A Taste of Pleasure
Chapter 1 CROISSANT AND FRUIT
Love is worth waiting for are among the words of wisdom that were a part of London Shelby’s inheritance from her grandmother. That thought occurred as she leafed through a scrapbook while sitting on an antique fainting couch in Château d’Amour, an heirloom-filled home that Catherine Shelby had bequeathed to the grandchild she’d raised.
London had a day off from work in a law firm and was intent on spring cleaning her attic. She made herself a breakfast of a jelly-filled croissant and fruit, which she took to the attic with her. She plucked the grapes from the bowl and sucked each one into her mouth. Then she took a bite from the croissant, licking the overflow of jelly that trickled down her hand, then pondering how she would sort through good and bad souvenirs of the past to clear her way forward.
London had come to live with her grandmother at the age of ten in the aftermath of a car accident that killed her parents. She inherited the château at the age of twenty-four when her grandmother passed away. Catherine was a special and generous woman who not only left her granddaughter a few million dollars and a great home, but also a priceless journal
titled Life Lessons that she hoped would help London to lead a fulfilled and independent life. Among London’s favorites of her grandmother’s words was “pleasure without pressure.”
London was raised to enjoy life, but also to value an education and the virtues of hard work. She earned a degree from New York University while she was a member of Kappa Kappa Delta sorority, and she made friends easily. She came across a photo of her two best friends, Jen Gibson and Laura McCarthy. She wiped her hands on a wet cloth and traced their silhouette with her fingers. She had lost touch with Laura after they graduated, but Jen remained close to her. She turned the page and found a valentine from her first love—Deacon Wayne. A lacy white heart with such warm words it brought tears to her eyes as she read, “You’re deeply in my heart this day, where you will always stay.” She took it out of the scrapbook and held it in her hands, pulling it to her chest, reflecting when she met him ten years ago.
She was seventeen years old when she met Deacon in the College Ice Cream parlor. He took her heart away at first glance. He was a freshman in college and she felt so grown-up as he asked her if he might sit down. She lowered her eyes as she said, “Yes.”
“I am Deacon Wayne,” he said as he held out his hand for hers. She touched him and felt a tingle all the way to the floor.
“I am London Shelby.”
“So, London, what brings you here?”
“I am filling out my application to the university and picking out classes,” she said as she continued to leaf through the catalogue, her hands shaking with excitement as she looked up into his dark brown eyes. He was so handsome, she could hardly contain herself.
“What brings you here?” she asked.
“I attend the university here and stop by for a hot fudge charge once in a while. I can help you if you wish. What field are you planning on going into?” he asked.
“I would like to be a paralegal,” she nervously responded.
“Well then I can help you. I am a second-year law student. You must take Professor Robinson’s class; he is terrific.” She smiled at his suggestion and let the pages fall as she searched for his class. “There it is.” He placed his manicured finger on the class and smiled. “Well, London, I need to run, hope we run into each other again, nice meeting you,” he said as he spun around and left. A faint whisper of his cologne lingered. She inhaled deeply as she sighed, watching him walk down the brick sidewalk.
They would bump into each other often and she found herself going to the parlor just to see him. They had many conversations and she was very taken by him, plus the fact that he was studying law made him even more interesting. She also felt a dying urge to ravish his body. After several talks, he asked her out on a date, which she accepted, and they went to a movie. He held her hand. She was in heaven. When he took her home, he kissed her at the door and she floated into the house. The feeling she had for him had grown deeply and she told Grams how she felt. “Well, my dear, you’re approaching the most wonderful time of your life. You’re a beautiful girl and you’re going to have many lovers, I am sure, so don’t get all hung up on the first one. You’re too young.” But London knew better. Deacon was for her and her alone. When he asked her to go to his family’s cabin to celebrate Valentine’s Day she felt he was going to ask her to go steady. “I’ll pick you up Friday night around seven. We should be at the cabin by nine.”
“Pack lightly and bring a warm sweater and coat; nights in the mountains are a bit cold.”
“Okay, see you tomorrow night, bye.” She was awake most of the night, thinking about Deacon and what was about to happen. She rubbed her hands over her body, feeling the curves and the fullness of her breasts. Her nipples, which stood proud and waiting for his lips. Her hands moved down as she opened her legs and her fingers felt wetness.
The next morning she told Grams that she was going to spend the weekend with Deacon, and Grams looked concerned. “My dear, are you sure you want to be with him intimately?”
“Yes, I am. I want him to be my first.” Her grandmother came over and held her head in her arms. “It is your choice, my dear. Just hold on to your heart. I will be here if you need me.” London ate a small breakfast. Her stomach felt like it was in her throat. She thought about tonight and the fact that she would be with Deacon for two days. The day in school dragged by and finally it was time for her to go home and finish packing. When she got home, Grams had put a lovely cream satin nightgown on her bed with matching sheer negligee and satin slippers with a note. “I won’t be home when you get here, but I wish you a wonderful weekend.” London took the items and held them up to her, spinning around. She could smell her grams’s cologne on them. She carefully packed them in her suitcase and felt butterflies in her tummy. She showered and dressed. She heard the buzz of the front gate and watched Deacon drive down the driveway that led behind the château. He came to the door as she opened it, gathered her in his arms, and kissed her. That was all she remembered until they pulled into the parking space behind the cabin in the Adirondack Mountains. He opened the car door and
helped her up the stairs to the front door, where he carried her over the threshold, kissing her as he placed her feet on the floor. He showed her around the log cabin, holding her hand and bending down to kiss her more, and then they unpacked. He walked her into the bathroom where there was a hot tub. Deacon felt she would be less embarrassed covered by water than standing nude in a shower. He tenderly kissed her more as she whispered, “Oh, Deacon, I have dreamed of this day.” He smiled as he helped her undress. She had on blue jeans and a white wool sweater. His hands massaged her body, and he held her close as he kissed her neck and face. When her bra fell on the floor his lips touched her swollen nipples, and her head flew back as she moaned. He covered her with a towel until she was under the water. Then he sat across from her and extended his feet toward her and magically touched her body while skimming her private parts with his toes. He then moved toward her and took a nipple and sucked on it as his hands moved farther down. She opened her legs to a new touch and moaned as the surge of water touched her virgin parts followed by his talented fingers. “Are you ready, baby?” he whispered as he rubbed her shoulders and kissed her neck. “Yes,” she said. She stood up as he wrapped her in a fluffy white terry cloth robe and handed her a glass of champagne, helping her to the bedroom. When he kissed her again, his tongue slid into her mouth and a new sensual world opened up. He led her to the bed, where he kissed her lips and neck and sucked on her nipples. He massaged her body as his lips followed his fingers down to her passion zone. He took one finger and slid it between her legs and touched her button. She moaned and squirmed, then he opened her legs farther, his body fell on top of hers, and he kissed her again. “Are you okay?” he asked.
“Yes, oh yes,” she answered, her mind dazed with passion
and champagne. He pushed into her. She felt a burning sensation and then fullness. He filled her every desire and even more. After he made love to her, he held her in his arms as she toyed with his chest hair. They made love over and over as they feasted on each other. They got up and enjoyed wonderful barbequed hamburgers, ribs, potatoes, and chips, then back to the hot tub and more sex. On Valentine’s Day he had pizza delivered. It was in the shape of a valentine, and he handed her a special white one. “Oh, Deacon, this is so beautiful. I will keep it forever.” She snuggled next to him as he drove her home. After the weekend together, she heard from him frequently. The connection they had stayed intimate and wonderful. The conversations were mostly about the passionate time at the cabin, then, turned on by the memories, they would meet and have a quickie in the backseat of the car. “I can’t believe how beautiful you are,” he said many times when they were together, and she would blush and reply, “Thanks, I enjoy you too.”
After several months one special conversation played back in her mind over and over again. “London, I have something to tell you. There is someone else in my life. She is in college with me and we are in the same class. We have been studying together and getting very close. I hope you understand, our families are friends and have been encouraging us to get together. I think we might. Even though I don’t feel the same about her as I do you, it is for the best, I guess.” London felt her eyes fill with tears as she placed the phone on the hook and fell crying on the bed. Her grams was walking by the room and heard her. “May I come in? Looks like you need a friend.”
“Oh, Grams, I did what you told me not to do. I gave my heart away.” Her grams held her close and let her cry, then they went downstairs and ate a huge bowl of ice cream drizzled with chocolate sauce and whipped cream oozing over the sides of
the bowl. “London, pleasure without pressure is my motto. I have lived that way since your grandfather passed and it is the only way for me to protect my heart. Sex is just that . . . sex. It is the lust one person has for another. When the lust leaves, so do the feelings. However, love never leaves. It lingers through the good times and the bad. It gives you strength to get through what you felt you could never get through. Lust leaves at the first sign of trouble. When you find the right person, you won’t ever have to say good-bye.”
London looked up at her grams and smiled. “I have found that person, but he has another.”
“If it is real, he will be back in time.”
London smiled and then her mind came back to the present day.
She felt that strange feeling in her tummy for some ice cream. She smiled and left the attic. Took some things with her and placed the valentine in her purse, having gone through enough memories for one day. She hadn’t counted on the task of cleaning out clutter in her life to be so emotional. For the most part she was a happy-go-lucky woman who lived life on her own terms. She worked, because she wanted, not needed to. She loved—or rather lusted for—when and whom she wanted to since lust was sometimes the best medicine to use when life got painful.
She picked up her purse, checked the mirror, looked at the pile of memories she had placed on the table, and thought, I can do that some other time. I need a breather. She walked down into the four-car garage under the house and patted the antique Rolls-Royce, her grandmother’s car, as she strolled past. Her mind was in search of trouble and her body was crying for a lover’s touch as she eased into her black convertible Beemer. The supple leather felt cool and luxurious on her hotness.
She selected Lady Antebellum from the playlist and “I Need You Now” resonated through the Bose sound system, sending chills across her skin. She eased the tan convertible top down and let the wind tousle her hair like it was blowing memories out of her mind. The breeze felt exhilarating as she sped off. She was going to find a frame for the valentine and stop in the ice cream parlor for a hot fudge sundae with whipped cream.
The afternoon sun beat down over the steamy city, and the streets were alive and hustling with commotion. London traveled by a few haunts and finally found a parking place. Ice cream parlors were scarce today, but she found a place to frame her valentine and right down the street was hers and Deacon’s nostalgic ice cream haunt. She smiled as that was the only place she wanted to be right now. She shouldn’t have been shocked after the earlier sentimental trip to feel familiar eyes on her. But she was and when she turned around how appropriate it was to find Deacon staring at her as she screamed his name. “Deacon, is that you?” She got up, ran over to him, and gave him a hug before she realized what she was doing. “I was just thinking about you. It’s been years. How are you?” she asked, her heart beating so fast she could hardly contain herself. His white shirt opened up at the top, his dark hair accentuating his olive skin. He had matured and looked like an Italian model with his lips in a half smile as he looked down at her and whispered, “You’re more beautiful than I remembered,” his breath hitting her neck. She tingled.
She tried breathing more deeply without calling Deacon’s attention to her anxiety as she felt a sudden coolness settle within him. She smiled and listened, even as he told her that he’d married the girl he was committed to so long ago. He got up to leave as they both said, “Let’s keep in touch.” They laughed as they exchanged cards. He looked at hers. “Oh, I
see you’re working for the firm I have been trying to get into. Maybe you can help me. I will call you soon.”
She was happy to help if she could, as she of course wanted to see him again and thought that something in his body language and tone suggested that he wanted to see her too. While she respected his being honest about his status, she also detected that he wasn’t maybe so thrilled with his marriage or his life. Maybe because of her own emotions and self-interest she simply imagined his discontent and continuing attraction to her. When she got back home she went into the bathroom and climbed in her hot tub, letting the jets satisfy her screaming urges.
Several days later she received a phone call from him at her work inviting her to dinner.
“Sure, sounds good.”
“How about the Ol’ Steak House?”
“It sounds yummy.”
“See you at seven.”
“Seven it is, bye for now.” She stared at the receiver, lost in her thoughts. The day dragged as she did her work, looking up at the clock every hour or so. Finally it was five and she raced home, her heart beating in anticipation of meeting him. She jumped in the shower, dressed, rubbed scented lotion all over her body, massaging her breasts and down between her legs. Then she looked at her resemblance to her father in the full-length mirror, with the dark hair, haunting blue eyes, and five-foot-eight frame, her long legs now donning black nylons, knee-high boots, and her black dress covering her voluptuous body, just showing enough cleavage to entice Deacon. She grabbed her shawl and out the door she flew.
It seemed like her black Beemer was in slow motion, but soon she spotted a parking place in front of the frame shop
two buildings away from the steakhouse. She stopped and picked up the valentine. “This is gorgeous,” she said, looking at the brushed gold frame and black background of the framed valentine. She walked to the steakhouse. She entered the lobby, where Deacon was waiting for her. Her stomach felt like it held a million butterflies and her knees felt weak. He slid his arm around her waist and escorted her to their booth. She slid in across from him. He touched her hand and she melted. They sat and ordered a glass of wine. “You’ll never guess where I just came from.” She smiled as she waited for an answer.
“No, I don’t think I can.” She reached into her purse and pulled out a brown-paper-wrapped package. She untied it and showed the framed valentine to him. “Oh, I forgot about this. You kept it all this time?” he said as he smiled and traced the card with his fingers, his mind traveling someplace back in time. A nervous smile came across his face. She watched him for a few minutes, not wanting to spoil his journey. “We had a wonderful two days, didn’t we? My family still owns the cabin. Maybe one day we can visit it again—would you like that?”
She looked at him. “I have one question for you, Deacon. You’re married—what do you want with me?”
His eyes dropped as he fidgeted with his napkin. “London, I made a terrible mistake a few years ago. I should have married you. I don’t know what happened, but I thought I was in love with her, and our families were pushing us and before I knew it I was married. I am not happy, my marriage is falling apart, I have never been able to get you out of my mind, and when I saw you I saw the hope that someday I might be happy again. I know what I am about to ask you seems unreasonable, but I would love to get to know you again and see where it goes. I am not sure what I can offer you in exchange, except sincere friendship and passion beyond your wildest dreams.”
Pleasure without pressure.
The Catherinism circled through her mind as she smiled and picked up her glass of wine, sipping a small amount, enough to wet her dry mouth. She smiled and said with her voice quivering. “Let’s see, no promises . . . only time will tell.” She looked at the menu. Her eyes blurred with passion as she searched for something delicious to eat. Not finding it on the menu, she knew what she needed to fill this ravenous appetite. “Would you like to come over to my house and have dinner?” She flashed her white teeth as she looped her finger around his and slowly stroked it up and down. He winked at her, knowing what she wanted, which matched his desire perfectly. He watched her squirm in her seat and he welcomed the challenge to fill her delights and satisfy his bulging desire.
They left the steakhouse in separate cars. Looking back in the rearview mirror, her heart sang as she knew she would soon be in his arms again. The gates seemed to move more slowly than usual. She was anxious. Once she was finally parked inside the garage, Deacon pulled alongside her and swiftly came around to open her car door and extend his hand.
The intensity between them had her breathless. As she was fumbling for her house key he pressed against her. He moved his hips back and forth. She could feel the warmth of his body and his anxiety while playfully kissing the back of her neck. His breath drove her crazy while he nibbled at her ear. She finally unlocked the door to the château and he swept her up in his arms, kissing her. His lips, soft and warm, never left hers as he carried her up the steps into the family room on the main floor. He laid her on the bamboo love seat, kissing her and tantalizing her sensually, with his full lips and his magical fingers. He peeled away her clothing, piece by piece, replacing each garment with a tender kiss. “Oh, London,” he whispered
as his mouth found her passion zone and his ravenous tongue teased her. His mouth followed his fingers as he reached up and released the clip from her hair and stroked the silky strands as they cascaded over her shoulders. He fondled her breasts and teased her nipples until they stood proud against his eager tongue. His stubbly beard rubbing on her tender skin brought a sensation she’d never felt before. She wanted more of that later, but right now she wanted to please him.
He undressed and stood in front of her. She admired his handsome, sculpted body. He had developed into a Greek statue since she had last seen him, and now he was standing before her again, waiting. She stood to embrace him. His cologne was intoxicating and she was hungry for a taste of him again. She traced his neck and body with her hungry tongue plus little nibbles and kisses. She stopped at his nipples, gently tugging at them with her teeth and circling them on her way down to her favorite spot. His desire pulsed, her head spun, and her mouth watered as he sat down and she knelt before him in front of the love seat. She grasped his erection and teased his swollen head for a moment with her tongue before gradually sliding it in and out of her mouth. He is delicious, she thought. He smiled wickedly at her as he grabbed a handful of hair and tilted her head so she could take all of him in.
She felt him throbbing and wanted him to feel her wetness and show him how much she desired him, but right now she wanted him to come in her mouth, and her main thought was to gratify him as he had thrilled her several years before. He pulled her closer to him, his muscles tensing, moaning as his hardness went deeper and deeper into her throat, faster and harder, until she felt his warmth explode within her mouth. He moaned and she collapsed as he pulled her against him. He shuddered with her head on his chest, his arms tightly around
her. She loved being with him and enjoyed the pleasure of satisfying him. She took a deep breath, her passions playing second to his. She knew her time was coming and that in itself was well worth waiting for.
“How ’bout some snacks?” She got up, slipped on a terry cloth robe, and handed one to him. She then went to the wet bar and got out some grapes, cheese, crackers, and a bottle of wine. He got up and uncorked the bottle for her as she retrieved the glasses. They sat on the bamboo stools, drinking wine and eating brie cheese and crackers.
London loved the château she had inherited from her grandmother. There were large rooms with lots of windows overlooking fields of trees, and a stream that complemented the large brick estate. Her off-white wainscoting walls, cranberry and cream-colored tile floors that bled into the adjoining front room with the cream-colored carpet, burgundy love seats, large manteled cream fireplace, and a combination of Louis XV French furniture plus contemporary pieces complemented the room nicely. The curved staircase opposite the foyer separated the front room from her favorite place, the dining room with its Louis XV heavy crystal chandelier hung over the French walnut table, surrounded by sixteen chairs.
She smiled as she looked around, sipping on her cool glass of wine. Deacon fed her grapes, cheese, and crackers and kissed her after each bite. He was so romantic and attentive to her, and she felt a big moment getting close. He pulled her toward him and kissed her. She could taste the wine on his lips as his tongue swept over her lips and tugged at her tongue, and the sensation almost caused her to fall off the stool. He grinned as he steadied her, then he reached for her dainty hand and led her up the stairs to the master bedroom.
He turned down the cream satin comforter and scooped
her up. She wrapped her legs around him as he placed her in the middle of the bed. He opened her robe while he slid his weight on top of her. His body was so hot and smooth, it felt wonderful on her. She gasped in anticipation of what would come next. Her stomach muscles clenched with longing, and the agonizing wait was almost over. He grabbed her hips and pulled her to him, his hardness lying between them. She tried to wiggle her body so his sex would drop down and rest between her legs, but he pushed down firmly on her tummy, flashing a devilish grin. He enjoyed watching her squirm as he reached down to tease and fondle her wetness with his talented hands.
He toyed with her sex, tenderly at first, and then more firmly and quickly as she felt her pulse begin to race. He stopped and moved down to the end of the bed, pulling her with him as she moaned and pleaded. He separated her legs and eased his face down between them to kiss her thighs. He ran his tongue gradually up and down, first along her right thigh, then brushed by her button. She gasped, wishing he would stay there, and then along her left thigh, while his unshaved face brushed against her skin once more with antagonizing sensations. He worked his way up to her slit, then to her button, her most sensitive part, where his light touch and warm lips were welcomed. He took her into his mouth, drinking her in, tonguing her, nibbling tiny bites and sucking hard. She moaned and her hips began to sway and shift in time with his motions. She was panting, burning to feel him deep inside, but part of her enjoyed this torturous foreplay, as she lived in the realm of fervor. He inserted his tongue deep inside her as she whispered, “Deacon, don’t stop,” begging for more. She wanted him so badly now as his tantalizing prolonged her agony. She was crazy with desire and aching to feel him. She
was blazing hot and she knew this would be a good ride. She was ready for him to enter her, but only when he had decided it was the right time for both of them.
He kissed her tummy, her breast, her neck, all over her body, until she didn’t know where he was, still withholding his hardness from her. Then, with one swift move, he placed her legs on his shoulders and plunged deep inside her wet juicy walls. She screamed his name, clenched him with her muscles, grabbed onto the sheets, and smiled as she closed her eyes, feeling the hardness as he filled her and pushed to the end of her. He rode her wild, her walls so wet as she clung to him. Not wanting to come too fast, he stopped and pulled out of her, watching her eyes open wide with a facial expression of what are you doing?
“Oh my God! Don’t stop now!” London begged.
He grinned, holding on to his hardness with his hand. She reached down to touch herself, determined to finish what he had started. He let his hardness go as it searched for her. He grabbed her hands, holding them above her head, and watched her wiggle like a snake toward him, trying to reach him with her legs, her wetness shining like the morning dew. His maleness pointed straight at her mouth. He smiled, knowing she would get it only when he decided to give it to her. She looked at him, her eyes pleading for her passions to be fulfilled. “Deacon, please!”
He kissed her one last time before he flipped her over and dragged her to the edge of the bed. He stood over her and thrusted into her deep and hard. She closed her eyes as he crashed into her world of desire and passion. He ravished her as she screamed his name. He melted into her as she climaxed, carrying him with her in a wave of passion. Her body fell limp and relaxed as he pushed her up on the satin sheets and
gathered her into his arms to hold her. They were both spent and peaceful as her mind drifted away. She smiled and closed her eyes, clinging to him as their bodies intertwined.
They met several times a month at the château for months; then one day he looked deep into her eyes. “There is something I need to tell you,” Deacon hesitantly whispered as he brushed her hair away from her face and kissed her lightly.
London could sense the seriousness of his tone and felt her throat tighten.
“I have been given a wonderful opportunity. I have been made a partner in the law firm where I work. I am required to move to England and will be leaving next week. I was going to tell you when I got here, but when I see you, I forget everything else, and, really, this worked out better.”
Worked out better? she thought, a tear already forming in her eyes.
She rubbed it away before looking up at him. She wanted to be okay with this, but she just had a sinking feeling.
He held her close and continued, “You’re so special, sweetie. Never forget that. We can email and IM each other and visit by webcam. I don’t want to lose you again.”
“I don’t want to lose you either. This webcam thing sounds like fun,” she said, trying to lighten up her own mood. “I think we could get really creative with that. We will just have to see how it goes. You’re special to me and I cherish these moments.”
London stayed wrapped in his arms for as long as she could, until he finally had to go. She didn’t get up to walk him to the door. It was all she could do to watch him leave before she buried her face in her pillow. He was gone, it seemed as quickly as he appeared, and her grandmother’s words again appeared in her mind. Real love never leaves. She smiled, feeling he would be back.