Made For Sex (4 page)

The scene at his father's dinner table had been a humiliation for Tim and for several weeks he had gone straight home after work and shut himself in his apartment. After almost a month his father had showed up at his door and sat him down for a serious talk.

At first Tim had been appalled by his dad's suggestion of hiring a prostitute, but when Ronnie's name came up, Tim's interest had been piqued and his body had reacted. Although he'd only met her the one time on the boat, he'd spent many nights fantasizing about her long blond hair and great body. TJ had explained about Jack and Ronnie's unusual relationship, and Tim had agreed to the outlandish plan.

Now Ronnie was here and Tim was panic-stricken. This was all a terrible mistake. As Tim saw the corners of her mouth turn up, he asked, “What are you smiling at?” Her eyes were roaming all over his body, making his skin prickle. Was she going to make fun of him and of this ridiculous idea?

“Nothing. It's just that you've matured and I enjoy looking at you.” She would tell him later, in detail, how hunky he'd become. Instinctively Ronnie knew that he wasn't ready.

Tim was nice looking, with sandy brown hair and eyes the color of toast. As Tim nervously ran his long, delicate fingers through his hair, Ronnie thought about how those hands would feel on her skin. Nice, she thought, warming to her task. Very nice. And despite his nervousness, he had a sexy way of looking right into her eyes that made Ronnie tingle. “May I come in?” she said, noticing that he had worn the jeans she'd suggested.

Tim stepped back and let Ronnie brush past him into his apartment. God, he thought, she smells so good. “I'm glad you came.” His face reddened and he looked mortified as he realized his accidental double entendre.

“You know, Tim,” Ronnie said as Tim shut the door, “we're going to drive each other crazy if we don't relax.” She placed a light kiss on his cheek and dropped her coat on a chair.

“Yeah,” he said with a sigh. “I've been jumpy as a cat all day.” He rubbed his hands down the thighs of his jeans. “I'm not sure this was a good idea.”

“It was a wonderful idea and we'll just talk for a while. Nothing you don't want. Okay?”

Tim looked at his shoes, then looked at Ronnie. God, she was so sexy. He nodded.

Suddenly Ronnie was completely comfortable. Tim was a genuinely nice human being. “There's nothing to be jumpy about. Have you got anything to drink? I think we could both use one.”

“I've got a bottle of champagne.”

“Great. Got any orange juice? We could make mimosas.”

“Sure. Good idea. The OJ's in the fridge.”

“Any brandy?”

“There might be a bottle in the closet to the right. Why?”

“To make the perfect mimosa,” Ronnie said, crossing to the tiny kitchen, “you should add a shot of brandy.” Ronnie retrieved a container of juice and rummaged through the liquor closet until she found a bottle of Triple Sec. “This'll do,” she said. Returning to the living room, she saw that Tim had half-filled two champagne flutes with champagne. He quickly added an equal amount of juice, then she topped each off with a shot of Triple Sec.

“To the evening,” Ronnie said, touching her glass to Tim's.

Tim stared into her eyes over the rim of his glass, unaware of the sensuousness of his gaze. “Yes. To the evening.”

Not too fast, Ronnie told herself, tearing her eyes from his face. She wandered. “Nice place,” she said. They stood in the large living room which was comfortably furnished with a cream-and-navy rough-textured sofa, a matching lounge chair, and modern wooden coffee and end tables. The walls were covered with photos, mostly landscapes, taken all around the world. One that particularly intrigued her showed a market scene of stalls stacked with merchandise and aisles filled with over-tired tourists. Although the photo was in black and white, it conveyed all the colors of the scene. “Where's this?”

“Cairo,” he said. “I was there two years ago with my dad.”

“And this?” The picture was of a river with houseboats littering its shores.

“Amsterdam.”

“Wow,” she said, honestly impressed. “Did you take all these pictures?”

“Yeah. Photography has been a love of mine since I was a kid.”

“These are terrific.”

“Thanks. I've converted my second bedroom into a darkroom and I do all my own developing and enlarging.”

Ronnie walked slowly around the room studying the black-and-white photos. “These are really very good. Do you ever do portraits?”

“Sure.” He pulled out an album and proudly showed Ronnie several skillfully taken photographs of women. He pointed to one, a slightly over-made-up woman in her early twenties with an expression that, despite the smile, seemed disapproving. “That's Clarisse, my ex-fiancée. I wanted to mount this photo on cardboard and use it as a dartboard, but it's too good a picture. You know, it's funny. Now that I think about it, this was one of the few times I ever saw her smile when it wasn't for effect.”

Ronnie laughed. “From what your father told me, the dartboard idea sounds like a good one.”

Tim hesitated, then joined Ronnie's laughter. “You're right. But it truly is a good picture of her.” He studied the photo. “Actually, she's never looked that good.”

Ronnie kicked off her shoes, settled onto the sofa, and patted the seat next to her. “Sit here and we'll talk.” As he sat down, she asked, “Would you be interested in taking some pictures of me? I'd love to have a good portrait to give Jack for our anniversary.”

“Sure. That would be great. I'd really enjoy it.”

“Have you ever considered taking portraits professionally? The ones you showed me were really good.”

“Do you really think I could do this for money?”

“You never know. Maybe the ones I have in mind will be the start of a new career.”

While they made small talk Ronnie felt the alcohol warm her body and knew that it would be easing Tim's fears as well. When there was a lapse in the conversation, she slid down so that her head rested on the back of the sofa. She handed Tim her glass and asked, “Would you like to kiss me?”

Tim put their two glasses on the table and said, “I think I would.”

Ronnie wrapped her hand around the back of Tim's neck and gently pulled him toward her. She framed his face with her hands as he touched her lips with his. Gently, teasingly, she moved her mouth over his, nipping his lower lip with her teeth. “Ummm, nice,” she purred.

Tim sat back. “This is so awkward. I don't know what to do with my hands. Maybe this isn't such a good idea.” He looked away.

“We don't have to do anything you don't want to,” Ronnie said, “but I'll be very disappointed.”

Suddenly annoyed with the whole thing, he looked at her and snapped, “I don't need charity.”

Ronnie stood up, unzipped her jeans, and slid them to her knees. She grabbed Tim's hand and pressed it against the crotch of her panties. “What do you feel? Am I hot and wet for you? Does this feel like charity?”

Her heat warmed his hand and her wetness made his fingers damp. She wanted him. Really wanted him. He looked into her eyes and saw desire burning there. Oh Lord, don't let me back out, he prayed, both to himself and to Ronnie.

She pulled his hand away from her crotch and held it while she slid her jeans back up and sat back down on the sofa. “I want you,” she said softly, her gaze never leaving his eyes, “but I'll stop if you really want me to.” She raised his hand to her mouth and placed a kiss on the end of each finger. “Should I stop?”

“No,” he moaned.

She flicked her tongue over the tip of his index finger. “Then let's pretend that this is your cock.” She drew the tip of his finger into her mouth. “Can you feel it? Does it feel good?”

He certainly could and it was unbelievably erotic. Electricity sparked in his groin, hardening his penis. “It feels very good.” The words came out as part breath and part groan.

“Good. Then close your eyes and let me suck you.” Tim closed his eyes and let his head fall onto the back of the sofa. It would be all right. Millimeter by millimeter she pulled Tim's index finger into her mouth, licking and nipping at the tip. She moved to the second finger and sucked it, then the third and then the pinkie. She lavished attention on each finger of his other hand in turn, until heat radiated from his body.

“This is how much I want you,” she whispered. She took his hand and rubbed the palm against one erect nipple. This was wonderful. She could use his hand to touch herself exactly the way she wanted. She pressed and rubbed, arching her back and reveling in the sensations caused by his hand on her breast. Despite her hunger, however, she went no further, wanting Tim to take some of the initiative.

Soon touching Ronnie's breast through her shirt wasn't enough for Tim. He wanted to kiss her, to touch and taste her. He licked his lips and stared at her mouth. “I want you.” Hesitant to do anything to break the mood, yet unable to resist any longer, he leaned forward and brushed Ronnie's lips with his. Suddenly he needed to devour and be devoured. He moved his head so he could delve into her warm mouth. He couldn't get enough of her.

Ronnie had never been kissed so thoroughly. “Oh Tim,” she sighed, wrapping her arms around his neck. They kissed for a long time, as Ronnie slowly stretched out on the sofa and pulled him over her so that his body covered hers.

“Too many clothes,” Ronnie whispered when they paused for breath. As Ronnie removed her blouse and tossed it on a chair Tim stood up and pulled off his shirt. His body was just as beautiful as Ronnie had anticipated. When he stood and started to unbutton his jeans, Ronnie stopped him. “Not yet.” She stood up and moved so close to him that her lace-covered breasts brushed the sparse hair on his chest. Slowly she ran her hands over his well-developed shoulders. “When you opened the door I knew your body would look like this,” she murmured. “So beautiful.”

“I go to the gym a couple of times a week,” he said, breathless. “I lift.”

“You certainly do,” Ronnie said, sliding her palms over his chest and down his back. “Your body is wonderful.”

Tim unhooked Ronnie's bra and freed her breasts. “So is yours.”

Ronnie slid Tim's hands down her ribs. “Pick me up,” she said. “I want to feel you move.”

With Ronnie's palms on his upper arms, Tim tightened his hands on her waist and lifted. “I love the way your muscles move under your skin,” she said, kneading Tim's biceps.

“And I love your tits,” he said, holding her so her breasts were level with his mouth. He took one nipple and drew it into his mouth.

Her hands roaming over Tim's smooth shoulders and back, Ronnie let her head fall back, exposing her smooth, white throat. Tim took the invitation and lowered her slightly so he could nuzzle her neck. Holding her easily with her feet inches off the floor, Tim licked Ronnie's pulse points and nibbled at the tender spot where her neck joined her shoulder. “You taste so good,” he moaned.

He set her down gently and continued kissing her neck and shoulders. Soon neither of them could stand, so they quickly removed their jeans and underwear and stretched out on the sofa. “This feels so strange,” Ronnie said, rubbing her back against the rough texture of the sofa's fabric. “It's actually erotic.”

Tim rubbed his arms over the material. “I'll never think about this sofa the same way.”

“I want you, you know.” Not giving the flash of panic she saw a chance to blossom, Ronnie reached for Tim's already-hard cock. She unwrapped the condom she had dropped on the table earlier and slowly unrolled it onto Tim's hard cock. “Cold?”

“Yes,” he said. “And very exciting.”

“Let me share it.” She rubbed the end of his cold, wet prick over her wet pussy. “Ummm, it is cold. And I'm so hot for you.” She positioned his erection between her inner lips and arched her back. His cock drove into her. “Hold still and let me,” she said, squeezing her vaginal muscles and watching the pleasure clearly visible on Tim's face.

She turned and pushed him back so his head rested against the back of the sofa and he was half sitting and half lying. “Hold still and just feel.” She sat on his lap and impaled herself on his shaft. She used her thighs to raise her body, then drop, over and over, altering the speed and depth to suit her desires.

“Oh Lord,” he moaned. “I'm going to shoot.”

“Not yet,” Ronnie said as orgasm built deep within her. “Hold completely still and feel, but don't come.” When she felt him twist, she snapped. “Don't move and don't come!” He opened his eyes and stared at her. Slowly a smile spread over his face and he nodded.

She settled in his lap barely moving, his cock deep inside of her. “I'm going to come and I want you to share it.” She took Tim's hand and touched her clit. Waves of pleasure started at her toes and deep in her belly and washed over her body ending in her pussy. “Feel,” she yelled.