Sweep Her Off Her Feet

"So you're some kind of superhero?" She asked, swirling her glass of wine.

"I'm not so much a superhero as I am generally awesome," I replied with an obvious smirk on my face. She gave a little chuckle, a sign that she wasn't entirely put off by my egocentric jokes. Many people confuse confidence with vanity and it was nice to see that she had not made such a mistake. "You see, everyone has an energy in and around them. That's one of the foundations of martial arts training. Through exercise and patience, one can learn to focus that energy. Once you have enough of that energy focused, you can start to do some interesting things with it." The check arrived and I laid my credit card down. "I just happen to have a bit of a natural talent for that."

"So what kinds of things can you do with this energy?" She asked. She leaned forward over the table and rested on her elbows. This brought her breasts together and produced more cleavage than she had shown all night. It also revealed her lack of a bra. Whether she meant it or not, I couldn't tell. She seemed very nonchalant about such a display of her endowments, so I just assumed it was unintentional. Still, I allowed my gaze to linger on the valley between her generous mounds for a pair of moments before I lifted my eyes to her face.

"Well, it is meant to make you physically stronger, faster, and give you more stamina." I continued. "Its through the build up of this force that people do things like break bricks or pull cars with their teeth." She nodded and then slid her hand over the portion of her chest that the low cut top she wore had exposed. Citing the existence of crumbs of food (which I had yet to see, despite having observed this area of her body throughout the evening) she continued to brush her hand over her exposed skin. The server returned with the receipt, which I quickly signed.

I drove her back to her apartment, which was somewhere between close and far away to the restaurant we had eaten at. The drive itself was uneventful. We made small talk, mostly about the songs that played on the radio. Fate smiled on me at that point, because active conversation helped to distract her and myself from my own nervousness. Regardless of how experienced a man is, he is always uneasy when driving a beautiful woman home from a date. I walked her up to her door and she said the six words men want to hear above anything else. "Would you like to come in?"

Inside, she put a little music on and we talked for a bit on the couch. It did not take her long to stand up and say, "Okay, Mister Martial Arts. Why don't you show me one or two of those moves you were talking about?"

I weighed this question for a moment. On one hand, she was asking me for demonstration and I had never been one for showing off. On the other, this would be an excuse to press myself against her under seemingly innocent pretenses. Suddenly, my choice became clear. We moved a table from the middle of the room and I advised her on her sparring stance.

To her credit, she was not hesitant at all as most are their first time sparring. I threw a few slow, easily blocked punches at her and showed her the basics of defense. We continued this for a minute or two before deciding on a plan to increase the physical contact between us.

I hopped forward on my left foot and closed the space that existed between us. She flinched, but not in time to stop me. I sent a steadying hand to her back even as my right foot found her left foot and jerked it from under her. She squealed in surprise as I slowly lowered her to the floor. Once there, I leaned over her, half pinning her and half straddling her. "Looks like I win, love." I said, grinning down at her.

"It seems so." She said, not making any attempt to move from under me. The idea of removing myself from her had not even crossed my mind. Instead, I leaned downward and her lips met mine. Our tongues intertwined as her hands found my back and pulled me closer. Her perfume filled my sense of smell as my mouth slid down her cheek and began to embrace her neck and throat. I could hear her breath quickening.

Propped up on my right elbow to keep the bulk of my weight off of her, I slide my left hand up over her stomach. It rested upon her right breast and was greeted by the poking of her already erect nipple, which was obvious even through her shirt. Her back arched to press the sensitive areole against my groping hand. After a minute of this, I became bolder as the rush of hormones found its way to my brain. I began pulling her shirt upward, first exposing her flat stomach. As more of her torso became visible, she squirmed a little, further aiding me as I removed her top. Finally I gazed upon her unclothed breasts. They were a small C cup. They swayed with each breath she took and both nipples stood proudly as the cool air of the room met them.

I leaned my head to one of her nipples and began to gently assault the nub. She let out a soft moan. My left hand then made the trip back down to her waist. A quick snap and my fingers had her pants undone. I slipped my hand beneath her beltline and was delighted that I had not met any restricting panties. It seemed that she had expected to have such an encounter. 'Either that,' I thought as my mouth switched its manipulation from one nipple to the other and my left hand found her moist slit. 'Or she just never wears any underwear. Which is just as sexy.'

My middle finger rubbed over her clit, which brought forth an eager moan from her mouth. Her hips lifted up and her jeans slid from her hips and off her legs, giving me greater freedom with which to move my hand. I quickly became aware that I'd successfully gotten her completely nude without removing a single article of my own clothing. I wasn't sure if I should be proud or unsettled by this, but the thought must have dawned on her at the same instant. She lifted my head and my hand from her erogenous areas, though their absence elicited a whimper from her. Soon she had my clothes off as well.

For a short time we merely laid there, admiring each other's naked forms. Her breasts heaved and swayed with her breath. My erection pressed lightly against her hip, more of a reminder of its presence then a demand for attention. Her scent, I noticed, had changed. No longer was her perfume the dominant smell. I could detect the salty odor of her light sweat and the more appetizing aroma of her sex wafting up from between her legs.

I was the first to break our standstill. First I slide on top of her, positioning her legs on either side of my body. Very briefly did my cock press against her waiting pussy, sending an anticipatory shiver through her body. I retracted from her enough to bring a complaint from her in the form of an unsatisfied moan. But I swiftly moved my way down her body, sucking on her nipples briefly, kissing down her trim belly, and finally arriving on her closely trimmed sex. She moaned loudly as I flicked my tongue over her clitoris. I continued this for a minute before I planted my lips firmly around the nub and sucked it into my mouth, exposing it more to the ravages of my tongue.

My hand moved to meet her now soaking pussy. Only my thumb entered her, however, and this was only at the very opening. She ground against my hand briefly, trying to force my thumb deeper into her wanting snatch, but I refused her this. I began to rotate my thumb just around the opening of her pussy, stimulating her further. Her panting became ragged and her juices began to soak my hand and chin before I withdrew my thumb and replaced it with two fingers. Finally I gave her the stimulation she had been seeking and thrust my digits deep within her. Still my tongue worked on her clit.

Finally, I felt her pussy clench around my fingers. She gave me a loud moan, an auditory reward for my hard work with her body. Her legs clenched around my head and her back arched as her orgasm gripped her body. I slowed my hand's movement with her pussy, gently guiding her through her internal spasms.

When her body had steadied, I climbed back up until I loomed over her. She gazed upward at my face; sweat still accumulated on her brow. Once again, my manhood pressed against her sex. This time, I said the first words we'd shared since we began. "Ready?"

She only nodded in response. Slowly, I slid the full length of my cock into her. The warmth and wetness I encountered were almost overwhelming. It seemed to pull me into it as I penetrated her. I shivered when I felt my testicles resting against the lowest part of her ass.

And then began my thrusting. It was slow and steady at first, almost soothing rather than stimulating. But as I quickened my pace, the force of my penetrations increased. Soon she was giving a loud, ecstatic moan with each collision I brought within her. I slid my hands down her arms and grasped her own hands. Pulling her arms upward, I held her hands above her own head, giving her a mild sense of helplessness and exposure without giving her any real cause for alarm. Little tricks like this could easily add just a small amount of uniqueness to the experience to make the woman more likely to want a repeat performance.

After several minutes of ravaging her I could feel familiar tightening of her around my member. This triggered a similar reaction in me as I felt my own orgasm growing. Still I pounded into her until she crested and came for the second time of the evening. I withdrew from her now quivering pussy. My hand replaced her wetness in a poor imitation as I began to loose my seed. Even as she called out and her ecstasy roared through her body, I was covering her breasts and her stomach with my cum.

As we each came down from our physical rapture, I rolled from on top of her and lay beside her. Each of us were panting and sweating and both were sticky with each other's fluids. I turn my gaze back to her, after adequately catching my breath. "Well," I said. "Shall we finally make our way to the bed?"