Bassey asked Dara if she would mind helping clean up for just a few minutes before he took her home. Dara complied with his wish, as he knew she would. While Dara bussed dishes to the kitchen, she didn’t recognize that Bassey was quietly preparing his living room for her passionate surrender.
He turned the temperature up to 80 degrees and daydreamed about plying her mouth with kisses. He placed a special CD into the stereo player and imagined nuzzling her smooth neck. He placed a glass of ice (without a beverage) on a stool near the bar as he envisioned suckling her voluptuous breasts.
He checked his oversized lounge for the spare remote and imagined the pleasure he would have stripping off her panties to discover whether her pubic mound was covered with the same hair that framed her lovely face. And finally, he dimmed the lights until he could see shapes but not colours. He needed just enough light so that later on, he would be able to see his first thrust into Dara’s moist pussy.
Dara walked into the living room and nearly tripped over the nearest chair. “Turning off the lights for the evening?” she asked.
“Yes, it was much too bright,” he replied. She started for the hallway and her coat. He blocked her way.
“Please Dara, just one or two more dances before I take you home.” He had said it as a statement, not a question. Her FM told her to be very wary. Her lack of conviction would not deny a close friend’s request, however. It would be this same shyness that would ultimately lead her to yield her body to him.
He pressed track “1” on the remote, and the music sprang to life. The tunes on this disc were only the most romantic songs that made women swoon. After only a few bars, she had eased into a very comfortable place in her mind. Bassey took her in his arms. She loved this song. He intended to make love to her. And he started by nibbling on her neck. This was innocent enough that she didn’t protest.
Over the next few minutes, as he sucked up and down her neck, he made sure that she remembered just how much of her body he already possessed. Her arms were around his neck, but as he reestablished his control, her grip tightened, only to soften as her body responded to his touch. He concluded with a thorough kneading of her breasts in order to once again tease her nipples to full extension.
God, she was so beautiful. It was finally time to start the pleasurable task of removing the clothes from this unsuspecting woman in his arms. He started with the straps on her dress. With her hands around his neck, his hands glided from her breasts, under her arms and to her impeccable shoulders.
He touched the bare back above her dress for the first time. His hands slid under the straps of her dress. Her legs stopped moving, and she was frozen in fear. He continued stepping, and because he made no further advance, she started moving once again.
“I love this song, don’t you?” he whispered.
She responded, “It’s one of my all-time favourites.” As she said this, he hooked his thumbs under the straps and started to pull them to the sides. He was able to get one strap off her shoulder before she stopped him. She pulled away, looked straight at him, and, as defiantly as she could, asked what he was doing.
“I’m so sorry, Dara”, he lied. “I’ve had a terrible time with women lately, and just once this Christmas season, I was hoping to feel a woman’s bare breasts press against my chest”. She was filled with embarrassment at the thought that he might want her to bare her breasts right here in his living room.
As she stared, surprisingly, he reached for her love jugs and rolled her nipples between his thumbs and fingers. She moaned for the first time in spite of herself. He smiled knowingly to himself.
“You know how much I’ve always admired your breasts. I was hoping this might be your Christmas gift to me.” He had played perfectly on her sympathy. With this perfect request and the warmth she was feeling in her breasts, Dara simply melted.
Was this a victory of emotion or of the body? She looked around as if expecting to see if someone was watching them. If someone had been watching, they would have seen Bassey wink and play his last card on this hand.
“Won’t you do this for me, just this once?” She couldn’t speak in reply. She gave a weak nod, her locks shimmering in submission.
Bassey placed her hands around his waist now. Like the experienced predator that he was, he closed in carefully on his exquisite prey. He kissed and kissed her neck until she wondered if he had changed his mind. He had not.
He slipped the other strap off her shoulder and slid his hands for the last time along her bodice to the zipper on her dress. He moved his lips to hers, and as he gently kissed her, he slowly lowered the zipper. Without the tightness around her bust to support it, the dress quickly lost its resolve. It would have fallen on its own, but Bassey wanted the pleasure of removing it.
He maintained contact between his chest and hers. He moved his hands once again to her breasts, massaged them for a moment, released his chest and lowered the top of her dress over her brassiere and down to her hips. She flinched even though she had known this was coming.
He loved her body, and he loved her distress as he pursued her. Subconsciously, her body had recognized its jeopardy. But her mind didn’t realize that within minutes, not only would he have exposed her breasts, but he would have removed her dress and panties as well to reveal her true loveliness. Bassey would then be moving quickly to position her so he could climb on top of her and force his manhood into her.
Bassey lowered his lips to her bodice. He kissed the upper portion of her chest, then the top of both breasts. She combed her fingers through his hair as her breathing became more ragged. She was being tested to her limit. He moved his right hand from the bottom of her breast and around her side to her back. His left hand continued to knead her right breast, and he continued to kiss her chest.
He was a master at removing a brassiere with one hand. With a deliberate motion, he drew the sides of her brassiere together, drew them toward him, and unclasped her brassiere. Because he was holding it with his left hand, the brassiere did not fall. He raised up, looked her directly in the eyes, and removed her brassiere.
Her breasts fell free. Just as he had done three hours earlier, he lowered his gaze to her bust. But this time, he was able to see her soft, naked melons in all of their wonderful glory. They were magnificent!
Dara instinctively covered her breasts with her hands. He slid his hands down her now bare sides, enjoying the softness of her skin. He released his grip, stepped back and pulled his shirt over his head. She averted her eyes, but in curiosity, she finally turned her gaze back to his body.
She had seen his chest before and secretly, very secretly, admired the sharp angle between his chest and his rib cage. His well-developed chest was covered with a down of hair.
He moved toward her but was blocked by her arms. He punched the remote, and track 2 played. A single guitar resonated in a soulful melody. A flute joined in. It was so quiet in the room. Dara was getting hot, both physically and sexually.
With all of the alcohol she had consumed, her judgment was clouded and slow. She was sweaty and assumed that it was due to a passion that she was fighting to deny. He knew she was in distress and gently kissed her hands.
He drew her hands up and continued to kiss them. She thought he was reassuring her. In truth, as he moved her hands to his chest and then to his neck, he was accomplishing two things that would bring him pleasure. By raising her arms, she had slightly elevated her firm, young globes. Her perky nipples now winked up at him, begging to be stroked. He caressed them with his fingers, and they pressed forward to receive his favour. If he had driven her home right then, he would not have needed headlights. Her nipples were on high beam.
His second purpose for raising Dara’s hands was to remove this last barrier between their bare chests. With her nipples now fully prepared for him, he moved forward toward her. Without the layers of clothing between them to dull the sensation, her nipples hungered for his touch. His chest hairs softly teased her nipples to a painful erection. AM current coursed through her torso.
His hands eased onto the bare skin of her stomach, around her tiny waist, and onto her soft back. Finally, and so satisfyingly, he pressed into her and kissed her on the lips. She fought him mentally, but he was able to kiss her deeply. The kiss meant much to her, but she could not allow herself to enjoy it. With their chests now bared and his hands on the smooth skin of her back, his penis doubled in size and wanted attention badly.
He was being as deliberate as he must, but he was starting to impatiently yearn for the warmth of her womanly sleeve around his cock. In this state of arousal, the kiss to him meant that he had stripped off half of her clothes and was closing in on his ultimate goal. Her body would be begging for him soon. He needed to push ahead. He pressed the remote, and track three played.
The syncopated beat of jazz filled the air around them. He caressed her back with quick strokes, first side to side, then up and down. It was an uplifting interlude. As he continued his up-and-down strokes, he was gauging the tenacity of her dress.
It was fairly tight, but he was delicately rolling it down her hips with each stroke. Finally, he had lowered her dress enough so that it was supported only tenuously on the widest flare of her womanly hips. Now, he danced her to the stool where he had positioned the glass of ice. He ran his left hand through her hair. It drew her attention. At the same time, he grabbed ice with his right hand, coughed and rubbed it against his belt buckle.
Now, without touching her skin, his hands went to her sides and pushed her dress down. Dara’s dress fluttered to the floor. Her eyes opened wide. She was suddenly naked except for the skimpiest panties she had ever owned.
She intended to pull away, but just at that moment, Bassey pressed his waist into her. The ice-cold belt buckle sent a cold chill through her newly bared belly. Dara jumped back in shock.
“Dara, I’m so sorry. I forgot how sharp this belt buckle can be.” Bassey quickly stripped off his trousers. Dara would normally have been mortified or even terrified at the clothing that had just been removed, but instead burst into laughter. Bassey was wearing the silliest boxers inexperienced Dara had ever seen.
Bassey, the “player”, was wearing shorts adorned with Mickey Mouse and teddy bears. These were boxers that might look good on an 8-year-old, she thought, but not on a fully grown man.
While Dara laughed, Bassey delighted in the fact that through his use of distraction, he had been able to strip off her dress with virtually no resistance. He revelled in the knowledge that now only her panties protected her beautiful honey pot from him.
He stared at the V of material between her legs, trying to imagine what lay beneath. His thoughts engorged his penis.
As Bassey was admiring the moist patch between her legs, Dara had been examining his boxers. His dancing cock now abruptly turned her thoughts from the pictures on his shorts to the fully grown man inside them. She was receiving vivid visual confirmation of what she had felt while dancing. Bassey was packing a very large six-shooter in his holster.
Dara now fought to process everything that was happening. Her FM system warned her to get out of Bassey’s house before she heated up any further, but her AM dial made her wonder in detail about the cause of the very large tent in Bassey’s shorts.
Bassey sensed this conflict in her, reached for the spare remote under the chaise lounge and tapped track 4. Bob Marley’s Is This Love jumped to his aid. Dara vaguely recognized this music but couldn’t place it exactly. Bassey spoke.