The Older Man

Copyright ©1999,2005 CaitsBasement.com
No duplication or transmission, whole or in part, without prior written permission.

"Abandon comes slowly - women need time to lose control." Showtime's Red Shoe Diaries

They're co-workers. He's older, she's delicate-spirited. But on the surface, she appears rock solid. Unapproachable. Untouchable.

For him, it's a game of planning, carefully bringing his prey to a state of comfort.

She accompanies him to a drink. then to another another evening. then to dinner. she is comforted by his company. He likes to make her feel comforted. Paternal instinct, he tells her, laughing. She knows she's protected when she's around him.

The get-togethers move to his house; meetings over candlelight dinner. Always the gentleman, he never asks for even so much as a kiss. Late night discussions in front of a fire. More late nights, she's cuddling against him. He holds her, enjoying the feel of her body.

The late night discussions become silent nights of cuddling before the fire. She tells him how comforting it is to be held by him, how much she enjoys his company. Little by little, one night burns into the next, and cuddles turn to him caressing the back of her neck.

Nights later, when she lazily responds and her breathing changes, his touch migrates to the front of her neck. Later her shoulders. Later her collar. Little by little, night after night, he excites her.

It becomes her secret island - She looks forward to their times together, the excitement he brings her. The innocent touch. The pleasure without a demand for something in return. Months go by this way. Innocently.

As the times they meet become a regular habit, little by little his caresses venture further. Sometimes the erotic is so much, that when he tries a little more, a little further, she resists - whispering 'no'. The gentleman, he retreats an inch back, taking his time. Standing his ground. He builds her relaxation so that the next time he tries a little more, she protests a little less.

When he moves his hand further still, she gently protests again.

He's patient. Gentle. Like a glacier. Moving imperceptibly toward his goal.

Over time, kissing is slowly added to the mix, which inflames him. First it was her neck. Then the back of her ear... Then her cheek. Each evening, a little bit further. Each hour, a centimeter more explored. Excited, she allows the progress, until pushing him away when she senses he's getting too 'into it'. Or when it becomes too much for her. She can't risk losing control!

One night, as she whispers 'no', he backs off, but suddenly his lust gets the best of him. He doesn't want to stop. He moves in to gently kiss her again, but when she tries to push him off, he ignores her words and listens to her body. Her breathing is heavy, her resistence is weak. When she whispers "no" again, and pushes her hand gently against him, he slowly, firmly takes her hands and pins them above her head. He kisses her - more firmly than ever before, taking. He's had enough of 'no'. Holding her arms down, she begins to writhe slightly, her body undulating beneath him. It excites him more. Pressing his mouth to hers, she moans beneath him. He can almost feel her heart beating faster. He looks at her...so beautiful...so vulnerable...he wants to devour her, to possess her.

The beast inside him snapping loose, he suddenly loses self-control.

Pinning her beneath his kiss, now fitful and hard, he takes a handkerchief from his back pocket and binds her wrists. She protests, a tense whisper telling him to stop....she squirms underneath him. Bound, he continues stealing kisses and he ignores her pleas. With one hand he can now hold down her two. He enjoys the view of her body squirming, the undulating of her legs under his cock. She's trying to get away, he likes the way she moves.

When she threatens to scream, he covers her mouth and, in a whisper close to her ear, he threatens to gag her if she doesn't behave. He tries to shush her, to calm her, to tell her to relax. He promises he won't hurt her. He just wants her to cooperate. He won't hurt her if she cooperates. Wide-eyed, she agrees, and stops speaking.

He kisses her gingerly, keeping her wrists over her head - he kisses the corner of her mouth, her chin, her cheek...taking his time. He takes her lips into his mouth, tasting her, relishing her. He drinks in each inch of her skin, the softness, the warmth, the scent of her. Like an artist, he paints her flesh slowly with his lips.

Her breathing quickens again at his touch. She feels herself slipping. Can't let that happen. Must maintain the professional image.

She begins to plead more frantically with him now. The animal in him reacts to the mounting panic and excitement he smells in her -- he presses his weight on her to pin her, takes another handkerchief from his back pocket; he gags her.

He returns to kissing her gingerly, holding her arms over her head - the corner of her mouth, her chin, her cheek...taking his time. She closes her eyes and turns her head away from him, whimpering softly. He kisses her neck, her collar, too slowly enjoying her body - every moment - every pore. He slowly moves down the middle of her chest, taking his time, nuzzling his cheeks slowly between her heaving mounds "So soft...your skin...so beautiful....so feminine..."

Wanting more, wanting to look, wanting to touch, he moves to prop himself on one knee, keeping her leg straddled and pinned in place between his. He then uses his free hand to trace delicate lines on her chin, neck, jawline, collarbone. The paintbrush traces lines, patterns, never progressing too quickly, appreciating the texture of each stroke.

As he slowly progresses his strokes lower, she shakes her head more frantically, wide-eyed, her eyes pleading with him not to go further. He stares her in the eye as his free hand unbuttons one button, then another, then another.

He enjoys watching her squirm. He enjoys prolonging the tension by taking his time, feeling her writhe against him.

He moves his hand much lower, above the fabric, slowly massaging her ribcage just above her belly. He feels her thin waistline. A waist he could snap in one of his hands. Slowly his hand creeps higher, torturously moving closer...then closer...then closer still...to her breast. He watches the effect, how each millimeter's movement creates changes in her breathing, changes in the fluttering of her eyes.

When his hand strokes the full bottom of her breast, she gasps and jolts, and he realizes something... "What have we here?" He whispers. He moves his hand, slowly, further still, cupping the outside of her breast. Kneading it. She moans and writhes, but her response is different now. It's the moan of lust. He moves even more slowly. The rhythm of her writhing matches the rhythm of his hand. Her eyes are closed and her head moves heavily. She whimpers as he touches her, saying how lovely her body is, how soft, how beautiful. How long he's been longing to touch her this way.

He lets her go, suddenly, as though he's horrified at his own behavior - what am I doing? Look what you do to me, I'm so sorry, I couldn't help myself. I didn't mean it. He frees her wrists, throwing his handkerchief aside onto the floor. She slowly backs away from him, then suddenly buttons her buttons and runs out of his apartment...him apologizing all the way.

Days later, at work, she's still avoiding his eyes. Finally he corners her. "I'm sorry! I have to talk to you." She's saddened, distant. He apologizes fretfully, says he lost himself. He confesses his love of her company. He explains that it got to his head. He thinks the wine got the best of him...it'll never happen again. He promises - it won't happen again. He hands her a box - she opens it suspiciously. It's a thick golden bracelet and a beautiful ring - a peace offering, he says. No strings attached. A gift to apologize. He says it's a token of how she's wrapped him around her finger.

A week passes, she feels guilty at the generous gift. She knows that really he's such a wonderful man...and she misses his touch. She feels pity as he wistfully smiles each day, passing her, and silently returns to his work.

She misses him.

She goes to him one day and shyly asks if she can stop by again. She confesses that she misses being held by him, the comfort of his arms. He eagerly agrees. She makes him promise she'd be safe with him. He agrees. She tells him he can kiss her, but he has to promise it'd stop there. He agrees.

That night, she cuddles silently with him again. She turns and kisses him, then returns to cuddling. He caresses her neck again. She breathes a sigh of relief. He remembers their game - his hand moves further, she whispers "no". He moves lower to her collarbone, she whispers, "no" and gently takes his hand in hers. He presses against her, staying his course, not hard, just firmly enough to avoid her resistence. He whispers, "what are you afraid of, you know I won't hurt you."

She moans softly, but she still holds his hand, unable to stop his strength. He moves down her arm, brushing against the outside of her breast. She gasps, then tries to hide her reaction. "Relax. You're safe with me. I won't hurt you."

Then he moves to unbutton a button. She resists. "Relax...don't worry, I won't do anything. I promise." She whimpers, he kisses her, and unbuttons three buttons as she tries to push her hands frailly against him.

He senses that she's excited, and he decides to use it to his advantage.

"Shhhh....I won't hurt you. I won't do anything, don't worry." He puts a hand on her ribcage. She sighs. He kisses her neck, her collar, her cleavage. She tries to stop him. "I won't do anything...don't worry...you're safe with me..." She relaxes slightly, and he uses the opportunity to move a hand to her breast. She gasps, writhes, he holds his position.

She whimpers and begs him in a whisper to stop. He brushes a finger over her nipple, and she gasps again, suddenly bolting to stop him. He stays his ground and slides his finger back and forth across her nipple, and her struggling weakens softly. "Don't worry, just enjoy it....your blouse is so soft...YOU feel so soft...so beautiful....I promise, I won't do anything...don't be afraid..." When she relaxes further, he caresses both nipples, making her breathing heavier, harder. "Shhhh...that's right.....just relax...."

Gently he parts the blouse, and when she groggily moves to stop him, he uses his other hand to caress her breast outside the fabric. She melts in his hands, and although she protests softly, her protests weaken each time he caresses her. Her breathing is shallow and quick. He kisses the the fullness of her exposed breast....his finger sliding over the top of the other. He whispers he'll be good...he won't do anything....don't be afraid.....then he kisses more closely to her bare nipple. Then a closer kiss...she starts to tense, and he shusshs her. "Just a little more, that's all...that's all..just a little further.." and he slides even closer to her nipple.

Her back arches, yet her hands push against him weakly. He sees her eyes are closed, heavy with lust. He decides he will use her pleasure to get his way with her. Enjoying the smell of her skin, the softness of her breast, he suckles her nipple and she gasps, moans, and tries to resist him again.

"I won't do anything....mmmm......shhhh...don't worry....relax.....mmmmmm.......just a little - just a little...just let me taste a little ooooooo mmmmmmm so soft mmmmmm so beautiful."

He feasts on her nipple, hardening in his pants, enjoying the reaction he makes her have. She's powerless to resist him in this state, so vulnerable, so aroused she's gasping...her arms all but fall to her sides. He feels her alternate -- pulling him in, pushing him aaway....she's fighting herself....

He moves the cloth and kisses her other nipple, gently fingering the first. Gasping, she writhes and whimpers, "NOoooooo", but her struggles are futile. "Shhhh don't worry, I won't do anything....don't you like this? I know you do....it's ok....give in.....just feel it......oooo you are so beautiful....soooo beautiful.....mmmmm...." Nuzzling her nipple weakens her more, and she rubs her legs together, whispering, "Please, stop.....don't..."

Her pleas are unconvincing.

There he stops...and he lets her go. She's sluggish...blurry eyed...unfocused....she kisses him gently, almost hungrily, as she goes to leave.

At the door, she turns and smiles at him.

He knows she'll be back.


The next night is a a repeat performance of the last, but this time he knows his focus. Spending more time arousing her, she resists less, before long he's able to remove her blouse, her beautiful skin and pale breasts bare before him. He presses his hardness against her leg, he's straining in his pants, but he chooses to enjoy the tension. He chooses not to pursue his urges.

Again he lets her go.


The next time she spends with him is yet another repeat performance, but after he liberates her pale breasts from the confining cotton, he takes it a step further. He gently holds her wrists back and out over her shoulders... When she resists, he soothes her, kisses her.... Then all at once, while kissing her, soothing her, getting her resistence down, he pulls the hidden scarfs' loops out from the corners, and loops them over both wrists, pulling them tight. She squirms. She panics slightly. She whispers to him to let her go.

"Shhh....I won't do anything....I won't hurt you...just a little more...just a little more...." She's wearing a short skirt...he kisses her belly, her thighs....

Suddenly his lust realizes he has total control, that she couldn't leave even if she wanted. The animal, fully awakened, roars.

He kisses and caresses her, arousing her again, and when she gasps he moves to gently gags her....he says it's to muffle her moans. She protests, but when he manipulatively kisses her and caresses her breasts, he whispers to her again to let him...

First she's silent. He plays her body like an instrument, carefully caressing, carefully appreciating each note, carefully building her crecendo. He whispers to her again, "Let me do it. Tell me I can..." Overwhelmed with the erotic tension, she agrees.

Now fully aware of his artful mastery, he teases her, kissing her, tells her to allow him to tie her ankles...she hesitates and moans...he promises he'll be good, he won't hurt her....then again building her tension, she weakly agrees.


Now, spread eagle and topless before him....he knows he'll have her...tonight.

His body above her....gagged....tied in place...he kisses her skin, he takes his time to look at her body...then he unzips his pants.... Her eyes widen in fear. "I can't help it, " he gasps. "You're so beautiful....you're so beautiful...I've wanted you for so long....I can't stop myself.....I can't...."

He slides her panties aside -- they are soaked....drenched...and he slides himself DEEP into her...HARD......she arches her neck, her eyes closed tightly...she gasps, then moans in pleasure. She's so tight...so hot....so wet....

As she regains her senses, she writhes against her bonds.

Then ever so slowly he pulls out again, then thrusts back into her......her struggles freeze as she gasps again. He smiles. He knows that through pleasure he can weaken her defenses. He wants to make her weak....wants to make her cum...hard....again and again...wants to make her beg for him....to ache for him, in spite of her "professional shell".

And then, he thinks - the motion of his body in time with his thoughts - yes then when he brings her to beg for him, then he'll take all he wants, for as long as he wants....fucking her hard and fast...losing himself to the moment....

He has his way with her...

Finally, on the brink, he pulls out of her and pours himself onto her belly. Slightly calmer, he gently kisses her thighs, gently moving higher, reaching her softest folds. They are wet with pleasure, and he licks her to arouse her again.

But suddenly, just when her response increases to a fever, he stops, unties her legs, and removes her gag. She's silent. He unties her wrists and delicately hands her her blouse. He quietly tells her that if she returns, this can be their secret. He promises he'll tell no one at the office. He tells her he adores her...he wants to comfort her.... He kisses her softly, caressing her belly. Will she come back? He kisses her again. Weakly she agrees.

And she does....