*
I look at you standing there, wearing nothing but your intimates, as you slide your hand down your panties once again. The throbbing inside me is almost unbearable and I feel the wetness spread—I want you so badly! I watch as your hand begins to move back and forth, subtly stroking, your nipples hardening so they look as if they’re going to burst right out of your bra. A red flush begins between your breasts as you stroke, moving up your chest to your neck. I raise my gaze to your eyes, which are lowered, but still looking at me—knowing what you are doing to me—and your lips curl into a deliciously teasing smile.
I simply can’t stand it anymore. I unbutton my own shirt as slowly and deliberately as you did, pausing to touch my breasts, stroking my nipples through the lace until they ache for release. I shrug off my shirt, leaving only my black lace bra. Then I start on my pants, unbuttoning and unzipping them, then lowering them enough to reveal matching black lace panties. I see your eyes widen.
“I wore them just for you, baby.”
You are so surprised, the sensual stroking rhythm you had going stops, so I reach toward you and say, “Come here, beautiful—let me see if I can help you out a little.”
I take your hand, draw you to me, and pull you down to lie next to me on the narrow bed. You grab hold and I feel your body shake—not from fear of falling, but in anticipation of what is to come. I pull you close, saying, “Better hang on, darlin’. I want to take you someplace you’ve never been before.”
Then I take your hand, still wet and glistening from being inside you, and touch it to my lips, kissing each finger, inhaling your scent. Slowly, I envelop your fingers in my mouth, sucking and licking each one, lingering over your middle finger. When I finish, I lean close to you and brush your lips with mine, running my tongue around them, parting them to gently explore your full, luscious mouth. Our tongues meet and you taste yourself on me. And just as quickly as I have given you a taste, I pull back, covering your face with tender little kisses, sliding my lips down your neck, feeling your pulse race as each touch inflames you that much more.
Your hand is still in mine, and I ask you if you want to know what you are doing to me. You nod silently, eyes burning with anticipation. I slide my pants completely off and take your hand, first placing it on my breast, letting you feel the hardness of my nipples. Then I slide your hand down the curves of my body, feeling the heat rise as you touch me. With my hand on top of yours, I slip your hand inside my panties. As it continues in, I move mine over so you can feel the panties slide over the back of your hand, a feeling I know you love. I guide you farther, pressing your fingers up until I feel you touch my wetness. As hard as I try, I can’t keep from shaking. My nipples harden even more. I close my eyes to the sensation and unconsciously move my hips back and forth. When I open my eyes, you are quivering, shaking with desire, and I take my hand and slide it into your panties, into your wetness…your most intimate place.
I gently squeeze your clit with my thumb and forefinger, and you gasp, responding with your own squeeze. I moan, feeling the fire in me burning out of control. I stroke you—your wetness all over my fingers, my hand—feeling the racing of your heart even there. You press against me again, willing my hand inside you, and I almost give in. I want you so, but I slow my hand, reaching to stop yours touching me as well.
“Baby, not yet…I have so much I want to do to you first.”
With great difficulty, you slow your breathing, but your desire is plain. Still, you say, “As you wish, baby.”
I turn toward you, claim your breast. I caress the outside, feeling the nipple under the fabric—but it’s not enough. I lean over you, letting my lips suck your nipples through the fabric—but it’s not enough. I want to feel you. I reach for your bra and with one snap, your breasts break free, nipples hard and beautiful. I lower my face to them, burying myself in your scent and warmth. Your hands are in my hair, stroking my neck, my back, your nails running across my skin until I have nothing but goose bumps standing up everywhere. I take your breast into my mouth, feeling the nipple harden as my wet tongue encircles it. At first, I suck gently, enjoying the feel of you swelling in my mouth. I hear you softly moan, and I know exactly what I am doing to you. As I suck your nipples, my left hand explores your body—moving across your belly, down your thigh, touching your inner thigh, teasing you with a soft stroke of my finger as it slides between your legs, through your wetness. Just as quickly, I move back up, stroking and pinching one breast as I suck the other. You start moving your hips to the rhythm of my sucking and touching, urging me on.
Taking your nipple between my teeth, I graze it, pulling harder with each pass. Your moans turn into gasps. I keep sucking and biting, a little harder each time, stroking you with my hand as I go, knowing I am driving you crazy. Your hand grabs mine and tries to lead it to the heat inside. I give in, sliding my hand between your legs, stroking you, circling your clit with my thumb, feeling your excitement grow as you moan more loudly. Rubbing back and forth in your wetness, I slide one finger inside, moving it in and out, slowly. You gasp. Then I slide it completely out.
When I slide two fingers in with the next motion, you whisper, “God, baby, you feel so good…please don’t stop…”
I stroke slowly, feeling your excitement grow. I look at you, your eyelids lowered in passion, beseeching me to love you. “Miss, you are so beautiful…I love how you feel…how my hand feels inside you…how you respond to me…but it’s not time…” And I slowly remove my hand. A cry of frustration escapes your lips as you reach toward me, imploring me to continue, but I resist.
“What’s wrong, darlin’?” I say, mimicking your earlier words in that sweet Southern accent. “Is there somethin’ you need?”
Fiercely, I pull your mouth to mine, filling you with a kiss that makes the fires burn even hotter. You return my kiss with an urgency I’ve never felt, a passion fueled by the love we started. Lost in our kiss, I don’t notice that you have pushed me onto my back and moved on top of me. Our lips part slightly, and you gaze at me with a white-hot fire in your eyes. Cocking your head, you look down at me with a slight grin as you see my surprise at the turn of events.
“I think we’ve had enough teasing for the moment, don’t you, darlin’?” Your hips begin to gently rock against me. “In fact, sweetheart, I’d say it’s about time you learn exactly who is in control.”
You pin my hands above my head, leaning down to kiss me. Our tongues embrace as your hips rock faster. I feel your wetness on my thigh and press my leg into you harder, hearing you gasp at the increased pressure. You release my hands and go straight to my core, sliding your fingers inside me, bringing a cry of pleasure from my lips. I move my hand inside you, furiously stroking your wetness, knowing you are moments from coming. Amidst the frenzy of touching, stroking, kissing, our cries fill the silent room.
“Oh, Jay, God don’t stop…I’m almost there…”
“Damn, baby…I’m coming…”
The blaring sound of an alarm fills the air. I jerk my head up, frantically searching for the shutoff. I breathe in a sigh of relief as I hit the control panel and switch it off. Sheepishly, I glance around, realizing that I am still alone at my desk, the security board blinking normal as usual, and the racy pulp novel open to the last page I read…before falling asleep.
Sitting Pretty
Therese Szymanski
C’mon, Kirsten,” my roommate Julie said one brisk fall afternoon. “Jennifer, Jackie, Jillian, and I are going to the mall!”
I glanced at my watch and frowned. “God, Julie, I hate dissing you like this, but I really need to go to the libe and get this paper done.”
She sat down next to me on our little dorm-room couch and put her hand on my thigh. “Oh, c’mon, you’re acing all your classes as it is.” She squeezed my knee. “’Sides, the new Leonardo DiCaprio flick is out. He is so hot!” She jumped up and looked at herself in the mirror. “Does this lipstick go with my blouse?”
I rolled my
eyes. “Julie, you always look perfect.” And she did. She was the captain of the cheerleaders in high school—and everything about her was perky and perfect—from her clothes to her makeup to her gestures and body. Everything about her was beautiful and…perfect. Especially her body…
She had incredible, firm breasts that had no need of a Wonderbra. Her legs were tanned and toned—even her thighs! And her tummy was flat without being overdeveloped. Her hair was long, wavy and blond, naturally, and her features were defined without losing their softness. And of course, in keeping with all this perfection, her eyes were green, the deep green of newly cut grass in spring.
“You know, you’re never going to meet Mr. Right if you never go out,” she said, turning to me.
“Jules, I went to the bar with you Thursday night, I went to the movies with you on Tuesday, I went to the mall and the frat party with you last weekend—I just need to work today, okay?”
“Well, if that’s the way you’re going to be… Think you’ll be up for a slumber party tomorrow night?”
Just then Jennifer, Jackie, and Jillian came to the door.
“See you guys later!” I called cheerfully after them when they left.
*
“Make yourself at home,” Alex said from the kitchen.
I glanced around her studio apartment. Light filtered in through the large windows, casting a dreamlike quality to the simple furnishings, making it all seem even more like a fantasy than it was already.
I took a deep breath and made myself continue looking around the small space. A textbook-and-artbook-laden bookshelf stood against the same wall that held the entry door, with only a closet separating them. The kitchen, really a room in the upper corner of the studio, was hidden from view by swinging doors.
She was behind those doors, just out of my view.
The other side of the room had a couch and chair at one end, with a wooden folding chair between the two and a stand-up screen with a robe tossed over it at the far end of the couch. Several yards down the room was an easel with a canvas on it, situated next to a large table covered with paints, pencils, brushes, chalk, and charcoal, a palette, and various other artist’s implements.
I took a deep gulp of air. I couldn’t believe I was doing this. I was in a strange woman’s apartment, about to take my clothes off.
Maybe I should just leave? Get away from here and not let anything happen. I could meet up with the gang at the mall, sit between gorgeous women drooling over Leonardo.
Well, that option wasn’t the most appealing thought that had crossed my mind in the recent past.
I sat on the couch, demurely crossing my legs, and pulled the hem of my miniskirt down, as if it could actually go any lower. I pulled out my compact and ran my fingers back through my mousy brown hair, wishing yet again that I were blond and thinking about bleaching it.
What would be the point? I’d still be plain. I’d still have the same nondescript features and the same okay-but-bland body.
I’d still be me.
Regardless, I’d never have the guts to do it anyway. Granted, it wouldn’t be a permanent thing, like a nose job or tattoo or anything, but… I still couldn’t do it. I couldn’t be anything but what I was.
Maybe that was why I was here—I was simply trying to run away from myself—be someone I wasn’t.
But I knew exactly what it would feel like to be naked in front of this ever-so-sexy woman. How it would feel to do a slow striptease for her, shedding each article of my clothing till I was down to just my bra and panties, and then…and then I’d take them off…revealing myself to her. Showing Alex how hard my nipples got for her…
Even the thought made me wet.
Down a bit from where I sat were a number of canvases, but I couldn’t help noticing the bed against the far wall, right out in the open. Talk about teasing. How could she have something so significant right out in the open?
I had a quick vision of Alex’s mouth and beautiful hands on my naked body.
My knees were weak. My legs could barely withstand my weight…
“Can I get you anything?” Alex asked from the kitchen, all too suddenly, abruptly pulling me back to reality.
“A…A glass of water would be great,” I replied, suddenly noticing the dryness in my throat. I turned from the bed to start looking through the canvases against the wall. I couldn’t look at her because I knew I was bright red.
I studied the canvases. They were good, very good. And mostly nudes. Both male and female. And I knew I had fallen out of the frying pan and into the fire.
I recognized Alissa among the stack. She was with me when Alex approached me at the coffeehouse about modeling for her.
*
“Don’t worry,” Alissa told me when we sat down to enjoy our lattes, “she’s really good, makes you feel really comfortable, and doesn’t try any funny stuff.”
“‘Funny stuff’?” I repeated, unable to find any words of my own as I stared across the crowded room at the lean figure debating some point with a mixed group of people I just knew were writers and artists.
“Yeah, you know what I mean,” Alissa said, leaning back and sipping her drink. “Some of these so-called art students figure it’s a good way to get people to take off their clothes for them. As if I’m gonna have sex with some jerk just because I took my clothes off for him!” Alissa and several of her friends modeled for a wide range of people and classes—because, they said, it was the quickest and easiest way to make money. Almost as good as stripping or topless dancing.
“Well, I know I couldn’t model for a guy,” I said, feeling a tingling between my legs at the very thought. I knew that just below Alex’s too-large clothing was a firm body with nice, soft curves. My eyes trailed over her breasts as she turned away from her group to meet my eyes. I wondered if she was getting as turned on as I.
I could melt into her green eyes, but instead I flushed, wondering if she would follow through on the look she was giving me.
Alissa laughed. “I don’t know for sure which way she goes, but I do know both men and women who’ve posed for her, and nobody’s had any problems.” She tilted her head to follow my gaze across the room. “I really think she’s a dyke, though. Not that it matters to me—to each her own.”
After Alissa left, when Alex came over on her way out to reaffirm her invitation to pose for her, I figured it would be the easiest hundred bucks I ever earned, and took her up on her proposal.
After all, sometimes long shots do pay off.
*
“She was a great model,” Alex said, walking up beside me and handing me a glass of water. She had a cup of coffee. She took the painting from me, pulling it out of the stack, as if I looked at naked women every day of the week.
“She has a very nice figure and posed quite naturally, but I didn’t quite do justice to her eyes.” She put down the canvas and flipped through others till she came across one of a beautifully sculpted, well-hung man. “Now, I got his eyes right, but I had a bit of a problem with the shadows and skin tone.” We both studied the painting for a moment. The man had well-defined features, a broad chest covered with a thick mat of curly, black hair, thick legs, dark chocolate skin, and a thick, long penis that would’ve made any horse proud.
If I had questioned where my interests lay, this should’ve answered them—the painting did nothing for me.
I don’t know if it was Alex’s nearness, the musky smell of her skin, or the pictures of naked women so casually displayed in front of me, but I knew I wanted to feel Alex inside of me. I wanted to taste her, and for her to taste me. I wanted everything, I wanted to go all the way for the first time in my life, and I wanted it so badly I wanted her to take me down, right there and then.
She put the painting back down and turned toward me. “We should get started. You can change behind here,” she said, indicating the screen, “and put on that robe.”
She turned and walked toward her easel with its fresh, clean canvas.
I walked nonchalantly behind the screen. Or at least, I tried to walk nonchalantly behind it. At least I didn’t trip.
I took off my shoes, unzipped my skirt, stepped out of it, and unbuttoned my green silk blouse and dropped it onto the floor.
I tried to focus on the chill I was suddenly feeling, hoping it would calm me. Distract me.
I reached behind me, undid my bra, and let it drop to the floor. I slowly caressed my breasts, imaging what Alex’s touch would feel like. My breath quickened as I squeezed my nipples.
Then I realized that I didn’t want her to think I was so turned on, but nonetheless, I couldn’t calm myself. I stepped out of my lacy white underwear.
I tried to forget that a gorgeous woman was just beyond the screen and that I was completely naked. I tried to focus on neatly folding my clothes and placing them in a pile on the floor. Everything had to be perfect. I breathed deeply, trying to focus my center, trying to make myself calm down…
“You ready?” Her voice came over the screen like…like the voice-over on a commercial. A used-car commercial.
I reached up, grabbed the robe, put it on, and walked out from behind the screen.
She looked at me. Her thick, black hair fell behind her like a mane, and her white, collarless shirt was open enough to reveal the tops of her luscious breasts. She had the sleeves rolled up, revealing her muscular forearms, and I suddenly realized that she must work out.
The glasses perched on her nose, covering up her expressive green eyes, were the finishing touch on her sweet and innocent look. She looked like an ingenue. Well, she did except for the tight jeans that showed off her nice, firmly rounded ass.
Stolen Moments Page 22