The Tall Girl

Jason Summer, the narrator, is a completely fictional person. The stories featuring him are also completely fictional. They have some continuity to them, but are designed to be a series of stand-alone stories that can be read in any order you so choose.

Also, Jason Summer lives in a world with no STDs and 100% effective birth control. We do not. Please don't emulate him in regard to protection. If you're getting laid, get laid right.

--

"Hey, Jason, you're taking my friend out on a date next Saturday night," Stephanie said.

I blinked. This was a strange greeting, even for Stephanie, who was a bit eccentric. "Uh, hello. I'm doing what?"

It was my senior year of college, and a group of my friends and I were getting lunch at the student union. I looked over at Brad, my best friend since high school, but he just shrugged.

"Her name's Bree, she's a friend from back home who's coming down for the game next weekend," Stephanie explained. "She was bitching last night that the only guys who are taller than her are asshole jocks. Since you're not an asshole and you're not particularly athletic, I thought you'd be perfect."

I'm 6'9", and probably the tallest guy at the university who wasn't on the basketball team. It's a dubious honor at best. "Gee, thanks," I drawled. "Do I get to know anything else about this Bree? Or even get a say in this?"

Stephanie shook her head. "No." She turned and started talking to our friend Crissy while I sat there with my mouth open, fumbling for a reply.

Brad laughed and clapped me on the back. "Yeah, I'm sure this will work out great," he offered. I gave him a look and he just laughed harder.

That's just what best friends do, isn't it?

---

I got a few more details out of Stephanie over the next ten days. Bree was a volleyball player; they went to high school together; Bree had dated a series of assholes and guys who were shorter than her and Stephanie just wanted to prove that tall and nice weren't mutually exclusive.

Whatever. I'd been on a cold, dry streak for the entire semester so I didn't put up much of a fight. Stephanie told me what type of clothes to wear (nice jeans with a v-neck pullover), where to go to dinner (a place with local flavor rather than a chain restaurant, but not somewhere expensive), and when to pick Bree up (7pm at Stephanie's apartment). I could handle a no-strings date that required no thought on my part.

It turned out to be a pretty good Saturday. The weather was great, the football team won the game handily, and I knew of several good parties we could hit up after dinner. I'd been resigned to the date for most of the week, but I was getting interested in spite of myself now. I just hoped Stephanie didn't talk me up too much -- I didn't want this girl to have some impossible standard of me to live up to.

I arrived at Stephanie's a few minutes before seven. I was habitually early for everything, even though I knew Stephanie had never been on time in her life. Sure enough, she bustled to the door and invited me in to watch TV in the living room while Bree finished getting ready (with Stephanie's help, of course).

I agreed and sat down to watch the night game while they worked.

---

My first impression of Bree was *legs for miles*.

Stephanie came out of her bedroom about a quarter after seven and hurried over to me. "When she found out how tall you are, she was really excited to wear some really high heels and still be shorter than you," Stephanie said. "But she's still a little nervous. Please be nice, okay?"

I looked at her strangely -- I was

always

nice. Stephanie teased me about it constantly. Bree must be really self-conscious of her height. I just nodded.

Stephanie smiled and called, "Come on out, Bree."

The door opened and Bree stepped out. Her blond hair was piled up on top of her head, and because of that she had to duck slightly to not hit it on the door frame. She wore a scoop-neck blouse and a jacket on top and a very short skirt along with strappy five-inch heels. Her legs were lean and muscular and *very* sexy.

She stopped a few steps into the room and stood there for a moment, fidgeting. "Um, hi," she said softly.

"Wow," I said. She wasn't the prettiest girl -- she had a long nose and a few blemishes on her face, and at first glance her figure was a little boxy -- but she was very striking. And she had clearly made an effort to look good for me, and that is always a turn-on. "You look great."

Bree blushed and smiled. "Thank you."

I stood up and walked over to her. I was probably about two or three inches taller than her. I glanced down at her heels and guestimated her height at around 6'2". No wonder she had a hard time finding dates, and no wonder she was so excited to wear heels and still be shorter than her date.

I offered her my hand and introduced myself formally. "Jason Summer."

She shook my hand and grinned. "Ooh, a gentleman. Bree Lupinski."

I laughed. "I don't know about that, but it's nice to meet you. Stephanie wouldn't tell me much about you, but just from looking at you, I can't see why."

"Well, so far, at least," she joked.

"Okay, you two," Stephanie interrupted. She shooed us toward the door. "Go out, have fun. You don't have to go home, but you can't stay here."

Stephanie took Bree's arm and lead her to the door. I followed them out, and as I did, I took the opportunity to check out Bree's figure. The jacket was short and stopped around her waist, which gave me a great view of her legs and ass as we walked. I could tell she was an athlete, as her legs were muscular and well-defined, and her ass looked firm and tight under her skirt as it swayed with each step. Her shoulders were fairly broad, but not frighteningly so or anything, and she had a nice neck.

Stephanie said goodbye to us at the front door, and I walked Bree to the car. I opened her door for her, and as she leaned over to get in, I used the unguarded moment to check out her chest as best I could. Her top was fairly loose and had some ruffles or something on it, so it was hard get a good look at them, but I had a suspicion that her breasts were bigger than they looked -- that the overall length and size of her frame made them seem smaller than they were just by comparison.

Hopefully, I thought, I'd get a chance for a more up-close and personal inspection.

---

"I really am so sorry!" Bree said for what had to be at least the tenth time.

"Bree, it's okay," I said. She had knocked over her glass of red wine at dinner and it had soaked both my jeans and my light-grey pullover. Rather than go out to the parties later on with stains, I asked if we could run by my apartment after dinner so I could change. She was okay with that; honestly, at that point, I think she might've agreed to anything I asked.

We pulled up to my apartment building. "You're being incredibly understanding about this," she said. "I really appreciate it."

"Well, you never know," I said. "This could all be a part of my dastardly plan to impress you with my opulent living quarters and then have my wicked way with you."

She grinned and rolled her eyes at me. "Sure. Of course, I just let you think that so my plan of having my wicked way with you comes to fruition."

I laughed as we walked to the door. Bree had a pretty quick, self-deprecating sense of humor. Dinner had been a good time; we'd started off by noting and laughing at all the looks we got as a tall couple, and conversation had flowed pretty smoothly the entire time after that. Dinner as a first date was always very dangerous, as you never knew if you'd have enough in common to talk the whole time. I was glad this had worked out well.

I was actually a bit frustrated at how well it had gone. Bree went to school a couple hundred miles away and neither of us were going to be moving anywhere near one another after graduation. I liked her, but there was no way I wanted a long-distance relationship.

We got to my apartment and I unlocked the door. "It's just a studio," I warned her. I don't particularly like roommates.

My apartment is pretty minimalistic. I have an extra-long futon that folds out into my bed on one wall, and my long dresser is on the opposite wall. A smaller flat-panel TV sits on the dresser. There's a closet, tiny kitchen, and the door to the bathroom across the room from the front door. All in all, the apartment is less than four-hundred square feet.

We walked inside, and Bree looked around for a moment, then leaned back against the wall and raised her hand to her forehead. "You're right, it's too much for me. I'm feeling faint. Your diabolical plan is working..."

I laughed and walked over to the closet. "Have a seat. Lemme just grab a change of clothes and toss these in the washing machine and we can head out to the party."

I grabbed a shirt and jeans out of the closet, but Bree put her hand on my shoulder before I could get far. She stepped up close to me, bit her lip, and said, "Actually, I think I might've gotten some wine on my clothes, too."

I looked down at her, but I couldn't see anything amiss. "What, really? Why didn't you say anything before? Here, let me grab--"

"What? No, I--" Bree cut me off, then stopped and made a frustrated sound deep in her throat. She mumbled something under her breath that sounded like, "Stephanie said you were thick-headed," then took a deep breath. "Jason. You're really sweet. I hope this isn't--" she said, and kissed me.

I was shocked -- I hadn't gotten the impression that I was going to get laid tonight at all, but then again, I can be pretty dense -- but I still had the presence of mind to kiss her back. I dropped the spare shirt and pants onto the floor at our feet and put my arms around Bree and pulled her close up against me.

Bree reached up and put her arms around my neck, and her back arched as she pressed up against me. I could feel her breasts push gently into my chest, and her left knee lifted slightly around the outside of my right leg as she lifted her hips up into my body. Her kiss was soft and almost tentative, and combined with her posture and body language it was like she was offering herself up to me.

It was such an interesting feeling, having such a tall woman pressed up against me. Her whole body was long and lean, soft in all the right places, and I could taste an interesting combination of alcohol and lip gloss on her mouth.

She slid her arms down my back and then pulled my hips into her as we kissed. I moaned softly as my cock got hard and pushed into her. She let go of me and pulled her jacket off, then reached back around me again.

I slid my hand from her knee up her thigh and under her skirt. Her leg was smooth and firm, and definitely longer than any other girl's leg I'd ever touched. My fingers slid underneath her skirt and continued up and over the curve of her ass as we kissed. She moaned and arched her back, pushing her chest harder into mine and pushing her ass back against my hand.

Of course, this is naturally the time that I lost my balance.

I took a step back to try to catch myself, but the back of my knee hit the futon and I tumbled back onto it. I let go of Bree as soon as I realized what was happening, but she had her arms around my neck and didn't let go soon enough, so she tumbled forward onto me. Her left leg, the one that was lifted up and hooked around my leg, ended up high on the futon beside me, and her skirt hiked all the way up to her waist as she ended up pretty close to straddling me.

"Are you okay?" I asked.

She nodded quickly, looked at me for a moment, then burst out laughing. I laughed, too. After a bit, she settled her legs so she was more comfortably straddling me, her skirt still hiked up around her waist, and kissed me again. "That was either the luckiest accident ever, or you have a very odd smoothness to you," she said. She punctuated her statement with a little grind of her hips into my crotch.

I moaned lightly at her hip action, then kissed her and said, "Definitely just luck, but we can pretend I'm smooth if you like."

She shook her head, but she didn't say anything more. We started kissing again, and I lost myself in the feel of her on top of me. I've always liked the position we were in -- the woman on top as we were both seated -- because, when you're usually a foot taller than your partner, it's the best way to get her head closer to your head level.

She pulled my sweater up over my head and things quickly heated up. I unbuttoned her shirt and she shrugged it off, and then I unhooked her bra and her breasts fell free. They were much bigger to the touch than they looked on her frame -- I guessed they were likely a d-cup at least, maybe a bit bigger. They almost filled my hands up, and I have big hands.

Bree leaned back and I kissed my way down her neck and chest. She let out a soft moan as my mouth sucked her nipple, and I slid my hands down her back and onto her ass as I kissed her. She ran her hands through my hair as I kissed and nibbled her chest, and after a moment more, she pushed me back into the futon and kissed me passionately.

"Mmm," she moaned, and leaned back. "Don't move."

Bree stood up and looked down at me for a moment, then reached down to pull off her heels. I stopped her. "No, Bree. Leave them on."

She raised an eyebrow. "Foot fetish Stephanie doesn't know about?"

I shook my head. "Look, you're pretty tiny, compared to me. Not only do your legs look sexy as hell in those heels, but you can use the height. Keep 'em on. Please."

Bree bit her lip for a moment, then smiled at me. "Uh-huh. Tiny?"

I shrugged. "Seems that way to me."

Bree unbuttoned her skirt and slid it down to the floor. "Okay, big guy, the heels stay on."

She stood in front of me in just a tiny, stringy black thong that barely covered her pussy and her strappy heels, all tall and muscular woman. I looked her up and down and just drank in the sight of her. "Wow." I looked her in the eyes. "Bree. You look like a goddess."

She blushed and looked down. "God, the way you look at me makes me feel like one," she said softly. I reached out to her, but she pushed my hands away and sank down to her knees. "No, no, it's my turn to make you feel good before you flatter me so much I do something stupid like propose to you," she said.

She grabbed my jeans, unbuckled my belt, and slid my boxers and pants down and off. My cock, rock hard after her little show, sprang free and smacked me in the stomach. Bree didn't waste any time -- she didn't make a comment, stop to admire it, or even hesitate. She grabbed my dick in her hand, leaned forward, and licked it from base to tip before she sank her mouth down and wrapped her lips four inches down. Her mouth was hot and wet and I could feel her tongue dancing along the underside of my cock as she slowly drew back up to the top.

My head dropped back against the futon as I moaned. Bree really, really knew what she was doing. My dick isn't ridiculously huge, but it's still proportional to the rest of my body, and usually girls take a bit of time to adjust to it. Not Bree. The size seemed to be just right, because she gave me the best blowjob of my life that night. Everything was perfect: a hot woman enthusiastically sucking on my dick, down on her knees in front of me, with my dresser mirror behind her so I had a perfect view of her g-string-clad ass and her tits swaying as she bobbed up and down.

"I'm going to come," I warned her. Bree just moved the head of my cock to the back of her throat and moaned so I felt the vibrations. My muscles seized up and I had one of those full-body orgasms that are practically a religious experience, it was incredible. Bree swallowed my entire load like a champ, and kept gently sucking and licking my cock as my body twitched.

"Oh fucking wow," I exclaimed softly as my orgasm subsided. Bree smiled, her mouth still only an inch or two from my slowly-deflating cock. "That... That was amazing. You are amazing."

"Why thank you," Bree said.

I took a deep breath. My body wanted to shut down after that, but I couldn't let such an incredible effort go unrewarded -- or that challenge unanswered. I grabbed Bree by her shoulders and lifted her up and twisted her body until she was beside me on the futon, then pushed her gently so she was lying down on her back, her feet toward me. I leaned over her so my mouth was at her ear, kissed it, and whispered, "Now it's my turn."

I kissed my way down her body slowly. The one thing I learned early in my sexual education is that whatever speed I think foreplay should occur at, I should take at least another minute or two so the woman enjoys it, too. It's served me well since that first day I tried it on my teacher.

It's also important to take your time when you know you want to fuck, but she's already gotten you off once -- not only does it get her ready for you, but it gives you time to recover and be ready for her. I definitely wanted to fuck Bree, badly, and I definitely got the impression she wanted me. I had no intention of being anything but ready when it was set to happen.

By the time I kissed my way down to her pussy, she was drenched. The tiny g-string panties were barely a square inch of fabric covering her lips, left almost nothing to the imagination, and were sexy as hell. I kissed Bree's inner thighs as I admired the view and got her even more wound up, then -- without warning -- slid my mouth over her pussy.

Bree arched her body as my lips surrounded her pussy and my tongue found her clit through her panties, and she cried out, "Oh, God!" I wrapped my arms around her legs and pulled her hip bones down to keep her steady, then gently moved my tongue over her clit, still covered by the fabric of her g-string. "Oh, God, oh, God," she mumbled for a few seconds as I did this, then grabbed my hair and pulled and said, "Damnit, Jason, stop teasing me!"

Suddenly, without any warning, I sat back on my haunches, ripping her hand from my hair. My hands grabbed the straps of her panties and yanked them down, over her heels, and then I immediately leaned back down and buried my tongue in her pussy. My left arm wrapped around her to hold her steady and I slid two fingers deep into her slit, then curled them up just as I pressed my tongue to her clit and sucked gently.

Bree came hard. She gave a short, violent scream that was almost immediately choked off as all the muscles in her body locked up for a few seconds. My old teacher taught me this trick -- the sudden gratification -- and I knew from experience that it was incredibly intense for most women. After a few seconds of complete stillness and silence, Bree gasped in a ragged breath and her body started to shake. I kept the pressure the same and didn't move, I didn't want to change any of the sensations that were coursing through her body.

Bree shook for a few seconds, still mostly locked up, and then let out a loud, explosive breath as her muscles released. Slowly and gently, I slid my fingers from her soaked folds and lifted my head to look up at her.

"Oh my God, Jason," Bree said. Her head was tossed back, her tits rising and falling with each deep breath she took. She looked up at me with wide eyes and her arms reached up and pulled at me. "Come here. Come here."

I crawled up her body and she grabbed my face in her hands and kissed me deeply, heedless of her own juices smeared around my mouth. Her legs lifted up and wrapped around me and she pulled me close with her heels. My cock had completely hardened, watching her orgasm, and when the head found her wet pussy it slid right in with only a little resistance.

"Oh, yes, Jason," Bree gasped between kisses as I entered her. "Please, don't stop, I need you, now, don't stop."

I looked over to my dresser mirror and saw the two of us together on the futon. Bree's long legs were wrapped around me and her sexy heels stuck up in the air, her tits bounced beneath me as I stroked in and out of her. I tried hard to keep up a slower, steady pace, but it was nearly impossible. Bree was hot and ready to go, and she was no pillow princess; her hips lifted up to meet each of my thrusts, and she buried her hands in my hair and kissed me and gasped in my ear and told me how amazing I felt inside her.