A Taste of Pleasure

To all those who have loved and lost, and dared to love again.

TOUCH ME

by Antoinette

Her lips brush his cheek, air full of words and requests.

His body leans toward hers as they move in the dance of love.

Will he be the one?
she asks herself with reserve.

So many have tried to win her heart, a heart lonely and unloved.

Her body reaching out for another taste . . . another touch . . .

she is living through another day of life.

Open the pages and feast on her fantasies . . .

L
ove is worth waiting for
are among the words of wisdom that were a part of London Shelby's inheritance from her grandmother. That thought occurred as she leafed through a scrapbook while sitting on an antique fainting couch in Château d'Amour, an heirloom-filled home that Catherine Shelby had bequeathed to the grandchild she'd raised.

London had a day off from work in a law firm and was intent on spring cleaning her attic. She made herself a breakfast of a jelly-filled croissant and fruit, which she took to the attic with her. She plucked the grapes from the bowl and sucked each one into her mouth. Then she took a bite from the croissant, licking the overflow of jelly that trickled down her hand, then pondering how she would sort through good and bad souvenirs of the past to clear her way forward.

London had come to live with her grandmother at the age of ten in the aftermath of a car accident that killed her parents. She inherited the château at the age of twenty-four when her grandmother passed away. Catherine was a special and generous woman who not only left her granddaughter a few million dollars and a great home, but also a priceless journal
titled
Life Lessons
that she hoped would help London to lead a fulfilled and independent life. Among London's favorites of her grandmother's words was “pleasure without pressure.”

London was raised to enjoy life, but also to value an education and the virtues of hard work. She earned a degree from New York University while she was a member of Kappa Kappa Delta sorority, and she made friends easily. She came across a photo of her two best friends, Jen Gibson and Laura McCarthy. She wiped her hands on a wet cloth and traced their silhouette with her fingers. She had lost touch with Laura after they graduated, but Jen remained close to her. She turned the page and found a valentine from her first love—Deacon Wayne. A lacy white heart with such warm words it brought tears to her eyes as she read, “You're deeply in my
heart
this day, where you will always stay.” She took it out of the scrapbook and held it in her hands, pulling it to her chest, reflecting when she met him ten years ago.

She was seventeen years old when she met Deacon in the College Ice Cream parlor. He took her heart away at first glance. He was a freshman in college and she felt so grown-up as he asked her if he might sit down. She lowered her eyes as she said, “Yes.”

“I am Deacon Wayne,” he said as he held out his hand for hers. She touched him and felt a tingle all the way to the floor.

“I am London Shelby.”

“So, London, what brings you here?”

“I am filling out my application to the university and picking out classes,” she said as she continued to leaf through the catalogue, her hands shaking with excitement as she looked up into his dark brown eyes. He was so handsome, she could hardly contain herself.

“What brings you here?” she asked.

“I attend the university here and stop by for a hot fudge charge once in a while. I can help you if you wish. What field are you planning on going into?” he asked.

“I would like to be a paralegal,” she nervously responded.

“Well then I can help you. I am a second-year law student. You must take Professor Robinson's class; he is terrific.” She smiled at his suggestion and let the pages fall as she searched for his class. “There it is.” He placed his manicured finger on the class and smiled. “Well, London, I need to run, hope we run into each other again, nice meeting you,” he said as he spun around and left. A faint whisper of his cologne lingered. She inhaled deeply as she sighed, watching him walk down the brick sidewalk.

They would bump into each other often and she found herself going to the parlor just to see him. They had many conversations and she was very taken by him, plus the fact that he was studying law made him even more interesting. She also felt a dying urge to ravish his body. After several talks, he asked her out on a date, which she accepted, and they went to a movie. He held her hand. She was in heaven. When he took her home, he kissed her at the door and she floated into the house. The feeling she had for him had grown deeply and she told Grams how she felt. “Well, my dear, you're approaching the most wonderful time of your life. You're a beautiful girl and you're going to have many lovers, I am sure, so don't get all hung up on the first one. You're too young.” But London knew better. Deacon was for her and her alone. When he asked her to go to his family's cabin to celebrate Valentine's Day she felt he was going to ask her to go steady. “I'll pick you up Friday night around seven. We should be at the cabin by nine.”

“Okay.”

“Pack lightly and bring a warm sweater and coat; nights in the mountains are a bit cold.”

“Okay, see you tomorrow night, bye.” She was awake most of the night, thinking about Deacon and what was about to happen. She rubbed her hands over her body, feeling the curves and the fullness of her breasts. Her nipples, which stood proud and waiting for his lips. Her hands moved down as she opened her legs and her fingers felt wetness.

The next morning she told Grams that she was going to spend the weekend with Deacon, and Grams looked concerned. “My dear, are you sure you want to be with him intimately?”

“Yes, I am. I want him to be my first.” Her grandmother came over and held her head in her arms. “It is your choice, my dear. Just hold on to your heart. I will be here if you need me.” London ate a small breakfast. Her stomach felt like it was in her throat. She thought about tonight and the fact that she would be with Deacon for two days. The day in school dragged by and finally it was time for her to go home and finish packing. When she got home, Grams had put a lovely cream satin nightgown on her bed with matching sheer negligee and satin slippers with a note. “I won't be home when you get here, but I wish you a wonderful weekend.” London took the items and held them up to her, spinning around. She could smell her grams's cologne on them. She carefully packed them in her suitcase and felt butterflies in her tummy. She showered and dressed. She heard the buzz of the front gate and watched Deacon drive down the driveway that led behind the château. He came to the door as she opened it, gathered her in his arms, and kissed her. That was all she remembered until they pulled into the parking space behind the cabin in the Adirondack Mountains. He opened the car door and
helped her up the stairs to the front door, where he carried her over the threshold, kissing her as he placed her feet on the floor. He showed her around the log cabin, holding her hand and bending down to kiss her more, and then they unpacked. He walked her into the bathroom where there was a hot tub. Deacon felt she would be less embarrassed covered by water than standing nude in a shower. He tenderly kissed her more as she whispered, “Oh, Deacon, I have dreamed of this day.” He smiled as he helped her undress. She had on blue jeans and a white wool sweater. His hands massaged her body, and he held her close as he kissed her neck and face. When her bra fell on the floor his lips touched her swollen nipples, and her head flew back as she moaned. He covered her with a towel until she was under the water. Then he sat across from her and extended his feet toward her and magically touched her body while skimming her private parts with his toes. He then moved toward her and took a nipple and sucked on it as his hands moved farther down. She opened her legs to a new touch and moaned as the surge of water touched her virgin parts followed by his talented fingers. “Are you ready, baby?” he whispered as he rubbed her shoulders and kissed her neck. “Yes,” she said. She stood up as he wrapped her in a fluffy white terry cloth robe and handed her a glass of champagne, helping her to the bedroom. When he kissed her again, his tongue slid into her mouth and a new sensual world opened up. He led her to the bed, where he kissed her lips and neck and sucked on her nipples. He massaged her body as his lips followed his fingers down to her passion zone. He took one finger and slid it between her legs and touched her button. She moaned and squirmed, then he opened her legs farther, his body fell on top of hers, and he kissed her again. “Are you okay?” he asked.

“Yes, oh yes,” she answered, her mind dazed with passion
and champagne. He pushed into her. She felt a burning sensation and then fullness. He filled her every desire and even more. After he made love to her, he held her in his arms as she toyed with his chest hair. They made love over and over as they feasted on each other. They got up and enjoyed wonderful barbequed hamburgers, ribs, potatoes, and chips, then back to the hot tub and more sex. On Valentine's Day he had pizza delivered. It was in the shape of a valentine, and he handed her a special white one. “Oh, Deacon, this is so beautiful. I will keep it forever.” She snuggled next to him as he drove her home. After the weekend together, she heard from him frequently. The connection they had stayed intimate and wonderful. The conversations were mostly about the passionate time at the cabin, then, turned on by the memories, they would meet and have a quickie in the backseat of the car. “I can't believe how beautiful you are,” he said many times when they were together, and she would blush and reply, “Thanks, I enjoy you too.”

After several months one special conversation played back in her mind over and over again. “London, I have something to tell you. There is someone else in my life. She is in college with me and we are in the same class. We have been studying together and getting very close. I hope you understand, our families are friends and have been encouraging us to get together. I think we might. Even though I don't feel the same about her as I do you, it is for the best, I guess.” London felt her eyes fill with tears as she placed the phone on the hook and fell crying on the bed. Her grams was walking by the room and heard her. “May I come in? Looks like you need a friend.”

“Oh, Grams, I did what you told me not to do. I gave my heart away.” Her grams held her close and let her cry, then they went downstairs and ate a huge bowl of ice cream drizzled with chocolate sauce and whipped cream oozing over the sides of
the bowl. “London, pleasure without pressure is my motto. I have lived that way since your grandfather passed and it is the only way for me to protect my heart. Sex is just that . . . sex. It is the lust one person has for another. When the lust leaves, so do the feelings. However, love never leaves. It lingers through the good times and the bad. It gives you strength to get through what you felt you could never get through. Lust leaves at the first sign of trouble. When you find the right person, you won't ever have to say good-bye.”

London looked up at her grams and smiled. “I have found that person, but he has another.”

“If it is real, he will be back in time.”

London smiled and then her mind came back to the present day.

She felt that strange feeling in her tummy for some ice cream. She smiled and left the attic. Took some things with her and placed the valentine in her purse, having gone through enough memories for one day. She hadn't counted on the task of cleaning out clutter in her life to be so emotional. For the most part she was a happy-go-lucky woman who lived life on her own terms. She worked, because she wanted, not needed to. She loved—or rather lusted for—when and whom she wanted to since lust was sometimes the best medicine to use when life got painful.