Kirsten glided across her living room to the stereo. She slipped an Indigo Girls cassette into the tape deck, set the volume low, and pressed play. She turned back to me, flipped her long blonde hair back over her shoulder, and sat next to me on the sofa. Instinctively, we wrapped our arms around each other, drawing ourselves together, and letting our mouths touch softly.
We met the week before. She was a waitress and I was an obnoxious partier celebrating a friend's 30th birthday. She had immediately caught my attention, with long flowing blonde hair and light blue eyes. She was thin with long legs and a tiny round behind. We flirted a little throughout the night and with an unusual show of courage I asked for her number. To my surprise she willing gave it.
I called her only once. We chatted a long time, discovering that each us of recently had ended a marriage. Mine after ten years. Hers after six months. We set a date for the following Friday.
Now, with the music playing low, I explored the smooth skin of her neck. I gently sucked and nibbled as she cooed with pleasure. I let my mouth wander up to her ear, nibbled the soft lobe, and swirled my tongue lightly inside. She moaned quietly and deeply then turned her head to meet my lips with hers. Our tongues danced together between our open mouths. I closed my eyes and let her kisses carry me away.
I had been anxious and excited as I drove to pick Kirsten up, but she quickly put me at ease. I slipped Afghan Whigs into the CD player and drove to my favorite Italian Restaurant. Dinner was a perfect combination of excellent food and great conversation. Afterward we drove to a nearby club for some dancing. Well, Ok, I'm not much of a dancer, but I was a sport and danced a set of songs, ending with the obligatory slow song, embrace, and kiss. Later, when I drove her home, she invited me in for a quick cup of coffee. Neither of us had a cup.
With my head already swimming from her kisses, I let me hands explore her tiny body. I ran my fingers through her silky blonde hairs, then I lightly traced her jaw line and neck. She was wearing a sweater and I felt the softness of the yarn over her chest, to each small firm breast, and over her flat stomach. She responded with more deep kisses and exploration of her own. Her long thin fingers deftly unbuttoned the top of my shirt, giving her access to my chest underneath.
We spent nearly two hours on the sofa, locked in an embrace, and intoxicated with our passion. I pulled off her sweater to revel a lacy black bodysuit underneath. She slipped out of her tight jeans allowing me to massage her long shapely legs. I shed my shirt and tee so she could run her hands freely over my chest and tummy; occasionally she'd slip her fingertips under the waist of my jeans, testing the tip of my hardness.
She turned to me slightly and lifted her knee. I ran my hand lovingly over her leg, enjoying the smoothness of her skin, and feeling the subtle curves. My hand reach high to the bodysuit and I slipped underneath the garment where I could fill my palm with her tiny firm butt.
Kirsten rubbed and squeezed me through my jeans; my arousal aroused her; her arousal aroused me. She unbuckled my belt and buttoned my jeans then lowered the zipper. This allowed her to slip her hand inside to grab me firmly. Her hand found its way beneath the waistband of my tight boxers where she allowed herself to caress the full length and girth of me. Her touch was light and cool as she played with the droplets of moisture beading at the tip.
"Come on, Bill!" she said into my ear with a hint of desperation "What are you going to do? Make me beg for it?"
I answered with a smile and one word, "Yes."
"Well..." she started as she tugged my jeans and boxers over my hips, "I want you inside me." It was the most seductive sentence I ever heard.
"Then come here," I replied.
