King Coral - Honey Bare

Sarah was witty, she was vibrant and I had the feeling that she was getting a bit tight. She told me about coming to Hollywood, living at the Studio Club while she tried to break into TV and bunch of funny incidents that had happened on the TV stages. She had so much first-hand knowledge about the sex life of the men and women involved in the entertainment industry that she should have written a book. I told her that.

Her laugh was delightful. “And get sued?”

“The better to represent you, my dear.”

“You’re wonderful. Lincoln.” Her hand came up and covered mine, her touch warm and exciting.

“Sarah!” a woman’s voice suddenly interrupted.

I felt Sarah’s hand leave mine and then I forgot that she was sitting next to me and that a moment before she’d given me a great compliment.

The brunette standing at our table was stunning. She was tall and slender with a mass of dark hair piled on top of her head. Her make up and long lashes made her eyes look like those of a jungle cat. She appeared to be the regal Madame of lust.

As I got to my feet I heard Sarah speaking to her.

“How nice to see you again, Nora. Lincoln, this is Nora.”

“How do you do,” Nora said. Her words were coated with honey and when her hand slipped into mine I felt the quick pressure of her fingers. “How long has Sarah been hiding you from me?”

Sarah supplied the answer. “Long enough, don’t you think?”

“Much too long, if you ask me.” Nora’s glance moved leisurely over me, and then she pulled her hand from mine. “Please sit down, Lincoln. I must be leaving, really.”

I said, “What a shame. I’d hoped you could join us.”

“Yes, do,” Sarah added.

“Oh no, I couldn’t. Although I’d – like to, I just couldn’t. But enjoy yourselves, won’t you?”

And then she was leaving our table. She walked up the aisle, her hips swaying provocatively. She didn’t look back she didn’t need to. Every man in the restaurant, including me, was watching her leave.

As I settled down beside Sarah again I said, “Did you notice how I protected us from Nora’s advances?”

“Yes,” Sarah answered a bit vaguely and then she finished up the rest of the wine in her glass.

Obviously Sarah didn’t appreciate my humor. In fact, after that she was rather quiet. I paid the check and we left the restaurant.

While we drove to her apartment, she sat close to me with her hand resting warmly on my thigh. Since she didn’t mention Nora again, neither did I. I decided that – although they appeared to be old friends, something must have happened to make Sarah give her the chilly reception. Probably a woman-to-woman thing. Like both showing up at the same affair, wearing the same gown.

“I believe it’s stopped raining,” Sarah suddenly said.

I still had the wipers going but they were beginning to squeak now because the glass was completely dry. I turned them off. “The newscasters said it would last all weekend. I guess they blew the report again.”

When I pulled up at the curb near her apartment house, the gutters were scarcely running. We piled out of the car, I with my trench coat and Sarah’s under my arm. Halfway to the entrance the rain began again. It seemed as though the skies had opened up and the entire world was a shower stall. Instead of putting on my trench coat, I grabbed Sarah’s arms and we ran towards the stairway that led to her apartment.

We were both drenched to the skin by the time I’d gotten the key from Sarah and unlocked the door. It was she who fitted the chain lock into place again the moment we were inside her apartment. I just stood there, feeling the water trickling down my face and legs, watching it wet her rug at my feet.

“Oh, darling,” Sarah said, “let’s get you out of your wet clothes immediately.”

That was the last thing that entered my mind. Even though I felt chilled and damp and the rivulets of water were tickling my chest. Sarah’s knit dress had been molded to her before but now with the rain, it was glued to her. It was plastered against her hips and stomach and thighs, every line and crease clearly outlined. So tightly was it stretched over her breasts that the pink hue of her nipples was showing through the material and they were now about twice the size they’d been in the shift. Their dark tints were visible through the fabric, as though they were about to break the threads.

The only thought in my mind was to get her out of her wet dress immediately. As my arms went around her and my fingers found the zipper at the back of her neck, I said, “Ladies first. And right here, so we don’t get the rest of your rug wet.”

Sarah’s eyes had darkened, taking on the shade of emeralds. There was a fresh bloom of color in her cheeks; and I could feel the surge of her shoulders as she began to breathe heavily. I moved the zipper until it hit the end of the track.

“It’s been so long,” she said in a very small voice. “Do you believe that?”

“I want to believe it.”

I was doing a deep-knee bend, my hands grasping the sodden hem of her knit dress; raising myself up again and pulling the dress upwards.

“Suddenly I’m not chilled anymore,” she said.

I was watching the dress as it moved upwards, seeing it reveal the firm and slender thighs, her skin glistening a bit with the moisture. Then I realized she was wearing nothing underneath because the lovely strawberry patch appeared, the droplets sparkling in the beam of the single light we’d left burning.

“You’ll be fine,” I told her, moving the dress up and over her lush hips.

“So very long,” she was murmuring, her voice sounding strange and as though she were on the verge of tears. At the same time she brought up her arms and I had to move the crumpled dress slowly so that I wouldn’t bruise or hurt her hard breasts.

“The time had been very lonely and so terribly aching – for me.” She’d paused briefly to give her shoulders a helpful shrug. The dress slipped over the tips of her swollen nipples. I moved it carefully over her head.

Her hands came up to help slip it over her ears and in these few moments I relished the sight of her breasts, so passionately pink and turgid that the nipples were angled towards the ceiling.

Together we’d gotten the dress off her. I flung it aside, she fluffed out her hair with her fingers, shaking her head to make the damp strands swirl around her neck.

“Now you,” she said urgently. Already her hands were at my tie, her fingers working hurriedly, trying to loosen the knot. “I want to see you. I have to see all of you. I must.”

I let her work at the tie. Then I shrugged out of my jacket and let it fall to the floor, loosening my trousers, letting the weight of their wetness pull them down my legs. I wasn’t watching my hands, I was watching her.

Her teeth were gnawing nervously at her lower lip as her breath came in quick temp. Occasionally the tips of her breasts would brush up against my chest.

Because I was still wearing my shirt I hurried with the rest of my clothes down below, bending only once to get rid of everything.

I heard her suck in her breath as I straightened up again. Then, as she threw aside my tie, I opened up the front of my shirt, impatient with the time it was taking because already she’d reached down and grasped me and was clinging tightly, almost fiercely, as though she feared I might get away.

“I – I’ve got to have you, Lincoln. Now! Oh, yes!”

I sucked in my breath-sharply because the moment I’d put my arms around her and drew her towards me, her grip tightened. With a deft movement of her hand she’d changed course and I felt the quick flash of softness and heat as she stroked me gently along the entrance to her channel.