James went to the bedside table and turned on the radio. He spun the dial until he landed on some gentle chamber music, and left it on. He went into the dining room and returned with a lit candle from the table. He placed the candle on the floor in a corner and turned the light out. Gently waving shadows decorated the wall and ceiling from the candle on the floor. They seemed to be undulating to the gentle string quartet music.

Warm, strong hands caressed my shoulders. James ran his hands up the back of my neck and his fingers massaged my scalp. He caressing fingers travelled down my back, pressing here and there, always with some kind of knowledge or experience. His every touch increased my passion and dissipated any inhibitions I might have had. I felt very uninhibited at that moment, and wondered if I’d ever have James cock inside me, my pussy, my ass, my mouth, anywhere. James massaged my ass cheeks, the backs of my legs, and the bottoms of my feet. Finally, he rolled me over onto my back again, near the edge of the bed. I looked over at him, hoping he’d dropped his pants, but he still had them on. Even his shirt was still closed. I again wondered if he was weird.

He caressed my face with his fingertips, and ran them down over my throat and to my boobs. He played with my nipples, and they were standing stiffly, erect as little soldiers. My pussy was running with juices, and I began to hope he wouldn’t lick my clit. I was embarrassed by all the cum trickling out of my fuck hole. No sooner did I have that terrible thought in my mind than James stepped back from the bed. Still looking at me with that admiring gaze while I lay there on my back, stark naked, I looked back at him while he shed his shirt and undid his pants. They dropped to the floor near my clothes, and he reached down to pull off his socks before he lowered his briefs and his cock swung out and down, dangling like a pendulum. It wasn’t as big as the black one that Rhoda had sucked, but it was big enough, and it was attached to a very nice person.


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