Too drunk to drive, we hail a cab, and find ourselves suddenly silent in the backseat. My breath catches in my throat, and my mind is racing as fast as the taxi. Instead, I nervously reach for her hand, fingers loosely lacing in hers. I dare only peek out of the corner of my eye, so I can't see her reaction exactly, but she doesn't pull away. Even though my hands are slightly numb, I can still tell that much.
When we arrive, she kicks off her sandals, throws her purse on the floor, and unties her hair in one fluid motion. Her apartment is small and messy, which Bethany quickly apologizes for. "I've been working double shifts all week! I usually only have the time to strip, and fall into bed at the end of the night."
"Strip, eh?" I tease, ready to stop all this talking. "Now who's flirting?"
"I have no idea what you're talking about," she smiles coyly. "I'm just telling you about perfectly mundane activities, and you're the one who keeps dreaming up fantastic circumstances..."
"CirCUMstances? How am I expected to react when you talk like this?"
"Haha," she laughs. "You're ridiculous!"
"RiDICKulous."
"Stop it!" She teases, trying to breathe in between giggling gasps.
"Well, what can I say? It's hard to keep my mind out of the gutter, looking at you," I say, letting her watch me ogle her a moment. Her chest heaves from laughing, breasts bouncing with every breath. Her neck invites me to taste it, reflecting its soft creaminess in the lamplight. I remember the smell of her soap, and long to bury my face in her skin. My heart pounds in my ears as I step towards her, my pelvis leading the way.
She lets out a long sigh, finally catching her breath. "Oh, really."
"Really," I counter, looking at Bethany's beautiful blue eyes, almost close enough to touch noses. I loosely lock my hands in hers again, and lean slightly forward, eyes cast down at her soft, succulent lips. I want to feel them on me; feel her small mouth open on my skin; I want it so badly that I feel myself beginning to salivate. But, that's not the only thing becoming wet.
"I want to kiss you," I inform her, suddenly solemn. She doesn't utter an answer, but instead her lips part, subtly smiling, so that only the corners of her mouth curl. I feel her sweet breath on my face, as she slowly leans in, and softly places her plump, pouty lips against mine. Her hands come alive simultaneously, grasping my hands in hers, as she opens her mouth, encouraging me in. I delicately reciprocate the pressure, politely parting my lips as if asking her tongue to dance.
Then, I feel my pelvis take the lead as before, pressing impatiently against her, and feeling her warmth through my jeans. Her hair flutters in the breeze from electric fan, and I feel a similar wave through my body, intensity spreading through the pleasant pressure on my pussy. My mouth moves from her lips to her warm, creamy neck, and I devour it. Her fresh, subtle scent surrounds me. The soft, breathy moans in my ear make my pussy tingle further, muscles tensing and coming alive as if they're reaching out to her, wanting her for their own. I want her to remove her shirt, lifting it to feel her soft sides, and she pulls it over her head, hair catching momentarily, then dramatically cascading back over her shoulders, like it was choreographed.
Her bound breasts are begging to be let free, barely contained in a cotton sports bra. I kiss the cramped cleavage between them, letting my tongue slide sexily in the crevice, having never had the pleasure of touching a girl with breasts this big. The thin material allows me to fondle her nipples with my thumbs as my mouth wanders back to her neck, then back to her wet, wanting mouth. We kiss again, as I venture to knead a large breast in my small grip, but I quickly retreat back to the nipple, requiring two of my hands to properly fondle just one. I remove my own shirt, savouring her warm skin against mine for the first time. I feel a shiver, I crave the warmth so intensely, and long to bathe myself in it, wrapping myself completely in her. I sandwich our breasts together, our torsos, even thighs, overpowering her slightly so that I back her towards the edge of the bed, inch by inch. My tongue boldly plunges into her small mouth, as if pointing the way.
Bethany sits under me, breath laboured, and I struggle to remove my jeans, bending over her and shimmying them over my hips, kicking them quickly to the floor. She lay back, lifting her hips to remove her skirt, and I take a place beside her, each in our bra and underwear, now. Hers a sports bra and cotton, full bottomed panties, and I in a mismatched lace set. I glance downward to make sure my thong isn't soaked through with wetness, my face flushed prematurely. My eyes turn to her natural loveliness, while she turns towards me, on her side, accentuating a shapely hip. One of my hands traces her outline, from her soft shoulder, down her delicate arm, to the valley of her waist. She smiles seductively, and reaches out to do the same.
The contact of her hand through my hair, relaxes me so that I melt into the bed under her touch. But, I soon brace myself against the sheets, as if using it for leverage. She moves slightly over me, and I close my eyes, letting her hand drift over my skin, now goose pimply with anticipation. I feel my pussy straining again, as if it has a mind of its own, begging to be touched. Her hand lightly moves over me, almost hovering with sensual energy, pausing momentarily over the parts that make my back arch into it. My nipples noticeably harden through my bra, and I reach around to unclasp it. Free and anticipating, my small tits try to find her elusive grasp. I remove my underwear as well, wanting to restrict myself no further.
She moves over me, suddenly kissing me on the mouth with loose, luscious lips, and pressing her feminine figure into mine. My knee lifts, my leg wrapping around her, and pulling her into me. I feel my shaved pussy smear against her hip, my bare folds so sharply sensitive that I almost pull away. She pushes her cotton underwear down only partially, down to her shapely thighs, wanting to feel herself against me as well. I feel her small, blonde bush straddle my thigh, and my nipples freshly harden, rubbing against the thin material of her bra. Our lips meet, parted in pleasure, breathing and moaning into each other's mouths. I loosen my grip on the sheets, and grab her body instead. Cupping her round ass in my hand, I pull her pelvis against me, my wetness covering her now glistening hip. I lift my knee even further, sliding my clit over her silky skin. Her legs remain pinned by her panties, but she continues to press her trimmed bush against me, softly moaning into the sheets by my shoulder.
I straddle her, suddenly wanting her very badly, and I know exactly what it is that I want. The two times I've slept with women, I've been accompanied by Mark, and he was usually between us. But, not for lack of desire for the women, or any selfishness on Mark's part. I kissed them enthusiastically, played with their breasts, even enjoyed touching their pussies, one even to orgasm. I think I was too shy to go one step further, though, especially with someone watching. For whatever reason, the assertive pickup artist disappeared once we got to the bedroom, despite my aching curiosity. So it has remained, that I've always wanted to know what it was like to go down on a woman. And, I think to myself, tonight's the night I'm going to find out.
I peel her bra up over her sizeable tits, and they fall attractively to the sides. I follow them, happy at the chase, moving back and forth to suck and flick each nipple with my tongue, in turn. Bethany's hand goes to my hair again, which has an extreme calming effect on me. I move southerly, kissing her ribs, down her hip bones, to the crevice beside her trimmed blond mound. I make believe I can smell her already, and perhaps I can. I knead her mons with my hand, as I continue to kiss her creamy thighs, and I can feel her pressing back into it. I position myself below her, trying to stay fluid in motion, kissing her inner thighs, and she quite naturally opens her legs. I lick the precious pale skin of her thigh now, as my palm presses against her fleshy mound. From here, I take a moment to look at her. Similar to mine, but different, folds once tucked neatly below her, now pretty and puffy, pink and engorged for me. I lick my lips, and venture for her clit. My hand assists, pulling upwards and pressing against pubic bone, just how I like it. The tip of my tongue tickles the most delicate of folds near the top. She moans, encouraging me. Little does she know, I need very little.
I bat the hardening little bead with the tip of my tongue, close my lips around it, give a little bit of suction, lick it with a wide, flat tongue. She arches her back, exposing her tits to me, and grips the sheets. I moan without realizing it. Her taste is creamy and mild, like an extension of the rest of her skin, and I feel myself getting wet pleasing her. My hand drifts to her opening, finding that she is streaming, too. I tease her with my fingers, and her hips start to tilt, thrusting towards my hand, telling me something. Her moisture begins to coat my face, and I relish it. I lick downwards, mopping up the liquid and depositing it on her aching clit. She continues to strain for my touch, and I give her what she wants. I lay my fingers at her opening, and her fluids seem to draw me in. Warm, swollen, and succulent, her walls hug my two fingers, until I find her soft, spongy g-spot.
Liquid from my mouth and her pussy stream onto the sheets, coating my hand in the process, and I imagine my pussy dripping at the same time. I massage her g-spot with the tips of my fingers, and my pelvis yearns for the same thing. Suddenly, she grabs my hair, and I know this is it. I lick her with vigour, careful to keep a steady rhythm, pulling on her hood, and wiggling the tips of my fingers inside. For a moment, I sympathetically feel the familiar tug on my own g-spot, and I realize that I'm humping the corner of the bed. I groan, and she accompanies me, buckling down and pulling my face towards her. She breathes for a moment, then tenses again, pushing and bearing down on my hand. Then, in one glorious moment, she cries out, curling forward. I feel her pussy pulsate, twitching, and I wait until she's stopped before withdrawing. Flopping backwards, and sighing, I carefully remove my fingers, and discreetly wipe my face on the bedspread. She breathes heavily, and giggles softly, looking at me.
But, it's not over.
