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Sabrina's New Love

Tags: romance, love, new
It's the seemingly small things men do that show their commitment.
The smells of his apartment lingered in my mind long after I left. Scented candles, fresh coffee from the kitchen, and the distinctly masculine scent of his bed. I enjoyed laying on his bed in the morning. Naked beneath his sheets, I studied the painting near the bed. A rich, deep floral painting that added to the warmth and sensuality of his room. He had a small studio, more of one large room really, in an old Victorian house. He filled it with warm blue tones and rich gold accents. Several lush ivy plants sat near the window to enjoy the light. Decor just as tasteful and sexy as himself. On a window sill was an old black and white postcard of a couple locked in a romantic embrace. a beautiful, passionate kiss. On the back of the postcard names and phone numbers were scribbled in his neat, male handwriting. Everyone who was important to him was on that card, he told me.

I new my name and number still resided on a scrap of paper from our first meeting at the bookstore nearly four weeks ago, and I wondered if I'd ever be added to his postcard list.

He'd been taking me out on Tuesday and Friday nights. Dinner and sometimes a movie or a play. Our romance was new and our feelings for each other, though strong, were still blossoming and uncertain. I delighted in the small touches and smiles he would give me over dinner. We would sneak kisses in the theater, his tongue gently flicking the corner of my mouth, making me hungry with desire.

One night after a movie, we returned to his place for drinks, though I was secretly hoping for more. The tone of his voice as he talked about the film sent chills up my spine, and the conversation soon drifted near to silence. I could hear his breathing as he stared reflectively at the ivy closest to the futon. Then he moved toward me.

He suddenly reached over and pinched my nipple beneath my blouse. The surprise made me gasp. He did it ever so slightly, watching my reaction as my nipple grew hard. He pinched harder, rolling the nub beneath his thumb and forefinger. Slowly unbuttoning my blouse with his other hand, he pushed it off my shoulders and kissed the curve of my neck, maintaining the pressure on my nipple.

His boldness turned me on and made me flush. I traced the line of his jaw as he slid his hand to my other breast. Holding them firmly together, he sucked them through my lacy bra. I felt the heat rise in my panties. Moaning softly, I asked him to do it harder.

Biting a pert nipple for a moment, he let go of my tingling breasts and hiked up my skirt. I closed my eyes as he massaged my thighs with his strong hands, his finger teasing me against my panties. He toyed with my clitoris, rubbing my nether lips until I opened to him. Imagining his skin against mine, my breath grew short as he inched lower, spreading my legs apart.

He moved his face closer to my hot mound. Opening my eyes, I watched as he buried his tongue deep inside me. I clenched the edge of the futon as my quivering legs wrapped around him. Soft moans from deep within my throat became yelps as he lapped diligently at my womanly folds until my swollen clit was worked to a fever pitch. It was all my body could do to hold back the orgasm as his tongue petted, poked and rubbed all my sensitive spots. He licked me with long strokes and I came hard, crying out with intense delight.

His skin felt smooth as I ran my hands down his shoulders. he held my wrist and stared into my eyes, his pupils dark and deep in the light from the candles. The flames made flickering shadows on the wall and my libido burned.

Lifting me to stand with his muscular arms, he helped me remove the rest of my clothes as I undressed him. Without a word, he turned me and pressed my stomach to the futon. I felt the softness of his sheets against my skin, and smelled his masculine scent on the pillows. Caressing my back, shoulders and neck, my lover sent chills down to my awaiting groin. Pushing against my tail bone, he spread my voluptuous buttocks and used the tip of his tongue to moisten my swollen outer lips. As he gently licked around the opening, I tingled and let out gasps of pleasure.

Looking at the wall, my mind lurched with intense desire from the pleasure of his tongue and finger. I tried to focus on a light socket and extension cord as he worked in another finger. My gaze stopped on a leaf, fallen from an ivy plant and a moan escaped me.

Reaching back, I fondled his delicious penis and plum sized balls. He was already hard, his breath short in my ear. Taking his finger from inside me, he pressed the head of his cock against my opening, holding me firmly by the hips, pushing until my flesh gave way, allowing him into my depths.

His hands gripped my shoulders and bosom as he moved against me, pressing deeper into me. Thinking I would go insane with pleasure, I focused on the ivy leaf. Its edges were slightly brown, and it moved with the motion of the futon.

The leaf slipped from my thoughts as I gasped in the rhythm of his exquisite thrusting. I met his thrusts with my own, bucking my ass against him. Images from his room flashed through my mind and I saw the deep, sensual colors of the floral painting. My ears rang with a high pitched sound, as my handsome new lover brought me to the brink of ecstasy, promising that an explosive climax was near at hand. My limbs tingled as I came, the muscles of sex wrapping tightly around his cock.

He moaned as his pleasure grew, my wetness now abundant on his slippery cock. Holding on for just a few more strokes, he pulled out, his hot cream shooting forth. His body still quivering, he rubbed his plentiful load onto my supple ass.

I thought about the passion I had just experienced, and with the dawn yet to come, I climbed into his bed. Naked beneath his sheets, I studied the painting near the bed, remembering how sensual it had looked as I came and how he felt inside me. He watched me for a moment and walked across the room. I heard his pen scratching my name and number on the back of his postcard.

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