Cara and I were both eighteen, but she still lived with her parents. We'd been dating since the last week of high school, and it wasn't until I pledged a fraternity in the fall and finally got my own room that we had any place to go for sex except back alleys near the school or the other side of the mountains from the city. That's when things started to change for us.
In my room Cara had become a lot more vocal than she was when we were fogging up the car windows on some back road. The first few nights we spent together were about the same thing as the lovemaking we had in her Honda Civic, just a lot more comfortable, and she moaned more. But it was on the night of our seventh month "anniversary" that she sprung a few of the surprises she had in store for me.
We had dinner at a nice restaurant, actually the same one we'd gone to before senior prom, and headed back to the chapter house. She went into my room before me and closed the door. I waited in the hall, enduring the knowing winks of my fraternity brothers as they happened past me. She knocked on the inside of the door and I went in.
The lights were off, but she had put maybe two dozen tea lights along my dresser, the window sill, my minifridge, just about every level surface in the room except the floor. She was wearing lingerie; a green silk top with spaghetti straps and matching silk boxers underneath.
I complimented her on how sexy she looked, but I had to repeat myself as Brad next door turned on his stereo loud enough to wake the dead. Parts of the room rattled. We laughed, and I came up to her.
"What would you like me to do, sir?" she asked me. The question threw me a little off kilter, and she came up to me and started to undo my shirt buttons. Cara was relatively tall, only about two inches shorter than I was, but with a very thin build. In school, she had been the cheerleader they tossed in the air. She had short curly hair and brown eyes, and she held my gaze as she undid the buttons.
Cara kissed me, and then kissed my chest and down along the path of the buttons she was undoing; all the time with her eyes open and fixed on mine. She used one hand to remove my belt while her other arm traced behind me and began rubbing the back of my thigh. With the belt removed, she brought both hands back to lower the zipper and pull my cock out of my boxers. She took it in her mouth, keeping her eyes perpetually linked with mine. It was very good.
She took her hands away from my cock and found my hands. Our fingers interlaced and she pulled my hands toward her head, finally placing them on her head. I ran my fingers through her hair, careful not to put any pressure on her as her mouth and tongue worked on me. Her hand briefly went back to my cock, but apparently I was not getting the hint and they came back to her head to direct me. She placed her hands over mine and began shoving her own head onto my cock. She lowered her eyes as she did this, and we kept going. I felt my heart begin to race. She was kneeling in front of me, her knees between my feet, her hands on holding my hands on top of her head. She looked like a suspect during a felony traffic stop in that position, kneeling with her hand on her head, and she began forcing her head and mouth harder onto my cock when I warned her I was getting close.
Normally, I would warn her and she would either let me cum on her chest or more commonly into a kleenex. But tonight she pushed down on my hands as I came and emptied into her mouth. She let go of my hands and I pulled slowly out, trying to catch my breath. Her eyes met mine again, and she smiled. Then she opened her mouth and tilted back her head to show the puddle of semen she had cupped on her tongue. She closed her mouth after ten seconds or so and swallowed noticeably.
"Wow," I said. "Let me repay the favor."
"Anything you want, sir." she replied. I undressed and took her to the bed. Kissing her neck and massaging her small breasts through her silk blouse, I moved a hand up through along her leg, stroking up and down her thigh until she spread her legs and began thrusting herself at my hand in frustration. I moved the very loose bottom of the silk boxers aside and began fingering her. Her slit was wet and the lips already thick and apart. She came quickly, in a wave that soaked the bottom of the boxers.
"Shit," she said, pausing to take the boxers off. "I wanted to get them off before I came. I hope they aren't ruined."
"Should we soak them in something?" I asked.
"No, forget it."
The boxers were off, and I began stroking her gently but not fingering inside her. She usually needed a minute or two to recover from a big orgasm.
"You don't need to wait, sir." she told me.
Finally I had to ask. "What's with calling me 'sir' sweety?"
Despite the candlelight, I could still see her blush. She tucked her head up against my chest so that I could not look at her. After a pause she said, "I don't know...I just want-"
