Just The Beginning 2

I was fidgeting again. My arm trembled against my side. My fingers flicked imaginary dust from my skirt. I always wore skirts.... at least around him. Red skirts, blue skirts, long street-sweeping skirts, short ass-flashing skirts, loose skirts, clingy skirts; any kind of cloth that made a tube around my waist and was open between my thighs was okay with me. Today, I was wearing a creeping black mini. It matched my top; black also with an hour-glass shaped cut-out just where my breasts began to curve. I looked gorgeous and I knew it. Then why pray tell was I trembling like a leaf in a Chicago 'breeze'?

It was his fault.

He wandered about the house, getting ready for a date that he was already late to. It was with a woman, but from his hesitation to get out the door, I narrow down her personality to match a root-canalist, an IRS lawyer, or a natural mother-in-law. Why couldn't he just stay with me? It was obvious he didn't want to go on this....date.

I had a date too. I cancelled at the last minute when he called, hence my midnight black outfit. Sigh. What a good babysitter I am.

He bumped into me. Third time today. My heart beat quicker and I turned to smile, angling for his blue eyes with my hazel ones. He smiled back and between my knees and waist: I quivered.

"How are you?" say I.

"Fine. How're you?" mumbles he.

"Also fine. Hot date tonight?"

"Yes. Well.... no. I cancelled."

"Me too, but the date wasn't hot to begin with."

My heart beat faster still. He'd cancelled!

My heart dipped. I no longer had a real reason to be here. What's more, he hadn't added a "not like you..." to the end of his sentence.

I smiled, rocking back and my 2-inch low heels. His eyes flicked low for a second to admire my legs, or something on the ground. Either ways, I twisted my hips and put a bit of wiggle into my step when I turned away from him.

In less than a minute I was back in the room. He leaned lazily against the leather couch. His tan hands outlined bright against the black leather. A dirty thought ran through my mind---I was clearly over-sexed.

"Should I make the call?" I nudged my cell phone out of the purse I'd just retrieved from the kitchen.

"Call? Oh... no don't worry I'll take you home whenever you're ready." his voice was warm, and his eyes stayed fixed on mine.

I shrugged, feeling my breasts bounce braless from once side to another. "It's really your call. You're still paying me by the hour," I chuckled, "and you pay well, so why should I leave just yet."

He wrinkle curled near his lip, almost a smile. "Oh well you're welcome to stay a little longer. Just a little though... I'm not made out of money you know." he winked. It was a playfully little gesture.

I winked back, and stood in smiling silence for what seemed like forever. It was three seconds actually, but I caught my finger twisting around my hour-glass by the time I came to.

"Itchy...." I explained with a blush.

Looking up at him, he didn't seem to be paying attention. He was busy struggling to loosen his tie. I hesitated, taking a step back.

Should I?

Sure.

I stepped forward twice and put my hands over his to stop him. He glanced up at me, perplexed.

"I have smaller fingers than you do. I can do it easier." I said gently, my fingers already teasing apart the knot of his tie. The fabric came loose in my hand and I pulled, pausing afterwards to straighten his collar.

"Thanks. I actually used to have my mother tie, my ties."

What?! "I'm not your mother." I deadpanned. Cold as my voice was, my fingers felt hot as they touched him. Unable to pull away, I tugged a wrinkle out of the blue stripped shirt he was wearing. It didn't match the red tie, I'd undone. My beating heart didn’t' seem to care about the faux pas.

"I know." his hand reached out automatically to steady my trembling. It lingered on shoulder, his finger brushing over my silken black top. "I know you're not my mother. You're too beautiful."

Amber waves of luscious hair. Hazel eyes more than any man can bear.

Milky skin, and oh so thin. Slender hips and full lips.

Killer thighs and bouncy breasts. I pass everyone's "pretty" test.

Of course I was beautiful.

I smiled demurely, forcing myself not to jump him then and there. It might have just been a saying and not a come on. "Thank you." I murmur, a natural blush coming to my cheeks.

"Don't blush. It only makes you look sweeter."

Funny. He'd never hit on me before. I blushed deeper. "Saying more good things about me isn't going to help me blush any less."

"Well...."

"Well what?" well you like me? Well you want me? Well there's something in-between your teeth?

I reached up and nervously brushed a curly lock from my cheek. Tucking it behind my ears, I realized we were standing extremely close together. An inch more and I'd be on top of him, my breasts pressed tight to his skin...er...shirt.

"Well I think you're sweet. I mean... you're gorgeous. I know I said it, but I want you to know I mean it. Sometimes I wish I could date you instead of these girls who never seem to know what they want. You sure have a good head on your shoulders."

I giggling, bouncing onto my tip-toes. My breasts brushed against his shirt, attracting his eyes to a spot happily below my shoulders.

I kissed him.

Our lips met suddenly, squishing together awkwardly at first then slowly ... steadily.... molding together like to parts of a whole.

I pulled away first, my lip stick smearing off onto his cheek. I gasped for air, blushing again.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to...." his voice trailed off as he realized that *I* was the one that kissed him.

"I know. I ... I did it. I couldn't help it."

"You....” whatever he was going to say, it was silenced by another embrace of lips and collision of tongues. I wrapped my arms tightly around him, pulling into a hug. My body tingled against his. Shivering onto him, the nervous trembles didn’t' feel so bad. Under my top, my nipples rubbed silky smooth against the black fabric hiding them. They rose into eagerly hard points, jutting out against my tight shirt. I felt him bulge, his eyes staring into mine, his hips ground slowly into me.

We pushed together hard as if we could go through each other.

This time, he broke off. His cheeks schoolboy red, he stuttered out something unintelligible before deciding it might be best to be silent.

Standing in front of him, I reached back and unhooked my skirt. The thing fell apart easily, and fluttered to the ground. Point of no return reached, I tugged nervously at my black boy shorts underneath. The somber flowery lace caught his eye, and he took a good long stare. I wiggled my hips, and ran my slender fingers between my thighs. My nails scrapped lightly on my soft skin, an electric sensation that didn't end in my legs but traveled up my spine and exploded in my mind. My head swam with ideas.

What to do first? He was so mine.... From the way he shuffled from foot to foot, wagging his obvious bulge in font of me, I figured that anything would do.

I peeled my panties down my thighs, his eyes following my move. Downy amber hair clung around my slit, the thin hairs plastered by sweat and wetness to my skin. Not waiting any longer, I sank a finger into myself. The tingle rocketed up through me as my swollen pink lips eased apart around my finger tip. My face blushed pink. What was I doing? I'd never masturbated around anyone...much less someone I knew who I was sure to see every other day our sexual escapade. A soft sigh escaped his lips. I looked up to see him panting and staring glossy-eyed downward. I wiggled my finger gently, and watched the responsive twitch go through him.

He liked it!

I fingered slowly, trapped in the moment, fixed into place by his gaze. My legs trembled no more, my tight lace boy shorts finding a new use by holding my knees elastically together. My slit quivered around my single finger, flaring apart in pink and red lips. I shivered. I must have been wet all the time I'd been with him. I'd never gotten this wet easily; my juices had never trickled down my leg like they were doing now.

He'd unzipped while I wasn't watching. My eyes flickered up from my active hands and saw his hand reaching inside his pants. My breath caught inside my throat. He fumbled inside for a long while, my anticipation building in my chest till it popped like a soap bubble.

"Please... let me do it... “I slid my hand forward through the tiny space of air between us, "I have smaller fingers, and it’s easier for me." My fingers hooked inside his pants and instantly felt the hard warm throb. I gasped, smacking my lips together. My hand uncurled inside his pants, feeling his shaft pulse against my palm. My fingers wrapped around the shaft, pushing into his boxers and tugging it out and around the cotton fabric.

I barely felt my second finger flinching as it too penetrated into my pussy.

My eyes hazed. This was impossible. I was still reaching and I hadn't found the end of it. I angled my hand, his zipper chafed around my wrist. My fingers spread wider, curling around his shaft, moving closer and closer together. Closer and closer, but not quit touching as I felt his cock jerk into my tight squeeze. I pulled and the tip popped out from the part in his pants. Drenched in pre-cum, the swollen head stared back at me. My eyes bulged and I yelped.

That was the third finger. I definitely felt it this time. My body twisted in spasm, my hand clinging to his shaft in support; I collapsed to my knees all the same. He smiled down at me, a quirky half-moon under his twinkle star blue eyes. I grinned back, looking from my knees and struggling to keep my eyes from fixing on his shaft. Now that it was all the way out, I could see it was clearly huge. Not long, but so thick it seemed to swallow my little hand circled around the base. I shivered. It was big... and at 5ft 4inches I wasn't exactly a match for it.

He stroked my hair, seeming to know what I was thinking. "You don't have to take it all sweetie. Just ----" hesitating to take a deep breath, he caught himself. I knew what he was thinking. He was thinking: here she is...the girl who's babysat for me since high school.... I've practically watched her grow up... and here she is nearly naked, wet, and holding my cock in her hand.

I was thinking the same thing. From my knees, all I could see was cock, thick and throbbing and waiting for me. My fingers twitched inside me, reminding me they were there. I jerked my lips too tight to pull my fingers out. My thighs rubbed together, legs bent to a V on the floor. I forced them apart easing the pressure built to boiling inside me. My inner thigh was soaked with my juices. I smelled them easily. I saw them dripping towards my knees and the floor. Dripping wet on my knees like this, I felt like a slut.

Yet I couldn't be. That's exactly what I told him.... or rather asked him, "Am I a slut? I mean.... Can I be your girlfreind? Please."

Something inside me had broken out, and it was screaming. It didn't speak words, but it made itself known through action. My hand squeezed his shaft. It bulged between my fingers and he shuddered.

"Please take it all sweeties. You want to be...." his voice was almost a sob, his hips thrusting forward and wobbling his shaft against the tight circle of my hands.

"Yes." It was just a word, but shattered any chance of a ordinary relationship between us.

"You want to be my girl?"

"Yes." My heart surged. My thighs squeezed together, forcing my walls to pinch together around my three fingers. "I really want you. I always wanted you.... I want to be with you always." I shivered, looking up at the shaft pressed between my hand "I want to take it all into me... in my mouth and in my ...p"

A few words came to mind for that thing.

He stared quizzically at me. IT was probably too much for him; it was too much for me too, I was just running on momentum and lust. "I want it in my .... I want you to fuck me. Please fuck me!"

His eyes popped open wide and his body surged forward. Before I knew it, his thick shaft had pried past my lips and was pumping hard against my tongue. My head bounced helplessly against him, my eyes spinning dizzily. Quick darts into my mouth set it on fire. Long lingering thrusts made my tongue feel like it was melting into him. He fucked my mouth, bucking wildly into my lips, grunting harder and louder as he pushed in deeper. For my part, I slurped noisily and twisting my fingers around inside my slit.

It felt so warm. I jerked. I quivered. A tickle ran down both my legs, and made my toes curl. I came and soon after so did he---in huge white globs down my throat.

I swallowed.

It was nice.

Yet it would be even better. Tommorrow was Valenties. Tommorrow, with him, would be everything I wanted it to be.

It was just the beginning.

Or was it....

------------------------------- The End -------------------------------