I have been seeing Nick, as friends, for quite some months now. He is a wonderful, complex man, nice, funny, naΓ―ve, clever, unused to girls. We had our first sexual encounter after a show a couple of weeks ago, starting with an innocent kiss, but having wonderful sex against the side of the car. The next time I saw him I remembered how gorgeous he was. I looked covertly at his lovely body, his broad shoulders, slim hips, shapely legs, looking where I shouldn't.... He had on a v-necked top, and I could see his chest, a few moles which I find so cute, and a mat of lovely curly black hair just showing. He had his sleeves rolled up, and I could see his tanned arms, with more curly black hair, so manly, so handsome, so gorgeous, I nearly passed out with desire. I wanted to have him again, this time somewhere where we could take our time, explore each other's bodies, laugh, cry, come together.
At the interval he signalled that I should meet him outside the village afterwards. Somehow we got through the second half, looking, smiling, longing, knowing. We walked to our cars, saying casually "See you later" for other people's benefit. He drove off quickly, and I packed my things into the car in a more leisurely fashion and drove off more slowly.
Outside the village I spotted his car parked up, and stopped behind. I drove behind him to a place where we could both park. He picked up a blanket from the car, took my hand, and we walked, in silence but in anticipation. A blanket β that would mean the ground. Would we be wrapped up together? Would we just be on the blanket, our bodies open to the sky? What was going to happen this time? We reached a spot which he must have found in advance, where we were secluded from the road, but on open ground, with the moon and stars above us. We didn't talk, it would have broken the heady and tense atmosphere.
He spread out the blanket, but stayed standing, and gently drew me towards him. He took both my hands, leaned forward, and kissed me so gently on the lips. I returned his kiss, and he slipped the tip of his tongue just between my lips. I responded with my tongue, and we spent some time just savouring the feel of each other's tongues, exploring each other's wet, soft mouths. After a little while, he drew me even closer, and put one arm round my shoulders, and started stroking my back gently with the other hand.
Gradually he moved his whole body close, and at last I could feel his hard crotch against mine, pressing, rubbing, asking, telling. He leaned me back a little, and started undoing my blouse, stroking my stomach, moving upwards, exploring, to find my pretty lacy bra, with my breasts spilling out. He first squeezed my breasts through the bra, but soon wanted to feel my flesh, and put his fingers down the bra cups until he found my nipples, which soon thrilled to his touch as he pulled them gently, squeezed them, tweaked them, then squeezed a whole handful of breast again. Still rhythmically pressing his hardness against me, thrilling me, mesmerising me, filling me with desire to have him, he gently took my blouse off me, undid my bra, and loosed my ample, soft breasts. My nipples, which are large and pink, stood out in the chill night air. He gently stroked my skin, going over the nipples and squeezing them gently.
The expression in his lovely dark eyes was unmistakable β he liked what he saw, and started to rub his crotch gently through his clothes. I then reached over and undid his belt, just catching his bulge once, then leaving it alone, which made him gasp. My purpose was to undo his trousers, so I could pull out his shirt, and gently take it off him. At last I could see his lovely torso, the strong shoulders, manly chest, dark nipples, curly hair, and the muscles down beyond his waist. I briefly stroked his shoulders and upper chest, but I wanted to run my fingers through that hair, rub my cheek against it, and stroke his nipples too.
I took a couple of steps towards him, so that my sensitive, erect nipples just touched his chest, just brushed against the hair, and I rubbed my breasts gently against his chest. He leaned down and took one breast in his mouth, gently taking a large mouthful and sucking on it firmly. Oh, that felt so lovely! He stayed there a while, alternately sucking and nibbling, then leaning back to look, then doing it again. I started to moan gently with pleasure.
My hands went around the back of his waist, stroking in a line down the centre of the small of his back, which made him arch his back with pleasure. Having loosed his trousers, it was then easy to slip my fingers into the waistband, and start to pull at the fabric. He got the message, and without taking his mouth from my breast, let his trousers fall. He had on tight briefs, white and virginal, being stretched by the shapes within. I could see where his cock had been lying, but was now trying to burst out, to stand erect in its hardness. I could see where his balls were tightened, swollen by the erection, stretching his pants so that I could see pink flesh, hair, groin, shape. I stroked the length of his cock through the pants, several times, which made him moan with pleasure, and a couple of small wet patches started to appear on the pants near the end of his cock. I also put my fingers into the gap in the pants, and stroked the hairy flesh of his balls, stroked the line of his groin, then through the pants again, went right round his balls, and up the length of his cock with my fingers.
By now we were kissing more passionately, and his hands were urgently reaching all over me, not just on the bare flesh above my waist, but also pulling at my clothes. I let him take my skirt off me, so I was standing there in just skimpy panties. He reached for me again, kissing my nipples as before, but putting both hands down the back of my panties and squeezing my bottom, pulling, beckoning. These panties tied with bows at the sides, so I just pulled one end, undid them, and they fell away.
He stood back and looked at me, naked, alluring, at my round breasts, big nipples, round stomach, and now, my private parts too. He saw the little triangle of wispy brown curls, left natural as I know he does not like artifice. He saw the little pink folds of skin protruding, and reached out and gently gripped the curls and twined them round his fingers, as he knew from last time I liked.