Author:
Jennifer S & Loveroy
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Date Posted: Tuesday, August 09, 10:20:43pm
In reply to:
Loveroy & Jenn S
's message, "Sanglant - Chapter 24" on Monday, July 18, 07:05:09am
The Van Damn's sat around Adrian's quaint living room discussing the situation at hand, regretting of course, the fact that this mission was in a hurried track and out of their authority. Trying to resolve the problems caused by Adrian stepping out of mission parameters was the only focus of the impromptu reunion; trying to erase the visual of the possible siblings getting it on was obsessing more than one Van Damn. The potential debacle that this day had brought was worrisome at best, was it possible that the Van Damn proclivity for inbreeding was going to continue? Was it really a curse?
Madeline and Paul whispered to each other as Adrian escorted Walter to the front door, how they were glad that George was no where to be found during this mess. Perhaps, Madeline suggested with clenched teeth, it was time to dust off the Gelman Process. Of course Paul objected as he always did to such an atrocious suggestion, and Madeline understood that she would get her way eventually, that was just the way things worked. Adrian returned to the couple's side and offered them something to eat and then proceeded to castigate the couple for showing up at her house wearing the rings, which she felt were a very telling sign of familial ties.
This tirade brought the family reunion to a halt, the son and mother agreed to disagree and parted ways wishing each other a good night. Adrian moved quickly to find George's last correspondence that usually came to her at a secret private post office box on the mainland. The reason for the secrecy was just in case she was being watched. The woman took the letter, in aristocratic card stock to her room to read for the umpteenth time and placed the envelope in a basket with some other correspondance by the office phone. Perhaps, Adrian thought, it was time to ask George to come home.
------
As the evening progressed, Michael and Nikita held each other in post coital bliss and he realized that she was content, relaxed and completely at ease in direct contrast to his abnormal disquietude. How could he have allowed his 'johnson' to influence his brain and thus betray this beauty's trust? The wonderful woman did not deserve to be taken advantage of, humiliated or lied to, and he had done just that with his inappropriate behavior towards her. He watched her sleep, her arms hugging him with such care and reliance that made his heart constrict, and he knew he would break her heart the moment the sun rose over the same ocean that brought them together.
Michael Samuelle was a player, but his playboy existence was totally the fault of the women he had previously allowed into his life and into his heart. Every one of those babes proved worthless and responsible for the hardening of the handsome man's heart, which they shattered into a million pieces when they left. The failed relationships made Michael run at the mere suggestion of the word 'love' and he didn't like what he was feeling right this second in the arms of an angel such as Nikita had proven to be. He was rationalizing his conduct and recalled the moments of passion he had just shared with this creature of light.
----
The sea pounded against the enormous boulders that adorned the beach, the salty air wetted the aroused bodies while they kissed contently, fully dressed. They were strangers, horny strangers with jumbled emotions and wants and needs. Michael tried to fight the woman's insistent appeal. She wanted him, wanted to control the inevitable and he hated giving up control, but surprisingly he was willing to relent to Nikita. He was zealously following her lead, and yet every once in a while he would try to dominate the prequel to a night of pure bliss, but then the blonde would sweep him again off his restrain and he gladly acquiesced.
"Mykohl," Nikita begged as she kissed him so tenderly that it curled his toes, "Let me be in control please."
Michael, eyes closed as he sighed deeply, hating to separate from the woman's lips, "Kee-tah please."
She rubbed her perky body against his straining one and sighed flushing, "Let go, give me control," her blue eyes sparkled making his green ones dance. "I promise you'll love me in the end."
It was at that moment when Michael should have disengaged from the wanton cocotte, walked away from the flirty blonde and acted like a man and reigned in his lust. Instead, he allowed her fingers to slowly march down his taut chest, pausing at his belt buckle, and continuing to his bulge, stroking the fine cloth of his obviously expensive trousers. He was always in command, his dominion of every situation was legendary among his lovers, his friends, his business associates and everyone he encountered in his life and yet...
When he realized she had taken the control that he guarded so doggedly he hesitated, for just a second and groaned, "Let's do this inside, in a proper bed."
The vixen wanted control, wanted spontaneity and wanted this man she was sure she already knew in the biblical sense. She smiled, winked at him while drawing his lower lip into her mouth whispered, "Now Michael, don't tell me you are a prude."
With this suggestion and to show her his answer, he ripped her shirt open, affixing his moist mouth against the woman's perky breasts. He knelt and next moved his lips to her groin, eliciting a moan from the woman who still wanted control of the lovemaking but decided instead to allow him this last hurrah. She moved her hands to his head, dug her fingers in his soft curls and directed his mouth by the movement of his head until she came, surprisingly still fully dressed but for the torn blouse.
Michael was desperate to take the woman and make her purr out of control over and over again, but surprisingly he was busy enjoying letting go, getting a rush that he had never felt before with this reckless experience. So right there on the beach Nikita gave Michael head, her talented fingers fumbling hurriedly with the silver buckle of his belt, not allowing the assistance Michael offered her.
She slowly, almost reverently lowered his fly with her teeth, the contact of the salty sea air with his hot hard penis making it jump with excitement. The woman's sex appeal was too much of a temptation for Michael to resist, so he relaxed and went with the extreme sensation of pleasure she was bringing to his nether regions. She plucked him out, his experienced rod acting innocent and devoutly unrestrained as she handled it expertly bringing him close to boil.
Nikita was kneeling before him now, her mouth working wonders against his aroused skin. She was sucking his head, licking the full 7 inches, swallowing so deeply that his manhood touched her throat as she worked her lips and tongue on the underside. He was begging for release, afraid that she would achieve it too soon and enjoying the heady feeling of this woman's devotion to the task at hand.
Her fingers were all over, scratching his testicles, caressing his perfect butt as her mouth offered him releases he never thought possible. Her fists were tight, she was glad she worked out and so was he; moving her closed hand rapidly as her lips followed the up and down motion, she extracted a curse and a prayer from the handsome man. When the time came for Michael to deposit his seed in his new lover's mouth, he caressed her blonde hair bringing her head closer to the body that hummed with need as he begged again, this time in French, for more.
Michael was swooning, his control gone, surrendered to Nikita, and his desire terrifying the man. There seemed to be nothing more to do but capitulate to the beautiful blonde who brought him to the highest of highs, to places he had never been before. As she swallowed his seed Michael let out an emotional cry, for the first time in his life the man was recklessly out of control and what scared him even more was that he loved every fear-inspiring moment of the tryst.
When the lovers cooled down and the man held her tightly kissing her mouth and enjoying every tender caress, they moved into the house. Gone was the fear that they were being watched, gone was the fear of pleasing each other, and gone was all reasoning for they both wanted much more of what they just had. They moved quickly to the room where they tore off their clothes and proceeded to pleasure each other for hour after hour, until exhaustion overtook them.
Michael, at Nikita's request stood by an old fashion full-length mirror, his perfect body reflected acrimoniously on the surface, for he didn't want to do what she implored him to do. "You'll enjoy it, you'll see. Please Michael touch yourself, derive joy from your beauty as I do."
He looked himself in the mirror, her reflection from afar also present, as he started slowly touching his hard nipples after teasing them by wetting his fingers with saliva. He looked at himself up close, relishing on the face of desperate need that looked back at him. His hands then fondled his naked form as they traveled to his penis while exploring the fine hairs that saluted him as he stroked his skin. By the time Michael reached his manhood he was ready to scream, he needed his touch to be firm and quick, so he fisted his rod and pumped wildly, roughly, full of want, emotion and feeling quite free. He stopped short of coming, wanting now to enjoy the woman that had watched him liberate himself from the prudish behavior he had not known he practiced.
He approached her slowly; she had moved to the bed and was busy pleasuring herself while the tremendous spectacle Michael presented bloomed before her. He lay beside her, a perfect 69 position as he replaced her fingers with his tongue working her clit; her mouth once more sucked the man hard and the lovers came together as one. Nikita, more lax with her emotions than Michael whispered the freakin' 'L' word to him, and although he didn't seem to mind, his heart crumbled into dust.
After the confession, she rapidly fell asleep and he kissed her closed eyelids, her lips and her head. Poor Michael lay on the bed uncomfortably and conflicted because of the emotions these hours had stirred. He watched her sleep and regretted his wanton disregard for this woman's feelings and when the sun started its slow rise over the horizon, Michael slipped out of the bed, dressed after finding his strewn clothes around the room and walked out. Leaving a clinically cold note for Nikita by the coffeepot, Michael felt he explained his decision to leave; when he closed the door to the cottage behind him, a gust of wind blew the note away without his knowledge.
----
The entire time that he walked towards Adrian's cottage Michael chastised himself for having been so irresponsible and so weak. He was scared still of what he felt for this woman and that potentially could bring such grief into his life for he knew nothing about her. He arrived at Adrian's home around 7:00 am, making some excuse about having to return home because he received an emergency call from his home. He requested she provide him with a ride to the mainland since the water taxi was sleepily bobbing up and down on her beach.
The old woman perceived that something had gone awfully wrong between the couple; she somehow understood that her Nikita was about to be hurt and torn. But she didn't reprimand Michael for leaving 'again', au contraire, she called the water taxi to take him to the mainland as he requested. While Adrian was putting in the call to O'Brien, Michael stood by a window in the office overlooking the spectacular sunrise.
On the desk Michael saw an envelope sitting in a basket with an old fashion wax seal sporting the same signet as his ring's stone. He left Adrian's cottage, never looking back. The envelope he'd found now sat snuggly in his pocket next to the attorney's correspondence that brought him to Van Damn Island. On the mainland he quickly took a plane back to Europe, still feeling like a shit for never even saying goodbye in person to Nikita who was by now starting to wake in her lonely bed.
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Sanglant - Chapter 25 NC-17!!!!!