Saturday, February 6, 2010

Patricia sleeps over

By the next weekend, my sexual appetite was demanding sustenance. Some might say that my brain was in my dick. It is indeed true to say I no longer cared if I was playing my hand well with Patricia or not, if it meant that I must be even more patient. All I knew with certainty was that I wanted her.

Although my instincts told me that she was hungry herself, her demeanour and her style of dress gave nothing away. So far, she had simply followed my lead showing no signs of assertiveness. Her clothing was modest. I approved of that but I also felt a strong need now to get her undressed and explore her body for myself.

On Friday mid-morning, I left a message on her mobile phone during the day telling her that we would have dinner at the farm and she was welcome to stay over. I would collect her from her house at 5 o’clock, since she did not yet know the way. It was rather audacious and forward of me to not ask her if this was convenient or even wanted and I realized I was taking a risk, but I felt it was worth the risk. In my experience, certain girls look to be directed and for the man to show initiative, and every bone in my body was screaming out to me that Patricia was one of those girls.

Around an hour later I received a reply apologizing for the delay. She had only just received the message. She looked forward to the evening very much, she said, and would pack an overnight bag when she got home. The message sent an electric shock down my spine. I felt like a teenager again, giddy with excitement.

When I arrived at 5, Patricia was in a spin. Although she did not really have the time, she had felt inclined to wash her hair. She was dressed but she had not yet packed and the apartment showed signs of needing some tender loving care.

I did my best to put the soiled dishes in the sink out of my mind but I have to say it really bothered me that there were empty wrappers and an empty juice container on the coffee table in the living room. I had to fight the urge to admonish her for it. There is no excuse for laziness!

She sat me down with the latest issue of ‘TIME’ whilst she ran about the apartment putting things together. Admittedly, I had not given her much time since she arrived home from school but even so, things around here were going to change if I had my way, and I did intend to have my way!

I’m not sure what Patricia was expecting. I had told her little about the farm really – not much more than the fact that I had taken over the farm from my parents. My mother has a wandering soul and convinced my father to move off the land to enable them to travel at their whim. My father had become something of a successful investor in stocks in his later years and I took the opportunity to take over the farm when it was offered to me.

Although my degree is in Engineering, I have always loved the land, and the prospect of developing the business to its full potential was an opportunity I could not pass up. My father had been inclined to do things in an old-fashioned sort of way, but there was definitely room to grow the business substantially.

The driveway to the farm has a tall row of trees planted on either side, all the way from the gate to the farm house and when I drove Patricia down it for the first time that day, she audibly gasped.

“It was my mother’s vision,” I told her. “She planted them two decades ago.”

The farmhouse is not grand by any means but I think it is appealing – painted white with green shutters and the garden is looking good. One of the farm hands has a green thumb and is always keen to put a few hours into the garden. She loved it at first sight. It delighted me to see the smile form on her face and her eyes widen in incredulity.

“Max, it is so beautiful!” she said.

“This is my favourite time of the day,” I told her. "Time for cocktails!”

I gathered her bag and carried it into the kitchen where I found us two glasses and opened a bottle of white wine. I had her follow me to the garden and we sat in the shade in two comfortable garden chairs with a little round table between us.

One of the things I remember clearly is how relaxed Patricia seemed in the rural environment. She plied me with questions and happy to listen to the answers, or so it seemed, she listened quietly. When I heard my stomach growl I led her into the kitchen and found the food that Maria had left for us. I have some culinary skills but I don’t have the time for cooking and my housekeeper, Maria had chopped up all the ingredients for a stir fry. All I needed to do was heat up the pan and cook them in the right order; the meat and onions first, and so on.

But, as I prepared to heat up the wok on the stove, Patricia did something I would never have expected. She put herself between me and the stove and just looked up into my eyes with an expression that spoke volumes. Without thinking, I took her in my arms and kissed her on the lips with all the passion that was running through my veins. She was luscious! Her lips were soft and sensuous. She is a marvellous kisser and I took this opportunity to cup her breast in the palm of my hand and then run my hand around her ass. My God, but she felt good!

Yet, it felt wrong, somehow. As much as I wanted carnal knowledge of the girl, to plunder her and listen to her scream in my ear with intense pleasure, I found that I wanted something else even more. When I was ready, I led her over to the kitchen table and told her to sit and watch while I prepared the meal. I feel sure that I could have thrown her over the table and eaten her for dinner without objection, but the plan that jumped into my head was too enticing to let go.

She liked watching me cook. I think women do really: watch a man cook them a meal. When the food was ready, I excused myself and left the room for a moment. When I returned I walked up and stood behind her.

“Hands behind your back,” I told her.

“Max, what are you doing?” she protested.

“Just do as you are asked,” I told her.

Amazingly, she made no further complaint. She put her hands behind her back and I duly tied them to the back of the wooden seat. I could feel her body start to relax. Her shoulders dropped a little and even her breathing seemed a bit slower. I felt a surge of adrenaline running through my brain. My God, she liked this! How fantastic.

From where she sat Patricia had a good view of me by the stove and I must say I thoroughly enjoyed adding the ingredients and warming the pre-cooked rice whilst she looked on. I did my best to appear to pay her no attention. However, each time I casually glanced her way, I saw the look of incredulity on her face. I got a sense as well that she was revelling in the experience at the same moment as she felt acutely embarrassed. Well, she’d have to get used to that with me and that evening was as good as any other to begin.

I placed the cooked food into one rather large oversized bowl; not two. I could sense Patricia watching and I knew that any moment now she was bound to register her confusion and/or dissatisfaction.

Imagine her surprise then when I placed the bowl in front of me at the table and helped myself!

“Max, are you serious?” she wanted to know.

“My dear, you need only ask nicely...”

She became rather agitated by that comment. She blushed quite vividly and seemed to be determined to remain hungry.

But, after several more bites, when my resolve was clear, she decided to try a different tack. I could almost see her brain working and changing direction.

“Max, it does look delicious. May I have some of the stir fry, pleeeeeese?”

I felt my cock harden. I adore it when a girl asks for something nicely.

“Of course you may, my dear girl!”

The table in the kitchen is narrow enough that I could feed her with ease. Each time I brought the fork to her mouth she opened up, much as a baby bird opens up for its mother’s offerings. It occurred to me that the poor girl was probably starving. She seemed to be anxious for each bite and later I learned that she had only had an apple for lunch and nothing since then. I confess I felt a bit of a bastard when she told me that but even so, feeding her was divinely pleasurable.

After she was satisfied, a new sort of hunger overwhelmed me, as it did Patricia. When I untied her hands and led her upstairs by the hand, she showed no resistance to the unspoken plan.

But, it has been a long day and I will write of what happened next the first opportunity I get.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

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