"Is that it?" Lynne called out from the garage.
"I think that's the last of the boxes. At least I didn't see any others." I walked into the kitchen to get a beer. Moving in has never been one of my favorite activities. But after way too much time spent in trying to maintain a long distance relationship, a timely job offer, and some creative house hunting had resulted in our moving in together.
It was a first for my girlfriend, Lynne and me. Actually she's a lot more than my girlfriend. I guess this is as close to engaged, as we're likely to get. We've talked about marriage and have come to the same basic conclusion - why spoil a great relationship.
Not that I was anxious about our living together. Well, maybe a little anxious since I'd never lived exclusively with just one girl while in a dedicated relationship. But I do love Lynne, and I can see us spending the rest of our lives together. So the practicality of living together, and the likelihood of much more frequent sex helped me overcome any trepidation I may have had.
With the last swallow of beer, I looked up to see Lynne smiling at me. She was sweaty and dirty. Her hair was half-tied-back, half-loose, and all too sexy. She was wearing a light cotton t-shirt over a sports bra and painted-on sport briefs that would have been illegal in many southern states. I'd been checking her out in those briefs all day long.
She knew well about my fixation on tight cotton fabric (OK, OK it's a fetish. I'm hooked on cotton - sue me!). Cotton has a way of presenting a woman's body that I deeply appreciate; easy moving breasts, erect nipples (actually any sign of nipples), ripped abs, a deep navel (I'm an 'innie' kind of guy), fine ass and my personal favorite, the 'camel-toe'. The sight of a woman's split cunt lips is absolutely mesmerizing to me.
I can't believe the number of women who walk around sporting the 'toe' as if nothing could be more natural. Whether her lips are thick and bulging, or just a subtle vertical indentation, I can't help but look. Lynne knows this; she'll even point out a good one to me, and often turn my predilection to her own advantage. She displayed her toe to me by tugging up on the waistband of her briefs.
Turning to get her own beer Lynne bent over very slowly giving me a great backside muffin view (alright, alright…you're probably thinking I have a perverted cunt fixation with all of this camel-toe and muffin stuff - well, I do) man, I was instantly horny. Lynne sauntered to the table and sat across from me, straddling the back of a chair. That straddle put it all on display - right there, front and center!
I smiled my best 'be careful I'm a free-lance sex maniac' smile. I grabbed another beer and turned to stand behind her. I knelt and began to massage her back and shoulders -sensuously. Her moans were more then enough encouragement. I shifted my hands to brush against the sides of her breasts. Citing the fact that it was "in the way," I peeled her t-shirt off.
I returned to massaging her back all the way down to her ass. Her head fell forward, and I worked her from back to front; butt to nipples and back again. I focused exclusively on her breasts and nipples, and her breathing changed. She adores having her nipples attended to, and I was determined to have them at attention. I told her I needed to inspect my work for quality and helped her out of her sport bra. I got a little rough on her tits - which she absolutely loves, pushing and pulling on her nipples.
I slid a hand under her waistband, stretching the material, as I tried to get a finger into her. She resisted me! She kept leaning forward so that I could not get a finger into her.
"You need to lift up!"
"No."
"You're not going to lift up?"
She shook her head.
"Are you saying that I need to take care of this myself?"
She nodded.
I lifted her out of her chair and was about to carry her into our new bedroom when I realized - no roommates would be bothering us. I sat her on the kitchen table instead, and gently pushed her back. When she started to get up, I restrained her and once again, pushed her down. The reality of our newfound privacy finally dawned on her. When her back hit the table, she raised her hips. I pulled her sport briefs down and ceremoniously dropped them on the floor.
I held her feet together and straightened her legs, holding them nearly vertical. I kissed and licked the back of her calves, knees, thighs and butt. I came close to, but avoided direct contact with, her juicy little muffin or her little starfish. Although, I did blow lightly on both of them - repeatedly.
One of my particular, or peculiar, joys in life is to have a woman beg for it in that whimpering voice of need, bordering on desperation. Lynne sometimes tries to resist begging for as long as possible…today she was quick to whimper.
I licked closer and closer to her slit. Her lips were swollen and slick. Her scent was magnificent, and I inhaled deeply enjoying its aphrodisiac-like quality. I s-l-o-w-l-y licked up one side of her slit and then s-l-o-w-l-y down the other. At the bottom, I pushed my tongue against her perineum a couple of times then reversed course, going up and down again.
She wiggled her hips around trying to compel me to make direct contact, but I had her calves firmly in hand - so I continued to torment her. Her whimpers became more voluble, and moans gave way to words. "Come on sweetie, quit torturing me." I slowly spread her legs apart. I licked between her lips and circled around her clit.
"No, up, over a little, no the other way, ohhh."
I lowered her legs and pushed her knees wide apart. I quit licking and looked up as I slowly inserted my index finger into her.
"Ohhhhhh, go back to licking. C'mon Jeffery lick it. Lick it for me and I'll lick it for you real, real good." She was trying to bargain, but the need in her eyes was unmistakable - I had her right where I wanted her.
I could have fingered her to orgasm, I could've licked her to orgasm, I'm pretty sure at this point, I could have fucked her to orgasm - but I didn't. Instead I hooked my finger up and stroked the inside of her cunt. I matched the motion of my inside finger with my left hand as I pressed down on her mons from above.
