Chapter 9 #2
Each plate has a different curated set of snacks.
One has thin slices of salami, which he’s crafted to look like a flower, half a dozen grapes, a breadstick and cubes of emmental cheese.
Another has a handful of juicy-looking strawberries, a pottle of liquid chocolate, a selection of hard chocolates and two lollipops.
The third has stuffed olives, sundried tomatoes, crackers and a wheel of creamy camembert.
The final paper plate is covered with strips of prosciutto, cherry tomatoes, a tub of paté and slices of melba toast. On the bedside table is a bottle of rose, from which he’s filled two plastic tumblers .
‘You get started on the snacks. Except for this one,’ he points to the plate with the strawberries, winking at me.
‘I’m going to freshen up.’ He puts his cap on his head, pulling it low, throws a towel over his shoulder and looks down at my shower shoes left just inside the door. ‘Do I have to?’ he asks.
I shrug my shoulders as I put an olive in my mouth, ‘I guess it depends on how much you like fungus,’ I laugh.
Begrudgingly, he slides the jandals onto his feet. As they are about five sizes too small and they look ridiculous. I keep my mouth shut.
‘Back soon,’ he says, tottering out on the tiny footwear.
I move the plates aside to make room on the bed, prop a couple of pillows behind me and lie back relaxed and happy.
What could be better?
A day at the beach, but out of the sun, a very relaxing swim, snacks, wine, and a very handsome man.
Not only is he handsome, though, he’s a good man, I think to myself.
Hardworking, honest, a small-town guy with good values.
How did you get this lucky, Bella? I ask myself, putting two pieces of salami at once into my mouth, washing the saltiness down with a large gulp of wine.
I lay my head back on the pillow and close my eyes.
The next thing I know, warm lips are on mine.
‘Huh?’ I wake with a start. Surely I wasn’t tired enough to actually fall asleep.
‘Wake up, sleepyhead,’ Jock says. Standing beside the bed, he leans over, kissing me again.
I look him up and down, taking him in. He’s naked aside from his lush beach towel wrapped around his narrow waist. Drips of water that he’s missed in his drying process run from his broad, muscular shoulders down over his chest before disappearing into the plush towel.
‘ Did all that swimming make you tired? Move over,’ he directs.
I move the four plates again, this time to the far side of the bed, lining them up against the wall, moving myself towards them.
‘You’re a bit overdressed. Can we take this off?
’ he pulls at my kaftan sleeve. I sit up and raise my arms, consenting that he can proceed.
He gently lifts it over my head before tossing it to the floor.
His eyes inch slowly over the length of my body, and I feel my cheeks redden under his scrutiny.
My breasts propped up nicely in a Victoria’s Secret bra, rise and fall as my breathing quickens.
The lace of my g-string underwear shows a little of what he has only felt so far.
Slowly Jock lies down beside me on my bed.
Reaching over me, he takes two cubes of cheese from a plate.
He puts one in his mouth before offering me the other.
My lips part slowly to accept his offering.
Next, he selects two slices of prosciutto, again feeding himself first before putting the second slice in my mouth.
‘I love watching you eat,’ he says huskily.
‘Why?’ I ask.
‘I meet so many girls who eat like birds, paranoid about every calorie they ingest. They almost faint at the slightest bit of exertion because they are constantly in a state of near starvation.’
I wonder briefly where he meets all these starving bird girls before a cherry tomato is placed in my mouth.
I bite down on it. The tomato pops, squirting juice and seeds from my mouth.
I feel the liquid land just above the cup of my bra.
I giggle at both the sensation and the situation.
So much for sexy eating, I admonish myself silently.
Jock lowers his face to my chest, places his lips gently on the rise of my bust and slurps up the seeds, sucking a little of my breast into his mouth as he does. He licks the spot slowly, to make sure it is free of food and keeps on licking tantalisingly slowly across my chest.
‘Your eating reflects your zest for life, Bella,’ Jock says between licks.
‘You have a hunger for life. And,’ he smiles, ‘Your lips are stunning. I’ve been imagining them on me,’ he pauses to lick again, ‘for weeks,’ he finishes, returning his full focus to my chest. He slips his fingers under the straps of my bra, sliding them off my shoulders, pulling down the cups to expose both nipples.
I gasp as he takes one in his mouth, twirling its tip for a moment with his tongue.
Releasing my breast, Jock slides his hands between me and the bed.
I arch my back to accommodate his as he expertly unclasps my bra.
He watches me carefully as he lifts it off my body, tossing it on top of my already discarded kaftan.
Reaching back to the food, he dips a finger in the chocolate sauce, smearing a little on my lower lip.
At first, he licks it, then sucks my lip into his mouth, running his tongue along it.
Returning his finger to the chocolate sauce, this time he places it on one nipple before drawing a wiggle line across my chest to the other nipple.
Ever so slowly, he licks from one side of me to the other, flicking his tongue across the sweet liquid and eliciting responses from my body I didn’t know were possible. ‘Jock,’ I breathe heavily.
‘You want me to stop?’ he asks, worried.
‘Oh fuck no,’ I reassure him. ‘I just don’t know what you’re doing to me.’
‘You’re safe with me, Bella,’ he says with such conviction in his voice, a tear wells in the corner of my eye.
‘Oh Bella, have I said something wrong?’ Jock asks, his voice full of concern as he wipes away the tear.
‘No Jock, you say everything right. I trust you,’ I say, and I feel I actually mean it.
Reassured, he dips his finger back in the chocolate sauce before holding it vertically over my stomach. Sticky brown liquid drips off his fingertip, pooling in my belly button. Lowering his finger to my skin, he draws a chocolatey line downwards, stopping at the top of my underwear.
His tongue circles inside my navel. I wonder briefly if there is some kind of nerve that goes from the back of the umbilicus to the top of the vagina; it certainly feels like there is.
I feel the sensation his circling and prodding tongue creates deep in my core.
As he begins trailing his tongue down the line he has drawn on my abdomen, I lift my hands to my breasts and start to tug rhythmically at my nipples.
Jock glances up, watching me transfixed as his tongue moves ever lower.
Grasping my underwear on either side, he slowly lowers them over my hip bones and down my thighs, revealing my very auburn pubic hair on which he plants a gentle kiss.
‘Touch yourself,’ he requests huskily. ‘Show me what turns you on.’
‘Jock, I..’ I start to protest, suddenly feeling exposed and shy.
‘Please,’ he almost begs. ‘Trust me.’
And I do trust him.
I lower my left hand. Using two fingers, I part my labia a little, revealing to him my most private place.
I put two fingers on my right hand slowly into my mouth to moisten them before placing them gently onto my clitoris.
Jock lies between my legs, transfixed, his hands resting on the outside of my legs as I start moving my fingers in a circular motion, slowly at first, then quickening my pace as my breathing becomes faster and louder.
My back arches off the bed. ‘Oh,’ I groan.
Just when I think orgasm is inevitable, he wraps my moving fingers in his hand, lifting them away from my groin, replacing them instantly with his tongue.
He matches my speed and intensity, simultaneously circling and pressing his tongue on my clitoris.
My back arches further, my whole body stiffens, then shudders as the most intense orgasm I’ve ever experienced consumes me.
‘Oh. Oh. Oh God,’ I cry out.
Jock kisses his way back up my body to lie beside me.
‘The condoms we brought today are in your bedside drawer. If you want to?’ He asks.
I can’t speak. Spasms are still working their way out of every nerve, and my lips feel both numb and tingly at the same time. I can only nod in response. He turns, opens the drawer and pulls out a wrapper.
In the supermarket earlier, he’d asked if we should buy some, ‘just in case we needed them tonight, or some other time, no pressure.’ When I agreed, he’d asked me to choose which ones I wanted.
No jokes about how ‘they didn’t have ones big enough for him,’ simply, ‘which ones will make you feel safe.’
Jock pushes himself up onto his knees, and as he looks at me, he lets the towel slip from his waist. Like a scene in slow-motion, it glides to the bed. I try to hold his gaze, I really do, but my eyes betray me, dragged lower by forces beyond my control
‘Wow,’ I gasp, reaching up to touch his very erect penis. As I trace my finger gently up and down its shaft, Jock uses his teeth to tear the wrapper open. When the condom is in place, Jock moves his knees between mine, lowering his mouth to me.
‘You sure?’ he asks.
‘I’m very sure,’ I reply, moving my mouth to his and kissing him deeply. Jock guides himself into me, I arch my back to meet him, and slowly we find our rhythm.