking process, given that she didn't wear makeup often; she had had to remove and re-apply her eye makeup once already because she had botched it up. Now she was almost finished, had only to apply her lipstick. The new bent of her thoughts regarding Andrew had given her pause. She didn't know when it had happened. Was it the night she had told him her secrets or had it been before then and that night been the glue sealing the deal?

Suddenly, she felt a frisson of unease. What did the acknowledgment of her feelings for Andrew mean? Did she want to marry him and spend the rest of her life with him? She couldn't be sure that marriage was what she wanted. She had always thought that marriage was just a piece of paper. People broke their word all the time. The number of her mother's lovers who had been married, men who had taken vows to forsake all others, proved that point. Those men's word had been worth less than the paper they'd been printed on.

Not only that, but she suddenly realized that she did have a quaint notion that if, when, she got married, it would be for forever. There was no room for negotiation, no room to even entertain thoughts of divorce. Yes, she thought, I am something of a romantic. I want the fairytale, the happily ever after, even though I would rather have died than admit it before now. Even to myself... Growing up with her mother, she had been taught that there was no such thing as happily ever after. She had learned through years of observation that there was no such thing as pure, true love.I think I will have to rethink that, she thought, I will need to unlearn all of the 'undeniable, irrefutable truths' my mother taught me.

But not tonight. Tonight, she would go up to Marblehead and meet Andrew's family. She would set aside thoughts of love, marriage and forever and try her best to be the best she could be, so that even if -- no when -- Andrew's parents expressed their doubts about her, they would find her behavior and demeanor unimpeachable. Casting a final approving glance at herself in the mirror, she left the bathroom.

*****

She had bought a new dress for the evening, but as they drove the forty-five minutes up to Marblehead, she was second-guessing the choice. She had loved it from the moment she'd seen it in the Newbury Street boutique. When she'd tried it on, though, she'd known that it was 'the one'. Without being too tight, the dress molded to her every curve as though it had been tailor made for her. Made of garnet red shantung silk, the dress had a scooped, low neckline and wide straps over the shoulders. From the front, it looked modest enough. From the back, it was anything but modest; the scoop in the back echoed the neckline, but dipped sinfully low on her back, leaving almost every bronzed inch of the toned flesh bare. She had accessorized the dress with matte gold strappy high-heeled sandals and a suite of jewelry in the same matte tone of gold as her shoes. The chandelier earrings were bedecked with garnets, as was the bracelet. The pendant on the matching necklace hovered just above the shadow between her breasts, drawing the eye to the hint of cleavage bared there. She had done her eyes in smoky shades of gray and wore garnet red lipstick. Her hair was swept back from her face and cascaded down her back in loose waves. She had thought she looked pretty good. Until now... and now it was too late to be having second thoughts.