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Two long time friends have a chance at love, do they take it?
Slipping it back over my shoulders, I let him remove the robe and lay it over the chair-back.
"Lay down across the bed," he directed.
Climbing onto the bed, I lay down with my head at the far edge with my hands crossed beneath my cheek and the tips of my toes hanging off the other end. I was surprised (and a little disappointed?) that he hadn't suggested I take off my clothes. Maybe he really did just want to please me tonight. If so, I could live with that.
He started as always at my neck and after brutalizing it and making me squirm like a tickled teenager, he worked out across my shoulders and from there down onto my biceps. Already I was feeling sleepy and I listened to his soft patter of "This will help" "This will make you feel good" "Feel how tight these muscles are?" and "You feel like a coiled spring ready to explode." I found myself barely able to grunt back answers.
"I love you," I murmured.
"I love you too, Marci," he said softly.
"Call me by my name," I asked.
"I just did," he replied, his fingers digging into my shoulders again.
"I know. I love it when you say my name."
"You are so kookie," he said. He leaned down, moved my hair aside and kissed the back of my neck
"Nummmm," I protested, shivering and squirming away from him. "Stop that!" The slow-burning flame had leapt three feet farther up my fuse. My nipples hardened and vaginal juices wet my panties. My bottom involuntarily clenched in anticipation of what it expected might come later. I was fast losing the battle of feigning indifference to sex.
Returning to my neck, he slowly worked his way down to my shoulder blades and from there to the sides of my ribcage. Though I was pushed out on the sides, he took great care not to touch the sides of my breasts. It was maddening, but I dared not tell him to do otherwise.
"You're beginning to loosen up," he said.
"I feel like melting wax," I replied gratefully.
"Hmm," he said, kneeling back.
I lifted my head. "What are you doing?"
"Thinking about what you just said."
Getting off the bed--
"Hey!" I protested.
--he went to his dresser and opening the top drawer, dug around and came up with a plastic box, which he opened. Inside was a Bic lighter, I knew, and flicking it to life, he went around the room and lit half-a dozen candles.
"I know what you're doing," I said accusingly.
He grinned like a Cheshire cat, but said nothing.
"Don't you turn off those lights," I said warningly.
He turned off the lights.
"Oh, relax," he said, laughing softly. "It doesn't mean I'm going to rape you."
"I know what it means," I protesting. 'You think you're gonna--"
He knelt down beside me and placed his hands at the bottom of my ribcage where they had been before.
"You're not getting any," I grumbled.
"I'm not expecting any," he replied.
For the next five minutes he concentrated on my lower back and the bottom of my ribcage, then he shuttled backwards on the mattress in order to switch his concentration to my thighs and calves. Again, he took pains to stay clear of my private parts. It was so maddening. Did he really intend not to fuck me tonight? My subconscious began teasing me with frustration
And then he put hands on my backside.
"Matthew!" I warned.
Marci! What are you doing?
He removed his hands and put them on his thighs.
Look what you just did, my mind screamed. You asshole!
I lay still, and waited until he put his hands back on my bottom again. I clenched and he began to knead with his strong hands and suddenly my rear end was coming off the bed of its own accord, exactly as a cat's will do when rubbed.
I groaned. "Don't, Matthew, please."
At the same time I spoke my rear end continued to rise and Matthew released my buttocks and clasped the waistband of my pajama bottoms at either hip and pulled them down to my knees.