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“He gives you a tender kiss
And you can’t even hear them no more –
All the voices of choices
Now only one road remains…”
Strangers in a Car
The partygoers from the office had moved outside leaving just him and her in the living room of her house.
They were a generation apart. He was 42 and she 21. He sat in an overstuffed chair sipping Jameson’s Irish whiskey and smoking non-filtered Camels. She laid across from him on the sofa smoking a joint.
She took a toke and giggled as she released the smoke. “So. Here we are. What are you thinking about over there?”
He took a sip of his drink, a drag from his Camel, blew the smoke out slowly in a blue cloud and smiled. “You. Me. Things.”
She laughed; tossed a pillow from the sofa at him. “You know, ever since I’ve known you, sometimes you can be so full of BULLSHIT!”
“Well, granted. But try this on your bullshit meter, missy. I’m thinking how beautiful you are. I’m thinking that if I could just touch the soft skin between your breasts,” he took another drag, “…bury my nose in your hair…I think that the weight of the world would lift from me for a infinite moment in time.”
She rolled her eyes, toked. “Oh, yeah; right. That’s a big 10 on the bullshit meter all right.” But she looked back at him and he started to talk again. He talked quietly, in an odd mood.
Maybe it was the weed. Maybe it was her desires stirring. Maybe it was the fact that no one had talked to her like this. Whatever the case, she fell into his mood.
“To touch my lips to the back of your neck; to slowly breathe into your ear.
“To hold your chin in the palm of my hand, my thumb caressing your lips. You’d look at me but you’d say nothing. You’d slowly part your lips and slowly and gently I’d push my thumb in. You’d suck it…I’d close my eyes and hold my breath from the ecstasy.”
His voice fell silent.
He took another cigarette from his case. Slowly he tamped it down on his watch face. Slowly he flicked his Zippo to life. He looked out the front window; took another sip of his drink.
She sat transfixed. She didn’t laugh. Her breathing increased ever so slightly and started to shallow out.
“To caress your throat, your collar bones, that soft delicate place where they meet. To heft a breast and feel its firm softness and its weight, stroke the nipple. Pull it between my thumb and forefinger. Hear you breathe in at the touch.
“Watch as you closed your eyes. ataşehir escort bayan Maybe feel you shift your weight, moving your hips forward trying to find something to rub your sex against.”
He fell silent again. Took a drag, a sip, looked at the floor. Maybe he was beginning to feel self-conscious. He was older. He was not an attractive man – or, as several female friends told him, politely – he was “unconventionally handsome.” He started to take Viagra on his 41st birthday.
After a long moment, and to her surprise, she found herself speaking.
“Uh, so, what else? You know, like, what else were you thinking…about us – uh, about me?” She felt awkward. None of her male friends had talked to her like this before.
He smiled, slowly blew smoke toward the ceiling. “The softness and slickness and wetness between your legs; the scent of your sex. What it would be like to press my nose in it.
“To taste you, smell you, run my fingers between the slick folds. Feel you move against me.”
And then suddenly he was standing in front of her, holding out his hand.
“I want to be with you.”
She was breathing in shallow, quick breaths. Her face and chest felt hot and flushed.
She looked up at him and took his hand.
She led him upstairs to her room.
They stood by her bed, facing each other.
He reached for the bottom of her T-shirt, lifted it. She raised her arms.
The shirt came off.
She looked at him, waited.
He touched the soft valley between her breasts, trailed his fingertips down to her belly to the top of her jeans.
He closed his eyes, breathed deeply. He barely whispered, “My God.”
She shivered at his touch. Giggled nervously, quietly.
“Take off your bra.”
She reached behind her, undid the clasp then bent her shoulders forward. The bra slid down her arms and then her breasts were naked to him.
Her gaze followed his hand as it came to gently cup a breast, thumb the nipple. She closed her eyes as the sensation spread through her. She felt her sex respond. Then she opened her eyes and looked at him, silently saying, “What next?”
He sat on the side of her bed. Took her by the hips and positioned her directly in from of him. Her hips were so slim, so delicate, her belly so achingly flat and beautiful. She offered no resistance.
“Take off your jeans.”
She fumbled nervously with the button then pulled her jeans down to her ankles and stepped out of them. She stood before escort kadıköy him in only her panties.
He took her panties at each hip and very slowly slid them down her hips. The first tug downward was only millimeters; he leaned into her and kissed the skin at the top of her belly, slowly breathing out on the sensitive skin at the end of each kiss. With each downward movement of the panties came another kiss, another breath, down her belly.
Then he was at her mons and the soft brown hair that covered her sex. The panties were rolled on down her thighs to her ankles. He gently gripped her by her smooth thighs, right below the inner hollow that lead to the entry to her sex. Gently pushed his nose into her sex hair and inhaled deeply.
A wonderful chill ran through her. Her sex felt fuller and hotter with blood and lubricants flowing there.
She wanted to be filled.
His slowness was maddening.
He sat back, admired her in full.
She didn’t feel her customary desire to cover herself. She felt strangely relaxed, at ease. To have this man stare at her beauty was something she had never experienced.
“Touch yourself. Slide a finger through your slit.”
She giggled quietly, “Uh, no way, ugh!”
He took her hand, pressed it to her sex lips. She did not resist. Her middle finger went between her swollen lips quickly.
She watched every movement of her hand in his; felt it too. Wondering what would be next.
He withdrew her hand, held it in front of his face, and admired the dew that had accumulated on it.
He brought it to his nose.
He took it gently in his mouth and sucked its length.
She felt lightheaded.
He stood, took her head in his hands, his fingers tangling in her long hair and gently kissed her forehead.
She felt him tremble.
She searched his face, whispered, “What?”
He bent to her ear. “You are so incredibly desirable; so beautiful. I want to lick you; taste you. Lay down.”
She positioned herself in the middle of the bed. He found her robe at the foot of the bed. He took the terry cloth belt from the robe and knelt on the bed near her chest.
“Put her hands above your head.”
She complied without question or hesitation. None of her lovers had ever tied her. She had never even considered it.
He tied her hands firmly to the headboard, ran his fingertips down her arms to the soft, sensitive flesh of her underarms and then he trailed his fingertips down bostancı escort the sides of her body to her hips.
She closed her eyes, stretched her body under his touch like a cat. If she could have purred she might have. The sensations were so blissful.
He stood and undressed.
She watched him silently.
He was not attractive to her but her desire was so high now. She wanted him. She wanted to feel what he would do to her. She wanted some release for her body. It was crazy.
It was so crazy.
He lay beside her. Every kiss, every caress was gentle, slow. Her skin was in love. It longed for the next touch of fingers or lips. Her nipples longed for the strong suction of his mouth followed by the flick of his tongue and the gentle grip and scrape of his teeth.
She lost track of time.
But she became inpatient. He had not touched her sex again and it was congested and throbbing.
“Touch me down there. Come on.”
He was sucking a breast, rolling the opposite nipple between his thumb and forefinger. He didn’t look up. “Be quiet,” was all he said before he applied his mouth again.
He moved to her belly with fingertips, lips and tongue; the sensitive skin in the hollows of her hips, her bikini line and the line of soft skin right above her mons where her softly coarse sex hairs gave way to the naked sensitive skin of her lower belly.
She was panting, her legs spread.
He could smell her moisture.
Hot, clean sweat mingled with the sweetness of her musk. He kissed her at the top of her mons, burying his nose again in the hair; looked down at her slit.
The brown hairs were dewy with moisture; her clit hood protruded from the hairs and the margins of her sex lips. He touched her there with his tongue. She shivered violently and moaned, “Oh, shit, oh SHIT….”
He moved between her legs, stroked and nuzzled the most sensitive flesh in the hollows of her thighs. He parted her sex lips with his thumbs and made love to her sex with his mouth.
He shifted position and slowly slid a finger inside her as he continued to lick, nuzzle and suck.
She became increasingly vocal as she humped herself against his face, finding her rhythm, her body stretched with her hands tied above her head.
Every nerve felt alive.
She lost her rhythm, gave several cries and then held her body rigid, sex pressed to his face as she felt the orgasm spread through her.
He could feel the ripples of her orgasm start, branch out then subside.
She was panting quietly now. Her body relaxed. He kissed the delicate skin around her mons and hips and then he made a trip back to her inner thighs.
He moved to mount her.
She smiled up at him and then closed her eyes.
To be continued…
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