Chapter 13

The women at the magazine were in an absolute tizzy. No one came right out and said it, but Stacy could tell by the tone of their comments they all wondered how she had managed to snag the hunky football player. Kurt showed up every day for a week to check out her desk and see whatever new gift she might be displaying. His efforts to rekindle whatever had been going on between them actually made her laugh. What had she ever seen in him, anyway? She'd taken great pleasure in brushing him off with a smile, turning down every invitation until he finally gave up, only doing it with very bad grace.

The whole whatever-this-was with Max gave her a sense of power she'd never enjoyed before. Amazing that a man who could have nearly any woman he wanted chose her. And if she could believe him, he did it because he really wanted to be much more than friends. Had hidden that desire all this time.

If she could believe him.

She couldn't help harboring that secret fear he'd wake up one morning, realize his so-called campaign had all been a mistake on his part, and decide to hook up with a woman more like those she was used to seeing him with. No matter how many times Max told her how he felt, she couldn't make the tiny insect of fear disappear.

It didn't, however, keep her from enjoying the wild ride. She couldn't believe how ravenous for her he was the minute she'd walked in the door tonight. Before she could say hello, he had her up against the door, her slacks and panties off, his cock sheathed and inside her. It seemed to take only seconds before they climaxed together in a detonation of desire.

Hunger for her body temporarily satisfied, he stripped them both out of their clothes and fed her wine and finger foods on a thick quilt in front of the fireplace.

"I never knew how much fun getting ready for Valentine's Day could be." Stacy grinned, lying naked on the smooth fabric.

"We're going to have even more fun in a minute." He lowered one eyelid as he moved lithely to his feet and headed for the kitchen.

She watched the flex of muscles in his naked ass as he walked, her mouth watering as she remembered how it felt when she clutched at him during a climax.

"What do you have in mind?" she called out.

"You'll see."

Then he returned, and her eyes widened as she saw what he held—a bowl of chocolate frosting and a spatula.

"Planning to put that on something?" she asked.

"Uh huh." He knelt beside her. "You." He gently applied the first stroke. "I warmed it a little in the microwave first. I read it makes it spread more easily."

She cocked an eyebrow. "You've been studying about applying frosting to bodies?"

"You won't believe what you can find on the World Wide Web." He chuckled. "All you have to do lie quietly. I'm an artist painting a canvas."

She struggled to be still as he covered her body one small area at a time, working slowly, stopping to tease her nipples with the spatula. Urging her legs apart, he applied the confection to her legs, along the insides of her thighs, down to her ankles. When he reached her pussy, he used his finger, spreading a thin coating over her sensitized skin. When he swirled a drop of it around her clit, she had to grit her teeth to keep from moving or squeezing her legs together.

At last he finished, but then the real torture began. So slowly she thought she'd scream in frustration, he began to lick every inch of the frosting from her body. The touch of his tongue was so completely erotic that in seconds her cunt was so wet she could smell her own scent.

Apparently, so could Max. He lifted his head and inhaled, then grabbed one of her hands and wrapped her fingers around his cock. She was amazed at how quickly it had become hard and thick again.

"Does it ever get tired?" she giggled.

"Not much when you're around. Now, hush and let me finish."

He took his time licking around her nipples, dragging his tongue across the beaded tips before closing his lips and sucking the remaining icing from them. He grazed the sensitive skin with his teeth before lapping at the confection covering her breasts. By the time he worked his way down her stomach to her cunt, she was begging him to hurry. To just do it!

"Uh uh uh. A good project takes time. Lots of time. Be patient."

"I'll 'be patient' you. Wait till it's your turn, though."

A hot flame flickered in his eyes. "I look forward to it."

Then he went back to work, laving her pussy with slow, deliberate strokes, tracing teasing lines around her clit, and rimming her opening.

"Delicious," he murmured, thrusting his educated tongue inside her. "Better than anything I've ever tasted."

"Please," she begged, lifting her hips to him.

"Please what?" He closed his lips around the bundle of nerves in her slit.

"Please make me come." Every nerve in her body crackled with heat, her pulse thudded like a base drum, and her inner walls pulsated. Deep inside her, the thread of a climax unwound like a taut spool of thread.

"Please, Max, make me come," he said, watching her avidly.

"Please, Max, make me come! Yes. You. Max. Oh, God, please, please, please."

And then he gave her what she wanted. Pushing three fingers into her well-lubricated channel, he locked his mouth around her clit again and drove her up and over the cliff.

Long afterwards, when Stacy finally regained her breath and some of her strength, she let Max carry her into his large shower and prop her against the cool tile of the wall. They stood there, letting the soft spray from multiple rainheads wash away the traces of their most recent erotic adventure.

Max rested his hands on her shoulders and took her mouth in a soft, gentle kiss. She pressed her body to his and immediately felt the heated thickness of his shaft imprinting itself on her.

"You didn't get to, you know, come yet," she pointed out.

One corner of his mouth turned up in a quirky grin. "I saved the best for last."

"Well, since you seem to have such great recuperative powers, I think you deserve to have a little treat and still save the best for later."

She dropped to her knees and took him in her hand, rubbing her thumb over the soft velvet of the head.

"Stacy," he began, reaching down and trying to urge her to her feet.

She shook her head. "Nope. My turn. Now it's your turn to relax and enjoy it."

She heard the hiss of his breath as she took the length of him in her mouth and closed her lips over him, sliding them down to the root then back up to the top. The plump head had already darkened with the rush of blood and even the shower spray couldn't wash away the thick precum on the slit. Lapping it greedily, she swallowed then licked the traces of it from her lips.

"Jesus, Stacy," he breathed, his hands tight on her shoulders. "Your tongue is a lethal weapon."

She laughed as she took all of him inside again, barely managing to find room to ease her tongue over the satiny skin. Gripping the base of the shaft, she rolled up and down the length of him, slowly at first, then faster. The rough edge of his breath blended with the fine misting sound of the shower in an erotic symphony that impelled her to move faster and faster.

He groaned as she worked him, hardening against her touch. She tilted her head back to take him even deeper and reached between his thighs to cup his balls in the palm of her hand. Sensitive to the signals of his body, she knew when he hovered on the edge and squeezed his sac with enough pressure to push him past the tipping point.

"Damn, damn, damn!" His voice echoed off the tile walls.

His long fingers gripped her head, holding it in place as his release roared up from inside him and he spurted into the well of her mouth. He came and came, his body jerking with each eruption. Stacy worked him with her lips and her hands until she'd wrung the last drop from him. Then she let his shaft slide free and sat back on her heels, her lips curved in a smile.

Max leaned weakly against the shower wall, stroking her wet hair.

"I thought you might give me a heart attack," he said.

"No more than all that chocolate," she told him.

"Speaking of which."

He urged her to her feet, took the bottle of liquid soap from the built-in shelf, and poured a generous amount in his hands.

"My turn again," he told her.

Very deliberately and sensuously, he proceeded to soap every inch of her body, checking every crevice for remnants of the frosting, even places like the cleft between the cheeks of her ass where he hadn't applied the creamy confection at all. By the time he finished, she was thoroughly aroused all over again, and by the looks of him, so was Max.

"Hold tight, sugar," he crooned as he rinsed her off.

Sliding open the shower door he reached out for a drawer in the vanity and yanked out one of the condoms Stacy had learned he kept there. In seconds, he sheathed himself. Lifting her in his strong, athlete's arms, he guided her onto the head of his cock and slowly lowered her into position. Pressing her against the wall of the shower, he took her fast and hard, his fingers digging into her hips as he held her steady.

They climaxed together, shuddering in the wet mist of the shower, hearts pounding, lungs dragging in air. They stood there, arms wrapped around each other, water sluicing over them, until Max finally eased himself from her body and stripped off the condom.

"I think we need to recharge our batteries a little." He touched his mouth to hers briefly.

"No kidding," she told him in an unsteady voice.

She laughed when she saw the towels he had ready for them were red with hearts on them.

"I can't believe it. That is so not you."

"Yeah, it is." He kissed the tip of her nose. "At least with you. I want to guarantee you a Valentine's Day with all the trimmings."

"You're doing a great job so far," she told him.

"The best is yet to come." He wrapped her in one of the towels and lifted her in his arms. "Come on. I think we need to rest a little, don't you?"