The Gentleman Caller

by The AB Chicas

Note: This story is a joint effort of the members of the eGroups ABChicas email list. Many thanks to the following contributors: Jeanne, Deena, Sharon, Alison, Di, Steph, SusanLeigh, Vicki, Peggy, Linda and JoAnn. This was a terrific exercise! KC

Imagine that your friend has set you up with a date for the season's fanciest holiday party. You're leery of blind dates, but your friend insists that you'll really like this man. He's very attractive, she assures you, but only just arrived from Spain, so he doesn't know anyone yet. And, she adds, he's very eager to meet you. You're skeptical, but you want to make a good impression, so you spend most of the day getting ready for your date. You're just putting the finishing touches on your hair when the doorbell rings (he's very punctual!), and you open the door to find this gentleman on your doorstep. Making a mental note to thank your friend with a lavish gift, you take the gentleman's arm and step out into the evening, looking forward to the party and whatever else the night may hold.

He offers you a single blood red rose with a flourish, comparing its beauty to yours. You tuck it into the side of your purse so its bloom is displayed. Gently cupping your elbow in his hand, he escorts you to his waiting car, a gleaming black low-slung Ferrari. As you slide into the front seat, a generous flash of thigh is revealed as the side slit in your dress flares open. You notice him eyeing that slim limb appreciatively without saying a word. He guns the car into life and you speed away into the night heading toward the city and the bright lights that shine in the distance." I hope you don't mind, but I felt that a loud noisy party was no place to get to know one another. I have booked reservations at a small Andalucian restaurant. I know the owners and I am sure that we will be able to enjoy a fine meal and get to know more of each other." What do you say?

You swallow once, twice, thrice...trying to get words out of your mouth. You want to say "I'll follow you anywhere" but you can only manage to croak out "that's sounds good".

He keeps stealing looks at you from under incredibly thick eyelashes--a gesture so endearing that it makes your heart race. Mental note: have doctor check heart rate...this rapid movement couldn't possibly be healthy.

Trying to recover some aplomb, you stick with safe topics.

"Have you been in the States long?" Oh, I bet he hasn't ever been asked that before.

"Only a few months," he sounded wistful, sad.

"You miss your home in, where was it again, uh Spain?" Two dynamite comments, girl...you are on a roll!

He sighed. "Yes, I miss my country. The people are so warm and open and..." he stopped and turned to me and smiled. "But we are only talking about me. What about you?"

What can you say? That you're a writer who never leaves the house and who hasn't seen the inside of a good restaurant or the outside of a handsome man for so long that its a good thing you write children's stories because if you wrote romances you would have run out of material long ago?

So you say, "What would you like to know?" and smile casually, catching his eye for just a moment before looking away coyly. Not that you want to be coy, but if you look too long, you lose your breath.

"Do you like to travel?" he asks with another glance at your leg before his gaze rises slowly to your breasts, which you hope are not heaving quite as quickly as your heart is beating. That makes such a ridiculous picture in your mind that you break into a wide smile.

He catches his breath and says, "You have a beautiful smile," as he reaches to touch your cheek with the back of his index finger. Then he looks ahead and says, "here we are." His hand moves back to the steering wheel, but you can still feel his touch, a lingering tingle that began at your cheek and has now spread through every nerve.

He parks and jumps out of the car to run around and open your door. Then he offers his hand, which you take and say…

"Thank you," as you attempt a graceful exit from the low-slung car. The warmth from his hand spreads up your arm, enveloping your body in a radiant glow that you just know is being reflected by a reddening blush of your cheeks.

You enter the restaurant, stopping as you are struck by the overwhelmingly Spanish ambiance. Awed, you glance up to see him smiling down at you, pleased at your reaction. "This restaurant reminds me of my home in Malaga. The food is excellent."

The hostess arrives and his hand moves to the small of my back as he guides me to the table. You are seated and Antonio immediately places an order for an expensive bottle of wine.

"In the car you asked me if I like to travel. Tonight I feel as if I have been magically transported to Spain!"

You look wide-eyed around the room, soaking in every detail so you could relive the memory over and over. Suddenly you feel the warmth of his hand once again as his fingers cover yours and you say...

"Have you been in the States long?" Oh, I bet he hasn't ever been asked that before.

"Only a few months," he sounds wistful, sad.

"You miss your home in, where was it again, uh Spain?" Two dynamite comments, girl...you are on a roll!

He sighed. "Yes, I miss my country. The people are so warm and open and..." he stopped and turns to you and smiled. "But we are only talking about me. What about you?"

"Oh, but I was so enjoying listening to your voice," you try not to sound too disappointed, "I love your accent." Great! Perhaps sometime tonight you *will* think of something original to say.

"Ah," he says chuckling, "it is not I who have the charming accent, but you."

You smile shyly. "It's all about perspective really, isn't it?" You hope you've finally said something he hasn't heard a thousand times before.

"I thought you might like to taste something Spanish tonight." There's a look of innocence on his face as he says it, but the way he leans towards you makes you wonder if he is thinking the exact same thing as you are.

"I'd love to," is all you can manage to breathe.

You let your eyes wander to the hand that still covers yours. His fingers are strong, and stroke gently over your skin. The sensation ripples up through you, spreading warmth through every part of your body. Slowly, your eyes re meet his. You fight the need to groan out loud. You have never seen such a beautiful man. Perhaps there's a novel in you after all.

"What would you like, Laura?" His voice is soft and filled with meaning. The way he pronounces your name makes your whole body melt.

The menus have arrived, but you don't want to move your hand from under his to take the one offered to you. It's obvious he's going to have to order for you. The answer to his question is almost certainly not on the menu. Fighting another blush, you look away, hoping he's turned his attention to other things.

The heat in your stomach rises, and you begin to have serious doubts as to whether you can manage to eat a single thing. You try and stay calm, but the pounding of your heart is fast overwhelming you. The noise from the other diners seems to have faded away. There's only you, and him.

"I'm not hungry!" you blurt out. His eyes open a little wider, but there's a smile on his lips.

"Would you like to go somewhere else instead?"

A million possibilities race through your mind as you think of all the places you'd like to go with him. At last, your glance falls on the view outside the window by your table, and you see the moonlight shining on the river that runs through the city. There is a walkway by the river with small trees adorned with thousands of tiny white lights. You see one or two couples walking there, hand in hand.

"Let's walk by the river," you suggest, and he rises immediately, drawing your chair away from the table. The steps down to the river walk are steep, and he takes your arm, making sure that you don't stumble. At the bottom of the steps, you stand for a moment, looking at the moonlight on the water. He puts his arm around you and draws you close, whispering "Laura" in a voice like a caress.

The touch of his hand on your bare shoulders makes you tremble with desire. "Are you cold?" he asks, removing his jacket and draping it about you. As his fingers smooth the lapels, they brush briefly against your breasts, and you are filled with a sudden longing that takes your breath away. "Shall I tell you something, my dear?" he asks, and you nod, utterly unable to speak or to look away from his beautiful face.

"I don't believe that I have ever seen anyone as beautiful as you," he said as his hands slip down your arms slowly. His fingers entwine themselves in yours as your breath catches in your throat. His thumbs begin a slow caress of your palms as a soft breeze off the river ruffles the dark brown curls that fall around his face.

You mindlessly fumble for the perfect reply, but all that comes out of your mouth is "That's exactly what I was thinking about you." His dark coffee eyes look deep into yours and then drift down to look at your mouth. Your tongue slips out to wet your lips and you hear a soft but deep moan from his throat.

His hands pull your body to his - near enough to feel the heat emanating from his. Your breasts brush the front of his jacket and the response is immediate. Not only do you feel the tingling rush in your body, but judging by his ragged breathing, his response was immediate as well. You know what is coming and the moments pass quickly but in slow motion as well. The twinkling lights from the trees fade away as all you see is his eyes.

"I want to kiss you," he whispers as he intently watches your face. His hands press into your back, slide up to your shoulders to the back of your head and then into your hair. You cannot answer but lean into his chest as your arms creep around his neck. His mouth descends upon yours and your world begins to spin into the stars.

Slowly the world stops spinning and you look up to see his eyes shining into yours.

"Querida," he whispers. "Did you feel the stars spin when our lips met?"

"They're still spinning, but they're in your eyes now."

He laughs gently and lightly touches your mouth once more with his.

"If we kiss any more out here, we may be arrested for making a display of ourselves." You take a deep breath and say slowly, hesitantly.

"Would you like to come back with me to my place for some coffee?" Coffee? Si, coffee..." and he grins, teeth gleaming as the night skies darken. He slips his arm around you, his hand sliding to rest gently against your hip as he leads you back to his car. He places you into the passenger seat and closes the door. You struggle to control your pounding heart while he slides his lean body into the low-slung seat opposite you. He touches his forehead against your hair. His hand caresses your knee and his fingertips trail upward along your thigh a couple of inches, making your breath catch before he moves his hand away to put the car in gear. Within a few moments, he glides the powerful automobile into your driveway. You swing your legs off of the seat and he pulls you into his arms. You walk slowly to the front door, holding your breath as his fingertips play beneath your ear, then slide softly from your elbow to remove the keys from your hand. He pushes the door open and pulls you inside, closing off the rest of the world. His lips touch yours, then apply more pressure and he moans into your mouth. "You are so beautiful, querida, shall we light a fire? I want to see you in the firelight." You stumble after him as he pulls you toward the hearth..."but, wait, I thought that you wanted coffee?" you murmur, sinking down onto the carpet and watching as he kneels on the hearth."

He turns, and smiles. "No, only you," he murmurs. You stare into his eyes, watching the light of the new flames dancing in his eyes, along with something else.

Is this really happening? you think. To me?

"I love your hair in this light," he whispers, and cups your cheek gently. Those dark eyes are mesmerizing you. He leans closer and his mouth covers yours in a devastating kiss, his tongue delving into yours, drawing back to trace your lips and then sinking again, exploring. You can feel a hand on your back, tracing your spine with a sensuous stroke. Never breaking the kiss, he moves his hands to your shoulders and slowly pushes you back onto the floor, reaching behind you to slide a cushion underneath your head.

"I want to love you Laura. Will you let me?"

"Yes," you breathe softly, and sigh as his mouth moves down your throat, and one warm hand covers your breast, its' heat penetrating the silk covering you.

"Mmmnnnn, something else I would like to taste. But we don't want to ruin this beautiful dress…" and he slowly works the buttons free from their holes, pausing to kiss the skin he uncovers.

You can feel the heat from the fireplace warming your body but it does not begin to compare to the heat he is causing at the core of your womanhood. Soft lips place feathery kisses across your collarbone and linger at the hollow of your throat.

"Oh, Antonio!" you hear, hardly recognizing the voice so full of need and desire as your own.

Your hands seem to move on their own, grasping his shirt and tugging the tails from his trousers. As if by magic, buttons are undone and it opens to reveal soft curls covering the sexiest chest you've ever seen in your life.

His hand leaves your breast, moving behind you. With a quick movement, you feel the clasp of the lacy, slightly decadent, bra release. The garment disappears and you gasp as you feel the warm, moistness of his lips where his hand had been only seconds before.

Your back arches and your hands entwine in the luxurious, curly locks. Everything disappears from your consciousness. For this moment, the world belongs to the two of you. Nothing else exists.

You know you should let him lead the way, but you want him as much as he seems to want you. Pressing your hand onto his shoulder, you roll him away. He raises his face, questions in his eyes. "Am I moving too fast for you?"

"No." The word is a caress, and you shake your head. He could never move too fast. "I just want to look at you."

He settles onto his back, relaxed and sure of himself. Spreading his arms out wide, he invites your look. His eyes watch yours as you sweep down over his body. You want to see him naked. You want to see the firelight dancing over his skin. Leaning down next to him, you lower your mouth to his tight nipples, searching through the softness of the hair on his chest. He lets out a grunt, his back arching as yours did only moments before. His response is natural and abandoned, and your tongue works teasingly over the hard nubs. Wanting more, his hand clasps the back of your head, and your teeth nip.

Your hand strays lower, your fingertips tracing the line of hair that disappears beneath the band of his trousers. Lightly, you smooth your palm over the material. His murmur is louder this time. You falter at the feel of the hardness of flesh that fills your hand. He's aroused, and you know you want him more than anyone you've ever met in your life.

Watching his face, eyes almost closed, nostrils flaring, breath streaming faster in and out of his swollen lips you stroke his hardness. Softly. You bring your hand slowly out of his trousers and his eyes pop open. A smile on your face, you dip your head and place your mouth upon his. Your hands have moved to his waist, holding him, kneading his flesh. You are the aggressor now. You plunge your tongue into his mouth. You feel his response. You want to devour him.

Suddenly, you pull back. Up on your knees you lift a leg to straddle him. Your tight skirt is pushed up to the top of your thighs as you move. His hands like iron shavings to a magnet are on your breasts, clutching, stroking...a moan escapes your lips. You feel his harness beneath the crisp fabric of his trousers. These trousers have got to go. Sliding yourself backwards, you hear a whimper as your breasts move beyond his reach... You lean forward; your face is inches from the button of his pants. With one movement it is undone, another swift flick of your fingers and his zipper is open revealing red silk satin clinging to the shape of his manhood beneath them…

You move your hands back to his waist sliding the pants down. He is obliging. You hear his breath quicken as he rises up, allowing you to slide the garment past his round, perfect behind...

Slowly you slide his pants down past his behind and down his legs. Now there is nothing between you and your final goal but that sinful red piece of cloth. It's a red flag now, like the cape that challenges the matadors.

And you are just the woman to take the bull by the horns.

As if in prayer, you kneel before him, your face close to his crotch. He can feel your breath across his loins like the warm wind of Andalucia and he responds with a gasp and a sigh, bucking against the breeze that caresses his flesh.

"Off!" he grits his teeth so fiercely against the desire you have stirred in him that he sounds like he is in pain. "Take them off. Now!"

You smile. "Your wish is my command."

Using your hands and your mouth you drag the crimson barrier that imprisons him from his body. His flesh springs free and now he has found a new jailer - your lips.

As your lips slide down his shaft, he is as hard as iron. Your tongue caresses him, swirling over his sensitive flesh, and he buries his hands in your hair. "More," he pleads, in a voice rough with passion, and your head dips lower, taking him fully into your mouth. With a groan, he begins to pump into you, and you close your eyes, savoring the taste of him as the little moans of pleasure escape his lips.

Your own need is growing now as his pleasure arouses you. You raise your head and look up at him. His dark eyes blaze with passion, and he pulls you toward him, stoking you with hands that seem instinctively to know your deepest desires. His mouth covers yours in an endless kiss, and as he cups your breasts, his thumbs brush the nipples that tighten under his touch. His hand moves down to the waistband of your skirt, and he unfastens the button, sliding his fingers beneath the fabric as he strokes down your smooth belly to the top of your silky panties.

You moan softly as his nimble, knowing fingers slip deep into the soft, moist cleft of your pleasure.

"You're ready for me," he whispers, stroking you gently. He smiles, a smile that is all male, all hot, dripping, steamy sexuality. He knows his power over you at this moment...but he does not use it to please himself...no, he only seeks to please you, to give you what you have always dreamed of.

"Yes," you murmur in return, closing your eyes and arching your body towards his hand. It feels as he can't get close enough, that he can't touch you deeply enough, you must have more...

"Do you want me inside of you, querida?" he whispers again, next to your ear. His voice is low and deep, hypnotic in its effect. He bends his head to gently kiss the curve of your neck as he slips two long, sensitive fingers into your body, as if he were made to be there, made to be a part of you. You jerk from the sudden inferno of pleasure that surges through you as he moves his hand back and forth, bringing you closer to your fulfillment...but not yet, not yet. You can see it in his eyes, feel it in the warmth of his lips on your body...he has plans for you...delicious, decadent, desirous plans that the fire in his gaze and kiss can only hint at. You want more. You must have more. You must have all of it...all of him.

"Yes," you whisper, your voice shaking with need. "I want you. I want you inside of me. Now..."

His hand slips back, trailing the hot, wet line of your cleft until he finds what he is seeking, the center of your pleasure, the core of your essence. Your body feels as if it has been transformed into a tower of flame as his fingers begin to arouse and caress you. Your panting and moaning sounds loud to your ears, but you are so filled with desire that you no longer care or even think to feel embarrassed. You grip onto his shoulders, allowing your head to fall back, feeling the tight, unbearably sweet tension of your orgasm begin to build and build. Your body is moving against his, bucking like a wild, beautiful mare begging to be set free...and he says....

"Now you know how you made ME feel."

"No!" Gathering yourself, you turn him onto his back and straddle his hips. "No, but it's how I'm going to make you feel NOW." You need to be released from the pain gnawing inside you. You've waited too long.

He's more turned on than you can imagine. His flesh throbs hard against you. You grind teasingly over him, making his eyes shut and his head press back into the floor.

"I want you," he groans. It's as much as he can do to say the words, and you wriggle your hips, centering him beneath you. There's a pause that lasts forever. His eyes open. You watch him, waiting to see the flood of pleasure break through him as you lower yourself slowly around him.

He gasps. His eyes close, but you need to see him.

"Look at me!" you plead, and he fixes you again with his stare. Your whole body begins to melt as he moves deeper inside you. You want the entry to last forever, but his moans are growing more tortured. He needs to move. His hands slide to your hips, holding you firmly. You try to resist, but he's insistent. He thrusts upwards with his powerful body, impaling you totally on the smooth, hard column of flesh.

His lips part, his moan lost in the sound of your own cry of need. You want to make him wait for his release, but you aren't sure you can. He reaches so deeply inside you that you can feel him everywhere. Tentatively you rock against him. Magic shudders through your stomach. You fall forward, pressing your hands onto his chest, and this time he takes your hips tightly, forcing you backwards. You call out at the feel of him, but he won't stop. The rhythm builds and your bodies surge together. The sheen of sweat breaks out over you, and still he presses upwards, deeper and harder with each thrust.

There's an animal groan from his throat. He wants to possess you as much as you want him. When he shoves you roughly onto your back, you don't stop him. His arms plant either side of you. Your legs encircle him. Straightening his elbows, he raises himself up. Blindly, you rub your thumbs over his nipples, then slide your hands down over his back to the curve of his buttocks. He gasps with the pain of holding off his orgasm. It's too late to stop it now. His last thrust is wild, almost savage. You both yell with disbelief. Your body clenches around the burning shaft buried so deep inside you, pulling you both over the edge into intense, exquisite ecstasy.

As you collapse together, and your ragged breathing slows, he nuzzles your ear, murmuring, "What are you doing tomorrow night?"