Author's note: - This is my first submission so constructive feedbacks are welcome.
*****
Here was this mystery woman, standing at my bedroom door, her carefully matched white panties and perhaps too small sports bra hinting at the shape of things to come. Her hair was short but wavy, falling over her black-rimmed glasses. She was attractive, until you peered beneath the surface.
She demurely raised her hand to the light switch and flicked it up. I was lying in my bed, my shirt off and my jeans becoming tighter and tighter. She moved her foot. I noticed her thigh trembling. She was nervous.
"Don't worry," she said. "I' cool." More to herself than to me, it seemed. I blinked my eyes and she walked towards the bed. She crawled onto the end of it, her breasts grazing my feet as she moved up, towards me.
"So this is not what you expected huh?" She smiled, timidly. No, it wasn't. I had heard of her for almost a year and a half. When we first spoke on the phone, I asked her out immediately. A movie, restaurant, play....I don't remember where it was and it doesn't matter. She soundly refused me and that was that. She was the friend of a friend of a friend, a roommate's colleague's girlfriend.....some sort of twisted social chain.
Over the months we'd become phone buddies. She was faint heart and between anti- depressants, therapist visits and panic attacks. She filled her time with booze and men. It just turned out that I was the flavor of the night.
She moved up my body like a hot shower, leaving any exposed flesh tickly and tingly. I reached up and touched, explored for the first time. Earlier in the evening, I had a quick glimpse of cleavage through her blouse and a casual examination of her figure as she walked towards me in the crowed mall and introduced herself. I knew, intellectually, what I was about to experience.
She kissed and kissed well. Not the happy- sloppy lap with tongue that some women do. Not the pinch-lipped, defensive, virginal kisses. But even, enticing, welcoming kisses. She stopped and took off her black-rimmed glasses.
"You are blurry now," She giggled and dove into my chest, searching and exploring with her hands. Quietly, without much enthusiasm, I returned the favor.
Her sports bra was next to depart, bored with the scene. I threw out all pretenses and scoured her body with my eyes. Every curve and line, her hardening nipples, the sleek line of her shoulders I committed to memory in a single moonlit second.
My hands found her trembling things. I ran my hand along them.
"Relax," I said, not too shortly.
I didn't want her to think I liked her. I did, but not forever. I was going to like her very much for this night. But tomorrow, I'd like her as much as yesterday. She straddled me and sat back.
My excitement was obvious and that gave her power, certain leverage. And I could see she liked that. She sat with a wicked grin, swaying slowly. Feeling frustrated and vulnerable, I sat up and flipped her over; I put my weight on her and held her down. She responded by arching her back and opening her legs. So, I thought, now we understand one another. Not that I had any doubts as to her particular brand of kink. You can sense it on women usually. Smell it on them.
"You like them?" she asked, wiggling her medium-small breasts, back and forth, like bait for a lion.
"Yes," I said stupidly, grabbing a breast and squeezing it, rolling my thumb across her nipple. She smiled.
"My mom has huge tits," she said, quite matter-of-factly. I wasn't sure how to react. My first thought was what I was doing with her then. But my brain filter kicked in and I said, "Oh?"
"Yes, huge. I wish I had tits like her."
I pinched her nipple. Me too, I thought.
"Pinch harder if you want, or suck,' she urged. "It's no big deal."
I considered. To my regret she went on, "It doesn't do much for me. But I know guys like it."
I pushed in my tongue and finger assault and looked at her. What the hell have I gotten myself into? I'm drunk. That's no surprise, but this girl is bizarre. Quick, say something.
"No pleasure at all?" I asked.
"None." Came here reply.
I unceremoniously gripped the waistband of her contrived white panties and pulled them down. She lifted herself to accommodate my desire and in one moment, they'd gone, joining the sports bra on the floor.
What I found was no surprise. Fashionable as she was, she and her razor gad endeavored to emulate the late 90's trend in pornography, keeping everything sleek-smooth, everyday, because you never know.