One Night In Amsterdam (9 page)

Upon hearing her confirmation, all hell broke loose in me. I was completely taken by lust. I unclasped her bra and gazed into her tantalizing green eyes. They were enticing, inviting me to the place above the clouds where all worldly matters disappeared, only the sweet sensations, a blissful state of mind existed.

I slowly lowered my face and flicked my tongue across the two pinky rosebuds hardening instantly with my touch as she ran her fingers through my hair. I took one rosy nipple in my mouth and starting sucking eagerly while I circled the other one with my thumb. How was it possible for someone to taste this sweet? Emma’s soft skin tasted like sweet peaches. I knew I was going to be addicted to that taste right away. I cupped her perfectly round breasts and caressed them gently as I moved down, kissing below her navel.  I slowly dipped the tip of my tongue in her bellybutton and the heat of her skin transferred to my lips instantly.

I lowered my head further, blowing cool air over her sensitive skin and heard her moans of pleasure. I brushed my hand over her lacy panties and then slipped my index finger slowly under the thin fabric. I teased her gently and watched her squirm under my touch, my warm breath seeping through the thin fabric. Her legs were already wobbly; she grabbed my shoulders to be steady. “Oh, God…” She mumbled softly.

I hooked another finger under her panties and tugged it off. I kissed her silky white skin of her inner thighs while I grazed both my fingers over her hot and wet spot. I nuzzled my face over intimately, demanding her to spread herself to give me access. Abruptly she tensed and closed her legs. I looked at her eyes beseechingly as I caressed her thighs to make her relax.

“Relax, Emma. Just let me…” I whispered.

“I…I …” She stuttered. “I haven’t had sex for a long time.”

“Don’t worry, leave everything to me,” I assured her.  Then, I lifted her up and carried her to the bed in my arms. Lying on the bed, her slim fingers over her belly and her silky hair cast over her breast, she looked like the Venus in Boticelli’s famous painting.

“Spread your legs Emma, and don’t be shy. Tell me what you want.” I demanded.

Her eyes darted up and met mine. She pursed her lips, but did not utter a word. She moved her eyes away before complying with my order. She parted her legs, but only a little bit.

“Not enough,” I said smilingly and then I kneeled between her legs, separating them further with my knees to give myself the complete access. I patted her gently with my fingers and watched her tremble in pleasure. I knew what she craved for, and I was determined to give it her. I slipped one finger inside of her, touched her gently, my thumb grazing over her curls. I bowed my head and took her nipple into my mouth, sucking and licking her senseless as I eased my fingers in and out. Her eyes closed, she was biting her lips, inhaling long deep breaths. She gave herself to me completely, pressing her hips upward, moving them to the rhythm of my fingers. I could see she was getting close but I wanted her to reach her climax slowly, so I slowed my strokes. Her breathing quickened, and her eyelids slammed shut as I twirled my tongue around her wetness and sucked her hard. Soon, her body stiffened, and then shuddered in pleasure. “Oh, God! Dylan!” She cried out when I touched her one last time with my finger.

She was completely drained after she came down from her climax. I held her in my arms as she continued to shiver, her heart throbbing fast.  Her breathing slowly became steady again, and she managed to utter. “Thank you!”

“Why are you thanking me?

“Because, I received this incredible pleasure while you didn’t get anything…”

“Believe me Emma. It was my pleasure too.  Watching you climax is a beautiful view.” I confessed, smiling blissfully.

Her cheeks blushed completely red. She sat on the bed, looked softly into my eyes, then reached for the buttons of my shirt. “Aren’t you a bid overdressed?” She asked friskily, and started unbuttoning my shirt. She grazed her hands over my chest, threading her fingers through my chest hair. She smoothened the hair with her palm, and leaned in to kiss me.

When her lips touched and swirled around my nipples, I felt a jolt going up through my body and down my legs. Her hands trailed lightly around my abs, placing soft kisses, and she pulled down the zipper of my pants. Her hand caressing me over my pants was torture. Her eyes feral, she licked her lips and looked at me tantalizingly. Not a second too late, she freed me of my pants and boxers. Her slender fingers skillfully brushed against my hardness. And oh, so unexpectedly, she took me into her mouth. Continuing with her soft but claiming touch, she stroked me gently as she licked my tip and then sucked hard. Her soft wet lips were my undoing. I knew I wasn’t going to last any longer if she continued her sweet torture, and I didn’t want that to happen. “Oh, God, Emma! Please stop…”

“But … why?” She asked innocently, looking confused. “You didn’t like it?”

“Hell no! I love it. But I wanted to be in you when I come. If you kept that up, I wasn’t going to last long.” I confessed, and “wait here a second,” I added.

I opened the side drawer and pulled a condom out. I ripped it open quickly and was about to put it on myself when she said, “Let me do it!” She rolled to condom on me slowly as if she was daring me to be patient.

“God, Emma, you’re killing me,” I managed to say through my clenched teeth.

I kneeled between her legs. I stroked her with my fingers just to be sure she was still wet before I eased myself into her, slowly, one inch at a time. And Oh! My! God! She felt so good. She was so tight but also so wet. She wrapped her legs around me; her green eyes on me, watching me carefully.

“I’m going to move now, Emma. Tell me how you like it.”

I started to move, stroked her gently, trying to assess her reaction and waiting for her to respond. She moaned, but shook her head, turning her eyes away from me like a shy girl. I was waiting for that blunt girl that didn’t mind speaking her mind to declare what she liked in bed.

“Tell me Emma,” I whispered in her ear. I circled her nipples with my thumb and my lips under her ear, sucking her lobe. “Slow or fast…” I asked, as I continued slowly.

“Goddamnit, Dylan! I want it hard and I want it fast!” She finally declared.

And with that, I slammed into her hard and she jolted with pleasure. She bit her lips and smiled at me enticingly. I drew back a little before I thrust my hips steadily inside her.  She met my thrust with same excitement and with each thrust I was climbing the ladder of passion like never before. “Oh, God! This feels so good.” I screamed.

“Oh, please Dylan. Faster!” She demanded. The intensity of her voice matched the intensity in her eyes.  Her hands were on my back… on my shoulder. Everywhere… digging into my skin. Hard! Her fingers tightened on my hips and a delicious sensation passed through me.

I lifted her legs up to my shoulder to penetrate her deeper. With each stroke, she squirmed more in pleasure. I kissed her ankles as I kept going. Going in hard and fast but easing out slow. I could see she was getting close, so I had to hold up a bit longer. After couple more deep strokes, she almost gave in. Her hands clenched into my waist, and her fingers dug deep into my flesh as she climbed higher. I eased in and out, and soon enough she bit her lips, her eyes grew wide and she cried out with pleasure. And only a few seconds later, “Oh. Fuck! Yes!”  I screamed out loud and collapsed on to her as I found my release and shuddered with overwhelming sensation.

That was mind blowing sex. The best sex of my life, indeed…

CHAPTER 7

EMMA

My heart was throbbing fast, about to come out of its cage. Dylan caressed my cheeks with the tip of his fingers, buried his face between my hair and my neck, and gave me small kisses. I didn’t remember feeling this great. Ever! Did sex always feel this good? Or was it this amazing, mind blowing and wonderful all because of Dylan?

Truth be told, I didn’t have much to compare it to. I had had two serious relationships before; my high school sweetheart, Justin, and Kyle, my charismatic teaching assistant at Columbia, whom I dated for three years and I broke up with after I caught him cheating two years ago. I broke off our engagement, moved out of our apartment in Manhattan and moved into my grandparent’s old house in Brooklyn.  It took over a year to put my heart back together after Kyle recklessly ripped it apart.  Why did I fall for an attending? I still had to see him every day, either at the hospital or at the school which made me feel so uncomfortable. Sydney assured me many times that he was just an asshole and not all men were as despicable as him, but I didn’t allow myself to be close to anyone after him. It was my choice. A wise decision that worked just fine for the last two years. But not today.

Today, I met Dylan and everything suddenly changed. He was a fascinating person with the soul of a romantic hidden under his rich and arrogant businessman look. I bet he didn’t let many people see that side of him, the side that enthralled me so much that all my walls fell to the ground with one kiss. My defense mechanism became functionless. Even now, lying next to me, I couldn’t stop staring into his deep blue eyes. His unwavering, intense gaze was making me drift far away from reality. Being in his big arms was so enticing but also very relaxing. How was it possible to feel like I was in a safe haven and turbulent stormy seas at the same time? I felt confused, scared, but happy.

“Penny for your thoughts.” He said, breaking our comfortable silence.

“Oh, it’s nothing…” I lied. I didn’t want to share my mixed feelings.

“You look so beautiful.” He said and twirled a strand of my hair around his finger. “You glow like a diamond. So precious.”

I couldn’t hide my blush. “Well, then… how about you prove your talent now, and draw me as you promised earlier. Let’s see if you can capture my glow with your pencil.”

“You mean you want me to draw you now, like this?”

“Yes.” I smirked and squinted at him.

“You would like me to draw you nude.” He repeated with a bewildered face, still not believing what I was asking for.

“Yes, Dylan,” I replied with a big laugh. “You don’t trust yourself that you could do it?”

“No! Not at all. I just…” He stuttered. “Let me think. I suppose I can try. Just remember I am a bit rusty and believe me, it won’t be easy to draw you when you are so gracefully lying there, enticing me to do other things.”

“I will look away and try not to entice you…” I smiled, and said playfully. “Now, tell me where you want me and what kind of pose.”

He stifled a laugh, and was about to make a comment when I interrupted him. “Dylan, come on. No more joking. Are you going to do this or not? I’ll give up on my offer if you are not going to be serious.”

With my last comment his gaze changed, with the solemn expression on his face he gave me a chaste kiss, put on his boxer briefs quickly and got out of the bed.  A minute later, he came back with a brown leather folder. He pulled out a clean white piece of paper, placed a pencil behind his ear and pushed the swivel leather chair in front of the bed.   “Yes… I am ready,” he said with a crooked smile. He placed the paper and the folder on the chair, scooted next to me, pushing the soft white linens aside.

“Hmm,” he mumbled. “Let’s tuck your right arm under your head and put the left on your belly without blocking your beautiful breasts. Then cross your legs, but bring your fine ass a bit forward.” He ordered, helping me with my pose. His faint touches gave me chills each time, but I swallowed a deep breath and tried hard not to show my arousal. I wanted him to draw me, not do other things that he was so good at.

He studied me a long minute before his pencil moved slowly. His face was serious and his eyes were intense. His gaze moved back and forth between my body and the paper. He bit his chiseled lips every so often as he scrawled. His hand was moving on the paper eloquently as if it was dancing. I enjoyed watching him draw with a grave look on his face, as much as I enjoyed posing for him. I felt as if I was Dora Maar for a second. I wondered how she felt when she posed for Picasso for so many of his paintings.  How did it feel to be his lover and his model at the same time? Did she feel as excited as I was feeling every time Dylan lowered his gaze to my breast, my navel and between my legs?

God, what has gotten into me? In less than twelve hours, I changed from a disgruntled and peevish girl into this hippie-like soul. The unusual feelings that Dylan resonated in me scared the hell out of me. ‘Maybe I shouldn’t have let any of it happen…It would have been better if I ignored him when he came out of that door and let him go his way.’ I thought, but my heart told me to enjoy this one night and this wonderful man sitting across from me with the most handsome face.

I was lost in my thoughts when Dylan announced, “I think I am done.”

“Really, you were quick. I thought it would take longer.”

“It has been almost thirty minutes, Emma. I could not make it as a street artist with this speed.”

“Oh, really? I didn’t notice. Can I see it?” I asked.