Masterpiece part 2

"You know what shoulders are?" I asked her, as I continued to caress
the rounded area.

"What?" she whispered, with obvious anticipation.

"They're indicators, sign-posts, portents of these," I said, my hand
cupping the curve of her breast from underneath. Sam pushed her breast
into my hand, arching her back with another sharp gasp as my fingers
slid across the erect tissue of her nipple.

I bent my head down and planted a warm kiss on the dark skin. My
tongue teased the tiny nub gently, moistening it, then lapping up the
moisture. Sam groaned.

"I can't believe this," she moaned.

"Already?" I asked.

"I think so. It felt like it. Just a little one."

"You may have as many as you like," I told her. "Your pleasure is
mine."

"But how?" she asked. "I mean, it's never been so easy before."

"Because you want them," I assured her. "It's all in the mind, dear
one. It's because you will it to happen."

"More," she said. "I want some more."

I was happy to oblige. My lips left her breast and skidded slowly down
her torso. I kissed each of her ribs, then dragged across the top of
her flat belly. My tongue circled the exterior of her navel. She
pressed her hips upward. I closed my lips around the circle I'd made,
then pushed my tongue deep into her navel. My hand, resting on her
hip, felt the twitch and thrust as she pushed against me. She moaned
lowly as my tongue flicked and probed at her belly.

"Goddam you," she growled. "You can't do this."

"What?" I asked, pulling back for a moment.

"You can't make me come tonguing my navel," she said.

"I can," I answered, "and I will." I resumed my probing of the
delicate depression, flicking, sucking and swabbing the area with my
tongue.

Sam groaned again, making an "nnnnhhh" sound as she fought either for
or against the sensation. She shook her head from side to side, her
hand clasping in my hair. Sam's hips thrust upward three or four
times, causing her to grunt with the exertion. I felt her body tense
under mine, the muscles of her belly becoming taut.

"Oh, goddam you!" she grunted. "You're a bastard!"

I smiled. "Me?" I asked innocently.

"Please," she begged. "I am aching down there. Please!"

"Down here?" I asked, then slid my tongue deep into her slit,
encountering an amazing amount of damp, slick juices.

"Yes, there!" Sam almost screamed, her hips rising again to force my
tongue into her.

I backed away, quickly.

"Not yet," I said firmly, reveling in my control. "There's so much
more of you to enjoy first."

"What? Where?" she asked plaintively. "Please! Do me there."

"One more time," I assented, "then on to new territory." I dipped my
tongue back into her steaming center, flicked two or three times at
the entrance to her vagina, then pulled away. "Now roll over, my
darling," I order her.

Sam froze. "What are you going to do?" she asked.

"Trust me, Sam," I said as softly as I could. "I promise I won't do
anything that will hurt you. I swear it."

She didn't exactly melt, but I could sense a decision being made
within her. She rolled herself over onto her belly. I knelt beside
her, then straddled her left leg, my right leg between her and
pressing gently on her sex. I leaned over and planted several soft
kisses on her shoulder blades. Sam seemed to shrug, then placed her
hands beside her head.

I put my hands on her shoulders and began a gentle rubbing motions. It
wasn't deep or powerful enough to be a massage. It was simply a caress
over her shoulders and down her back.

"That's nice," she whispered.

When I exchanged the caress of my palms for the gentle scratching of
my nails, Sam gasped at the sensation.

"Oh, dear!" she said.

"It's all right," I told her softly. "You see?" I resumed the
palm-open caressing of her back.

For each four or five strokes of the open-handed caress I'd throw in a
single light scraping of her skin. Each time I scraped, Sam would
sharply inhale and twitch. I alternated the strokes in the same
pattern for several minutes. Gradually I increased the ratio, scraping
more often. Sam's hips began to press down on my leg. She found that
as I scraped she could rub herself against my thigh. The frequency and
intensity of that rubbing increased. Eventually, I centered the
attention of my hands to small ovals just inside the base of her
shoulder blades. As I caressed, then scraped, circled and scraped,
Sam's hip motion became regular and intense.

"You son-of-a-bitch," she growled, her sex pushing against my thigh
with some real force. Sam twitched her hips, then groaned, "Oh,
goddam!" as her body slammed through another orgasm.

"How do you do that?" she asked. "How do you make me come like that?"

"I didn't, Sam," I admitted. "You did it. Remember? You were humping
yourself on my thigh."

"But my back," Sam protested. "You knew right where to go. Exactly
what to do."

"I did," I agreed. "But you were pressing yourself against my thigh."

Sam pulled herself up and swung around to face me. "Which goes to show
that thighs really is important."

"If you thay tho," I joked back, settling back on my knees.

"What now?" she asked.

"There's more," I said, "but you'll have to lay back down."

"Are you going to fuck me now?" she said with a matter of fact tone.

"Well, I was going to try to entertain you more," I admitted.

"Uh-uh," she shook her head. "I want to be fucked. I want your cock
inside me." She leaned toward me and pushed, hard. I fell backwards on
the huge bed. Before I could move, Sam had straddled me. On all fours,
Sam crawled up my body and planted her lips on mine. She released me.
"We're going to fuck, now, William," she ordered.

Sam reached behind her and took my cock in her hand. She placed it at
the entrance to her vagina, then settled down on me. Her insides felt
like hot honey. Sam looked directly into my eyes as she sank down on
me. The fires, I could see, had been kindled.

Her motions were so unlike Deanna's in this position I was amazed.
Usually when Deanna was on top she would bounce and twitch, pound her
hips and wail. With Deanna it was all fast, furious and violent. Sam,
on the other hand was like a cat. Instead of thrashing, Sam slowly
stretch upward, moving me nearly out of her, then sank backward toward
my knees. Her motions were languorous and deliberate, pulling, then
pushing, squeezing and release, all the while moaning and, I swear it,
purring. As she slid her body backward I could hear this low rumble
deep in her throat. The moans emanated from her as she pulled upwards,
her muscles clamping on me, squeezing me as she stretched toward the
headboard of the bed.

Time stood still for us. I couldn't tell how long Sam kept up this
motion. She never changed the rhythm, though, until close to the very
end. I noticed a thin sheen of moisture on those incredibly beautiful
shoulders. In moments, her motion changed to the familiar thrust. Sam
settled on me at my deepest penetration, then started thrusting her
hips forward and back. She pushed her hands against my shoulders,
looked into my eyes, and pounded her hips until she groaned a long and
low moan, and the clamping on my cock became a more undisciplined,
spasmodic pulsing.

When her orgasm had rolled through her, Sam looked at me and smiled.

"You're good," she said. "That was a good one."

"I had little to do with it, my dear," I reminded her. "I've barely
moved."

Sam sort of chuckled. "Then it's time to get you into the game," she
grinned.

She hooked her legs under mine and threw her weight sideways. We
rolled in the giant bed until I was atop her, still buried deep
inside.

"There now," she said matter-of-factly. "Let's get started."

I raised my weight off her, taking it on my arms and knees. I slid
myself nearly out of her and slowly penetrated her once again.

"Oh, that was nice," she said. "Again?"

I repeated the motion.

"Very nice. You are good, aren't you?"

"We aim to please," I smiled at her.

"Doing a good job."

Using those little cues men should learn, but don't always, I followed
my lover's unspoken instructions regarding penetration and speed. Her
hands were on my hips giving gentle guidance until they grabbed the
flesh, pulling and pushing with increasing intensity and speed. The
subtlety of her direction disappeared under the demanding insistence
of her hands, hips and legs, pulling, pounding, pushing and pulling
again.

Sam's eyes were closed, her brow smooth, but tense with concentration.
Her lips parted and her breathing became audible. As we slammed into
each other she began mouthing then speaking a string of obscenities.

"Oh, fuck!" she moaned. "Oh, yes, fuck! Um-hmm. Fuck, yes! Mmmm, yes,
fuck me just like that," she commanded. "That's it. Fuck. Oh, fuck!"

Her hips pounded against mine. She hunched them backward on each of my
withdrawals, insuring her clit rubbed against the top of my shaft in
the down and in strokes. When I reached nearly full penetration she
hunched her hips forward, slamming herself against me.

Sam's eyes popped open. I saw a glazed look, and deep inside, the
blazing fire of her passion.

"Oh, fuck, yes!" she cried out, making me concerned that Deanna and
Nick could hear us wherever they were in the house.

Her legs and hands pulled me into her, pinning me at my deepest
penetration. As Sam's muscles clamped on my cock, my own orgasm built
within my balls. I felt my cock swell in preparation for my own
release as Sam virtually screamed.

"Oh, goddam! Fuck! I'm coming!" she bellowed. "I'm coming!" again,
then squeezing on me in rapid-fire convulsions which milked my seed
from deep within me.

In spite of her vise-like grip on my lower body, I managed two
powerful thrusts against her before my come shot up my rod and into
her pulsating cunt.

Sam released her grip on my. She moved her legs upward, releasing them
from my backside and wrapping her thighs around my waist. She rocked
herself gently, moaning and milking my come into her depths. This
woman knew how to make a man feel like his seed was needed inside her.

When my spurting subsided, Sam looked into my face. Both of us were
breathing like horses after a race. She took my face in her hands and
pulled me toward her. Her lips burned like coals, her breath was hot
vapor on my cheek.

"See," she said between her panting gasps, "I told you that you were
good."

I hummed a kind of assent, unable to formulate words yet for want of
air in my lungs.

"Too quick," I murmured, when I was able.

"No," she shook her head. "It was perfect for the first time. There's
plenty of time for other stuff."

"It feels like a Cinderella thing," I told her, rolling off her. "Are
you sure I won't change into a muskrat or something at midnight?"

"Seeing that it's past two a.m.," she said, smiling at me, "I doubt
that's going to happen."

"Perhaps if the beautiful princess would kiss me again," I offered, "I
won't turn back into a frog."

Sam giggled and leaned forward to kiss my lips. It had none of
passionate fire I'd felt before, but it was a soft, moist and tender
little kiss. I would interpret it as a kiss of real affection.

"You have a beautiful heart," Sam told me. "I like having you around."

"You have sexy shoulders," I responded. "I like being around you,
too."

A soft tap at the door interrupted our little mutual admiration
society. Sam called out gently, "Come in!"

The door cracked and a naked Deanna walked in, followed closely by
Nick. Deanna came and sat on the side of the bed next to me.

"Nick said we could use the spa," Deanna said. Her eyes were shining
as brightly as a kid at Christmas.

It dawned on me that the two women had said virtually nothing to each
other all night long. I took it upon myself to respond.

"That's what I understand. Very gracious of him, isn't it?"

Sam rolled off the opposite side of the massive bed. "I'm going to get
cleaned up, first," she said, heading toward the bathroom. Nick
followed her.

"I'll check the spa," he said, disappearing behind his wife.

"Are you all right?" I asked Deanna when we were alone.

"Sure," she said. "You?"

"Fine."

"He's got a lot of energy," she told me.

"I noticed that. Did he hurt you?"

"Oh, no," she said with emphasis. "Nothing like that. He was just like
the little Energizer bunny, you know."

"So, did you have fun?"

"Yeah, it was fun. Of course, I like it better when you're there, you
know," she said. "It's always more reassuring when I can see you. This
time, it felt like, I don't know, maybe like we were cheating or
something."

"You weren't cheating, Deanna," I said. "I knew where you were and
what you were doing. As long as you had fun."

Nick stuck his head through the partial open door to the bath. "Spa's
ready," he called. "We're waiting for you two."

We walked through the door, past the double vanity and through another
door. The commode was flanked by a bidet. A third door led to the spa,
darker than the other rooms. It was lit by submerged lamps and several
candles. Nick and Sam had poured us flutes of champagne and were
already seated in the spacious tub.

Deanna walked up the stairs to the ledge the ledge and down into the
tub. Nick graciously held her hand as she stepped down. She looked
like a golden goddess as she entered the bubbling water.

"She's quite beautiful, isn't she?" Sam said to her husband.

"Old William here is a real lucky guy," he said, good-naturedly.

"As are you," I told him, choosing to ignore the "old William"
comment.

We sat in the tub for about fifteen minutes, chatting and drinking. I
learned that Sam had come to the States from New Zealand after meeting
Nick there. He was doing public relations for some project in
Antarctica which was based out of New Zealand. The more I listened to
them, the more I found their marriage to be one of convenience. I was
amazed that he could be so near this stunning, intelligent and
phenomenal woman and not be madly in love with her. The block to that
had to be his own narcissism. He was too much in love with himself to
love anyone else.

What surprised me was the apparent lack of physical contact in that
spa. In spite of the fact that we were all quite naked, there was no
touchy-feely going on that I could detect. It was incomparably
civilized.

Deanna was the one who broached the subject of sex as we relaxed in
the pool.

"Are we over, here?" she asked.

Nick smiled at me. I shrugged. "What do you mean, my dear?" Nick
directed to her.

"I mean, are we finished?" Deanna tried again.

"You need more champagne?" Nick asked her.

Deanna breathed a sigh of exasperation. "No. I mean are we going to
fuck some more?"

Sam laughed out loud.

"Deanna!" I reprimanded her.

"No, no!" Sam chortled, touching my arm as if to restrain me. "I'm
delighted with the directness. I was just wondering the same thing.
Good on you, Deanna, for your forthrightness."

"Don't see why we shouldn't," Nick said, chuckling. "If that's okay
with you, William?"

I took a sip of the champagne. "Fine," I said. "I'm certainly not
going to rain on this parade."

"Good," Nick said. "You can stay the whole night, if you want. And all
day tomorrow."

"Frankly," I said, "I'm going to have to shave in a couple of hours.
Deanna and I are both going to need tooth brushes.

Nick held his hand above the water, palm up, toward my wife. She put
hers into his.

"To be honest," our host said, "I've worked up an appetite. Anybody
else hungry?"

"Yeah, I am," Deanna agreed.

"Then, here's a proposal," he offered. "Why don't we all get dressed
and go get some White Castle."

"Nick," Sam said, shaking her head.

"What? It's the only thing open at this hour. Beside, you know I have
a thing for them as a late-night snack. Then, we can stop by one of
those 24-hour drug stores for shaving supplies and so forth for our
guests. All right?"

"I like that idea," Deanna agreed. "Let's do it."

She and Nick stood up, leaving Sam and I sitting in the spa.

"Shall we join them?" Sam asked.

"Sure, why not?" I said. We stood together and followed our mates out
of the pool.

Nick handed towels around.

"Thing is," Deanna remarked, "all I've got is that blue gown. I'm not
excited about putting that thing on again."

"That's all right," Sam said. "I'll give you something more casual to
wear. You're a bit taller than I, but we'll find something."

When we walked out of the house, Sam and Deanna were wearing T-shirts,
shorts and sandals. Neither of the women had bras on. Sam observed
that Deanna was too large for any of her bras. My wife had worn none
under her gown. Sam agreed to go braless so Deanna wouldn't feel
conspicuous.

We loaded into Nick's Mercedes, he and Deanna in the front, Sam and I
in the back. Nick suggested we visit the drug store first, then
collect the take out and return to the house. Hearing no objections,
he put the car in gear and we drove away from their neighborhood.

The streets were virtually deserted. Lights flickered through the car
as we made our way down one of the major thoroughfares. The brightly
lit fa‡ade of the drug store loomed into view and Nick swung the big
car around, backing into a parking slot directly in front of the door.

"For a quick getaway," he said. I thought he was joking.

"Nick, please," Sam said. "Not tonight."

Nick ignored her as he flicked the switch unlocking the doors. I
looked toward Sam inquisitively. She just shook her head.

Deanna and I swiftly found our toiletries and put them in the small
carrying basket. We took more time at the fragrance counter. Sam and
Deanna compared several scents and settled on one for my wife. Then
Sam insisted on selecting an aftershave for me. She picked out an
expensive brand that I would usually not have chosen for myself.

"I like it," she said, simply. "Do you mind?"

"No, not at all," I said. "I've never tried it."

"The fragrance will keep me aroused," she admitted, "as if I'm not
already.

We walked to the front counter where the obviously tired clerk scanned
our purchases. I paid with my credit card, signing the slip and taking
the small, white bag. Nick was already at the car. He unlocked the
doors and we all climbed in.

As we latched ourselves into the seatbelts, Nick turned toward Sam and
held something out to her. It was a pocket-sized spiral-bound
notebook. He grinned, then gunned the car out of the parking lot.

"Oh, for God's sake, Nick," Sam said. "You're such a damned child."

"What?" Nick said. "It's in their budget."

Sam turned to me. "Nick's a bit of a kleptomaniac," she explained.
"He's got this thing about nicking something from these chain stores.
It's not much, usually."