Lust And First Encounters

It was a surprise to meet her, that much was certain. And where they ended up was not what he had thought would happen when he woke up that morning.

Yet there she was. An impromptu run-in at a coffee shop, spilled coffee, discolored shirt, changes needed, and his place was closer.

God she was hot.

And she wasn't as bold to admit it, but he was too. She also wasn't bold enough to admit that she could have just gone to her house to change, but something about his flushed cheeks, his deep brown eyes, and his big smile told her she was missing something if she didn't be a little spontaneous. So here they were, stains drying, him directing her to a bathroom to change while he went to his own room to slip on a new shirt. Maybe the tight button-down.

She was glad she had the extra shirt on her, which was meant for later when she would go to the gym. Or so she had planned.

Upon meeting each other in the hallway, he couldn't help but look her over. Average height. Brown, full hair. Smooth, cream-colored skin. To top it all off, there was a slim figure with legs to die for.

Her eyeing was far more subtle, but just as effective. He was tall, over six feet. Skinny, but broad shouldered, very European look. Short brown hair, and that lingering smile.

Still he lead her to the door, not about to make an ass of himself, and promptly slipped on the tile floor. Her laugh rang through the apartment as he sheepishly sat up. She extended a hand and he took it, rising up to her. They found themselves suddenly very close.

So close they could

Kiss.

Suddenly they both wondered if it really just happened, and if so, which of them had made the move. But suddenly it didn't matter as he wrapped her up tightly in his arms, and kissed her, deep.

Surprise faded to sensation as she let go and wrapped her arms around him. It felt like desperation. Like an eruption of passion that had been building over the last hour they'd know each other. How had it built so quickly? Yet here they were, his one hand slowly dragging down her back, the other holding her waist closer, pulling her into him. Her hand finds his chest and rests there, lightly scratching him as she feels his heart race in response, faster and faster, the tempo matching that of their lips as kisses become sloppy, tongues sliding in and out of each other's mouth, wrestling with each other.

Suddenly, they are both very aware of the heat rising between them, the growing want they both feel. In subconscious agreement, they head for the bedroom, never breaking lip contact. Once there, he lays her on the bed, climbs on top, and insistently presses his waist into hers as their legs become entangled, intertwining as the need to feel every bit of each other grows.

And still they hunger to feel more.

He slides his hands up and down the curve of her body, absorbing her figure as he slowly moves closer and closer to her chest. Suddenly, he's there, feeling her, and feeling that she wants it as she thrusts her hips into his in response. Encouraged, he becomes more aggressive, palming, sliding his hand up her shirt and bra, then running his thumb across her nipples and feeling her body squirm beneath him.

She can't get enough of this. Every nerve seems to be working overtime, churning out new desires that have never been felt before. So much courses through her body all at once that she suddenly feels far too cramped, removing her shirt and rapidly unbuttoning his as she throws it to the floor. The kissing continues, but before long he has left her mouth and is kissing her neck, causing her waist to press against his once more as he lightly bites her neck. Her nails suddenly dig into his back, as he has hit a spot, for now she knows she has lost control of herself to the heat that courses through her body, consuming her, and arriving at her thighs.

He feels the shift in temperature and greedily takes advantage of it, his hand slowly working its way lower as his fingers dance around, teasing her, which she loves and hates, struggling for breath as it keeps catching in her throat. But two can play this game.

His desire has been growing for quite a while, and she has definitely felt it. Now, she's going to actually feel it as her hand arrives at his pants, playing with the bulge that sharply erupts from it. Suddenly, she feels an intensity of pressure between her legs as he has stopped playing around and gets serious. She bites her lip and unbuttons his pants as he does the same to her. Since they are both fully naked, she intends on stroking him for a while, but then a blast of pleasure fill her body as he feels her sweet spot. There's no way she can do anything besides lay back and let the euphoria engulf her body and escape through the moans she can't help but make. It only grows and grows, leaving her gasping for air. Suddenly, she feels small tickles slowly moving down her body as she realizes he is kissing her, but slowly getting lower and lower, until the pleasure pauses.

And is resumed with a doubled intensity as his tongue goes to work, licking her again and again, hitting that spot that makes her squirm. Her cries become longer now, no longer sharp intakes, but long exhales with muddles attempts at words while her hands push his head further into her. He continues his efforts, occasionally sucking for a change of pace, before she can no longer take it and asks him to

please

fill her

she needs him.

Not needing to be told twice, he mounts her and slides his pulsating desire inside her, slowly, allowing her to feel every inch as she is overcome by his entrance. It feels like an eternity, like there is never an end to him, that she won't be able to handle all of him, when suddenly, he stops, and eases out a little, slightly faster.

Then he's going back in. And out. Each time picking up the pace as she is rides the roller coaster of fulfillment, him hitting her again and again for what seems like an eternity. The ecstasy is flowing between them and through them, each of them feeding off it and thriving on it as the heaven continues. All the while, his hands are traveling all over her body, feeling every bit of her, everything she has to offer while her hands are grabbing the sheets, fists clenched tightly as her mouth flaps open and shut and her screams rise above it all. Finally, there is one last thrust, one last release for the both of them, and then they collapse together, sweaty, tired, but satisfied as never before.

Both of them clean up and they exchange contact information, but merely as a formality. Both know that there was no hope of a normal relationship after that. As he shows her to the door for the second time that afternoon, she leaves, and he watches her go, leaning against the doorway, and grinning his big grin.