Authors Note – Please read “The Beginning…” and “The Dream Continues” series. They may you understand this tale.
Chapter 6: The Weekend Starts Flying
Washing after great sex had become ritualistic, but my wonderful friend was having none of this.
She snaked up the bath, her engorged teats just brushing my skin. She bowed her head, took my right nipple in her mouth. She began to nibble, bite, and suck, until it was very hard.
Finally, after some minutes of ministration, the tip slipped past her clamping teeth, it was my turn to yelp.
Her mouth nibbled, and kissed, it’s way to my left breast. She started again. Her left hand took the nipple that she had recently released, and she rolled it hard between her thumb and forefinger.
I was on fire with desire.
All this time her hair was floating magically on the foam that covered the surface of a very full bath.
She repeated her trick. She pulled my left teat hard as it slipped through her teeth. I yelped again. She took both nipples between her fingers and thumbs, to continue her torture.
She lifted her breasts clear of my body, points jutting hard downwards. She slowly moved each nipple until they couple with, and to press hard into, my own engorged teats.
She pressed her breasts flat on my chest, and whispered: “I want you to wash me all over, I want you to cleanse every part of me. I want you to wash my hair.” We kissed long and hard.
She rolled onto her back, breasts heaving, big globs of foam sticking here and there. Those hard magical points glistening wet. I slipped my arms under hers to take a nipple between the middle fingers of each hand. I massaged them very lightly as I cupped her breasts.
Then, for a while, I began to run my forefingers, and thumbs, slowly up and down the hard stems. I stroked and felt all the textural contours of her glorious thick teats.
But we did not want sex again, so we soaked up the embrace of warm water. We were still.
Later she slowly slipped down my stomach between my legs, further from me, until her head was under the foam.
She submerged, wisps of gleaming jet black hair still floating on the foam, but she was otherwise invisible.
She sat upright as she finally came up for air, took a bottle of shampoo, and past it behind to me. I poured the sweet smelling lotion onto my hands, and, for the first time in my life, I was washing a girl’s hair.
I found it very erotic. Gently lathering üsküdar escort and massaging her scalp, while she sat between my legs. My penis was nestling against the small of her back; I passed my hands back under her armpits and shampooed both breasts.
Her nipples had adopted that magnetic stance, long, full, and hard. If you bent one up it simply flicked, if you bent it down, it simply flicked back. It jutted straight out.
I wanted to look, and to play. She sensed this, so turned round to face me, kneeling between my legs. She bent forward, her tits hanging down, and I continued to massage her scalp.
She rose so that she was upright on her knees, and I could see her magnificent, complete, dense black bush of pubic hair. I transferred lather into the curls, and shampooed them.
My fingers entered her cunt, my right hand pulled her to me, so I was kissing her flat stomach. The middle finger of my left hand entered her arse, and I cleaned deep.
She had asked to be washed all over, and now she was.
We stepped out of the bath, walked, hand in hand, dripping wet to the huge shower cubicle. She set the temperature again, and we continued to wash and rinsed each other under cascades of wonderful soft water.
We were having the most erotic wash of our lives when there was a knock at the door.
An hour had slipped by. Dinner was ready.
She did not think twice. A small towel formed a white turban around her head, another huge bath sheet became her dress, and she marched out to open the door.
A trolley was wheeled in, passed a very demure girl dressed only in white towelling. It was an even more complex contraption than the last one at lunch.
The Room Service Butter opened up four leaves to form a large round table covered in a white linen tablecloth. He explained, to my divine friend, the various hot and cold areas, and cupboards that held all the food. He lit three candles in the candelabra at the centre of the table, bid us “bon appetite”, and vanished.
For once we ate at a table, and we wore clothes! We dressed in the light hotel housecoats that we had earlier hung on the back of the door.
She kept the turban on, not caring what her hair would be like. She told me that she had an appointment at the hotel hairdresser, while I was at the conference.
It was becoming dark, the window was still wide open, but mists were forming over the şerfali escort water, with magic lights sparkling on distant islands.
We slid the windows almost closed, but did not want to seal out the world. We left it two feet open, and the curtains drawn fully back. There would be nobody to see us, and neither of us cared if they did. Not us, we definitely did not!
She had worked wonders with her friends of earlier that afternoon. Gravlax went wonderfully with the rest of the Alsatian; the chef made a glorious light Champagne sorbet. Then the sommelier’s choice surpassed even the Gewürztraminer, we were treated to a half bottle of Chablis Grand Cru, Grenouilles. It was nectar with lightly poached lobster.
I had eaten enough, we had both eaten enough. My wonderful friend realised that I was beginning to worry about the paper. I would have to leave at 05.30 in the morning to give it.
We tossed off the housecoats, stepped naked onto that huge bed, spread the two duvets and knelt together. She pulled one of the down filled duvets around her body, just below her breasts, and asked me to comb her hair.
I carefully combed and brushed until she was happy. It was very loving and tender. She lay down, spread the duvet out, and her hair like a fan over the down. We slept spooned together in love.
I woke once during the early dawn light to see my beauty lying on her back, jet black hair still fanned over the pillows, breast slowly rising and falling. Nothing should disturb such a picture of love; I nodded off until my own internal alarm woke me.
I shaved, and dressed in a business suit. I walked to my sleeping beauty, and gently stroked a finger around each nipple, they rose.. I kissed her eyes and lips.
I wrote a note saying that I would be back by 12.30, and that I had a surprise for her. I placed this on her pillow, with a rose from the flowers that were already in the room.
I thought to myself, “Not original, but it is 05.30 in the morning”.
I left to do damage at the conference!
Apparently all went as my Professor planned. I upset many people, so I beat a hasty retreat in the knowledge that I was not required for two whole days. The limousine delivered me back to the hotel at exactly 12.00. She was sitting demurely in the atrium, my black haired beauty. She was wearing the shift dress that she had worn on her first meeting to arrange our dinner.
She saw me, she jumped up and rushed towards me, arms outstretched.
This time there could be no doubt that all she wore was the dress. She was bare footed, and her nipples were so prominent that they almost tore the silk, her breasts bounced, swayed, and jiggled erotically.
I dropped my briefcase just in time. Bare legs, and bare feet, shot either side of my hips, her dress shot up to her waist, and she clamped her legs tight around me.
I had a complete view of her naked cunt. I had seen that she was without panties, but hugging me so tight ensured that nobody else would have noticed.
Her arms shot round my neck, I hugged her to me, and we kissed long and hard.
A minute or so later, in front of many other surprised guests, we came up for air.
I signalled to a bell hop that I needed him to carry my briefcase, and the three of us left for the suite. There was no question of her letting go, she stayed glued to my chest. She clung like a wild young animal being carried by it’s parent.
What was the reason for all this?
Well my surprise had arrived slightly early.
The bell hop opened the door, and we entered the room. He quietly dropped my case and left.
The windows had been drawn to one side, and the whole huge window was filled with propellers, a cockpit, the nose of an aircraft, and wings that vanished out of sight to either side.
She uncurled her legs from around my waist, and lightly dropped to the floor. She was so excited that she rushed out onto the veranda, where she stopped looking at the seaplane bobbing quietly on the water a few feet away.
She turned to tell me all about the arrival.
The story rushed out in an endless stream of words that tumbled over each other in her excitement. It seemed that she had just returned from her hairdressing appointment when she heard the roar of aero engines.
A twin engine seaplane circled over the water to make a perfect landing some two hundred yards out. She had rushed onto our balcony. Heads had appeared on all the other balconies, and everybody began talk loudly, trying to guess where the plane would stop. It came straight to our jetty.
The left hand float hardly touched the fenders as engines stopped, a door opened, and a pilot, clad from head to foot in black leathers, hopped onto the planks.
Both ends of the float were secured.
A very tall, thin, pilot walked up to my darling, took off a pair of dark sun glasses, peeled off the leather helmet, and shook out a main of natural blond hair.
A beautiful girl said, “I’m Olga. I am at your service for the rest of your weekend”.
To be continued…
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© Copyright Gussie – July 2003