Maintaining Focus

He turned and goggled, positively gob-smacked: Kathryn was standing in the bedroom doorway, striking a vampish pose, one arm raised vertically overhead, a hip thrust forward at him. She was nude except for her pearls: more than merely nude, too - her body was completely hairless below the earlobes. His cock swelled mightily; she had a supremely arousing crotch. And seen this way her breasts not only existed but were lovely (if minor) risings -- topped with those large and spectacularly erect nipples.

She laughed delightedly at his expression: "Gotcha! You should see your face! Is this a sufficiency of informality, or what?"

"You are absolutely STUNNING, Kathryn! And I was right -- there's plenty for me to eat around here!" She simpered briefly -- it was transparently obvious that he meant all he said. She slid a finger down her midline, from breastbone through her deep navel, stopped halfway up the rise of her mons. "True -- but that's reserved exclusively for dessert. You know what the main course is -- you're the chef! I do believe you should be naked, too -- I guarantee things will work better that way. Why don't you just stand right there and drop all your clothes in a little heap for me? Pretty please?"

He did so. Runner's legs and butt appeared, pleasing Kathryn mightily. As did the rampant erection that twanged itself against his belly when removal of his jockeys set it free. Her eyes widened in surprise and delight: "Goodness! A beautiful instrument you have there, Sir -- rather 'cocky', and nicely symmetrical. Plus I've never seen a shaved MAN before! Our tastes really do run in parallel, and in lots of ways, don't they? Circumcised, too. This is getting eerie - everything about you seems designed to please me!"

He stepped over to her: she watched his cock-head bob and weave as he moved. He squatted silently, lifted her in his arms, buried his face against her chest and inhaled a nipple. She squirmed with pleasure, reached down to grab his hardon, cycled it through her fingers several times as he carried her towards the bed. "Lovely! Vaguely Neanderthal tactics, and a perfectly exquisite teen-ager's hardon! I do believe we are due for the Great Mother of All Fucks."

He laughed into her breast, nibbled harder, made her gasp. His fingers, exploring, found her outer pussylips as slippery as marbles in a bowl of olive oil.

She had already laid out a huge terry towel over the bed -- good planning. He lowered her down onto her back: the bed, as high quality as everything else, made no protest as he added his mass. If he was supposed to be in charge, he should be issuing orders. "Madam Kathryn will now assume the position, please!"

She looked at him in the big wall mirror beside the bed, asked quietly "Precisely what position is required, M'sieur?"

He knelt upright, twitched his cock for her: "Whatever is your personal favorite. Do it. Now!"

Kathryn nodded, turned to kneel "cat-in-heat" style, butt high, knees wide-spread, chest down on the terrycloth. She reached back with both hands, spread her buttocks, watched in the mirror - just from his approach she could tell he knew what he was about.

His hands caressed her buttocks lovingly, fingers slipping delicately, unobtrusively between her lips to redistribute her copious lubricant to where it would, quite soon, be most needed. He settled the tip properly without using his hands, another good sign. Then, as pressure increased, he slipped his hands beneath her chest and caught both nipples firmly between ring and middle fingers, pulled her back towards his crotch. "I can't reach it, Lady, so you need to take care of your clit. Do so!"

It was a moot point as to who provided the motive power to drive them together: millimeter by slow millimeter, working together, she engulfed him. By tiny, exquisite fractions her body blossomed open in the slowest of motion. She watched, looking sideways into the mirror: a piece of her mind admired his profound concentration, his exquisite control. When at long last the rim of his helmet finally entered with a silent definitive pop, she emitted her first sound, a prolonged sigh, the sound of a fall gust stirring leaves on the ground.

They paused only when he'd bottomed out fully. Ten or a dozen long, slow full-depth strokes loosened her, brought her inner sphincter within reach. A few strokes through it and her back was changing color, her breathing going labored.

Just before her first string of orgasms hit, she caught his eye in the mirror, managed to say through her peaking tension, "You DO understand that for the next four days you're not going to spend a single off-duty moment in your hotel room, don't you? Tell me that that is perfectly clear!"

He grinned back at her, pinched her nipples, began to play Bolero with her bottom. "Claro! This is going to be a long main course, Kathryn... and a long dessert, too, I expect. Maybe we'll just have to order dinner in tonight?'

"Shut up and fuck!" she replied. "Plenty of time for other things later!"

Edward could take commands as well as give them, so he did just that.