A beautiful bright moon shone from a blanket of glimmering stars.
A night wind blew up causing the green shrubbery in front of the motel to dance gracefully. It was a night made for lovers, Michael thought. He glanced at the door of the motel room, thought about that bed just inside, and knew if he ever went past the threshold, he would never leave until he had made love to Rochelle. Recalling her previous resistance, he thought it best to avoid temptation.
“I don't think I'd better come in,” he said when he walked Rochelle to her motel door. He cupped her face in his hands and gently touched her cheek with his lips.
Rochelle gazed at him, hiding her disappointment. His announcement was not what she expected. Riding home, snuggled up close against Michael, she was certain he would attempt intimacy with her. Too needy now to appreciate his wanting to protect her from his strong sexuality, she merely nodded. Turning to unlock the door, she stepped inside.
Michael turned and went toward his car.
Rochelle locked the door behind her, realizing he had not kissed her goodnight. Neither did he mention seeing her the coming day, even though he told her earlier he would take her to see the realtor tomorrow. Leaning against the door, regretting his leaving, a sense of loneliness overcame her.
Michael went to his car and shoved the key in the ignition. He turned it and the car started up immediately, but for the life of him, he could not put the gear in reverse to back out of the parking space.
Every bit of his common sense told him to back the car out and leave, but he continued sitting there, the minutes ticking away.
Finally, he turned the ignition off, nurturing a need as old as humanity.
Rochelle stripped off her clothing, hanging everything on hangers. She kicked off her slippers and peeled off her panty hose and slip. She was down to her lace bikinis, and quickly donned her robe when the knock sounded on her door.
Tensing, she let out a startled gasp, frightened over who it might be. The fear of Tobias finding her continually played on her mind.
With Michael leaving only minutes earlier, she reasoned that it couldn't be him. She edged toward the door, listening for several seconds before she whispered, “Yes?”
“It's me, Rochelle. Michael. I forgot something.”
She let out a breath of relief and happiness suddenly flowed through her like a heady brew. With fingers flying, she took the chain off and opened the door just a crack. He was leaning up against the doorjamb, more casual looking than he actually felt.
“Michael?” she said breathlessly. “You frightened me. What did you forget?”
He pushed the door back and stepped inside, closing and locking it behind him.
“This,” he said throatily, taking her in his arms and kissing her lips. “I forgot to kiss you good night.” He planted several little kisses upon her soft face and pink lips. Then his lips consumed her mouth, sending fire to his groin. He pushed the robe off her shoulders so it slid down to the floor. Then trailing a chain of kisses down her breasts and stomach, he pushed the panties down to her feet.
Rochelle went into his arms, her head thrown back, while she delighted to the warm sensations brought on by Michael's kisses and intimate caresses. Thoughts ceased to exist, replaced with the heightening sensibilities and sensations washing over her. Her breath became ragged as he moved back so he could see her, consuming all of her with his eyes. Her soft warmth fired his blood with white-hot streaks of lightning. Time seemed of essence as he threw off his clothes and lowered her to the bed. His warm fingers stirred her to shimmering ecstasy until she was purring in his ear like a warm kitten, her sounds muffled only by his wet kisses as his tongue thrust into the moist cavern of her mouth.
Each movement was new, innocent and fresh in a glorious voyage of discovery for the two of them. Michael's hands, lips, and kisses trailed over every inch of Rochelle's body sending liquid fire spiraling downward into her loins. Willingly she sank below the waves of rapture, and yearned for the completion she was certain he could give her. When his hands and mouth left her feeling like a spring winding tighter and tighter, she murmured his name repetitiously as rising sensations promised to be a miracle never before experienced.
Responding, he moved on top of her, his knee pressing between her thighs until she opened to him. He entered her slowly, feeling the moist tightness surround him and contract to milk him further inside her. He knew he had died and gone to heaven, for nothing in his memory ever felt so wonderful. Not wanting to rush this bit of paradise he luxuriated in, he lay perfectly still inside her, his mouth seeking a taut pink nipple, his hand cupping the other breast while his thumb evoked erotic tingles in her blood, her body stirring and moving like a serpent beneath his.
Then unable to retain his own pleasure any longer, he thrust in and out of her with a rhythm that sent friction tingling through the nerves of each of their bodies. Her hips rose and fell in unison with his, meeting his thrusts then ascending with passionate response.
When he felt her contractions grow strong about his manhood, he knew she was reaching her peak, and he thrust harder, ready to surrender to that spiraling blast of intense heat similar to an erupting volcano. They both clung to each other, a bundle of convulsive and shuddering spirals unwinding together in a blending of heated and relaxing fulfillment that was unequaled by anything else.
Michael put off disengaging himself from her. He wanted to keep her there pressed tightly against him, now, forever. He had tasted paradise.
He lay a long time propped upon his elbows above her, his lips pressed against her neck. When he turned on his side next to her, holding her as close as he could in his arms, and kissing her lips, face and cheeks, she stared through eyes that sparkled with a kind of awe when she looked at him.
“Are you okay?” he whispered softly, holding her with a gentleness he had not known he possessed.
She pulled his head against her bosom and bent to kiss his forehead. Moisture filled her eyes, the moment as poignant as any ever spent. “That's never happened to me before,” she whispered. “It was the only part of me he couldn't control, and he hated me for it. I was afraid it might never happen.”
He raised his head, seeing such purity on her face, her confession raising his pride in his performance to unspeakable heights. She lay as humble and docile next to him now as the kitten she reminded him of when she was purring passionate little moans in his ear. “Never?” he echoed, brushing his fingers along her cheek.
“Never,” she replied through a warm intimate smile.
“Now, that you've told me that, I don't think I want to go sleep in my bed all alone,” he said, holding her against him.
“I never realized it could be like this.” There was no shame in her, no shyness as she looked at him, brushing her fingers against his hair, smoothing it back from his forehead, pasting kisses upon his cheek and lips.
“Rochelle love...” he groaned, holding her tightly.
She finally pulled away from him, crawling off the bed to head for the bathroom. She used a bottle of douche liquid, which she had foreseen the need to purchase earlier that day, and washed herself, as was her habit with Tobias.
When she came from the bathroom, she wrapped her robe about her, and went to stand before Michael where he sat on the edge of the bed. He had pulled on his briefs, looking most thoughtful when she first glimpsed him. When he looked up, he smiled. He buried his face against her abdomen, wrapping his arms about her hips and buttocks as she stood between his legs. He smelled the clean smell of her fragrant soap, and he parted her robe and kissed her on her navel, his lips traveling lower until a soft sound escaped her throat, and she lifted his head with her hand beneath his chin.
“Don't you have to go to work tomorrow?” she asked as his tongue did things to her navel, sparking fresh new flames inside her.
“Only if you'll agree to be my personal secretary and sit across from my desk from me,” he teased, nuzzling his face against her flat abdomen.
She lifted his chin again, until their eyes met, and she smiled at him, her teeth sparkling. She took his hands and he came to his feet, his arms quickly gathering her against his strong hard chest matted with dark hair.
As if he were not already holding her tight enough, he squeezed her in his arms, desire draining all reason. He pulled her back down on the bed on top of him, holding her there until his body ached all over with need. Rolling her on her back, he covered her face with kisses, spreading her robe open on either side of her.
Rochelle felt his gaze sweep over her, leaving a shy, confined heat in its wake.
There was no rush this time, the two of them moving with a rhythm that spread fire through both their loins leaving a flame of sensuous thrills. Such tenderness as Michael demonstrated was completely new to Rochelle, and she basked in the sweet joy of learning about and enjoying normal sex. Reaching that wonderful peak again, and the ensuing sense of completion, she dared to believe her life might eventually reach a point of normalcy.
He rolled off her and pulled her next to him. “If it weren't for the gossips, I'd take you home with me.”
Rochelle smiled, but said nothing. That possibility was definitely out. Tobias would be a dangerous enemy to any man involved with her, and she did not want Michael's home to become an arena.
Michael found his briefs and trousers and pulled them on, then his shirt. He had left his jacket in the car, so he sat down and put on his shoes and socks. Standing, he pulled her into his arms. “I'd stay the night with you if it wouldn't jeopardize your reputation.
However, the longer my car sets outside, the more chance of gossip.
Will you have breakfast with me at seven?” He reached to open the door.
This had been one of the most important nights of Rochelle's life. Learning that she was sexually inadequate was exciting knowledge. She had her arms about Michael's neck, wishing he could stay the night.
He brushed her hair behind her ear and kissed her throat.
“I should have bought an alarm clock. It's too late to ask George for a wake up call.”
“You don't need one. I can call you. Schell…” he started to say something, but changed his mind. Instead, he said, “Sleep tight and I'll see you in the morning.” With that, he gave her a good night kiss and backed out the door until he was at the hood of his car. With a sigh, he turned, went around to the driver's side and opened the car door.
Rochelle closed and locked her door.
She put on her gown and lay upon the bed, noticing Michael's manly scent upon the pillow. She hugged it in her arms, it touching her cheek so the pale scent of spicy aftershave filled her nostrils.
Grasping the pillow tighter, she closed her eyes dreamily, recalling the wonder of her captivating experience and basking in the glory of it. Eventually, she slept.