The Truth And Jessica

Every time I thought about Jessica I'd get a hard-on. No, really! She was just that kind of girl...well, woman, really. She had all of it totally together and she knew it. The way she looked, the way she moved; her entire being just oozed sensuality. I was obsessed with her.

There were days when I would spend hours by my den window looking out, based on the chance I would get to see her. When I saw her walk out of the back door, I'd rush into my backyard just to say hello and hear her voice. I could hang on the fence and watch her do the simplest tasks, but always with that erect dong hanging in front of me.

I yearned to get into her pants. I mean, I fantasized about us together all the time. I imagined my hands roaming across her soft flesh, my lips and tongue pressing against her, inhaling the fragrance of this goddess of sensuality. I dreamed of entwining my fingers in her dark hair and looking into her eyes as I penetrated her sopping wet pussy. I had it bad!

As far as I could tell, though, Jessica didn't half realize I was even alive. Aside from our greetings across the fence, this angel of my daydreams hadn't spoken more than five words to me in all the time we'd lived next to each other. Imagine my shock when we ran into each other at the local quick-stop and Jessica actually engaged me in conversation.

It was a blistering hot day. I had on a pair of shorts and sandals. I'd thrown on a shirt to make the run to the store for cokes. Jessica had on shorts and a halter. She was showing more skin than I could bear to see. As soon as I recognized her, my old willy started to throb and extend. I was headed for embarrassment.

As I was pulling my six-pack of sodas from the cooler, Jessica was dragging out her twelve-pack of brew.

"Well, hello, there," she said "Nothing like a cold brew on a hot day like today."

I generated enough courage to say. "Maybe that's what I ought to get."

"You like beer?" she asked.

"Yeah, sure," I admitted.

"You want to share some of this?" she offered.

"Oh, that's not my brand." No sooner were the words out of my mouth than I felt like a complete dunce. Jessica, however, saved me from my own idiocy.

"Why don't you get some of yours, then, and we'll share that way?" she offered.

Dumbstruck. "I, uh." I was a stammering fool. "How..."

"You bring yours to my house," she said, a model of patience with this stunted moron. "You can drink yours, and I'll drink mine, and we'll share," she explained.

A light bulb went off in my brain. "Oh, yeah!" I said, replacing my cokes and reaching for a pack of my favorite brew. "Great idea." What a dork!

We walked toward the checkout together. "Are you all right?" she asked. There was a hint of real concern in her voice.

"Truth?" I asked her.

"Always the truth," she said, seriously.

"I feel like an imbecile," I admitted.

"Oh," was all she said.

"Look," I offered as we hit the counter, "let me pay for that. I'd really like to."

Jessica leveled those amazing eyes on me. "Okay," she said.

"I'm not usually so slow on the uptake," I told her, pulling out my Visa to pay for our brews. "Must be the heat."

Jessica smiled, baring her teeth behind her lips. Damn, I wanted to kiss those lips!

She hefted her beers off the counter and headed for her car. "Meet me at my house when you get back," she said. "I'll be waiting for you."

Twang! The old peter virtually stood at attention with that!

I signed the slip and pocketed my receipt. I carried the brews out to my car, climbed in at headed for the house, seven blocks away. I parked in my carport and grabbed the beers, headed next door. I rang the doorbell and waited. When she opened the door, Jessica was not smiling.

"You were supposed to come on in," she admonished me. "I told you I would be waiting."

"There's no way I'm barging in," I told her. "I'm just not comfortable doing that."

"Fine," Jessica said. "Come on in. We'll put the beer in the fridge so it stays cold." She led me to her kitchen and showed me where to store my beer. I popped one out and put the rest on the rack. Then I joined her at the little table there in the kitchen.

"What were you doing before you went to the store?" she asked me.

I told her, "Just hanging around the house. It was too hot to do anything much, even with the air on."

"Is it comfortable in here?" she wanted to know. "Do I need to turn the air down some?"

"It's fine," I said, sipping at my brew.

"You're sweating," Jessica observed.

"It was hot in the car," I said. "I just haven't gotten cooled down, yet."

We made small talk for a while. Careers. Pets. Places of origin. History. We each downed a couple more beers, and I finally got cooled down. Then Jessica broached the dreaded subject.

"I know you've been watching me," she said into her beer.

My heart went into my throat. Should I apologize? Should I confess? I decided neither.

"Oh," was all I said.

"I'm flattered," she told me. "A girl likes to be appreciated."

I smiled at her.

"You're not some sort of weirdo, are you?"

"I don't think so," I said, my duncedom resurfacing.

"So, you got some sort of fantasy thing going on?" she asked.

"About you?" The moment of truth was approaching. I could sense it.

"That will do for starters," she said, with a big grin on her face.

I hesitated. "Truth?"

"Absolutely," she ordered.

The time that passed couldn't have been more then ten seconds. It felt like two hours. I screwed up my courage and blurted it out.

"Yeah, I've fantasized about you. I mean, about us. Being together, I mean. You know. I think you're hot."

"When you were sitting around your house, before you went to the store, did you have your shirt on?" Jessica asked.

"No," I answered, glad to be away from the subject of my fantasy. "I just put it on to go to the store."

"Then, I think you should take it off," she said evenly.

"Really?" I felt a little squeamish.

"Definitely," she said. "I want you to be as comfortable here as you are in your own house."

I hesitated. This called for a decision. "Okay," I said. I put my beer down and took off my shirt. I tossed it into an empty chair.

"Good," she said. "Now, tell me about your fantasy."

"Oh, well," I stammered, "there isn't much to tell. I mean, it's just, you know, you and me together, like."

"Do you kiss me?" she asked.

"Well, yeah, sure," I affirmed uneasily.

"Do you want to?"

"I..." What? Say no? "I guess."

"Come here," she ordered, drawing closer to me. When our lips met I damn near jumped with the electricity. My mind couldn't handle how something so soft, so gentle, so incredibly warm and moist could generate such a fire. It didn't make any sense! My dick sprang to attention in my shorts.

Jessica put her hands on my shoulders first as we kissed. She stroked down my chest. As her fingers flicked over my nipples I jumped and twitched with the sensation. She pulled her lips away from mine, her tongue giving a light flick to my lips.

"Sensitive there, aren't we?" she said, her thumbs traveling across my nipples again and making me twitch. She chuckled softly, then stuck out her tongue and swiped at my left one. I nearly jumped out of the chair!

"Oh, my!" she observed.

"Nobody's ever done that," I confessed.

"But, you like it, don't you?" she asked.

"Yeah, I guess," I answered.

"Truth," she said, sternly.

"Yeah, I do," I admitted. She tweaked them again, then licked each one in succession. I twitched and my rod throbbed in my shorts. "Oh, damn!" I breathed.

She giggled. "I like that," she said, smiling.

"You do?"

"Yeah. Gives me a real sense of power."

"Oh." Go ahead. Somebody please shoot me. Save the world from this idiot!

Jessica pressed the flat of her hands against my chest. She just slid them around, sometime grazing the nipples, sometimes not. When she did, though, it was like jolts of electricity zipping through me.

"Was this in your fantasy?" she asked.

"Uh, no, not this," I admitted. Twitch!

"Too bad," she murmured. "It's nice, though, isn't it?"

"Yeah," I said.

"You've got a hard-on," she observed, leaning forward and licking again. I almost fell out of my chair.

"Jessica," I said, my voice broke like a 12-year-old. I cleared my throat. More firmly I said, "Jessica!"

"What?" she asked, her eyes never leaving her hands as she rubbed me. It was as if she was on some other planet and I was speaking to her through a long tube.

I tried to make contact. One of us had to do the gut check. "Don't," I commanded.

"Don't?" she asked, her hands stopping in mid stroke. She looked into my face, the question reflected in her eyes. "Don't what?"

I took a huge breath. "Don't tease me," I said. "I know I've sounded like a fool. But, I'm not, really. And, yes, I've fantasized about us together. I admit that. It makes me feel terribly vulnerable, now that you know. So, please, just don't tease me."

Jessica returned to Earth, leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms under her breasts.

"You're cute," she said, reaching for her beer. She took a sip. "I like you. I'm not teasing you."

"Oh," I answered. "I though you might, you know..."

Jessica interrupted me, strangely business-like. "You want to know what I like?" she asked.

"Sure," I said.

"I like men who are strong," she told me. "Telling you this make me vulnerable. I like to be told what to do. I'm single. I make all my own decisions. Sometimes, a lot of times, I just get tired of it. It's exotic and erotic for me to let somebody else do the deciding."

"Okay," I agreed. "I understand that. But, still, you have to give permission. Otherwise, well, there could be nasty accusations."

She smiled. "You're here because I want you here."

"I'm here to share some beers and talk," I said.

"We've kissed. I've licked your nipples. I expect we'll do more than talk."

"I'll want to make love to you."

"That's certainly more than talk," she said, "and fits right in with my expectations."

Sounded like permission to me. "Come here, then," I commanded, "and kiss me, again. I loved the way you kissed me."

Jessica leaned forward. I met her. She closed her eyes. I made sure my aim was true and closed mine. The first contact was soft, gentle. As it lengthened, it became more feral, more needful. Tongues met and clashed, molding around each other, probing, testing, feeling the smooth wet surfaces, sharp edges of teeth, slick sensation of membrane and muscle. She pulled away.

"You still have a hard-on," Jessica observed.

I did, too. It was straining at my shorts. "I think I may have to ask you to help me with that," I told her.

"Don't ask," Jessica looked at me seriously. "Tell."

"First, though, we'll need to move away from here. It's uncomfortable leaning at each other this way."

"Sofa in the living room?" Jessica inquired.

"I think not," I said. "Is there a bedroom?"

Jessica stood up and took my hand. She led me through her little house to a bedroom, obviously hers, because it had that lived-in feeling. We stopped at the door.

"You sure you want to do this?" I asked her.

"For about six months," she admitted.

"Six months!" I was flabbergasted. "Why didn't you tell me, or send some signal, or something?"

"I knew you were watching. You think I parade around her like that for everybody?"

"Well, actually," I said, "I thought you were just going about your business. I thought you didn't know I existed. You could have said something, or called..."

"That's not my nature," Jessica said, "or my style. You're supposed to make the first move."

"But, today..."

"Sometimes you have to step out of character to get what you want," she told me. "It was very hard for me to do that. But, I've been waiting a long time."

"For me?"

Jessica nodded.

"You could have saved a lot of time."

She looked at me quizzically.

"The truth. You could have told the truth."

"You didn't," she reminded me. "You sat up there in the shadows, lurking and looking. You could have told the truth, too."

"From now on," I promised. "Only the truth."

"The whole truth?"

"And nothing but the truth. Let's go make love," I proposed.

"I'd love to. And, that is the truth."