After realizing that I had just moved forward and kissed her, I took a second to enjoy it before becoming self-conscious enough to pull back.
I doubted that she would have been offended by it, but, to my pleasant surprise, I opened my eyes to see a rather large smile. Since there was only ambient morning sunlight, I couldn't tell for sure, but judging by her expression, I would have been willing to bet that she had blushed at least a little bit.
"Hey," I mirrored her sweet greeting.
Having gone weeks without relying on words, I was not only hesitant to say anything more, but also not sure what I wanted to say. Or more accurately, I wasn't sure where I wanted to start. Perhaps she felt the same, because both of us just silently looked into each other's eyes for a brief moment.
"I've never kissed anyone before," I admitted. "I hope it was okay."
"I have no point of reference, but I enjoyed it."
That was comforting, for many reasons.
"We can practice, later," she added.
That was pleasing, for many reasons.
"I'd like that very much."
We were silent for a while more.
"I love how clever you are," I eventually said. "I love that you're assertive but also understated."
Part of me wanted to add beautiful to the list, but I always felt like just saying it was little more than lip service, not to mention superficial.
"I love that you're kind and can appreciate delayed gratification," she returned.
An interesting choice of qualities to mention. Likely a direct reference to that fact that we just spent the night, half naked, in the same bed, and I didn't try to make any moves on her. Well... apart from the kiss, that is.
"I've had some fantasies like this," I revealed. "Never thought they'd ever come true, though."
"We can make a lot of each other's fantasies come true."
An enticing prospect, to be sure.
"Do you have any particular fantasy that you'd like to start with," I inquired. I was eager to hear her secret desires.
"I've already started."
Did not expect that, but considering these past weeks have been pretty much her show to begin with, I suppose it shouldn't be too much of a surprise.
Still under the covers, and moving only enough to inch herself closer to my face, she then spoke in a quieter tone, still looking me directly in the eyes.
"I've been fingering myself since you kissed me."
I absolutely did not expect that, and she said it with no expression change at all. I was taken aback, so it took me a few seconds to realize that she meant that she was still doing it... at that present moment... while staring me in the eyes.
That's why her other arm was still under the covers.
I was not sure how to react to this, apart from becoming uncontrollably aroused. Her mentioning my appreciation for delayed gratification was suddenly much more prescient
I was at a loss for words and actions. Both of my hands happened to be visible to her, and I felt a great urge to adjust my... newly gained mass, but doing so felt like the wrong move, so I just endured it.
"I need to get dressed and go home for a while. I need you to stand up at the corner of the bed, face the closet, and close your eyes."
Might be a slight complication with that plan.
"I'm in my underwear and quite aroused, right now," I warned.
"I suspect so." She was completely unfazed.
Ok, then. I guess she's gonna have a gander at muh notch. The ol' boy buldge. The... meat... mound- Give me a break. I'm just trying to work up the nerve, here, okay?
I slid out of bed and did as she instructed. I could understand closing my eyes, but I wasn't sure why I needed to stand in that particular spot, facing that particular direction.
My heartrate was certainly elevated, but not so much that a pounding in my ears drowned out the sounds of her getting out of bed. A moment later, her hand took mine, brought it forward, and turned it palm up.
This was only coincidentally level with her crotch, right? What was she about to do?
I felt material being put into my hand.
"Hold this," she instructed, and then closed my fingers around it, firmly.
By the feel of it, I was holding the bottom hem of the shirt... while she was still wearing it. And it was moist.
I suddenly realized probably why it was moist. Oh, my.
She released my hand, and then I felt a quick and somewhat chaotic pull on the fabric, before it simply fell loose, hanging from my grip.
Did she just pull herself out of it?
A moment later I heard the closet door open, the light switch being flipped, and then the door close. I was pretty sure that she had just went into the walk-in closet to get dressed, so I considered it safe to open my eyes.
Indeed, she was in the closet. I held the shirt in my other hand to see the darkened patch.
Don't sniff it. Don't sniff it. Don't sniff it.
I set it on the bed, to remove temptation, and then went to pee. Afterward, I took a moment to wash my hands and face, largely to recover, and then returned to the bedroom to put on my pants.
The closet door opened, and out she stepped wearing my pair of black cargo pants and another one of my shirts.
I was confused. I mean, I liked the site. Cross one more fantasy off the list, but I was still confused. She walked up to me.
"I need to borrow your phone for a while." Another completely unexpected request.
I had never really made a practice of questioning her, but "Why" just kind of fell out on its own.
"I need reference material. It's a surprise."
It's not that I didn't trust her. I just typically used my phone to play games, and whatnot, in the morning. If she was leaving, then that would have been my opportunity.
"I usually play games in the morning."
Shut up, dumbass. You're literally in the act of handing it to her.
She took it, and then her slight smile became a bit less slight. She picked up the loose shirt and put it in my hand.
"I'm sure you can find something to pass the time. Use your imagination."
My imagination?
... Ohhhhh....
She turned and exited the bedroom.
"I'll leave my phone here, in case you need it to make a call. Or anything."
After she drove away, I went into the closet. As I suspected, her clothes from yesterday were on the floor. Since she basically gave me the green light, I took her clothes to my bed, stripped down, lay on the bed and used my imagination until I released several weeks of pent up sexual frustration.
And it was a good one.
I had considered sniffing the wet patch on the shirt, but I decided that I didn't want my first time smelling her most intimate scent to have that scent tainted by the fabric of my own shirt. I wanted that to be a pure experience.
I finished cleaning up with a shower, put on fresh clothes, and then realized that she didn't give any indication of how long she would be gone.
Since I apparently also had permission to use her phone, I sat on the sofa and checked to see if she used a screen lock.
She did not.
Normally, this kind of nosiness was a major no-no for me, but this was an exceptional circumstance, so I delighted in looking at her contacts list, gallery, and music files.
Her contacts consisted of her parents and a couple of businesses. The gallery was not too surprising. I listened to a number of the songs that I didn't recognize, and I was quite pleased with how many we had in common, of the ones that I did hear. She had pretty good taste, even if it was just my opinion on the matter.
After some internal debate, I decided to look at her social media. There was only one, and her last contribution to it was over a month ago. Suspiciously close to the day she caught me staring at her legs, in fact. That's interesting.
Not knowing if she had unlimited data, I set her up on the landlord's WIFI, and checked out her online video website app history. Nothing there that I outright disliked, and a lot that looked pretty interesting, so I watched a few. I even added a few of my own favorites to her list for later viewing.
I was (intentionally, I might add) not keeping track of the time, but I guessed several hours passed. I was listening to another song, which drowned out the sound of her tires crunching the gravel driveway, so her opening the front door was a surprise.
I barely glanced at her, before pausing the music, but that fraction of a glance was enough for me to realize something was different.
I looked up, giving my full attention to the discovery of a changed outfit. For a fraction of a second, I actually questioned whether or not what I was seeing was real.
She was wearing her boots, a pair of over-the-knee socks, and a zipped up cat-ears hoodie. All black. I had never seen anyone wearing anything similar to that outfit, in real life, and definitely not in this small town.
She was also carrying a bag, but my focus left that upon realizing that she was also wearing some black shorts. They had simply blended into the lumpy bottom of the hoodie, so I hadn't noticed until she had moved closer.
Pretty good chance my face noticeably lit up, as those were some of my favorite things to see chicks wearing. And there she was, wearing them, walking towards me, looking me in the eye. By her expression, she was pleased, but I also saw a hint of apprehension that made sense if this was not how she normally dressed.
She set her bag on the floor, in front of the coffee table, and continued toward me. A pause, right in front of me, and then she took her phone from my hand, and set in on top of the coffee table.
Something was about to happen. My heart picked up the pace.
Similar to when she shaved my face, she moved my arms aside, pushed my knees together, and then eased forward over them. Never breaking eye contact, one knee after the other bent until she was sitting on me and the sofa.
She offered another dramatic pause before using one hand to slowly pull down her hoodie zipper.
Holy crap, is she topless under this? Surely not. Not at this stage.
I struggled to keep my focus on her eyes.
Once she got it down as far as she could with one hand, she lifted both hands to part the material half open. Dropping her hands loose at her sides, she just waited. That was my cue to take a look.
It was a black bikini top that tied in front. Not only that, but it was the right kind. I was blown away. Everything was perfect.
"Black Rock Shooter," I said quietly.
She gave a slow nod, before taking my phone out of her hoodie pocket and setting it on the cushion beside us.
"You looked at all my saved pictures and deduced what I liked the most."
Her smile creeped up a moment.
The timing of all this was suspicious. Granted, I didn't know for certain, but I strongly suspected that no stores in this town sold cat-ears hoodies, and it wasn't swimsuit season. She must have had at least some of this already, but did that mean she liked it already, or that she knew I liked it before today?
"How did you have this so quickly," I inquired. Not only did I want to satisfy my curiosity, but it was also a turn-on to hear her elaborate on her cleverness.
She took my hands and placed them on the exposed part of her thighs, but kept her hands on mine.
"One time, when I was sitting behind you, on a day someone else had my desk, you had your phone out, and you were looking through some of your pictures. You didn't realize that I was peeking over your shoulder. I learned a lot, that day." Another momentary smile upcreep.
