Laslow with a sloppy grin. Twenty minutes later, Marcus has walked Laslow to the kitchen door and returned to his car. He drives in the direction opposite of his flat, making it look like he's taking me straight home. Once he's out of sight of Laslow's flat, he doubles back around and goes to his own flat. Driving in through his side gate, he parks his car where nobody can see us walking into his house. As soon as he locks the door, he grabs and begins kissing me deeply. Ten minutes later, we're in his room. He slams the door closed with his foot and we make short work of each other's clothing.
"Marcus? Do you...do you like...light spanking?" I ask him breathlessly.
"Yeah! How light is 'light?'" he asks me.
I demonstrate. There's a definite sound of slapping, but the impact doesn't hurt.
"Good. I like the excitement that brings to our lovemaking, but I don't want to hurt you," says Marcus.
That said, we're lying under the covers of his wide, comfortable bed, stimulating each other with touching, tongues, kissing and light slaps. Every time we slap each other on the arse, it sends strong stimulation to the centers of our bodies, greatly increasing our levels of arousal.
Soon - too soon - I am racing toward my orgasm, feeling the curling sensation of warmth licking through my pussy and inside my belly. My toes curl as I come long and hard. Just as I come, Marcus gasps and growls low into my ear as he comes.
Before we fall asleep, I think about how well our beliefs on various positions mesh with each other. On child-rearing, family, respect for elders, war, religion and politics - we share similar, although not identical beliefs.
This is only our second time together, but from what I've heard of other blokes, Marcus is very different. He doesn't treat sex - lovemaking - as just a horizontal exercise in between the sheets, or anywhere else. He understands what it means to make love. He took the time and went to the considerable trouble to make things really, really good for me. And, instead of just taking what I had to offer, he actually made me feel really good about my decision and about what I had to offer him. I feel like we are actually embarking on a real relationship.
Chapter 4
N ow that our band has successfully introduced Laslow to our fans, Nigel, our manager, begins to schedule performances all throughout England. We spend weeks on our tour bus, driving from England proper to far-flung areas like Scotland, Wales, North England, South England and even Ireland. We have sleepers on our bus, so, when Marcus decides to join us, he claims a bed not far from mine. Of course, we can't do anything together on the bus, but just having him nearby is sufficient. He sits to the side of the stage whenever we perform, just as he's done for every practice we've held since Laslow joined the band. On the bus, he sits right behind me, working on his articles. I work on my crochet or I listen to recordings of music we are currently learning. Always, when we aren't listening to our music, crocheting, sleeping or writing, the five of us chat and laugh uproariously. Marcus and I take special pains to keep from spending too much time together or gazing at each other - the lesson of Gemma and the talks that we had with the band's members have made a strong impression on each of us. I am not about to be kicked out of The Lonely Lovers! Under no circumstances will I let that happen. And I don't think Marcus wants to be banned from joining us at practices, concerts or our tours, so we work hard to put forth the facade that we are nothing more than friends. This means that our times together are limited to when we are at home. As the weeks and months move on into summer, more and more of our things find their way into each other's flats. Of course, when group members visit, we have to run madly around and hide what isn't ours so we aren't found out!
And the lovemaking! It stays just as hot as it was the first few times. In fact, when I
"Marcus? Do you...do you like...light spanking?" I ask him breathlessly.
"Yeah! How light is 'light?'" he asks me.
I demonstrate. There's a definite sound of slapping, but the impact doesn't hurt.
"Good. I like the excitement that brings to our lovemaking, but I don't want to hurt you," says Marcus.
That said, we're lying under the covers of his wide, comfortable bed, stimulating each other with touching, tongues, kissing and light slaps. Every time we slap each other on the arse, it sends strong stimulation to the centers of our bodies, greatly increasing our levels of arousal.
Soon - too soon - I am racing toward my orgasm, feeling the curling sensation of warmth licking through my pussy and inside my belly. My toes curl as I come long and hard. Just as I come, Marcus gasps and growls low into my ear as he comes.
Before we fall asleep, I think about how well our beliefs on various positions mesh with each other. On child-rearing, family, respect for elders, war, religion and politics - we share similar, although not identical beliefs.
This is only our second time together, but from what I've heard of other blokes, Marcus is very different. He doesn't treat sex - lovemaking - as just a horizontal exercise in between the sheets, or anywhere else. He understands what it means to make love. He took the time and went to the considerable trouble to make things really, really good for me. And, instead of just taking what I had to offer, he actually made me feel really good about my decision and about what I had to offer him. I feel like we are actually embarking on a real relationship.
Chapter 4
N ow that our band has successfully introduced Laslow to our fans, Nigel, our manager, begins to schedule performances all throughout England. We spend weeks on our tour bus, driving from England proper to far-flung areas like Scotland, Wales, North England, South England and even Ireland. We have sleepers on our bus, so, when Marcus decides to join us, he claims a bed not far from mine. Of course, we can't do anything together on the bus, but just having him nearby is sufficient. He sits to the side of the stage whenever we perform, just as he's done for every practice we've held since Laslow joined the band. On the bus, he sits right behind me, working on his articles. I work on my crochet or I listen to recordings of music we are currently learning. Always, when we aren't listening to our music, crocheting, sleeping or writing, the five of us chat and laugh uproariously. Marcus and I take special pains to keep from spending too much time together or gazing at each other - the lesson of Gemma and the talks that we had with the band's members have made a strong impression on each of us. I am not about to be kicked out of The Lonely Lovers! Under no circumstances will I let that happen. And I don't think Marcus wants to be banned from joining us at practices, concerts or our tours, so we work hard to put forth the facade that we are nothing more than friends. This means that our times together are limited to when we are at home. As the weeks and months move on into summer, more and more of our things find their way into each other's flats. Of course, when group members visit, we have to run madly around and hide what isn't ours so we aren't found out!
And the lovemaking! It stays just as hot as it was the first few times. In fact, when I
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