IX

After walking through the bedroom door, Richie pressed Frédérique’s back against the wall in front of it and between kisses he said:

“You know…there’s only…one rule…in my room…”

“Huh?” she whimpered.

“No pants”

He started kissing her again and gently descended her until she had both feet on the floor. He kneeled on one knee and kissed her stomach right below her belly button as he lowered the zipper of her trousers. When the task was completed, Richie placed his hands on each side of her hips, then gently grabbed the fabric and pulled down to ease them over her hips, the trousers instantaneously slid down her legs and landed on the floor, uncovering her white boyshorts. Frédérique grabbed Richie’s hips to stabilize herself, took one of her feet out and with the other one she kicked the trousers away from her.

They started kissing slowly, stopping to really savor each other’s taste this time. Richie had placed his right hand on the wall and was now reaching with his left hand to take off his right shoe, then he changed hands to work on his left shoe. As soon as he put his bare left foot back on the floor, Frédérique slid her hands under the waist of Richie’s jeans and pulled them down over his hips. The jeans fell swiftly to the floor. She giggled and spoke in an almost inaudible voice, as if she was pointing out something embarrassing that he hadn’t noticed:

“You’re not wearing any underwear”

Richie picked up the amusement in her voice. : “Um…no? Is that…a problem?”, he asked with a seductive voice - humoring her - and placed a small kiss on the corner of her lips.

“No…it’s just…now THAT is a hazardous weapon”, she said as demurely as possible.

Richie cluckled first and then added: "Then handle it with care, baby". He went back to devouring her mouth for a few seconds before pulling away. He put his forehead against Frédérique’s head.

He spoke in a low, secretive voice now, his tone wasn’t of amusement:

“You know…- he was choosing his words carefully - …I haven’t…”. He sighed, and started following her delicate jawline with the tip of his index finger. “What I mean is…I’m safe”.

“What do y---“

“Shhh”, he interrupted her: “I wanna feel you, Fred. I wanna feel YOU, with nothing getting in my way”.

Oh.

In Frédérique’s mind, “safe” could mean two things. As for one, she knew she hadn’t slept with another man since her boyfriend of 3 years and a half had left her more than a year ago - Has it been THAT long? -, but how could she prove it to him? How could Richie trust her? He, instead, had been in the public eye for almost 3 decades: right now she was willing to let her trust rest on that fact.

As for the other one, they were both safe. Of course.

As her mind reflected, she tried to buy herself some time by kissing him, but then before she knew it they were both all over each other again and stumbling towards the bed. She had barely finished resting her back on the bed when, with a swift movement, Richie peeled of her boyshorts and then crawled on top of her. His hand snaked in between the two of them, while he kissed her neck. Finding her ready for him was his undoing.

Frédérique whinced when Richie entered her with one hard, quick movement.

The exquisite mixture of pleasure and pain triggered her orgasm: she whimpered repeatedly as she let it take over her, her inner muscles squeezed his shaft so tight that as much as he wanted to, he couldn’t even move inside her. Richie stared into Frédérique’s eyes, there was no doubt about what they were saying: Join me. That was all he needed to let himself go.

A few moments later, Richie had collapsed on top of Frédérique, resting his head right beside hers, reddish marks had appeared after she had finally managed to loosen the grip of his back, sweat still dripped from Richie’s back and made a tiny puddle on the small of his back. Richie’s hair was completely wet and Frédérique’s braid could barely be recognized as one.