Chapter 5

This beauty was open and she waited; patiently, provocatively and purposefully for me to disrobe and join her; soon, we shared our nakedness and moved to a circular Chinese Rug in front of the fire. Tanya needed no instruction; our eyes stayed locked as we knelt, kissed and then, as she lay back, her thighs parted and I moved between them, cradling her body, raising her flanks to ease my tongue inside; laving the smooth, depilated flaps; covering her mound with my mouth, pulling a negative pressure; sucking, licking and nibbling her clitoris to a partial-climax; then, the entry: mounting her; slowly penetrating her, then; “I can feel you in my cervix!”; pressuring her pubic-bone, rocking, gently, in-and-out, as we worked to a crescendo; her legs rising to encircle my body, drawing me into her womb; my cock straining inside; then, gradually, filling her with my fluid; rewarding her heart with passion in place of abuse.

It was an easy ride; smooth, well-lubricated; long, slow movements, a close fit, a glove-holding-a-pipe, it was progressive but unrushed as our bodies meshed, our mouths met, our legs inter-twined, our genitalia engaged and our hearts beat together. Soon, perhaps too soon, Scene 2 ended: the orgasms crashed-in and we held one-another like survivors of a shipwreck clinging to drift-wood; writhing, pressing, gripping, spilling fluids like barmen-on-a-busy-night; staying in contact, physically, emotionally and with a growing spiritual bond that took us to Scene 3 where Tanya slipped me out, rolled over, knelt-up and presented her backside; thighs wide-splayed, cheeks pulled-apart, back concave-down, tits protruding, head back, hair flung over her shoulders and, then, with that evocative call, this time in the proper context: “I’m ready, Sir.”

My fluid was leaking from her pussy; oozing down the insides of her thighs but she let it run; happy to know it was my gift to her, that there was plenty more from where it came and wishing it had fertilized her womb to produce the child she longed-for: yet, instead of plunging in, as expected, I replaced her thumbs on each side of her flanks with my own and pressed my tongue into her crinkly-pore.

This took her by surprise but she was quick to respond by transforming the tightness of anticipation to the softness of reality and, as she moved-back on my lips, she started to moan; a deep, guttural, bass-sound emerged from the core of her being, affirming her passion and reflecting her safe-haven.

The laving went on to the point where she orgasmed, almost uncontrollably; she was finding it hard to keep still and accept someone was working on her, bringing her satisfaction, a man expecting nothing and giving everything to a woman who’d been used, abused and debased by, goodness knows, how many persons of my own gender: so, I kept on; my goal was to reduce her to a pile-of-blubber; mind-blown, heart-revitalised, soul-refreshed.

At last, her arms gave way; she collapsed onto her face, while maintaining her high, rear-posture and pleading, “Fuck me: please; for God’s sake, just fuck me!”; a sign to release her and one for me to obey. Tanya flinched as the end of my cock met her pouting-pore; opened it and made partial entry. It was soft, stimulated and there was no resistance as I placed my left foot alongside her left knee; my right alongside her right, rose to a straddle and ploughed my furrow, in, up to the hilt; holding onto her shoulders, pulling her back onto me and seeing her tits start to sway under her breast.

Slowly, very slowly, my motions began and her response caught harmony; we were working as a team; foreign-nationals but fluent in the act of mind-reading and congruent in the language of love-making; a perfect-pair: as the shagging went on, her moans continued and deepened as her body responded to the movements in her bowels and, as spray after spray of my jism found its way into her dark corners, it was something that brought her unrestrained joy.

Afterwards, there was no sudden withdrawal; Tanya collapsed and lay like a starfish, arms and legs splayed-wide, with me still inside lying prone atop her back, only then, and after some time, when our emotions had subsided, did we stir; she turned over to meet my lips and we held onto one another, her breasts squeezed against my chest and her lips pressed onto mine; our bodies inter-twined: we’d cemented our bond as tri-athletes.

This time, there was no ‘cock-cleaning’ with her tongue; for me, and her, those days were over, so Tanya found a ground-floor lavatory and returned to wash me with such reverence it was as though she was bathing my feet.

Now, the sun was down, the fire needed more banking, and we needed a stiff drink: “A whisky?”

“Yes, please.”

“Good: I’ve got a case of Single Malt you can help me with!”

So, we drank two large glasses, in our Wing Chairs, in front of the fire: that was until Tanya thought it a good idea to have two-bottoms-on-one-chair; so, she joined me watching the flames pick-up and feeling the external warmth fill the room while the internal warmth filled our souls.

It was getting late, time to eat, again; so, we slipped-on some basic garments, decamped to the kitchen and found the Housekeeper had laid-up supper; mostly a cold-plate with sandwiches, pies and a potato salad, but she’d left some hot soup in a thermos and we knew where to find the beers. So, without further-ado, we sat and filled our bellies then went up to shower and, thence, to bed.

Tanya was a delight; never a burden, always accommodating, anticipatory, alert, intuitive, intellectually responsive and passionate that set my mind to working out how to re-engage her, professionally. I own and operate a Hedge-Fund, am well-established in the City and comfortable in the Risk-business; she has experience in Investment Banking: so, it wasn’t hard to do the arithmetic. However, one rule sang-out in my brain; ‘never employ an intimate’, in other words, ‘you don’t shit where you eat’: so, once between the sheets, I posited the idea of a return to the Financial Services sector.