How they arrived at his home, he didn’t recall very well. He had gone through Katarina’s table game. On one hand, he was so aroused, he could jump over the table, jump upon her, tear her clothes from her body and there, for everybody to see, take her. But a little angel whispered in his ear that this action wouldn’t correspond to the prevailing etiquette of the restaurant.
Jean-Pierre had driven. The ride from The Black Oyster to his home had been a torture. He had to keep his mind on the traffic while Katarina’s hand was resting on his thigh. At a certain moment, she gave a light pressure on his leg, without trying something else. The result was the same. In this difficult position, he hardly couldn’t hide his sexual arousal.
Just inside his home, Katarina threw her arms around his head and kissed him passionately. Her tongue wildly explored his mouth. Almost biting, she gave him kiss after kiss while she kicked her stilettos out and pushed herself close to him. She felt how he reacted to her French kissing. His knee pushed her legs a bit apart to be even closer, and she rubbed herself against him.
When she pulled his shirt open, the buttons came loose and were ticking on the floor. Jean-Pierre took her in her arms and carried her up the stairs to his bedroom. A few other clothing were killed in action on the way to their destination. They fell on the bed together, entwined in each other and panting of desire.
In no time, he had helped Katarina out of her skirt and blouse. With her bra, he had no difficulty. Free of it, her breasts seemed even bigger than he had assumed. He kissed and caressed them. How beautiful she was in the fainted glow of the night-lamp. They were so passionate, in no time the bedcover and the blanket were pushed aside on the ground.
‘Take me, Jean-Pierre, take me,… now, now, now,’ Katarina shouted loudly. He didn’t have to be encouraged and joined her in the most intimate way he knew. They began a passionate dance, one they knew by heart; a rhythm that converged with the beating of the blood in their veins. Jean-Pierre felt himself drowning and surrendered to the cadence. Katarina shouted words in a foreign language. Without understanding, he knew she enjoyed, as much as he did.
First, he came, but a few counts later, Katarina shivered with pleasure and kept him still closer than before, deep inside her for the next moments. Her cheeks were glowing as if she had a fever. With her legs tied to his lower back, she was holding him very near. A few moments without any movement, without any sound. And then she released a deep sigh and him at the same time. Panting, they lay together side by side and enjoyed the afterglow.
‘Mmmm… that was… heavenly!’ Katarina sighed, and she turned herself towards Jean-Pierre and began to caress his belly. She teasingly played with the little hairs below his navel, while drawing circles, lower and lower. She laughed; a sort of gobbling sound that originated from deep in her throat. Katarina knew what she was doing. She wasn’t satisfied yet.
Apparently his body had the same opinion. Now they were gentle lovers, caressing, discovering. They were enjoying each other without withholding. He kissed her on places she liked so much. She licked his earlobe and breathed her warm breath on his neck. Slowly, stretching the feeling, to enjoy more, she led him inside. The rhythm of their movements was slow but intense, and both Katarina as Jean-Pierre tried to lengthen their love play and they succeeded so well in it. But eventually it was over, and they lay exhausted in each others arms.
After a while, Katarina broke the silence. ‘Do you have any free days left, Jean-Pierre?’ A naughty look appeared in her blue eyes. She was leaning on her right elbow and looked rather questioning towards him.
‘Maybe,’ he answered a bit hesitating. ‘Why?’ He too had turned on his side and looked more than attentive as if he would read the answer on her lips.
‘You shall see!’ she mysteriously answered his question.
© Rudi J.P. Lejaeghere 23/11/2014