The Coming of Anna (The Manhattan Series) (2 page)

I
hold his hand and move it down to my clit, whilst widening my legs to give him
easy access. Thomas takes control again by teasing my wet pussy lips, stroking
the left side and then the right side, very gently.

By
now I am so wet that my sweet juices are dripping from deep inside me. His
fingers have easy access inside me, pushing in and out of me.  Even just this
simple movement is giving me so much excitement.

Our
lips are sore and are only torn apart so Thomas can move down between my thighs,
first kissing both my breasts and then my stomach on his way down.

I
am excited; I know what is coming.

I
feel the juices coming from my pussy, dripping down towards my anal entry
door.  Thomas’ tongue moves to my wet clit. He licks my excess juices with his
tongue, every time ensuring he reaches my anal door.  My whole body jerks with
excitement. I want so badly to please him but now he concentrates on just
pleasing me.  He places his tongue inside of me, moving it from side to side. 
Then he moves his tongue up to my clit again, searching for my special spot of
excitement.

He
lifts his head to look at me and say:  “Anna, I thought your mouth was soft,
but your pussy is like velvet. You are so clean shaven and open.”

With
that he runs his tongue back down from my clit across my pussy opening for more
of my juices.  My body quivers as he runs his tongue up and down, in and out,
and then takes his time teasing my clit.  It fuels the fire within me even more.
 I can feel myself getting wetter and wetter, my thighs sticky with my own
excess juices.  I cannot control myself and start to rhythmically rotate my
pelvis to push against his tongue, which is now darting in a horizontal motion
across my clit at a faster rate.  I know the time is near as I start to moan
louder and louder.  The next moment I cum straight into Thomas’ waiting mouth.  

Thomas
lifts himself on his arms and moves his body over mine.  He pushes his dick
into me with one hard movement... we simply do it.

Afterwards
I fall asleep on the couch with his arms around me as the sound of his deep,
peaceful breathing washes over me.

I am sitting in class.  Yesterday,
I was overworked and tense and stressed out.  Today I am relaxed like only a
woman can be who had the enjoyment of having more than one orgasm the night
before. How can I describe it?  It is like standing under a cool waterfall on a
hot day, having no care in the world and having every sign of stress or trouble
washed away from you.

My phone rings and I see his
name and the picture I took of him last night, appear on the screen.  Thomas. 
My heart flutters and I feel a warm glow rising from my feet when I reach to
pick it up.

“Hello?  Anna speaking.” It is
barely a whisper.

“Hello.  Remember me?”

“Thomas!  Of course!  How could
I ever forget you?   How are you this morning?”

“I’m fine.  In fact, I am more
than fine.  I rang your phone earlier but it was switched off.   Then I rang
the school office and they told me you have an interval at 11a.m.  Don’t worry,
I told them I was one of the parents ringing and that I will call back later. 
I think I already know you well enough to know that you will not want to have
your private life flaunted in front of the whole school.”

“You guessed right there.  You
have never seen a gossip machine like this staffroom.  And even these kids take
hold of any morsel of information they have about your private life and turn it
into something for them to talk about in class so they manage to get your focus
off your actual schoolwork.  Thank you for understanding.  I really appreciate
it.”

“Well, Miss Teacher.  I am
calling to ask if this naughty boy can pick you up for dinner tonight.  I was
thinking about that pizza you made us last night and that definitely deserves a
meal at a good restaurant.  Would you prefer Italian or Mexican?  Or do you
like Chinese food more?”

I cannot help but smile about
his reference to the frozen pizza.  It must have been the worst meal ever.  It
was frozen, I prepared it in the hot oven but we ended up having very little of
it.  We were talking too much to really take any notice of the pizza that went
from frozen to hot to cold again.  And when the talking stopped, our hands and
bodies did the talking for us and the hunger within was sated with something
other than food. 

Without realizing he is using
some really good sales tactics on me in not allowing me to say no, I reply: 
“Italian food makes you fat and Chinese make the best take-out.  So I think for
tonight it should be some spicy Mexican.  Or what do you think?”

“Then Mexican it will be, my
sweet lady.  Pick you up at seven.”

It becomes quiet around me as I
hear the line die down.  I can still hear his warm voice in my ear and it
drowns out the noise of the rowdy children outside on the school playground.

Even though I do not normally
go to the staffroom during interval unless there is an impromptu staff meeting,
I had arranged with the office that I will not be in the staffroom today.  I
said I need to catch up on some admin.  Truth be told, I do need to catch up on
some of the marking I did not do last night.  But my mind is not with those
unmarked scripts at all.  I can only see his handsome face in front of me.  I
remember his dark hair with the wayward lock that keeps falling over his
forehead, his brooding dark eyes and the dimple in his chin. 

As the memories of last night
start coming back to me, I can feel myself getting excited again.  I can hear
the beating of my racing heart in my ears.  My hands become sweaty and my
breathing becomes shallow.  I am lying on the couch again with Thomas’ hands
stroking my breasts, my belly and then exploring further to find the moist spot
between my legs. 

I can hear him breathing as his
lips softly stroke my neck and he whispers:  “Anna, you are so beautiful.”

With the memories of all this
flooding over me, my hand reaches down to my wet pussy without me even
realizing it.  My eyes are closed as I lie back in my chair.  The work on the
desk in front of me temporarily forgotten as I remember what he sounded like,
what he felt like, what he smelt like, what he looked like.  I lift my skirt
and my hand reaches inside my panties as if it was him guiding it.  I start
stroking myself.  My fingers softly move in a circular motion over my clit.  As
I get more excited, my fingers press down harder.  I can feel my climax coming
closer...

“Miss, the bell rang.  Open the
door!”

The loud noise of children
knocking on the door and insisting on coming inside, drags me back to reality
in an instant.  Oh damn!  I pull my clothes straight. 

“I am coming!” I holler back at
them.

I can’t help but smile at the
irony of my words when I take a wet wipe from the canister in my desk drawer
and clean my hands.  Yes, your teacher was close to cumming when you knocked at
her door.  I open the door to let my student in.  Let this day go by quickly!

**********

While the students listen to a reading
of their prescribed novel, I stand in the back of the classroom, resting my
head against the wall.  Can this be the same woman who, not so long ago, said
her life revolves around nothing but her two children and her job?  Is it the
same woman who thought that her body would never react to the touch of a man? 

Everything that has been
happening since that knock on my front door last night, feels surreal.  It
feels like I am dreaming.  But it is not that I can’t wake up, I don’t want
to.  I take my phone and look at the picture of Thomas again.  He is real; he
really was there, making love to me last night.  And I will be seeing him again
in only a few hours...

Thomas looks handsome in his
open-collar shirt and long pants.  In his hands he holds a box of chocolates
and a beautiful bouquet of white lilies. 

“Not red roses?” I chuckle.

“No red roses - white St
Joseph’s lilies, the symbol of purity and truth.  Because from the first moment
we met, you shared with me your true self, holding nothing back.”

The way he looks into my eyes
makes me feel like I am melting.  He bends over and our lips touch softly.  We
stand like that for what feels like forever.  Then his mouth opens over mine
and he kisses me deeply. 

Out of breath, I struggle to
say, “Let me just get these into water.  Then we can go.”

I almost run from the door
because I know if he kissed me like that for just a minute longer, we will
never go to the restaurant.  How can I resist this man who has come into my
life barely twenty-four hours ago?  I can hardly function when he is around me,
yet I never feel more focused than when he is within arm’s reach.  Why am I
acting like this?  Why am I feeling this way?

We sit in the close comfort of
his car as he glides through traffic on our way to the restaurant. 

“Can I hold the lady’s hand on
our first date?  I did bring chocolates and flowers, you know.”

I laugh and the conversation
remains light as I lay my hand in his; his other hand on the steering wheel.

The
Chilli Jungle
is a pleasant
surprise.  Other than the name, there is nothing resembling a jungle.  The
tables are set in a cheerful red, black and white theme.  A mariachi band is
playing in the corner.  It makes the atmosphere inside the restaurant cheerful
but at the same time romantic. 

A waiter dressed in a
traditional Mexican outfit leads us to a table in a quiet corner.  The table is
round and I am glad because I do not like sitting across from someone at a
table.  I want to sit next to him so we can have a conversation.  The idea of
being in such close proximity to Thomas all during dinner excites me.  He
orders a jug of Sangria for us to share.  He takes my hand under the table and
our eyes meet - spellbound.

“Now, Miss Lemar, I think it is
time for us to really get to know each other.  You fascinate me.  I could not
stop thinking about you all day.  I want you to tell me everything there is to
know about you – the good, the bad and the ugly.”

We spend the rest of the night
talking.  There is not much we feel that we cannot talk about.  We have shared
so much.  The night we spent together is still fresh in my mind.  At times I
can hardly concentrate on what Thomas is saying to me.  My mind keeps drifting
back to the time we spent in each other’s arms.  I cannot help but remember
each second of passion we shared.

He tells me about his parents. 
His father was a carpenter and his mother a housewife who spent her days caring
for her husband and children.  Thomas is the oldest of five children.  His one
brother died in a car accident at the age of nineteen and that caused Thomas to
determine to live every day to the full.  He adores his other brother and his
two sisters. 

After school he wanted to join
his father in his carpentry business so he could help provide for his mother
and his siblings.  But his parents would not hear of this.  They had carefully
squirreled some money away over the years in order to allow their children to
provide the best future for themselves.  First they had him travel the world to
experience life through the eyes of other cultures.  Upon his return Thomas
went to college, where he became a business graduate.  Today he runs a
successful manufacturing business.  They produce wooden furniture.  I guess he
could not leave the carpentry behind completely.  He has offices from where
orders from across the world are taken and once the goods are ready to be
shipped, the delivery and payment process is being administrated.  Then there
is also a factory building where the loving art creating beautiful pieces from
raw wood, is exercised.  I can picture him in his business, giving orders and
sometimes rolling up his sleeves, lending a hand to make some exquisitely
carved table or dresser.  I take his hand in mine and stroke his long,
well-formed fingers.  It is clear he looks after himself but on the insides of
his hands, I can also feel the calluses; calluses he got from making raw wood
into beautiful pieces of art.

As he talks, his voice washes
over me.  I have only known him for twenty-four hours and I have not found one
thing about him I don’t like.  Can it be that I am falling in love? 

I feel the blood draining from
my face at this thought.   I have spent most of my life running from getting
too close to anyone.  My life has been a picture of rejection and hurt and that
made me a real sceptic.  In fact, it was barely a week ago that I told a
colleague at my new school that I intended never to get married again.  I was
enjoying single life and the ability to do what I liked, when I liked, too
much.  I was not going to complicate my life with a man’s agenda again.

And what was happening to me now? 
I feel like Thomas had come and with one kiss literally swept me off my feet. 
What is happening to me?  Who is this woman who is allowing a man to come and
inhabit every part of her?

“Why are you looking at me like
that?  I can see you haven’t heard a word I have just said,” he laughs.

I blush and say:  “I was just
thinking how funny life can sometimes be.  Yesterday morning I left for school,
not even knowing of your existence.  One knock on my front door changed all
that.  Now I can hardly think back on my life before that knock.  Has it really
only been a day?”

He laughs. 

“I feel the same way.  My days
have always been filled with work and family.  I cannot tell you how many girls
my friends have tried to set me up with.  To me it was just not important.  I
did not want to complicate my life with a woman and maybe even children.  All I
wanted was to build a successful business.  All I was doing was to go for a
walk to clear my head.  I did not realize how far I had walked and when I heard
a noise I looked up and saw you get out of your car, your arms full of books. 
I was standing across the street from your house for about ten minutes before I
walked over and knocked.”