It was my first powerful sexual experience
Thankfully it is warm, I thought to myself, as I hefted my backpack
and stepped out into the night. I was leaving behind the loud
laughing and discussion that was one of my parent's gatherings of
friends. The wine had been flowing for a few hours now, and politics,
food, and business were being dissected at the table. Everyone spoke
at once, it seemed, and I didn't think anyone was listening to anyone
else, only delivering his or her self-important monologue. The golden
light of the dining room shining through the large window only lit my
path half the way to the road, so soon darkness engulfed me and only
some feeble star glow showed me the way.
I'd had some wine myself, and was feeling a little happy from it, but
I was glad to leave the commotion behind for some peace. I had been
agitated all day, anticipating my meeting with Michelle. The wine had
released some tension, at least, so I was not going crazy.
It was early, ten after seven when I set out. I figured about
thirty-something minutes to walk there, putting me at her front door
at three-fourths of the hour. Then I'd probably hang out until it was
a little closer to the time we were meeting at; I didn't want to
interrupt dinner.
I had, of course, left early to avoid being dragged into some
discussion with my parent's lively friends. At least I could walk at
a leisurely pace given the heat spell we were going through. Although
it wasn't that warm: a heat spell in a New England November means it
is not freezing at night.
The walk from my house to hers is hilly, so when I arrived at
seven-thirty I was breaking a sweat. It was earlier than I had
figured, though; I had walked faster than I thought I would.
There was no car in the drive, but it could have been in the garage.
I suddenly felt weird about just sitting on her steps for a half-hour,
what if they saw me? There was nothing else for it, though, so I sat
down and looked around.
About ten minutes later I was freezing my ass off. Maybe it isn't as
warm as I thought. The numbing effect of the wine was starting to
wear off, and I figured that the sweat had made me chilled. I needed
to get inside before I died of something.
I peeked into the living room window. It was nicely furnished, with
dark wood and thick couches. The kitchen appeared to be through one
door and the dining room through another. Except for a table lamp in
the living room giving some ambient light, everything else was dark.
At least they aren't eating dinner, I thought, unless they eat
somewhere else in the house. I decided to ring the doorbell.
About thirty seconds later there was no change in my situation. I
started to wonder if they weren't home. I rang the doorbell again.
Shit, now I'm really gonna freeze. Maybe they went out to eat and
they won't be back until eight. Fuck.
Nothing. I walked around to the back of the house trying to look as
unsuspicious as possible. There was a light on in a second floor
window! I hope that they didn't just leave it on, I thought as I ran
back around to the front.
I gave the bell another push, and then gave a hearty knock with my
fist. Nothing. Nothing. And then, I heard something, maybe steps?
Indeed, a few seconds later I saw Michelle peek out from the living
room window, and then disappear. The door opened, and Michelle was
hiding behind the door, showing only her face. Her dark hair was
raised up in a clip, and I looked at it for a moment. Is she naked,
or something? I thought.
"Hey Rob! You're early!"
"Yeah, I had to leave my house. How are you?"
"Good, actually, I was just getting into the shower. Come in!"
How about I join you? I thought. "I'm really sorry! I didn't mean
to get here so early." I walked into the living room. She closed the
door, and stood there in just her glasses. Oh, and a white towel too,
wrapped around her body from just above her breasts to about five
inches below her ass. Damn, she didn't look too bad. She had slipped
on a pair of white sneakers, folding down the heel of them.
"Sorry I'm like naked here, but I was just about to get in."
"No problem," I remarked, commenting mostly on the first part of her
phrase. I avoided looking at her body directly. I wondered if I
should kiss her, but what if her parents walked out right then and saw
a complete stranger kissing their half-naked daughter in their own
living room.
"Do you mind if I just jump in anyway? I was out running so I feel
all gross."
"No, that's fine. I'll just hang out."
"O.K. You can wait in my room," she said cheerily as she turned and
led the way. I was able to look at her openly now. Her legs were,
after all my previous speculation, fairly nice. They were a bit
tanned, and smoothly colored. Her legs were toned from running, and
her muscles flexed as she walked. Her sneakers were a turn-on;
somehow their pale whiteness set off her skin tone appreciatively.
Her towel-covered butt was round and curvy, complementing her thin
waist. Wow, her neck was beautiful! Graceful, long but not too long,
and it made a perfect shape with her shoulders.
Her skin, I noticed, was very smooth and evenly colored. I wanted to
reach out and caress her shoulder, but I thought that would be
completely uncalled for.
She walked into a hallway and started up the dark steps. Jesus, I
thought, I might see right up her towel. Maybe she was putting on a
show.
"My parents aren't home," she commented. "They didn't want
leftovers, so they went out with friends."
"Did they leave you to eat them then?" I followed her up, looking at
her legs.
"Yeah. I already ate, did you?" I looked hard, but it was to dark
to make anything significant out.
"Yeah. We eat early at my house." Her towel was teasing me, pulling
up with each of her steps, but not far enough to see anything besides
some more leg.
"What did you have?" she asked. But it was still a pleasing view. I
took a few steps two at a time and was only a few behind her now.
"Some pasta and then some barbecue." I wished to reach out and touch
that ass, rip that towel off and kiss the small of her back.
"That's better than what I had." And then run my hands all over her
smooth body.
"What's that?" I asked, rather distracted at this point. She reached
the top, and turned down the hall.
"Some left over casserole. It wasn't that bad. Here, this is my
room. It's a bit messy, but just have a seat wherever. You can even
start working if you want, I won't mind if you start translating
without me!"
"Yeah, right. I can't wait to start," I said sarcastically. I
thought about grabbing her and kissing her, but I wussed out.
"I'll be right out," she said, walking into the bathroom and shutting
the door.
I entered her room. It was very clean, despite what she had said.
There was a nice desk, which did have some clutter, but at least there
was some surface showing, something that could not be said about my
desk. Except perhaps on the first day I got it.
Her bed had a flowered spread on it, and was actually made up.
Another event never witnessed in my room. There were several posters
of mountains, horses, and other outdoor scenes. I figured some were
of Colorado, her home state. A dresser and bookshelf filled out the
rest of her room.
I wonder what she's doing right now, I thought, as I put my bag down
on the floor and dug out my books. I sat on the edge of her bed,
ready to wait out the ten minutes it would probably be until she was
out of her shower. The water hadn't started yet.
In the course of looking around the room some more I made a sudden
discovery, the implications of which were both exciting and dangerous.
I got up to get a closer look, and sure enough, the doorknobs were of
the old style with a skeleton-type keyhole. With the reckless part of
me hoping yes and the modest part hoping no, I bent down and looked
through the keyhole in her bed room door.
It went clear through to the other side. I passed my hand behind the
door to confirm this. I got up, and felt torn. Should I try it?
What if I'm bent down looking and she opens the door. Jeez, that
would suck like hell. But then, I might see her in time to get up and
pop into her room. It is only diagonally across the hall; a short
enough distance to get back quickly.
The hardest part of peeping is making your approach. That is the
only time when you do not know where the person is. Once you have
them in your sights, at least you can anticipate being caught. But
until then, it is like you are blind.
I sat on the bed again, for a moment, trying to decide what to do.
My libido was raging. Here was a good opportunity to see something,
but then again, I really liked Michelle, and it might make me feel
weird to see her like that.
Ah, fuck it, who gives a shit. My scoundrel half won out. If I got
caught, I'd deal with it then. And my conscience? What's that, I
thought.
I stepped cautiously out into the hallway. Still no water. Hmmmm�
The moment of truth. I listened closely: there was something, what
was it? The sound of hair brushing, of course. Fortunately the hall
was covered in a carpet; no wood floors to creak.
Suddenly I heard water, and it scared me for a second. It was the
sink though. Then I heard the steady sound of water hitting a sink
basin change into the variable bubble of water hitting hands. Now! I
thought. She can't open the door if she's washing her hands.
I bent over. I approached the keyhole. There was light coming
through, to my great delight (and dismay, if you asked my conscience).
I angled my head to avoid the doorknob. I pushed my eye close to the
peephole.
I let out a sigh of relief, for two reasons: the bathroom was huge,
and Michelle was still in her towel. Holy shit, I almost said aloud,
teeming with excitement. The shower was the upright type, with a
translucent etched-glass door! O.K., leave now, and you will not have
done anything bad, screamed my conscience. Shut the fuck up, I told it.
The bathroom was long. On the right, a closet of some sort formed
the edge of my view. Then followed the bathroom counter, in which
were two sinks. Her clothes lay on part of the counter. Finally
there was a toilet in the right-hand corner. Along the left-hand wall
were a few towel racks, a hamper, a small cupboard with hand towels on
it, and then in the corner was the shower.
Michelle was rinsing her hands off at the farther of the two sinks.
My dick was really starting to grow, watching her ass shake a bit as
she vigorously rubbed her fingers. She turned the water off, and
suddenly was heading for the door!
I jumped up, trying to keep quiet, and popped back into her room, and
grabbed up my book, pretending to look studious.
Nothing. I got up again. I was really going crazy inside, a mix of
nervousness, anxiety, excitement, horniness, and fright coursing
through my blood like millions of bugs creeping.
I cautiously crept into the hallway, and bent down, peeping through
the hole again. Michelle was drying her hands on a towel hanging from
the rack somewhat near the door. Of course, that's what she was going
for, I thought.
She finished drying and turned towards the shower. I pushed up
against the door, even though I could already see her from head to
toe. She reached in and turned on the water. Damn, does she shower
with that fuckin' towel on? I thought impatiently.
As if hearing me, she suddenly reached under her left arm and grasped
the towel, tugging it free. The towel began to fall away. I was
freaking out. I almost got up and left, but my conscience's last
minute attack on my senses was fended off and I stayed to watch�
"What do you think this word means?" she asked.
"Say what?" I said, suddenly coming back to earth.
"This word here."
"Oh, right, let's see�"
"Are you alright?"
"Yeah, just distracted, that's all." I was indeed.
"Well, we're almost done."
"I know," I said, although I didn't really know. So far she had done
most of the work. I looked at my watch: it was about a quarter after
nine. "We made pretty good time."
"Yeah, but we aren't done yet."
"Right. Where were we again?"
"Last paragraph," she said with a laugh. We continued our
translation, and I made it a point to stop thinking about what I had
seen earlier. Somehow I was successful, and I got back into the Latin
work, albeit grudgingly.
"Great, that does it," she said, as she wrote the last sentence onto
our final sheet. She had written out our clean copy, because my
penmanship is worthless.
I sat on her bed, looking at her. She was bent over the desk,
scripting the remaining words onto a sheet of paper. Her dark green
T-shirt was short enough that I could see the small of her back. I
could make out the back strap of her bra through the shirt. It was
not showing, but I already knew it was black. Her dark blue jeans fit
her well; they were loose fitting, but still gave her hips a nice,
round shape. I couldn't see them either, but I knew she had black
panties on.
It felt strange to see her this way.
"O.K., we are done!" she proclaimed, turning in her chair and holding
up the sheet proudly. "Ms. Maiori will have to be pleased."
"Yeah, for sure."
"So," she said, placing the page into her notebook neatly, "what time
are you being picked up?"
"Ah, well, I actually walked here."
"Really? You could've called, I would have had my parents come get
you!" She came over and sat on her bed next to me.
"Nah, it's a nice walk, really it is."
"Alright. Do you need to go now?"
"No, I don't have to, if that's okay with you." I longed for
something besides Latin words from her mouth.
"Well, my parents can give you a ride when they get back. They won't
be back until a bit later though. Their friends live about half-hour
away."
"What time do you think?"
"Maybe ten-thirty or so." I looked at my watch. Nine forty-five.
"Yeah, that's fine, as long as I'm home by eleven."
I couldn't hold out any longer, so I leaned over and kissed her on
the lips, firmly. She kissed back, thankfully. When she had gotten
out of the bathroom, we had gotten straight to work, and I was in
anticipation of this for almost two hours now.
"Mmmm, I forgot how good it feels," she said, pulling away a bit.
I looked into her eyes. "Yeah, yesterday seems like yesteryear."
We kissed again. Michelle reached around and gave me a squeeze.
"Wait," she said, suddenly, pushing away. Damn, I thought, what's
wrong.
She got up bouncily and turned on a purple lava lamp that was on the
windowsill by the head of her bed. She then switched the overhead
light off and closed the door to her room. The lighting was
immediately more appealing. The glow from the lamp was dim, like neon
from a distance: just enough light to make out shapes, but not enough
to see any detail. I wondered what would happen here tonight.
"Much better!" she said, and hopped back onto the bed next to me.
"Yeah, that's nice." I pulled her close in, and we kissed,
closed-mouth at first, and then I pushed my tongue into her lips.
They parted and soon we were deep into a make-out session. Her warm,
wet tongue was all over mine; after a few minutes my jaw was starting
to get a bit sore.
It was dark, so I closed my eyes, and concentrated fully on the
feelings flowing through me.
At some point, Michelle pulled me backward onto the bed. We lay
sideways, continuing our petting. Our bed-side hands were clasped
together between us by our waists; with my free hand I was massaging
her back and shoulders; she was rubbing my hair with hers.
Our breathing grew heavy, and I was unsure what was supposed to
happen next. Or, rather, I knew what should happen, but I was not
sure if I should be the one to start it. Her parents could be
returning unexpectedly early. For all I knew, they could be watching
us now. But I figured Michelle would know when they came back.
Michelle's hand crept down my neck, onto my back, and around to my
chest. I was tingling with the combination of her touch and the
anxiety of whether to follow her lead. Her hand began to travel down
my chest, tracing a line over my ribs, and then across my belly
button. I was really tense now. Where would that hand end up? I was
really nervous about the possibilities.
She reached my jeans, and fortunately (or unfortunately, depending on
point of view) she reached up under my shirt and put her hand against
my stomach, and began making a return trip up my body. It felt
incredible. I wondered if she had ever been with any other guys before.
All the while kissing heavily, I worked my hand down her back,
deciding to keep my movements tame, at least for the moment. Besides,
when it comes to chests, a girl has more to offer than a guy does, so
I had to go easy. I traced her spine through her shirt, feeling each
delicate bone under her skin. It was a strange feeling to be kissing
so passionately and wildly while touching each other so delicately;
and all the while our other hands were tightly gripped together,
alternately squeezing and easing as the waves of tension built
suddenly and subsided lingeringly within us.
She had reached my breast, and was massaging my upper chest lightly,
as if exploring unknown territory. Her hand passed over my nipples,
sending a chill through my spine.
I reached the end of her shirt, just where jeans took over. Fork in
the road: to continue down would lead to her butt, which would be
interesting. To return upwards would show me her back again. I had a
longing to feel her skin ever since I walked in the front door though,
so I gingerly pulled her shirt up a bit and slid my hand onto her
lower back.
It felt as smooth as it had looked, like flexible, warm ice. I
pulled her a little closer, and slowly began massaging the small of
her back. I felt Michelle arch back just a little and I took that as
a pleasing gesture, so I worked on it a little more.
Damn, I was turned on! If it were possible to cum without movement
on my dick, I would have done so already. And we were hardly doing
anything at that.
Michelle was still working on my chest with her hand. Her mouth
strayed away from mine suddenly, her lips dragging against my cheek,
and then jaw, finally landing on my neck. She kissed me gently there.
Not only am I very ticklish, but also extremely sensitive in certain
areas, my neck definitely being one of them. Jets of feeling shot
through my body like tidal waves as she let each kiss pass into
history. I realized after a time that I had stopped moving my hand,
so I began my slow massage again.
I tensed my legs, stretching them out, and arching back my head.
Michelle leaned in further and explored more of my neck.
I decided the time was ripe for a small change in direction, so I
brought my hand around from her back, passing through the valley of
her waist, and reaching her tummy. Jesus, her skin is so goddamn
smooth! I thought in the midst of my ecstasy. Michelle was really
digging into my neck now, using her teeth for gentle nibbles.
I wiggled a finger in her belly button briefly, and then began to
caress her stomach in circles.
"Mmmmmhhh�" I heard her let out during one long kiss on my neck. I
continued my small circular motions, and moved up ever so slightly
with each revolution. I wondered if Michelle was feeling as good as I
was. It seemed like it, from her movements, but I sure was no expert
at this. Michelle came back to my mouth, and I pressed my tongue deep
into her. My hand continued its circles.
At some point, I felt something besides skin, and it took a few
seconds to realize it was her bra. Holy shit, I thought, I'm really
doing this. I can't believe it.
Keys: bra cum xxx sex stories
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