I lit a cigarette and started walking down the sidewalk. It was a beautiful day -- seventy degrees with a slight cool breeze. Perfect weather for the middle of June. Briefcase and blazer in one hand, I crossed the street and began heading toward my upper flat four blocks down. I blew a thin stream of smoke and began reminiscing about my long day at the office. I had had a presentation that day with a large Internet firm, so I had been up late the night before preparing. I was slightly tired and was looking forward to relaxing on my sofa with a stiff drink, hoping to catch something good on the television.
So of course, my mind was on other things and I wasn't paying attention as I turned the corner by the bookstore. Due to my absent-mindedness, I ran right into a young woman hurrying in my direction, knocking her off her feet. As I helped her up, apologizing, I couldn't take my mind off how beautiful she was. She appeared to be in her mid-twenties, with long flowing blond hair and eyes that you could get lost in. She was of good build, not terribly skinny, with a full bosom and long beautiful legs. She squinted against the sun through her small wire-frame glasses and kept repeating her apologies. She explained that she was on her way home from a long day at work as well, and was thinking about other things. I couldn't pass up this opportunity.
I asked her if she would be interested in joining me in the little cafe nearby, and she obliged. We sat there talking for over an hour, and I learned a great deal about her. Her name was Katherine, age twenty-five, and she worked at large law firm on the other side of town. She had just come out of a bad relationship, in which her boyfriend cheated on her with her best friend. I sympathized, for I had had a similar recent experience, involving coming home to find my fiancΓ©e with another man. We sat there by the window, discussing our lives over our espressos. Near the end of our meeting, I finally gained the nerve to ask her if she would interested in coming to my place for a drink. She gratefully accepted my invitation, saying that it had been a long time since she could really talk to someone who was willing to listen.
I hailed a taxi to take us back to my apartment, because it had begun to sprinkle and neither of us had an umbrella on hand. When we reached my building, I tipped the driver and helped her out of the cab. She followed me up the three flights of stairs to my door, where I fumbled my keys while unlocking it. Upon entering, almost before I had set my briefcase down, she exclaimed how nice my place was. I tossed my jacket onto a nearby chair and offered to give her a tour. She seemed thrilled to the rest of my flat, which wasn't very large to begin with. I poured us each a glass of wine and began showing her the rest of my living room (she kept saying how soft my leather sofa was) and proceeded to take her into my small dining room/kitchen. After remarking how beautiful the view was from my large window, she asked me to show her my room. I obliged and she followed me down the hall.
She walked into my room, took a seat on my full size bed, and took a sip from her wine glass. She motioned for me to come sit next to her, which I did in a heartbeat. As we sat there talking, she cautiously touched my thigh and slowly began to move her hand upwards. Sensing a cue, I set my glass down on the nightstand and took her hand in mine. I moved my head toward hers, and engaged our lips. I kept kissing her soft full lips for quite some time before I felt her tongue slide into my mouth. I put my arm around her and we both fell back onto my bed, kissing like we had never been kissed before.
After a short time, my hand slowly moved from her back to the front, where I began to lightly massage her breast. This seemed to turn a switch on inside of her, and she moved her hand down to my crotch and began groping the growing lump in my pants. I slid my hand up her blouse and started to rub her now-hardened nipples through her bra. I moved my mouth away form hers and kissed her cheek, then her upper neck, and then her collar. Before I knew what I was doing, I was unbuttoning her white blouse, exposing her firm breasts that were supported by a thin black brassiere. I moved my lips farther down her cleavage, as if I were following a trail, while I was undoing the clasps of her bra. She smiled at me and slid it off, revealing the most perfect breasts I have ever seen. They were round and firm, with small pink nipples. They were the perfect size -- not too bug, but certainly more than a large handful.