There was no change in her face. But no acceptance, either. No reward for being honest about how I felt.
Finally, she said, “You no doubt have lots of girlfriends.”
I said, “Ma’am, I’m 50, and I work in a carnival. I’m not exactly what you would call a winner.” I smiled, trying to show I was not unhappy with my lot in life. “But, I can be interesting for short periods of time.”
I was rewarded with an out-and-out laugh, a big hearty head-turning laugh that made me smile. “I bet you can,” she said.
Once again, she did a Zorro on me, and disappeared. At least this time I thought I might see her again. As I closed up the ride that night, and did the bookwork that goes with the receipts, I thought about her, and what the skin on that back might feel like under my hands, what it would be like to kiss her, to feel her hot breath on my shoulder. “Stop it!” I chastised myself. “She gave you NO encouragement whatsoever, so stop it!”
The carnies parked out in a grass lot that turned to mud when it rained. I pulled to the edge of the lot toward the street and looked left and right. A small red sportster sat on the wrong side of the road, parking lights on. I glanced at the driver. It was her. She stared at me. I turned off my lights. There would be someone else behind me in a second or two wanting to get out of the lot and head home. Suddenly her lights came on, and she roared by me, handling the little car like a pro. I didn’t hesitate. I followed, as quickly as my one-lung machine could, but I was not about to let her out of sight if I could help it.
She wasn’t trying to lose me. Once she turned left, and traffic cut me off. She waited. As soon as I made the turn she jetted off, expecting me to keep up.
We wound up out by the interstate, in an all-night coffee house, bustling even at 1am with truckers ad tourists. She parked out away from the buildings
I pulled up beside her, and waited. She opened her door. And stepped to my truck, pulling open the door. “We can leave my car here,” she said as she sat down, reaching for the seat belt.
“Oo---kay…” I said. “Where would you like to go?”
She looked at me, without accusation or expectation in her eyes. I failed to take the hint. “You do live alone, don’t you?” she asked.
I drove. It was 15 minutes to my place. I made it in 9.5.
We walked up the one flight of stairs to my apartment. While I am not a neat-nut, I knew I would not have anything to apologize about as far as my place was concerned. I kept it looking pretty spiff. It was what I did instead of writing, when writing wasn’t happening.
So far, neither of us had said a word since leaving the truck stop.
I reached around her to unlock the door. She turned into my arms. Her kiss was insistent, urgent, needy, and wet. And she felt just as good in my arms as I knew she would.
I managed to break for air, and said, before opening the door, “Wait!”
She backed off for a second, obviously puzzled, and reluctant. “What?”
“Your name,” I said, “I want your name.”
She smiled and whispered close in my ear – “Debbi.”
I noted she didn’t ask mine.
I pushed open the door, and we moved inside. Before I could turn on a light, she had my arms around her neck, my body against hers, leaning back against the door. I fumbled to get the security chain on. Later I realized I had been lucky to be able to think even that well. This lady was a serious lover, and demanded anyone’s full attention.
Now, kissing has always been just something a guy did to get to the good stuff. That all changed in about 10 milliseconds. I realized I was in the middle of a world class kiss, and did my best to keep up. This lady was a serious kisser. Her lips pressed against mine, moving, feeling, hungry all over.
Her tongue grazed my lips and teeth, and just as quickly darted away. I gave chase, and got trapped between those whiter-than-white teeth. Now, somewhere in here I noticed I had a raging hard-on, but that seemed back-burner stuff, while on the front burner was this barn-burning kiss. I stopped thinking about how her belly felt against my dick, or how her tits felt against my chest, and just .. felt. I gave it all up to the moments we spent kissing. Our heads revolved around each other, my head tilted so my forehead was nearly on her shoulder, my hands roamed her back, catching on the brass fittings for these overalls. I gave up and just held her, tightly, squeezing her to me.
I know I could have hurt her, being so insensible. But she not only didn’t mind being held so tightly, she returned it, in spades. She held me closely, her head upturned. It never even occurred to me to break this kiss. I didn’t want to for one thing. And if I had been able to think about it, I would have thought that stopping this kiss now would be dangerous: she might kill me.
So we continued. The apartment was black. The only light came in thru the open window over the dining table. My computer setup was all there. Somewhere in my mind I had thought if I ever got her in this situation, I would try to keep her interested by talking about writing. She was not interested in that, at the moment. Neither was I.
Her breath hissed in and out of her nose. Her lips worked at mine. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I again noticed she had breasts, magnificent breasts. I tore one hand away from rubbing her back, and moved it up to her chest, toying with the flesh between us. Her nipple was already taut, hard as a pencil eraser, and twice as large. I tweaked it, gently, and was rewarded by being bit on the lip. A sharp intake of breath, but she would not let me go. I thumbed her nipple again, harder, and got bit again, only not as hard this time. I must be going in the right direction.
From somewhere, I got the strength to pick up this handful of woman. She held on tightly, and lifted those magnificent legs to strap herself onto me, squeezing me at the waist, breathing hard. I walked to my bedroom, in the dark, a thought running by that I was glad I had the place picked up again, now for an entirely DIFFERENT reason. We reached the bedroom. I walked us to the bed. I put a knee on the bed, and eased her onto the cover, not daring to let go, or break this kiss. As far as she could tell, we were in Egypt or on the moon. She had not opened her eyes since we had entered the apartment.
Her legs were already around me. I ground into her, wanting to transfer some of these great feelings from my dick to her pussy, even through 4 or 5 layers of clothes. I eased up kissing her, pulling away only far enough to be able to see her eyes. I was long past the ‘Why me?’ thoughts. I was just going to take what came, and hope for more. Our lips barely touched as I moved my hand to her tits again, this time moving between them, feeling one nipple, then the other.
I leaned down to her again, but before we could start another marathon kiss, I whispered directly into her ear, “I’m going to undress you, slowly.” This earned me a moan, and another clasp to keep me close.
I forced my way away from her for a moment, and realized I was going to struggle with unfamiliar clothes in the dark. Not wanting to take a chance on her having second thoughts, I decided to err on the side of darkness, and feel my way around her clothes.
I found the clasps at the top of the front of the overalls. I managed to caress her tits quite thoroughly as I unclasped the metal stays. I smiled down at her. Our eyes had grown accustomed to the dark, and I could see her face clearly now. She was not smiling, but wanting. I flipped up the shoulder straps to lay on the bed, and pulled down the top, again taking advantage of the closeness to rub against her tits.
Her shirt was ribbed. Somewhere between the door and here, she had shed her sandals. Much as I hated to be even that far away from this wondrous person, I held her overalls and moved away, hoping she would take the hint. Something about the way we already were together let her understand. She lifted her hips and I slid the shortie overall over her knees, and onto the floor.
Enough time had passed since we had had to stop kissing. I bent to her. I could have waited until she was nude, but that was too long to wait. I wanted more of those kisses. Now. She pulled me to her, wrapping her strong arms around my neck. Our lips met. Which is as much of an understatement as, say, ‘Rockets are loud,’ or ‘Black is dark.’ We didn’t meet so much as flow together. I had the fleeting impression that we had incandesced into fiery pillar, swept up into the heavens on the wings of magic chariot. Some part of my mind kept wanting me to say ‘WAIT!’ and slow down and take this in slower, appreciate it more. But I knew that to stop would be madness. Her mouth welcomed me. I had to learn how to kiss, all over again. This was new.
Her legs wrapped around me, now only one layer of clothes on her, all of mine still in place. ‘Hell with THAT,’ I thought. I did every contortion known to heated-up-man to get my clothes tugged off to a point I could break this kiss for the least possible time and still get these clothes away from me. They now weighed 14 tons, and I wanted them GONE. As quickly as possible, I was on her again, now only in a t-shirt and shorts, my arms around her, pulling her to me. Her legs went back around me again, pulling me into her. She could not help but notice I had a half ton of steel between her legs. I tried to be less insistent, less eager, trying to show I was appreciating this new found art of the kiss. I would have been content to be there still, kissing her, rubbing her back, legs, breasts, looking into her eyes.
She pushed me away. I stood on my knees, already missing the pressure of her legs against my waist, and her tits against my chest, and her lips on mine. I tried not to pout like a child who had just lost a sucker.
