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“What are you reading?” I choked out, my mouth going a little dry at the sight of him
It seemed like as good a place to start as any. Books, and their creation, particularly as a physical object, were our major point of commonality.
“The Plague.
“Sounds depressing.
“It is Camus,” he said with a shrug.
His eyes never left the page. A compulsion I understood more than I probably should have. Glass houses and all that.
“May I sit?
“Please,” he replied, gently patting the cushion to his right.
I curled up next to him as he continued to read. Basking in the warm crackle and pop of the fire as it devoured the logs. It was odd, but even his silence was oddly comfortable. I was almost resisting the urge to lay my head on his shoulder
“Is that a first edition?”
I meant to remain silent, but when I saw the page I had to wonder. The text was French, which came as a little bit of a surprise. More unique were the font and imprint depth. Indicating a pre-1980s printing process. Camus died in 1960, so the dates fit.
“Tres bon,” he said warmly, his accent flawless.
He put the book down on the low coffee-table. Setting it next to a clipboard I hadn’t noticed until then.
“There we go,” he said, turning his beautiful gaze to me, “my apologies, I wanted to finish that chapter.
“I understand all too well,” I replied with a laugh.
“Shall we go over the contract?”
“Please.
I may well have been the only person in recent history to beg for a business contract. Yet that was what I had come to.
He handed me the clipboard with attached pen. Much like the one Nina had brought. I wondered if he did all the paperwork. A pondering I soon confirmed as I read over the contract. By far the most beautifully put legally-binding document I had ever encountered.
For all its elegance, it also laid things out plainly. What would be expected of me and what he would do in return. I had expected something more one-sided. There seemed to be a fair amount of reciprocity baked into the DNA of the agreement, besides the bonus he was offering. It was always nice to find a way for everyone to benefit.
Hand steady as a rock, I plucked the pen from its perch and signed on the dotted line. My usually clean signature coming out as a quick scribble.
“Excellent.
Hugo took back the clipboard, returning it to its previous place. Never taking his eyes off me.
“Are you ready?”
For my dreams to come true? My wildest, craziest fantasy? The word burst out of me before I could think twice. “Yes.
It was absolutely surreal, a whirlwind, too fast, but somehow perfect. We fell into each other. Kissing passionately but also gently, Hugo giving me time to keep up with him as I learned. It was my first experience after all, and he was wonderfully patient. I thought he might take me right there on the couch. In front of the roaring fire, surrounded by books. Awkward as it was sure to be in terms of maneuvering, I couldn’t think of anywhere more perfect.
I barely sensed it as he lifted me from the couch. My entire body weight supported by his powerful arms as he cradled me like a baby. Continuing to kiss me all the way along, even up the old staircase, Hugo brought me to the master bedroom.
As the mattress of the Edwardian four-poster came up beneath me, I wondered how many people had been in that room. Let alone that house. Not only for the purpose for which I had arrived, a towel already laid out on the duvet, but in general. I got the feeling I was part of a very small and select group. One of the few Hugo thought he could give himself to. I was determined not to disappoint.
My shirt was lifted up over my head. Unveiling my breasts as I’d neglected to wear a bra. I’d still been naked when Cassidy called and didn’t want to take any extra steps. A decision which had apparently worked to my advantage.
Moving down my neck, Hugo worked his way along to my chest, his warm, gentle breath delightful on my bare skin. A lovely tingle ran through me as he licked gently along my right breast, taking my tender nipple in his mouth.
“Oh!” I moaned, filled with the most delicious pleasure.
Hugo teased me tenderly, before moving over to the other nipple, which he had been stimulating with his fingers. He applies same treatment to the moist one on the right, as he switched over to the left. Even this, just teasing my nipples, is almost enough to set me over the edge. Clearly he was a multi-talented man.
His hands on my sides, holding me still, Hugo moved down, getting ever closer to his final goal. On the way he stopped at my stomach, his wonderful tongue stimulating me in ways I’d never even thought possible. He brings me to previously unimagined realms of joy. Particularly for something so simple. I would never regard my belly the same way again.
