Transforming Genevieve Chapter Five - Sex Stories

Transforming Genevieve Chapter Five

... anticipation in our own way,” he offered.

I touched his arm and asked, "Will you teach me your way, Dick, please."

"I'd be happy to, Genevieve,” he replied.

I turned back toward the bar and lifted my wine to my lips. Perhaps Dick would show me how to control my lust, how to let the anticipation of making love with a man heighten the sexual pleasures of that ultimate act. He had shown me earlier in the week, when we pleasured each other orally in my office, that a slow, steady approach to sexual intimacy was something I'd want to explore.

"I'll be your willing student," I said.

Dick took one final massive gulp from his mug and said, "Then let's start the learning, baby."

He slid from his stool and quickly slipped into his jacket. Removing mine from the back of my stool, he helped me with it and gently pulled my hair from under the collar. "Better button it up, Gen; it may be cool outside,” he offered.

Dick paid Jim for our drinks. I smiled widely at our handsome bartender, hoping he'd remember that smile the next time I entered his establishment.

Dick's car was parked a block and a half up East Street. As we walked, he slipped his arm around my waist. I snuggled into his side, letting him protect me from the cool evening breeze. It felt good being close to him. I smiled to myself, recalling that less than a week earlier, I thought I didn't care if I saw him when he told me he would look forward to seeing me after my weekend in Manhattan. How wrong ...

... I'd been about him. The anticipation of being alone with him now excited me. I wanted to understand how to control my lust, my cravings for a man's cock, and somehow I felt Dick would turn out to be the perfect professor.

It took twenty-five minutes to drive from East Street across town to a suburban family development where Dick lived. As we turned into the driveway, I noticed the Real Estate For Sale sign planted in the front yard. He pushed the remote button above his sun visor, and one of the twin garage doors glided up. Dick slowly pulled into the garage alongside what looked like a rusting old heap of a car.

"What's that?" I asked, pointing toward the heap.

"That, my dear, is a 1963 Chevy Impala SS." He said proudly. "I'm restoring it," Dick added.

As I stepped out of his everyday car, I noticed a large poster mounted on the wall in front of his Chevy. It was the same car, beautifully painted in bright red with a red and white interior.

"Is that what it'll look like, Dick?" I asked.

"I hope so, Genevieve, if I ever get it finished. I've been at it for almost six years,” he said.

"Dick, your car was made eight years before I was born," I said, smiling at him. "When it's finished, I want a ride."

He smiled and said, "We'll cruise together, babe."

Dick's home lacked the furnishings its size suggested. The kitchen had a small dinette table and four chairs. The living room was empty, as was the formal dining room. His family room looked reasonably ...