Tybalt and Juliet Ch. 05

Azul Hermosa

Author’s Notes:

All characters are at least 18 years old, except where stated otherwise.

It’s the beginning of the Half Term holiday at the end of May. Jake, Amy and their schoolmates are in the middle of taking their A level exams. They’ll be starting at university in September or October.

Please note that this chapter starts immediately after the previous one ends.

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I stood at the bottom of the stairs, looking up, transfixed by the vision of beauty before me.

Amy was wearing a long, midnight-blue dress, which shimmered as she slowly descended. She wore her hair up, revealing the graceful curve of her neck, around which she wore a simple silver necklace with an aquamarine pendant. In one hand she carried a pair of black heels and in the other a small clutch.

“Wow,” I said, “You look amazing, stunning. You’re so beautiful!”

She reached the bottom step, pausing so that our eyes were almost level. I made to kiss her.

“Careful,” she said. “I don’t want to get lipstick all over you, well not yet anyway!”

I kissed her forehead instead, wrapping my arms around her, feeling the cool fabric of her dress. I couldn’t resist letting my hands slip a little lower to give her butt a gentle squeeze.

“Ooh!” she giggled in delight.

She slipped on her shoes and opened the door. I hadn’t seen her in high-heeled shoes before; somehow they completed her transformation from girl to woman.

“Come on,” she said, looking back over her shoulder at me, “the taxi’s here!”

I’d been to the Crown Hotel before, when I was nine or ten, for my grandparents’ Ruby Wedding anniversary. It was the place where the local townsfolk and villagers celebrated significant milestones. Occasionally it would be featured in the weekend supplements of the broadsheets, billed as a charming small-town retreat convenient for the capital. As a child, I’d always thought of the place as being somewhat dark and gloomy, installing better lighting inside apparently forbidden by fire regulations and various preservation orders.

By far the oldest building in the town, it looked slightly incongruous right next to the 1950s shopping centre. The front dated from the Tudor period and Queen Elizabeth herself was supposed to have stayed for a night. The dining area was spread over two floors, with the top reserved for private functions. The hotel bedrooms were a comparatively recent addition at the rear and were often filled at the weekends by wedding parties. It was a safe choice for the two of us for dinner together; the chances we’d run into anyone we knew were minimal and most of the other clientele would be at least over fifty, if not considerably older.

We were ushered to a small table at the back, partly hidden behind a wooden panel. There was a single, tall candle between us with a small vase of flowers that might have been sweet peas, it was difficult to tell in the semi-darkness. Her aquamarine pendant sparkled as the light played across it.

I looked across at Amy, “You look even more beautiful in candlelight,” I said softly.

It was true. Was it that moment, or the moment when she stood at the top of the stairs in her midnight-blue dress that I realised I was head-over-heels in love with her? I’m not sure; certainly the warm memories of that night have stayed with me ever since.

“One thing I didn’t say before,” she said, “I’m paying for this meal, all of it, this is my treat, my thank you to you.”

I began to protest, but she cut me short.

“No, I know you want to be a gentleman,” she smiled, “but this is what I want to do and it’s what I’m going to do.”

I mumbled my thanks, slightly embarrassed, then I had an idea, “Well if you’re going to pay for the food, at least let me pay for the wine,” I said. “Please, I want to.”

Amy relented and we began to study the menu. I realised that having committed to paying for the wine, it was then up to me to choose it, something of an own goal having minimal knowledge of such things. It was the sort of establishment whose wine list seemed the length of an encyclopedia, with the house wine almost the same price as a main course. I don’t think Amy would have cared, but I decided to go for the third-cheapest bottle of chardonnay, on the grounds that it was a grape variety that I had heard of and I didn’t want to appear too stingy.

Our main courses arrived. I was a man of simple culinary tastes and had chosen a fillet steak with all the trimmings. Amy ordered something vegetarian containing squashes, pumpkins and courgetti’s, which looked fairly indistinct on her plate in the dim light.

I’d been steeling myself to ask Amy a question, and this seemed as good a time as any. “Would you like to go on holiday together this summer?” I ventured.

“Holiday?” she asked, looking up at me, a little surprised.

“Yuh,” I said. “I wondered if maybe you’d like to go somewhere in Europe for a couple of days at the start of Bostancı Escort next month, once our exams are over? Maybe take the train to Paris or fly to Rome, just the two of us?”

Amy paused considering.

I continued nervously, “Or maybe go away for a little longer in September before university. Interrailing or something? Maybe around your birthday? We can do it quite cheaply, staying in youth hostels.”

“Yes,” she replied thoughtfully. “That would be really nice to do, in September maybe.” She paused and looked a bit embarrassed. “But I really need to finish learning to drive and I’ll need to get a summer job to save up for it. And no, you’re not paying for me, Jake.”

“Have you worked anywhere you can go back to, for the summer I mean?” I asked.

“I worked in the newsagents’ round the corner last year, but I think the owner has taken someone on permanently now and I don’t think I’d be able to go back. I’ve done some office work for Mum as well, but that was deathly boring and I’d only do that again if I was desperate.”

I’d been nurturing an idea. “What about working at the Stables?” I suggested. “Jackie’s often looking for stable hands to help out over the summer. She pays fairly well and you’d get some free riding time thrown in.”

“That would be great,” she said, but then her face fell, “but how would I get there every day? I can’t drive yet.”

“Well you’d be welcome to stay with us,” I said, “but if you want to stay at home, you can get the train,” I suggested. “Ask your mum to drop you at the main station in town when she goes into work, and then it’s just one stop down the line to the village. Maybe a ten- or fifteen-minute walk to the stables from there? Quicker if you bike. It’s further on to our farmhouse obviously, but the Stables are much closer to the station.”

“Hmm,” she said, “that might just work. Let me talk to Mum about it when she’s back and see what she says. If that’s OK with her, I can ask Jackie.”

“That sounds good,” I said.

“I’d get to see you every day. And we might finally get the opportunity for that roll in the hay together!” she added excitedly, her eyes flashing in the candlelight.

The waiter came over to our table and we chose a dessert each. I went for a trio of sorbets and Amy selected a vanilla panna cotta.

“Are you all sorted for the Campsite?” Amy asked, referring to the summer job that I’d been offered a few weeks previously.

“Yeah,” I replied. “My criminal record check came through in the post on Thursday, so I just need to sign my contract now and get my shifts organised.”

“And when do you start?”

“It’s the last Monday in June,” I responded, “the Monday before the Prom.”

She looked up at me anxiously.

“It’s OK,” I reassured her. “They know about the Prom. They’re not going to make me work when I’m supposed to be with you!”

Amy smiled. “And how do the shifts work?” she asked.

“So, the earlies start at six o’clock,” I explained “and you set up breakfast, run the morning’s activities and finish after lunch. The lates start at two in the afternoon and run through until about ten in the evening. Then about once a week, I’ll need to be there overnight.”

“And what will you be doing?” she asked.

“Well it’s mostly supervising activities with the kids, but there’ll be some work setting up for meals,” I said. “I think breakfast is a help-yourself cold buffet, so the people on the early shift are the ones to get everything ready for that – but it sounds like it’s just opening packets from the fridge, putting out the breakfast cereal, making the tea and coffee — that sort of thing. There’s a couple of catering people who take care of lunch and supper, but sometimes the kids cook for themselves anyway — it depends on the group; the older ones can use a camping stove.”

“That sounds fun,” she said. “And are there songs round the campfire in the evening?”

“Yes,” I replied. “I need to practise playing ‘Waltzing Matilda’ and ‘Ging Gang Gooly’ – I told them I played the guitar.”

“You’re not going to take your beautiful guitar up to the Campsite?” she gasped horrified.

“Not the one you’ve seen,” I reassured her, “but I’ve got another one at home, the one that I learnt on as a kid. That’s fine to take up there.”

We finished our desserts and split the bill as we’d agreed. Amy wasn’t really used to drinking alcohol, and was a little giggly after half a bottle of wine, but we managed to locate a taxi without too much difficulty for the short journey back.

It wasn’t fully dark by the time we reached Amy’s house, but we’d left the side lights on in the sitting room and their soft glow spilled out into the hallway, beckoning us through the front door.

I kicked off my shoes. “Drink?” I asked Amy.

“Yes, please” she replied, “just water,” giving my butt a cheeky squeeze.

I made my way into the kitchen. I filled two glasses with tap water, then carried them back to the sitting room.

As Anadolu Yakası Escort I entered, Amy had her back to me and was bending over the stereo system. She’d turned off all the electric lights and had lit about a dozen candles, placed at different points around the room. I set the glasses down on the coffee table and made to sit down on the sofa, but she turned, holding both hands out towards me.

“Will you dance with me?” she asked softy. I stepped towards her as light piano music started to emanate from the speakers. “It’s by Liszt,” she said. “It’s called Love’s Dream.”

We didn’t really dance, we held each other tightly, swaying in time to the music as Amy rested her head on my shoulder. With the two mattresses lying together at one end of the room, there wasn’t much clear floor space anyway. Our breathing slowed and synchronised as we melded closer, lost together in the moment.

The track ended and another piece that I didn’t recognise began to play. I dipped my head and we kissed deeply, illuminated only by the flickering candles around us. Then Amy began to unbutton my shirt slowly, kissing down my chest as she revealed my bare skin. I sensed that she wanted me to be still, to be passive, as she undressed me, unwrapping me like a long-anticipated present. She fumbled a little with my cuffs, then pushed the shirt from my shoulders, tossing it behind me onto the armchair.

She traced lightly over my skin with her fingertips, kissing delicately, flicking her tongue over my nipples and playing with the wispy hairs on my pecs. Then she laid her head on my chest again, listening to my heart beating as the music swirled around us.

“You are amazing,” she said dreamily. “Michelangelo’s David would be so jealous of your body.” We kissed again. Amy knelt in front of me, unfastening my belt and letting my trousers drop around my ankles. She took a pace back, allowing her gaze to sweep unhurriedly over my torso, as my cock hardened.

Then she turned her back to me, slowly. “Will you unzip me?” she asked. “Please.”

I bent down to free myself from my trousers, casting them aside, then stripped off my black socks. Bare footed, I moved behind her, kissing across the back of her neck and shoulders. Then I gently moved the small zip downwards, taking care not to catch it in the fabric. I stepped backwards again, watching as she turned to face me, her hands crossed to prevent the dress from slipping. Amy smiled at me, with not the slightest flicker of fear, anxiety or shyness. She was tantalising me, but not teasing me. She knew she was in control and comfortable in my presence. Then, with a quick flick of her hands, she brushed the straps from her shoulders and the dress fell from her body, pooling around her feet.

I gasped. Amy stood before me, clad in matching black satin bra and panties. She was indescribably beautiful. Her knickers were low on her hips, which swept upward to her waist in a graceful curve. Her silver necklace still hung round her slender neck, the aquamarine pendant directing my gaze downwards to her breasts. She reached behind her, and her strapless bra fell to the floor in front of her, revealing her pert, rounded globes.

I gasped again, “Helen of Troy would be jealous of you as well!” I said, marvelling at the beauty before me. “You are so beautiful.”

She stepped forward out of her dress and we embraced, my hardness digging into her abdomen. We stood, holding each other tightly again, kissing gently, lightly stroking each other, feeling the soft coolness of our bare skin.

The track changed again, to a piece with a slower tempo, not solemn, but light. It reminded me a little of a flag blowing gently in the wind or running water perhaps. I kissed her again.

Amy looked up at me. “Can we sit down?” she asked.

I sat on the sofa, naked except for my boxer briefs, as Amy moved some of the candles closer to us, placing two or three on the coffee table a metre or so away. Then she moved to straddle me, her knees either side of my hips. I pulled her to me and our mouths met again.

I ran my fingers up her front to her breasts and she balled her fists against me in pleasure. I kissed each nipple in turn, flicking my tongue across the tight nubs, before gently pulling them with my lips. She ran her fingers through my hair, pulling me more closely into her.

“Ah Jake,” she gasped. “That feels so good.”

We kissed again. Then she moved briefly away from me, curling up beside me, resting her head on my left thigh, her face only centimetres from my throbbing hardness. She ran her right hand up my chest, then trailed it down to feel me through my underwear. Then she moved forward, inhaling the scent of my crotch and planting a soft kiss on the silhouette of my cock.

She looked up at me. “Can I take these off?” she asked.

I nodded, my throat dry, incapable of speech.

Amy got off the sofa and knelt in front of me. I lifted my hips and she carefully slid the black fabric over my cock and Ataşehir Escort down my legs, casting the garment to one side. We watched each other in the warm candlelight, observing the shadows flickering across our bodies.

She lifted my left ankle, maneuvering me so that I was lying diagonally across the sofa. Then she hopped back onto the cushions, kneeling between my legs, taking my cock in her hand and pulling my foreskin fully clear of my bright red glans.

“Oh Jake,” she sighed. “I love your willie. He’s so big and hard for me!”

“I think he likes you too,” I replied. “He really likes you.”

“Ah look,” she marvelled, collecting a droplet of pre-cum and toying with it between her delicate fingers.

Amy paused, holding still as she held my cock in her hand, considering her next move, making sure she was ready to take the next step.

She looked up at me. “Will you tell me before you start cumming?” she asked.

I nodded, expecting her to start jerking me off, but she didn’t. She bent further and cautiously kissed the tip of my cock. She looked up at me again as if seeking reassurance.

I prayed that she was about to do what I hoped she was about to do. I nodded almost imperceptibly and smiled gently.

Then, she stuck out her tongue and licked the tip.

I gasped in surprise. “Amy,” I said. “You don’t have to do that, if you don’t want to.”

“Please Jake,” she responded, almost pleading with me. “I want to. I want to taste you. I want to feel you in my mouth. I want to make you feel good. I love you.”

“I love you too Amy,” I said. “I really do.”

She moved her head forward a few centimetres and began to kiss her way up my shaft, maintaining eye contact all the way.

I moaned gently and hooked a few wisps of her hair behind her ear then gently stroked the side of her head with my right hand.

She took her hand and gently pulled my erection towards her. Then she began to lick the tip, with small, slow movements of her tongue, always looking upwards, deep into my eyes, constantly seeking reassurance.

I tangled my fingers in her hair, not to direct her, but to gently encourage her in her exploration.

Amy dropped her head onto my lap again and began to gently kiss my balls, inhaling my scent.

“Ah Jake,” she gasped. “I love your body. You’re so firm and so hard and so masculine. I’ve missed you so much, I can’t believe it’s been so long since I last touched you!”

“I’ve missed you too,” I said. “You’re so gentle and so tender to me. That feels so wonderful.”

She kissed her way up my shaft again, continuing over my abs. Again, she took a deep breath through her nostrils, shuddering as my musky scent overwhelmed her.

Her head was positioned above my cock now, her mouth perhaps five or ten centimetres above my glans. I felt warm, wet drops as she gently dribbled saliva onto my tip, which she then gently spread over me with her fingertips.

I gasped with pleasure.

Then Amy opened her mouth and gently slid her lips over me, taking my most sensitive part inside. She looked up at me as she did so and I saw her love for me deep in her eyes. I moaned as I felt the warm wetness of her tongue sweeping smoothly over me.

“Fuck Amy,” I whispered, “that feels so good.”

Her eyes shone brightly, like a child given its first lollypop, exploring the new taste and texture. I stroked her cheek tenderly and she began to suckle, devoted to an act that would give only me pleasure.

I moaned softly to encourage her and told her how much I loved her and how special she made me feel.

She pulled off me and placed little kisses along my shaft, looking up at me checking for my approval.

“Oh Jake,” she sighed, “you smell so good, you make me so wet for you.”

Then she moved forward again, taking me in again, bobbing her head slowly, her eyes glazed with lust.

She took a deep breath, bracing herself, before opening her mouth to its fullest extent and engulfing my dick, pushing her head down as far as she could. I felt my cock jump inside her and I reached down to gently pull her off me.

“Was that OK?” she asked, disappointment in her eyes.

“That was amazing,” I replied. “But if you keep doing that, I’m going to cum and I want to make you feel good too.”

I kissed her forehead, then awkwardly extracted my leg and stood in front of her as she knelt on the sofa. She made to put my cock back in her mouth, but I pulled her upwards to her feet, picking her up under her arms to let her stand on the floor.

“I love you so much,” I said, as I looked deep into her eyes.

I began to kiss down her body, gently brushing each breast in turn with my lips. Then I knelt as I worshipped her flat stomach and sensual curves.

I’d never seen Amy completely naked and she was still wearing her black satin knickers. I assumed that she wanted to keep them on, so I skipped down to her lower legs, beginning to kiss upwards.

“Oh Jake,” she purred as I reached her inner thigh.

I could smell her arousal now as my head neared her sex.

“Please, Jake, please,” Amy said quietly.

I looked up at her in confusion, unsure if she wanted me to stop or to continue.

“Can you take them off?” she asked, “Please, my panties?”

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