Marital Affair (2 page)

She stopped.

Good
sign
.

Gazed over her shoulder.

Better sign.

Eyelashes fluttered.

Lord have mercy.

Raised her arm.

Oh God, here it comes.

Crooked her finger and motioned for him to
follow.

Dutifully falling under her wicked spell, he
swallowed hard and followed her behind a grove of oak trees. A
woolen blanket lay spread over the ground, beneath a canopy of
branches. She sat and plucked a pear from a basket.

White teeth sank into the delicate flesh of
the life-giving nourishment. Her neck arched backward and her
eyelids closed as she made love to the fruit with her mouth. Juices
ran down her chin and he knew it was her invitation to taste her,
lick the sweet nectar from her skin.

His breathing rapid and heart pounding, he
dropped to his knees and crawled to the meadow lover. Hazel eyes
beckoned him closer, giving him permission to share her secret
space, hidden away from the world. His fingers itched to touch her,
but he had to wait for that privilege.

Knots gripped his stomach when he reached
her, his hands placed on the blanket, cock-achingly close to her
hips. Closing his eyes, he opened his mouth, licked the nectar from
her chin, careful not to touch her lips or stray to any other inch
of her body.

A sweet moan started at the base of her
alluring neck and escaped from her tantalizing lips. All restraint
fled from his senses and he kissed the visible throb in her neck
that matched the throb in his shaft. She sat still and let him
kiss, rotated her neck until his lips worked on the curve he'd
fantasized about mere minutes ago. Silky smooth skin covered her
goddess body and tasted of fresh spring water.

He couldn't believe he was here, inhaling
her scent of wild flowers and desire; feasting on her flesh that
only increased his need to mate. Sliding his tongue as he went, he
worked his way up her neck to her earlobe.

When he took her soft lobe between his
teeth, she placed her hands on his chest. There was the signal he
could touch. Heat scorched through the layers of his jerkin and
tunic, burnt his skin from her contact. Hot tingles took over his
body. Breathing became almost as hard as his cock.

He wanted to scream out her name.

Dileah, Dileah! Oh God, Dileah!

He wasn't even naked, let alone inside her,
but he knew the rule, no words. He moaned and bit his lip, lest he
slip and never get the chance to love her.

She loosened the strings of his jerkin,
caressed his chest as she pushed the garment over his shoulders
until it fell onto the blanket. Tender hands worked to free his
tunic from his breeches. It was her wish to unclothe her lover and
remove his boots while the chosen lover sat in silence. The pace
was hers to set and if he interrupted it, she might eject him from
her sanctuary. A chance he'd dare not take.

The air grew stifling as she slowly untied
his boots and pulled them off. Then his stockings. She rose to her
knees, taking the hem of his tunic in her delicate hands. Fire
lapped at his sides in the wake of her fingers disrobing him;
leaving only his breeches on. His cock strained at the lack of
attention it'd received so far, but he knew the wait would be worth
every aching second he endured.

She reached into her basket again. He sucked
in his breath as he waited to smell which oil she'd produce; rose,
cinnamon, or the coveted violet scent.

Men speculated that the rose oil was meant
to heighten the experience. It was the least desired oil,
indicating that she didn’t expect their encounter to worthy of her
best. The cinnamon oil meant she wanted to taste the pleasures
about to come and was a compliment to his kisses. But the violet,
the violet meant she'd spared nothing for their encounter. The
extremely treasured scent came at a high price and was the greatest
compliment as to his skill when using his mouth.

She uncorked the small pottery jar and
poured a small amount of oil in the palm of her hand. After rubbing
her hands together, she situated his feet in her lap and began to
massage the soles. Her thumb kneaded his sore arches and he was
assaulted by the smell of violets.

Oh, God of the heavens, have mercy on my
soul.

How much more sweet torture could one
earthly man stand before he'd break; strip her of her garments and
thrust inside?

As if an answer to his prayer, the meadow
lover took his hands in hers and guided them to her bodice. One
small tug of the strings untied the bow. Slowly he loosened the
laces, knowing those heaving mounds of flesh would be freed and
he'd have permission to do as he liked with them.

He slipped her bodice off. Tentatively, he
grazed the top of one breast with his finger tips. She rewarded him
with a shudder and a moan. Sweet melody to his ears. Only a thin
chemise lay between him and her breasts. Without delay, he lightly
gripped the sides of her smooth neck, traced the curves down to her
teasing bare shoulders. He pushed her chemise off, freeing her
glorious round globes.

Large, darkened breasts with pink erect
nipples called to him. He squeezed one, definitely more than a
handful, even for his large hand. Taking his thumb and index
finger, he tugged at her pert nipple, rolled it between his
fingers.

Her eyelids closed and her mouth opened in
pleasure. Warm breath expelled from her lungs and caressed his bare
chest, sending spikes of sensation in every direction from its
point of contact.

Liking her response, he tugged again,
finding the small amount of power over the vixen intoxicating. So
much so, he had to have a taste of her. He kissed her nipple and
soared to new heights when she arched her back to push her breast
closer to his face.

He took her nipple in his mouth, sucked the
rigid peak. She removed his flat cap and released his long chestnut
hair from the thong at the nape of his neck. Her fingers dug into
his hair, pulling him closer.

Encouraged, he continued to suckle one
breast while his hand sought out the other one, tugged at the
nipple. Moaning and panting, she clung to him as he lavished
attention on her magnificent bosom.

The few men who knew her intimately had
talked of her expert lovemaking, but nothing had prepared him for
this. Nor for what was to come. He'd been with a few ladies of the
evening, even a married woman here and there, but they hadn't done
anything close to what Dileah was doing now just from her moans or
what he imagined she would do over the next few minutes.

Short, fast breaths of air landed on his
neck as she tried to push him back. He took one last taste of her,
felt her heart thundering under his lips then released his tight
grip on her. It took everything he had to resist her swollen buds,
but he had to follow her commands.

She took out a jug from her basket.
Anticipation grew in his stomach and worked its way up to wedge in
his throat. His fellow lodge brothers had never mentioned a jug
before. Perhaps their love play parched her. She partook of the
drink, positioned herself inches above his mouth and kissed his
lips. Warm liquid poured from her mouth into his. Wine, made from
the finest grapes, passed between the two of them as their tongues
mated and dance.

No one had ever kissed the meadow lover on
her lips. He was the first one to receive this gift from her. What
could it mean? He really didn't know or care; just took her gift
and kissed her back. Licked her lips of wine, sucked the plump
flesh. He slipped his tongue inside, ran it across her teeth.
Slowly, he licked the length of her soft tongue.

Hard, pert buds rubbed across his chest as
their tongues dueled. Over and over, darting in and out of her
mouth, brushing and sliding his tongue against hers. Her hands dug
back into his hair and he roamed the soft plains of her shoulders,
back, and waist.

She tore loose from his assault on her mouth
and cried out in ecstasy as he squeezed her breasts. His breeches
were tented and he begged her with his eyes to release him from the
stocks she held him in.

Again, he licked and kissed her abundant
globes. He wanted to do more, but he still had to wait for her
permission. As his face moved between her breasts, he kissed. She
guided his hands to her skirt strings.

Oh, fire and damnation.

Never had he gained so much pleasure from
untying a woman's skirt strings as he did Dileah's.

She stood and let him push her skirt down,
his hands caressing her hips until she was clad in only her
chemise. She was a vision of an angel, standing before him. Without
further ado, she slid the angelic garment over the curve of her
womanly belly, down her shapely hips until it fell to the ground,
exposing her long legs.

His eyes traveled to the apex of her thighs.
Blond curls covered her pubic region. He sat on his knees, waiting
for the goddess before him to make her move.

She stepped over her garments and walked to
him, stopping with her stomach inches from his face. His cock
jerked, but he couldn't touch her womanhood, not yet. Not without
her permission.

Sweet Jesus.

Her nether lips glistened with moisture.
Moisture he longed to touch, feel and taste. He licked his lips,
dreaming they were hers. A whimper escaped his throat and his knees
weakened. His legs trembled.

"Shh!" Her lips pouted and made the heavenly
sound.

Urging him to stand, she loosened his
breeches and pulled them down as she fell to her knees. Worked the
fabric over his shaft and left him exposed to her scrutiny.

He watched her lips curve into an alluring
smile as she examined his goods. Without warning, she flicked her
tongue out and licked the base of his shaft to the tip. His cock
jerked when she reached the crease around the head.

Mother of God!

Her tongue was pure velvet, soft and sweet.
She kissed down to the base and licked back up. Opening her mouth
wide, she took the tip and wrapped her swollen lips around it.
Warmth surrounded him, heavenly shivers shot through his legs,
weakening the muscles as they passed. His knees threatened to
buckle. Seeking stability, he dug his hands in her hair and gripped
her head as she worked her magic.

Over and over, she sucked her way down and
back up, trailing her tongue, flicking it from side to side.

The muggy air surrounded them and sweat
formed on his chest. He grabbed a hand full of flaxen locks and
thrust his hips forward, felt the back of her throat with his cock.
Smooth and warm.

She quickened the pace and he felt himself
on the edge of ecstasy. He heard the wet slather slipping up and
down his shaft and recognized the coil in his balls.

He bit his tongue, holding back the
words forming in his mind:
suck me
harder
. Instead of breaking the rules, he moaned,
trying to keep his sanity.

Glorious lips rubbed across his throbbing
flesh. She dug her nails into his buttocks, drawing him closer than
he thought possible. His engorged shaft slid down the top of her
throat and she licked his balls.

Hot flashes overtook his body as he spilled
his seed down her throat. Uncontrollable screams escaped his mouth
in a deep raspy tone he almost didn't recognize.

Trembles took over his legs, dropping him to
his knees before her. Red, puckered lips glistened with his cum. He
watched her lick it away. When she'd partaken of the last drop, she
laid down on the blanket. Her breasts parted and fell to the
sides.

It was his turn to taste of her juices. She
opened her legs to him. Her swollen bud begged to be touched. He
licked his dry lips and forced moisture down his throat.

So wet!

He moved between her legs, grazed feather
kisses from her knee up her thigh to the crease that drew a line
between her leg and paradise. She moaned and wiggled her hips. His
stomach knotted as he parted her nether lips.

Oh, yeah, she's so beautiful.

Tentatively, he licked her rosy bud, making
her buck and moan. Knowing he held the power now, he smiled
inwardly and sucked her clit, tasting her natural juices. The smell
of her desire aroused him and he felt his cock stir.

Who was he kidding? She still held the power
over him with her heavenly cries and curvaceous body. The way she
moved in rhythm with his licks and sucks. Her hips were grinding
her womanhood across his face, hands digging in his hair and
pulling him closer. He'd give her anything she wanted.

He slipped a finger inside.
Tight, Wet and Smooth
. His cock
grew, ready for a second round, as she moved against his finger,
moaning in pleasure. A sound more pleasing than the birds chirping
in the trees.

Looking up at her beautiful flesh, he
watched her. Back positioned in a sensuous curve arching through
the long line of her neck. Eyes draped with the veil of her
luscious lashes. Her lips and mouth sensuously opening and
closing.

Tantalizing torture. God, she's a
vision.

She massaged one breast, lavished attention
on the nipple. His blood pumped through his veins, scorching his
skin. Unable to watch anymore, he nipped at her clit, tugged on it,
sucked. Sweat covered his back and chest as streaks of sun streamed
through the branches and beat down on the woolen blanket.

She screamed, panting and rocking hard
against his mouth. Convulsing around his finger. He licked and
sucked her juices, taking all she offered.

When her body relaxed, he rose to his knees,
licked her womanly taste from his lips. With his eyes, he asked her
for permission to enter her private space.

She arched her brows and offered a slight
nod.

Hovering over her, he slipped the tip of his
cock inside her velvet opening. Burning flames licked at his loins,
burnt up his chest like a fire out of control on a midsummer day.
Her cunny was the hottest, wettest, tightest he'd ever felt.