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In Pursuit of a Love Connection Page 5


  Lynn’s frustration mounted. What else could go wrong? Sudden thunder cracked over her head and out of a clear sky rain started to fall. Shit, she thought. She turned and ran for one of the shelters, and the clown ran behind her. As most southern thunderstorms do this time of year, the rains ceased about three minutes after they reached the shelter.

  Lynn watched the photographer closely as he snapped pictures of statuary and carefully arranged ruins with a practiced eye. He seemed familiar with the style and managed to photograph items that belonged together… and he seemed totally oblivious to her. She laughed to herself. Her hair was now wet and curly, and the off white gauzy linen blouse and the unbleached linen skirt were soaked through. A shock went through her because she was nearly nude in front of this stranger, and then a stronger feeling took over… she was more than a little miffed! This great looking foreign photographer was out here in the middle of nowhere with her nearly nude and he wasn’t even trying to look at her. She had on no bra, and only a pair of thong panties beneath the skirt, she had been planning on a day out in the intense Alabama heat.

  She brushed her below the shoulder blonde hair, but the curls were springing up everywhere in this humidity… it was hopeless. Lynn realized she hadn’t heard any noise from the photographer for a few minutes and she turned to see him staring at her with a professional eye. “You are model?” he asked again.

  “No,” she said, smiling as she shook her head. “I’m Lynn,” she told him, pointing at herself and handing him a dry business card from her purse. “Real Estate Agent,” she tapped the card with her agency logo on it.

  “I am Kostas,” he said slowly, “I take pictures.” He pointed around the gardens. “Come,” he said, and he began to walk through the wet gardens. The humidity was almost unbearable, but a light breeze began to blow and the sunlight was catching the raindrops on the plants and shrubs, turning the whole place into a visual playground. Kostas gradually began taking pictures that included her in them. He took her picture when she was smelling the wild honeysuckle, and then he stopped and sat on an old marble bench that had started its life in the hills of Greece. He showed her how the girls in his homeland wove the wild honey suckle into sweet smelling necklaces, and then made her a band the same way for her hair.

  In spite of herself, she began to enjoy the time she was spending with Kostas, posing for him for more and more of the pictures. His English was all but non-existent, though he tried to tell her what he wanted, eventually he just put his hands on her and posed her the way he wanted. He must have reloaded the cameras a half dozen times. Finally, he put away the cameras he had been using and brought out a digital camera almost reverently. Lynn wasn’t really familiar with professional cameras, but this one said “Hasselblad H4D” on the case and it looked expensive.

  Kostas sat her on the old marble bench with the honeysuckle bending over it, the garland still in her hair. He had her lie down on the bench and he began to take picture after picture of her from very close range. He changed the positions of her arms and legs, making minute changes between shots, changing the angle of the photographs so that the sun would be striking her from different directions.

  She didn’t even notice at first that he had unbuttoned the top two buttons of her sheer linen blouse, or that he had arranged the wide neck so that she had one shoulder exposed. She hadn’t noticed that he had put her in more and more provocative poses until he slid the ruffled skirt high onto one thigh as her head rested on her hand, her elbow on her knee. He showed her the last photo on the image screen and it was surprisingly sexy. He was so serious, and the laughing clown was no longer the one taking pictures. Lynn found herself responding to his nonverbal commands without question.

  She felt very odd, very out of herself… it was if he was making love to her with his camera, and it was arousing her. Her curly hair, dried in the sun, flowed around her head in a living mass, and her nipples hardened as if the camera lens was his hand. Lynn found herself thrusting the ripe nipples forward, daring to catch them in the photos. She knew he could see through the shirt now, no longer wet from the rain, but damp from the sweat… she didn’t care. When he made a motion for her to drop the shirt she did so without a moment’s hesitation, covering and half uncovering her breasts at his instruction. He took a series of photos of her naked back, with her head turned back towards him. It wasn’t long before the only things she wore were the garland and the necklace he had made for her, and the pictures were more and more intimate.

  The pictures weren’t lewd, they were surprisingly erotic, and the feeling that he was making love to her with his camera was stronger and more arousing than ever. When he came very close to her face for close ups, she was aware that her breathing was rapid and heavy, and that her heart was racing. When Kostas finally touched her, she was afraid that she would cum. His kisses were soft, and maddeningly arousing, his tongue tracing and then penetrating her soft pouty lips. He explored her teeth, and searched the recesses of her mouth. His lips and tongue explored her ears, the nape of her neck, and finally, his lips barely touched her nipple and she came. It wasn’t an earth moving orgasm by any means, it was a sweet shivery orgasm that promised the world. When his lips surrounded the same nipple, and sucked it into his hot wet mouth, she had another, stronger orgasm.

  Lynn’s body was beginning to be drawn toward his suddenly nude body, her hips working, trying to come into contact with some part of his body… any part. Kostas was thorough and insistent, he was worshipping her body with his mouth the way he had worshipped it with his camera. There would be no hurried finish to what was happening to her. This was intensely personal, something no porn film could ever capture or imitate. Lynn surrendered to the experience totally.

  The broad, flat surface of his tongue sought her navel, and then traced the small patch of soft trimmed hair that framed the object of his efforts. Lyn’s widespread legs quivered as his soft lips worked at her outer and inner labia, the heat of his tongue and his breath leaving a fire of passion in their wake. The suspense Kostas had built was tremendous, but had not prepared her for his next surprise.

  Kostas stopped. He sat up and pulled her quivering body to his fully clothed one, cuddling her close to himself and whispering endearments to her in a language she didn’t understand. Lyn was very confused and disappointed, until with stray words and gestures, he made her understand (with the help of an application on his smart phone) that she had just been exposed to the appetizer, and that they were building to the next level. He managed to apologize for not being able to understand her, and to make her understand that he was not toying with her.

  Kostas went to his giant equipment bag and brought out a bottle of wine, a loaf of bread, a long, thin fork, and a clay jar of olives swimming in oil and herbs. He set them on a cloth atop the marble bench, and then brought out a small wedge of Kefalotiri cheese. A tiny, lipped tin tray and a glazed rough clay bowl were the last things he brought out. He carefully broke the bread into bite sized pieces, and then did the same with the cheese. Kostas used both hands to pour olive oil with herbs mixed in it from the covered clay jar into the lipped tin tray. He poured wine into the bowl.

  Kostas then showed her how to dip the barley bread into the wine, then pop it in her mouth followed by a bit of the cheese. When she finished chewing, he popped an olive into her mouth. Soon they were feeding each other, laughing when an olive or a bit of cheese escaped. Lyn had never felt happier or more at ease than she ever had in her life… which was weird.

  Later she would look back on this event as if it were a series of pictures in one of those “Soft Touch” cards so popular in the 70’s. A proper young southern belle, successful in her business, in the middle of the Bible Belt of Central Alabama… sitting naked in the open air in the middle of the day drinking wine and eating cheese with a naked foreign heathen. The only other taboo that she could have broken would have been if he had been a blood relative. There was one other taboo, but when she remembered thinking about i
t, she had broken that one!

  When the food and wine was gone they lay peacefully in the sun, watching the birds and listening to their songs. The somnolent buzz of the bees as they harvested the nectar of the honeysuckle would have made Lyn drowsy if she had not been brought to such a magnificent plateau of desire by this handsome stranger. Innocently she had laid her head in his lap while they watched the birds and Kostas had been idly twisting the unruly curls freed by the heat and humidity. When the thick column of flesh began to rise against the softness of her hair she felt it, and she shivered at the feel of it.

  Turning her head, her eyes fastened on the smooth skin and the thick veins that stood out in relief, then on the helmet shaped glans with its wide slit. She was a modern woman and she had read all the ladies magazines… she had dutifully followed their advice and learned to give head to her occasional lovers, but she didn’t like it at all and she usually had them finish on her breasts or inside her. The towering mystery so close to her eyes was different from the few penises she had seen in her life, but she couldn’t explain how it was different, it just was. Kastos was mysterious, even his sweat smelled different (probably his exotic diet), and his swollen cock rising from the thick black forest of pubic hair was, well… enticing.

  Without further thought, Lynn’s tongue flicked out and touched the stalk just above his balls. Her hand reached for the hefty orbs involuntarily it seemed, and suddenly her hands were full of the soft, heavy churning spheres. He even tasted exotic. She got to her knees and bent forward, the nipples of her breasts brushing the white marble of the bench, which was cool even in the heat of the day. Her free hand gripped his cock, and her lips slipped over the helmet, her tongue seeking and finding the slit in the top of his glans.

  She did not hurry, or jack his cock up and down as she had learned in the magazines. Lynn inhaled deeply the strange odor of his body, and applied herself to exploring and learning about his body as he had hers. Her mouth reluctantly left his erection, and began to explore her way upwards. The taut smooth skin of his belly was dry against her probing lips, and his belly button was so tight it was almost an outie. His stomach muscles rippled as she tongued it. His nipples had a light crisp ring of curly black hair that she teased before enveloping his nipple with her wet mouth, and she found herself shivering with him as her own nipples rubbed against his belly and his erection pressed against the soft skin of her belly.

  Lynn groaned as she sucked at his earlobe, because the tip of his erection was teasing the tender skin near her clit, and she couldn’t help writhing against the rigid symbol of his gender. She found herself gasping for breath as she kissed his masculine lips, sucking the breath from his lungs into her. His hands gripped the smooth round cheeks of her ass and he lifted her slightly, allowing the tip of his glans to rub lightly against her clit.

  Widening her eyes at the intimate contact, Lynn writhed against the probing tip, her body demanding release. She wanted to be close to him, she felt as if she needed to crawl up inside his body and curl up there. Just as Kostas started to press the tip between the lips of her pussy, Lynn suddenly felt that a simple fuck was not an intimate enough resolution to the very real fantasy he was bringing to life for her. She pulled her face back from his, her eyes hooding, and the look on her face must have looked very like the one Eve wore when she tempted Adam with the Apple in the Garden of Eden.

  Sinuously, Lynn lifted her upper body and curled around to where her face was inches from his quivering erection. Her thighs dropped and she felt his ears on her inner thighs, his hot breath hissing against the delicate flesh of her pussy. Staring at the head of Kostas’ cock as if she had never seen one before, she slowly, achingly enveloped it with her warm, wet mouth. She had reached the point where her gag reflex would usually cause her to expel an invading penis when she felt his tongue stab deeply into her mouth.

  Without any further encouragement, Lynn pushed his cock past the soft palate of the roof of her mouth and it sank into the depths of her throat. The excitement of feeling him fully inside her mouth and throat nearly caused her to go over the edge, but she kept her grip on reality until the milking muscles of her throat caused him to cum. When she felt the first jet of hot thick cum strike the back of her throat, she jammed her head down on him as hard as she could and allowed her own sweet orgasm to take her body anywhere it could. Reflexively she swallowed over and over again to keep from drowning in the flood of his essence, her mind reeling with her desire to capture it all.

  Kostas held himself rigid in his passionate out pouring, partly out of fear that he might hurt her, and partially out of fear that she would stop. Their mutual orgasm seemed to last forever, and that was just fine with both of them.

  They lay as they were, clinging to each other for what seemed an eternity to them, neither willing to move their mouths from each other. Lynn kept his cock inside her mouth even after it had deflated enough that it no longer occupied her throat. The feel of the flaccid organ filling just her mouth was enough to keep her nursing at it, relishing the intimacy of it all.

  Kostas had never felt so close to any woman as he did this odd and temperamental American woman who had suddenly captured his heart along with his body. There had been no dearth of Greek women to swallow his essence, many of them would have performed the most perverse of sexual acts with a jackass for his entertainment if he had been so inclined, just to get their hands on his checkbook. This golden treasure that he somehow still managed to hold atop him didn’t know or care about his family fortune, she thought he was a simple photographer. He had sensed that this intimate gift was not one she had given before, and he loved her for giving it to him freely.

  ~ ~ ~

  Konstantine Zaloumi, known to Lynn as Kostas the photographer, was dressed in a white Brioni three piece suit with a black silk Sulka tie and black Hermes wingtips. He stood in the offices of the realtor with his arm around a surprised Lynn Stalnaker. A dapper young man nearly as well dressed as his employer was shaking hands with Milton Forbes, Lynn’s boss, who was standing with his mouth open, stunned. The dapper young man had just informed him that Zaloumi Enterprises would meet the asking price for both the commercial property and the gardens with no further negotiations.

  Forbes was truly shocked, as he had asked considerably more than either property was worth in order to leave room to maneuver with what was known as one of the toughest negotiating teams on the planet… and he was about to pocket a commission check that was larger than his wildest of expectations. “There’s no catch? No conditons?” Forbes asked.

  “No,” the dapper young man replied, “other than that he take possession of the gardens property immediately. Mr. Zaloumi wishes to spend the rest of his life in residence there.” He smiled, “Mr. Zaloumi has purchased a program used by your military to teach languages quickly to your Special Forces and Diplomatic personnel so that he can learn English as quickly as possible.” The dapper young man’s eyes went to the pleasantly surprised eyes of Lynn Stalnaker. “Mr. Zaloumi says that as soon as he learns to speak well enough, he intends to ask Ms. Stalnaker to be his wife.”

  Overcome with emotion, Lynn turned her head to look Kostas in the eyes. “You tell Mr. Zalouimi that when he gets around to asking, the answer will be yes!” She kissed him as if they had just said “I do.”

  About Logan Woods

  You might not expect a former soldier and police officer to become one of erotica’s most consistently steamy writers, but Logan Woods did just that with his vivid imagination and ability to artfully describe explicit moments of passion and sexuality – and the enticing characters that inhabit such scenes. He’s ghostwritten for publishers for years but now is ready to make a name for himself, with Steam Books Erotica & Romance and beyond.

  If his writing career isn’t enough to prove he’s equal parts brain and brawn, Logan Woods also holds a B.S. in Resource Management with a minor in Economics and Military Science.

  And more from Logan Woods:

 
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  CAN I TOUCH IT?

  Natalie's husband, Evan, is in the doghouse again, but like always, he has a plan to get back into her good graces. Natalie thinks she knows what's up, but nothing could prepare her for the night Evan has planned for her: that it might involve a decadent secret club of wealthy young sexy couples; that it might involve another handsome stranger; and that it might involve making a fantasy of hers a reality...

  Check out these and more at steam-books.com!

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