Xth Dimension This Story or any other story posted in this directory is readily available anywhere throuout the internet.I have chosen not to claim any of them as my personal work.As I start to write stories,they will be posted in this directory. Note:Xth Dimension is my trademark.though not recognized,this trademark will be thoroughly defended as seen fit by myself. ADAM By ISIS Chapter I A wonderful husband, happy children, a beautiful home, a career that I love, and terrific friends. Anything more and I would have to consult a thesaurus for additional adjectives. Every aspect of my life seemed perfect - I wanted for nothing. It is because of this that the events that I have recently experienced came as such a surprise to me. My husband, Dan, went on a business trip recently that took him away from home for a week. Even after twelve years of marriage, I still hated being separated from him. People that don't know us are often surprised to learn that we are far from newlyweds, as we have somehow managed to maintain the "spark" in our marriage. We are not only partners and lovers, but the best of friends as well. My family is the most important element in my life, and I truly cherish them. It had been a hectic few months, so I decided to take the opportunity to really get some well-deserved rest and relaxation during his absence. I packed up the little ones, and asked my husband to drop them off at his parent's house for the week. As they were preparing to leave, my husband reminded me that the home improvement contractor was going to finish remodeling our master bathroom that week. So much for my plans for rest and relaxation. It was too late to change my plans, so I decided to just make the best of things. The contractor we had hired was a family run business, owned by a man in his mid-forties named Carl Sheppard. We had been wanting to convert our plain master bath into a more luxurious room, complete with a whirlpool soaking tub and garden window. Mr. Sheppard impressed us with photographs of work he had done for others in the area, as well as his commitment to getting the job done in a short span of time. The new tile work, sink, etc., had already been completed much to our satisfaction. The only item left was the tub itself. We had to special order the tub because of the unusual rose color we had chosen, and it had finally arrived. The contractor was to arrive later that day to start the installation, which Mr. Sheppard estimated would take four to five days to complete. I padded around the house for a while, enjoying the solitude. I love my family, but I felt I really needed this time to myself to recharge my batteries. I went to the kitchen and put on a pot of tea, real Earl Grey. I rarely had time for the luxury of anything more than a Lipton Flo-thru bag in the microwave, so I was determined to pamper myself, even in this small way, while I had the chance. I had just settled down in my favorite living room chair to savor the tea when the doorbell chimed. Perfect timing, I thought as I arose to answer the door. I could see through the foyer window that the contractor's truck was parked outside, so I expected Mr. Sheppard to be on the other side of the door. When I opened the door, however, a stranger greeted me. "Hello, ma'am. I'm Adam Sheppard - Carl's son. I am afraid my Dad is out of commission for a while - he took a spill off a six foot ladder and broke his leg. He sent me over to finish the bathroom he is remodeling for you." He was barely more than a kid, probably no more than 20 - 21 at the most. He had dirty-blond hair that just came below his shirt collar, with bangs that feathered softly over his powder blue eyes. He was of average height, about 6 foot, with a trim body and a simply beautiful face. I must have been studying him for a uncomfortable amount of time, because he had to speak to break my reverie. "May I come in, ma'am ? I have some photographs to show you of my work, in case you have any reservations about someone other than my father completing the job." I shook my head and smiled at him. "That won't be necessary," I said. "I am certain your father wouldn't have sent you if he didn't think you were qualified. Please, come in." I held open the door and gestured him into the foyer. As I watched him walk past me, I thought to myself, where was he when I was 18? I answered my own question - when you were 18, he was in pre-school watching Sesame Street! I shook off that distasteful reminder of how many birthdays I had celebrated and followed him into the house. He smiled and told me that he would like to get started. I showed him upstairs to the bathroom. Most of the tools he needed had been left there by his father, so he started right in. He had informed me that the tub itself was on its way. He also informed me that, with the exception of having help from the delivery men in placing the tub on its base, he would be working alone. That made me feel a little bit better about my vacation plans - how much commotion could one boy make, for heaven's sake? I left Adam to his work, and made my way back downstairs to my tea, long since cold. I re-heated it in the microwave, and settled down to start reading a book - something I hadn't done since before the kids were born. I noticed that I really didn't hear that much noise coming from the bathroom, and reflected that I just might have a restful week after all. Hunger pangs interrupted my reading, so I went to the kitchen to fix a light supper. I had decided that since I was alone for the week, I was going to treat myself to all the food that I enjoy that my family is not too crazy about. I prepared a salad with fresh greens ("Yuck, Mom -Spinach?), with fresh chicken and a honey mustard dressing. I warmed some crusty French bread in the oven , topping it with warm butter. I decided to go all out in my self- indulgence, and opened a good bottle of white wine to compliment the meal. As I sat down to eat, it occurred to me that I should offer something to Adam, who had worked without a break all afternoon and into the evening. The tub had arrived shortly after he had, and I could hear that he was busy installing it. I quickly fixed another plate and poured a second glass of wine, and called up the steps to extend my invitation. It must have been warm in that unventilated bathroom, because he appeared at the top of the steps with his shirt off, his hair matted around his forehead. "Thank you, ma'am, that would be very nice. I'll go clean up and I'll be right down." Polite to a fault, he was. I will have to talk to him about this "ma'am" thing, I thought to myself with a smile. He came down the steps a few minutes later, with dry hair and a clean shirt. I told him we could dispense with the formalities - no more "ma'am", please. "Yes, ma'am." He winced, waiting for my reaction, then joined in as I chuckled. God, was he cute. We sat across from each other at the kitchen table. We engaged mostly in small talk about such things as how long he had been working for his father, if he was still in school, that sort of thing. I learned that he was attending a local university, majoring in architectural design. He worked for his father to help cover college expenses that weren't taken care of by his scholarships and student loans. It didn't take long for me to be impressed by this young man. He was handsome, bright, articulate, and sensitive. The conversation turned to me. I told him about Dan, my husband, and our life together with our kids. I shared silly stories about Dan and myself. I told him how Dan and I struggled with the decision to have kids, waiting until we were married ten years before Miranda was born. I told him about how we felt when our kids were born, the unparalleled joy we have experienced in being parents. I told him about my midwife practice, and proudly showed him the photo album I keep that contains a picture of every baby that I have delivered. We shared stories about our high school years, with me reflecting that the he was at a slight advantage in remembering details about such anecdotes. We exchanged stories of our joys and sorrows, our tragedies and triumphs. We ate, drank, and talked late into the evening, raiding the icebox for sweets and polishing off the bottle of wine. A rare silence broke our conversation, and he glanced at his watch. "I don't believe this - it's after 11 PM!" he declared. "You're kidding!" "I wish I were kidding. I had planned on at least another two or three hours work on your bathroom before calling it quits tonight. I can't do that now - I am really not a drinker, and I don't think I should do any more work this late and in this condition. I hate to say it, but I don't think I should even drive. I better call a cab." He certainly was mature beyond his years, I mused. Most young men his age puff up with testosterone when intoxicated, and proclaim their driving skills to be second only to the Andretti's themselves. Without even thinking, I blurted out "Nonsense. You will just stay here tonight. Why should you wait for a cab to go home, when you'll only have to wait for another one in the morning to come back out here? I won't take no for an answer - you'll stay here, in the guest room." "I am not in any condition to refuse, believe me. I accept." "And since you are staying, let's raid the wine rack and open another bottle - after all, I am on vacation." I was truly enjoying Adam's company, and I saw no harm in getting a little tipsy with my new friend in the safety of my own home. "I am in no condition to argue, so pour away," he said. "Do you mind if I start a fire while you're getting the wine?" he asked. "I know it's springtime, but it still gets chilly at night, and sitting in front of a roaring fire with a friend is one of my favorite things." It was now apparent that both of us felt a bond developing between us. I am astounded to this day that such deep-rooted feelings developed so quickly. I went downstairs to get a bottle of chilled wine from the refrigerator in the basement, then went back up to the kitchen and got two clean wine goblets. As I began to pour the wine, I heard sputtering sounds from the living room, then the soft crackle of a newly lit fire. I walked back into the living room and handed Adam his glass. "You know I could have you arrested for this, " he said with a sly grin. "For what?" I asked, taking a slow sip of my wine. He raised his eyebrows and replied softly, "Corrupting a minor." My initial guess pertaining to his age had been quite accurate. He wouldn't be 21 for another three months. Funny, I thought to myself, I hadn't thought about his age all evening. He simply didn't behave like some of my friends' kids that age - pompous, egotistical, and too "cool" for their own britches. Too late now, I thought, the damage is done. Just then the phone rang. Who could be calling at this hour, I thought? I answered the phone, and to my surprise, it was Dan. "Hi, sweetie. Everything is okay. I was just having trouble falling asleep, and I needed to hear your voice." "I miss you, too," I said. At that, Adam took his wine glass and left the room to give Dan and me privacy. Even with that small gesture, I was taken by Adam's sensitivity and maturity. "I won't keep you. I know it's late, but I just had to hear your voice one more time before I go to sleep. I love you, Sweet Pea." "I love you, too. Call me tomorrow and let me know how things are going." "I will. Tell Miranda and Justin I love them when you talk to them. okay?" "I sure will. Goodnight, sweetheart. I love you - and I miss you." "I love you, too. And I miss you a lot. Goodnight." I hung up the phone, picked up my wine, and took a long drink. I stared at the receiver for what seemed like hours, wondering if I really had a reason to feel the consuming wave of guilt that had washed over me as I talked to Dan. It must be the wine, I thought. After all, Adam and I had only been talking, for heaven's sake! I walked into the kitchen, and found Adam looking out the sliding glass doors into the darkness of the yard. He hadn't turned on the lights when he went into the kitchen, and I could just barely make out his silhouette against the reflection of the glass. Without turning around, he said "Do you feel as guilty as I do?" he asked. "Yes." I whispered. He slowly turned to me, eyes looking down, unable to meet my gaze. "But we haven't done anything wrong, have we? I just feel....so close to you......like we have known each other forever. Is that so wrong?" For the first time, I touched him. I lay the palm of my hand on his cheek. He exhaled at my touch, and lifted his gaze to meet mine. "It's not wrong at all." I couldn't think of anything else to say. He removed my hand from his cheek. "I think I had better turn in now. I have a lot of work to catch up on tomorrow if you want your tub ready before your husband gets back from his trip. Good night, and thanks for a wonderful evening." He started up the steps. I called after him. "The guest room is the second door to the right - the room without Big Bird or Cookie Monster in it." He turned back and smiled, then continued up the stairs. I watched him as he disappeared around the corner, and heard him close the door to the guest room. I went about the task of closing up the house for the night. I finally made it to my room -my room and Dan's room - sinking into sleep between the cool sheets of our bed. I slept late that next morning. I got out of bed and put a robe on over my nightgown. I used the kids' bathroom in the hall, which had become almost habit since the remodeling began. As I turned to walk down the stairs, I noticed the smell of coffee permeating the house. A fresh pot of coffee was being kept warm in the coffee maker. A hand-scrawled note was leaning against the machine. "I got a very early start this morning. Good thing your bathroom has an entrance from the hall. I fixed a pot of coffee - hope you don't mind. Adam." I took a mug from the rack on the counter and poured myself a cup. I went back upstairs, and knocked on the closed door that connected the master bedroom to the bath. "Can I come in?" I asked. "Come on in, but be careful," Adam answered. I was amazed at how much work he had accomplished in so little time. The tub was in place, and he was now placing the last of the ceramic tiles on the wall surrounding the tub. "It looks beautiful!" I exclaimed. "I can't wait until it's ready to use!" "That should be tomorrow night, " he said. I'm pretty much finished at this point. The tiles need to set about 24 hours, and I'm still waiting on the brass fixtures, but they should be here tomorrow afternoon." "I just want you to know I think you have done a wonderful job. Your father should be very proud of you." He nodded acknowledgment of my compliment, and busied himself once again. I spent the day running errands - grocery shopping, the dry cleaner, and such. By the time I got home, it was after 5:00 pm. I put the food away, then went upstairs to see if Adam would join me for dinner again. I was kind of surprised to see that he was gone, as were all his tools. The bathroom looked finished, except for the absence of the brass fixtures on the tub. There was a note on the ledge of the tub, written in Adam's now familiar scrawl. "I'll be back around 7:00 to check on how the tiles are setting up. I will put the fixtures in tomorrow, and then you'll be in business." I went back to the kitchen, and busied myself with preparing dinner. I set a place for Adam at the table. The doorbell rang at 6:50 pm. It was Adam, and he was carrying a small box. "Your fixtures, m'lady. They came early. I'd like to put them in now, if that's okay with you." "Fine with me," I said, "But can it wait just a little while? I kind of assumed you would be here for dinner, and it's just about ready." He once again accepted the invitation to dine with me. We enjoyed a good old-fashioned steak and baked potato dinner, but there was no lingering over the meal this time. "I want to make sure these fixtures are right, so I'm going to get to work. I'll let you know when I'm done." I cleaned up the kitchen, and then made some phone calls, including one to Dan. I gave him the update on the bathroom, and he was pleased. I decided to indulge myself and opened another bottle of wine, this time a white zinfandel, one of my favorites. I poured two glasses, and headed upstairs. I stopped by my room to change into some comfortable loungewear, then entered the bathroom. It looked magnificent. The gleaming brass accents truly made the room. Adam held our his arms as if to say "Tah-Dah", and smiled at me. I couldn't help but smile back at him. "It looks fantastic, Adam!" I exclaimed. "Thanks - I am pretty pleased with this one myself. This is a great color, too." "I love roses," I told him, "so what better color than 'Dusty Rose' for my color scheme!" He packed up his tools, and in several trips loaded them onto the truck. When he came back into the house, I offered him the glass of wine that I had poured. "I don't think that's such a hot idea," he said. "You know what happened last night - I don't want to impose on you again." "I want you to stay here tonight," I blurted out. "With Dan away, and the kids gone, there was something that felt very right, very natural, with you here last night. Don't ask me to explain it." "You don't have to explain it," he replied, blushing slightly, "my bag is in the truck." We exchanged a smile, and with that, he left to get his overnight bag. When he returned, he took the bag to the guest room, and then joined me in the living room. We lit another fire, and sat and drank our wine and talked as we had the night before. Comfortableness came more easily and quickly this time, and soon we were sitting on the floor, facing the fire, our backs resting on the sofa. We talked again about our families, particularly my kids. Adam told me that he hoped to have kids someday, and that he hoped he could be half the father to his kids that his father has been to him. I jokingly remarked that he was lucky to be a man, in that although the actual act of carrying and bearing a child is glorious in some ways, it also does some things to a woman's body that are less than desirable. "Such as," he queried. "Well, " I began, "Let's just say that my bikini wearing days are over." "Why do you say that?" he asked. "You are in great shape!" I smiled at his naivete. "Clothes hide a multitude of sins, dear child. I have gotten my muscles back in shape, but I am afraid that carrying Randi and Justin left me with stretch marks on my belly that just don't compliment a string bikini very well." I laughed, and took another drink of my wine. "Let me see them," he said. I stopped laughing abruptly. "Are you serious?" I asked. "Why on earth would you want to see them ?" "Just let me see them, " he persisted. I looked into his eyes, in the flickering light of the fire, and saw that he was serious. I am not sure why, but I decided to comply with his request. I took another long sip of my wine to prepare me, and slowly rolled up the shirttail of my pajamas to expose my flat, but slightly marked, belly. He moved closer to me, and put his hand on my stomach, lightly moving his fingertips over the tiny pearlescent indentations in my flesh as if he were a blind man reading Braille. He peered closely, and then looked up at me, all the while stroking my belly tenderly with his hand. "i think you should not worry so much about what other people think about this," he said. "You want to know what I think? I think that these marks are proof that you have produced new life, and I can't think of anything much more beautiful than that." I touched his face, and moved my hand back to caress his hair, running it gently through my fingers. Through misty eyes, I told him that this was probably the nicest thing that anyone had ever said to me. I couldn't believe that depth of this man. Yes, he is a man. Despite his age, there was not doubt in my mind of that. At the risk of sounding Shirley MacLaine-esque, he seemed to be a person with a very young body and a very old soul. Looking into his eyes at that moment, I felt something deep within his soul pierce mine, and I somehow knew that we were undeniably and irrevocably bound together. My hand still in his hair, I pulled him gently to me, bringing his lips close to mine. He looked deep into my eyes, and took my head in his hands. My heart was racing, beating so hard I thought it would surely leap out of my chest, and my breath came in short, panting gasps. Looking into his eyes was like stepping into a chasm - I was free-falling. He softly spoke. "You know that if I even just kiss you now, there is no turning back. I don't know if either one of us is ready for this, so I am going to go upstairs now. Good night." He took his hands from my face, and stood up and walked away. Once again, his actions were in sharp contrast to his age. I watched him walk up the stairs. I followed him to the bottom of the stairs. He turned back to look at me. I started to speak, but could not utter the words I needed so desperately to keep inside of me. "I ....I......," I stammered. Adam looked into my eyes once again. "I know," he said. "So do I." He disappeared into the guest room, pushing the door ajar behind him. I sat on the bottom step, crying as I had never cried before. I felt confused, excited, guilty, and exhilarated, all at the same time. After a few minutes, I managed to gather my senses and head upstairs myself. As I walked past the guest room, I could hear Adam moving about in the room. Despite my better judgement, I stopped outside of the room, slowly pushing the door open just a bit more. I peered into the room. Adam was standing barefoot next to the bed with his back to the door. He took off his watch and placed in on the nightstand. With his back still facing the door, he removed his shirt and tossed it onto the foot of the bed. It was then that I realized that my pulse rate had quickened, and that my breathing had become shallow and rapid. i knew I should have turned away at that point, but I just couldn't take my eyes off of him. Adam unbuckled his belt, unzipped his jeans, and pushed them to the floor. He stepped out of the jeans, kicking them aside. He was left wearing only a pair of Jockeys, the kind that sort of look like bicycle pants - mid-thigh length, and very form fitting. He stretched, and i could see the muscles rippling underneath his tanned flesh. His body was flawless. My breathing increased, and I felt a surge of adrenaline warm me from the inside out. My face felt flushed, and little beads of perspiration began to form on my brow. As I watched him, I realized that I wanted him, badly. I finally let common sense overtake me, and i turned away and went to my room, wondering how in the world I was going to manage to fall asleep, knowing that he was just yards away in the next room. I awakened the next morning to the ringing of the telephone. It was Dan. He was calling to tell me that he had his flight confirmed, and that he would be home the following evening. "I can't wait to see you - and I can't wait to christen that new bathroom!" he said gleefully. "I have really missed you. I can't really talk right now - we are on our way to a breakfast meeting. I just wanted to tell you that I love you!" "I love you, too, Dan. I mean that. I truly love you." And I did mean it. No matter what else was happening to me, I loved Dan with all my heart and soul. "I have to run, Sweet Pea. See you soon! I love you. Bye bye." "Bye." I hung up the phone. I went into the master bath and freshened up for the morning, then changed into a pair of shorts and one of Dan's shirts. I felt a terrible, aching need to have something of his close to me. I walked down the hall, and peered into the guest bedroom. The bed was still turned down, the sheets rumpled, but he was gone. I began to make the bed, and as I lifted the pillow, the pillow that he had slept on, I brought it up to my face, inhaling deeply. It still smelled like him. I quickly stripped the bed of everything, sheets, blankets, pillowcases. I threw the bedclothes into the closet, and got fresh ones from the linen closet. After making up the guest bed, I tried to busy myself around the house. I spent the day cleaning out drawers and closets, even puttering around the attic, doing anything to keep my mind off of the confusion raging inside of me. Evening came, and still I had not heard from Adam. I changed into a pretty white eyelet nightgown, and settled into an easy chair in the bedroom to try to get back into my book. I had no sooner found my page when the doorbell rang. I closed my eyes, knowing full well who it was. My heart starting to pound again, completely out of my control. I am still not sure if I love this feeling, or fear it. I went downstairs, forgetting even to put slippers on, and answered the door. Adam stood there, with a large covered box in his hands. "Are you going to let me in, or are you going to let me stand here and get a hernia?" I had to grin in spite of myself. I opened the door, and he headed straight upstairs. "What are you doing?" I called after him. "Getting ready for bath night," he shouted back. "Go put your hair up, and don't come in until I call you." I did as he requested. I tied my hair up with a rose colored ribbon, and sat on the edge of the bed and waited. I could hear him moving about in the next room, and I could hear water running. About twenty minutes passed, and finally Adam called for me to come into the bathroom. I turned off the bedroom light, and as I opened the bathroom door, the room was flooded with the flickering glow of candlelight. I peered into the bathroom, and sure enough, there were probably thirty candles of various shapes and sizes placed about the room. I entered the bathroom. Adam was sitting on the edge of the new tub, holding out his hand for me. The deep scent of rose bath oils filled the room. There was a bottle of champagne chilling in ice in the sink. A portable tape player played beautiful music, and scattered on the floor of the room and floating in the tub were fresh rose petals - white, red, and the same dusty rose color as the room itself. "Your bath awaits, m'lady". I took his hand, and he stood up, moving to stand behind me. He reached around me, and slowly unbuttoned my white eyelet gown. He gently pushed the gown over my shoulders, and I felt my whole body shiver in response to his gentle touch. He pushed the gown down to my waist, exposing my breasts. My nipples hardened, partly from the cool air, partly from his touch. He moved in front of me, and knelt before me, tenderly tugging at the gown until it rested on the floor with the rose petals. He looked up at me, and put his hands on my hips. He leaned forward, resting his head on my belly, and so gently placed a loving kiss on the very spot he had been caressing the night before. He took my hand once more, and gestured for me to enter the tub. I stepped carefully into the deep, hot water, and immersed myself in its luxury. Adam went to the sink, opened the champagne, and poured one glass. He sat once again on the edge of the tub, and handed me the glass. "Enjoy yourself, " he said. "You deserve it." He caressed my cheek with the back of his hand, pushing back a stray curl. Then he stood up and moved toward the door. There was not a second champagne flute sitting on the sink. He was leaving. I realized that Adam had made all these elaborate arrangements solely for my pleasure, with no intention of enjoying them with me. It was then that I realized that I had fallen absolutely and completely in love with this man. Emotions poured from me like lava from a volcano, strong, muddled, and without direction. But I love Dan, I thought to myself! I searched my soul, and realized that I truly did love Dan, as wholly and completely as ever. How could this be happening to me? How could I be so in love with two people at the same time? I couldn't leave Dan - I love him! But yet I felt sick at the thought of not being able to have Adam in my life. Dan would be home the next evening. I acted on the moment. Yes, I love Dan, but he isn't here now. But I also love Adam, and he is here. "Please ..... don't go," I said to him in a voice barely above a whisper. He leaned forward, resting his hands and his forehead on the door. He inhaled deeply, and turned to rest his back against the door. He slid down the door until he was sitting on the floor, slowly exhaling. He looked at me, with love and pain and joy and sadness in his eyes and said, "What the hell are we going to do?" I reached for a towel, and dried off, getting out of the tub. I put my nightgown back on, and sat on the floor next to Adam. "i honestly don't know. I can't believe this is happening. I am in love with my husband, but I can't bear the thought of not being with you. God, that sounds so greedy. What am I supposed to say to him, Adam? 'By the way, honey, I fell in love with a 20 year old kid while you were gone and he is going to live in the guest room.'" I couldn't hold back the flood of emotion any longer, and my body became wracked with sobs. He took my hand in his, and gently kissed it. He put his arms around me, holding me tight. As my tears subsided, I turned to look at him. For some reason, it was at that moment that I realized that we hadn't even shared a kiss yet. I stared deeply into those powder blue eyes, looking for answers I couldn't find within myself. He started to speak, but I hushed him, putting my finger to his lips. I held his face between both of my hands, feeling the warmth of his flesh, the softness of his hair. I took a deep breath, mustering all the courage and strength I could find, and pulled him toward me and kissed him. He melted into my kiss, our mouths open and hungry. He embraced me, holding me so tightly that I could barely breathe. My breath came in short, labored bursts, and my body felt as if it were electrified. The point of no return had just been crossed. Without losing a stroke with our mouths, we began to undress each other, tugging and pulling at our clothes with a ferocity that belied the tenderness from which this impending act had sprung. When we were both finally naked, we held each other so close, as if we were somehow trying to crawl inside of each other. I moved my hands about his body, needing to touch and commit to memory every inch of him. His kisses moved to my neck, where he kissed and licked the sensitive skin just under the chin. I threw my head back, and moved my hands to his head, once again stroking his hair, but this time with more urgency. Small groans escaped his lips, and hearing them only enhanced my excitement. As he continued kissing me, I gently guided his head with downward motion, until his face was buried in the warmth of my breasts. He gently kissed and nibbled at my breasts, coming to rest on the left nipple. He licked it slowly, getting it wet, then pulled his head away, and blew a soft but steady puff of air on it. With that, both nipples rose and swelled, becoming large and erect, and all the more sensitive to his touch. He cupped my breasts in his hands, and lifted them up, taking turns lapping and teasing each nipple with his warm, wet tongue. My chest heaved, my breathing coming in sharp, uneven bursts. I encircled his head with my arms, pulling him tighter to me, not wanting to ever let go. Weakness began to overtake me, and I dropped slowly to my knees, taking him with me. I lowered my face, and put my lips to his ear. The sound of my breathing only served to intensify his own passion, and he began to kiss and suck my breasts with increasing urgency. "Make love to me, make love to me now!" I gasped. He put his arms around me, and guided me gently to the floor. I looked at his face, once again marvelling at how beautiful he was, the candlelight dancing off his hair. I pulled him closer to me, and he nuzzled his face in my neck. He lay on top of me, and I began to slowly, almost subconsciously, moving my hips up and down. He began to move with me, matching my rhythm. I could feel his hardness pressing into my belly, and I reached down between us to take him in my hand. I gave him a firm but gentle squeeze, and he responded, swelling and throbbing in my grasp. "I have to have you now," Adam whispered in my ear. That was all I needed to hear. I guided him to the entrance of my sex, and increased the gyrating motion of my hips. He pushed gently, the wetness allowing him easy entry. A quiet "ahhhh" escaped from my lips. We began to move together once again, pushing him deeper and deeper inside of me. I moved more intensely, wanting to take all of him, my hands gripping his back and pulling him towards me. No matter how we tried, we just couldn't seem to get close enough to each other. I felt myself approaching a climax. There were so many things I wanted to do with this man. I wanted to feel him, on me, around me, in me. I wanted to taste every inch of his body. But for now, this first time for us, there seemed to be a sense of urgency that we both needed to quell. "Come with me, Adam! I want to feel you come inside of me!" He groaned, and moved against me with a passion that was matched by my own. Our breathing became in sync, both of us moaning and gasping as he came, deep inside of me. Feeling the warmth of his fluids filling me caused my own body to shudder, enveloped in the indescribable pleasure of my own orgasm. "I love you," he said quietly. "I love you, Adam." We put our arms around each other tightly, basking in the remnants of the sensations we had just shared. The tape player had long since stopped, and the only sounds we heard were the occasional flares of the candles, and the now normal rhythm of our breathing. That is, until we heard the sound of the front door being unlocked, opened, and shut again. There was only one other person who had a key to the house, and I realized that Dan must have decided to return home early. I looked into Adam's eyes, and sighed deeply.