The lunch invitation had simply been the next thing to do after the incredible kissing in his car the night before. He had not planned that lunch together would lead to sex, just more connecting with Jyll, and then eventually to sex at some point. As the hour approached, he felt a surge of anticipation, arousal, and butterflies tinged with erotic possibility. Something sexual could definitely happen. It was exciting and a little surreal to imagine after going so long without sex.
In his conservative Christian background, he had been conditioned against being sexually aggressive toward women. He had been thoroughly acculturated to project a nice-guy persona, and to take on a "gentlemanly" mindset. In his twenties, he realized later, it had also been an excuse not to take risks by pursuing women. Yes, he had pursued his former wife and won her over, but it was all within the bounds of chastity. He had never adopted the frat-boy attitude of pursuing women with the intention of "scoring."
Until now, he thought. In the aftermath of his divorce, he had resolved to cast off that restraint. Well, it wasn't exactly a frat-boy type of thing, whatever that was. It was his version of being more aggressive, going after what he wanted, and asserting himself, but without being pushy or stupid.
With Jyll, he was soon to discover, things seemed to fall into place, he didn't have to control anything except himself. It just flowed between them. He would take the initiative, and venture to make certain semi-calculated steps, to advance their connection physically and emotionally. There was some degree of risk involved with being the initiator, but he trusted his perceptions and ability to read her. She responded to him, and he went on. It was an exciting dance that involved more art than science. It had been obvious from the night before that the energy between them was intense and erotic, even though he hadn't directly touched her skin beyond kissing.
Jyll came over to his little apartment at noon, right on time. His apartment had been built from the daylight basement of a large home. It was completely self-contained, with a bathroom, kitchen, and a separate entry at the back of the house. There was one large room that served as a kitchen, dining room, and living, then a separate bedroom and bathroom.
He welcomed her at the door and then led her into the little apartment. When he turned to face her next to the dining table, she fluidly stepped into him, her petite body nestling into his arms in what felt like a perfect fit. It was uncanny how every motion they took together seemed to have such a way of feeling just right and completely comfortable but also arousing. She turned her face up to his, and the angle felt exactly right. They kissed.
The kiss was a switch flipped on. It returned them instantly to the passion and intensity of the night before. Only they were not in a car in an empty parking lot. They were in his apartment, where anything felt possible. Few words had been spoken and none were necessary.
They ended up seated on the sofa, without any real pauses. From there they shifted to lying down on the sofa, just going with the flow. He lay on his side, propped up on his left elbow, with her on her back, so they could continue kissing as his hand explored her body more with his right hand. She was in a t-shirt and jeans, and while he had not yet attempted to touch her skin, he was taking in her form with his right hand. She was fit and petite, and his hand enjoyed everything he felt. Like another set of eyes, his hand took in her flat tummy, the modest swell of her breasts, and her trim athletic thighs. The blood seemed to pound through him as the lust inside him flooded his mind. He wanted her more. He wanted more of her.
Like a goddess in his arms, Jyll seemed even more turned on than the night before. It felt intoxicating to him to experience a woman so caught up in arousal. Her imagination had soared on the drive over, and she squirmed in her seat noticing the building wetness even before she had pulled into the driveway behind his car. The arousal had built to a fever pitch, throbbing inside, and it demanded release. She writhed impatiently under his touch and feverishly moaned into their kiss. The intensity of the night before seemed to have impossibly increased. He adjusted her position so that she faced away from him and nestled her ass into him.
Spooning, he nibbled on her neck and enveloped her in his arms. He felt down between her legs now and she opened her thighs to accommodate. Her cries of desire, no longer muffled by the kiss, filled the room, as his hand asserted pressure on her clit through her jeans. She released her need into her cries as his hands explored her body over her clothes.
Sometimes, the indirect pressure is the most maddening.
He knew that his landlords were away and that two elderly ladies were house-sitting. He had heard them earlier when he went into the shared laundry room that was in the part of the basement not included in his apartment. There was no way those ladies were not hearing Jyll's sounds of passion. He didn't care. Maybe it would amuse them to hear it.
How long could this unfulfilled erotic teasing go on?
When he could take it no more, he broke off the sofa embrace and guided her up. Then he led her into his bedroom.
It was a perfect early spring day in New York, and the cheerful sunlight outside sifted into his bedroom with a soft sensual diffusion. It reminded him of Penthouse pictorials from the late 70s, the natural light used so artfully to create each achingly erotic tableau.
Only this was real.
The kissing, touching, and ecstatic sounds continued as they stumbled into his bedroom. Crossing the threshold felt portentous to him. He was crossing over to a new page in his life. He turned her in his arms again, facing her away from him, and began to undress her. She arched her back slowly in the act of being unveiled, and like Venus, her body began to appear. There was a profound sensual grace in the feminine way she moved, and it pierced him with lust and desire.
First, her shirt went over her head, and then her bra fell away, baring her petite breasts to the room. He came close to her then and, reaching around cupped her firm mounds, discovering that her nipples were shaped somewhat uniquely, slender, and long, and...oh, so sensitive.
"I like to have them squeezed," she purred, putting her hands over his as he held her breasts. She leaned back against him and laid her head back on his shoulder. "Pinch them hard," she encouraged.
He was rewarded with her gasp and a deep groan as his fingers tightened. She pressed back against him, nestling further into his embrace, accepting his exploring hands on her body, and expanding the amount of bare skin contact.
She unbuttoned her jeans and together they pushed the tight fabric down over her slender hips revealing a black satin thong. She had a svelte athletic figure, and he felt the bare swell of her hips under his hands as he stroked downward. He relished the sight of her tight ass, and she arched to look back at him as he stroked her bare ass cheeks appreciatively.
The rest of the clothes fell away without awkwardness. His focus was entirely consumed with her erotic beauty as it appeared before him. Later, he reflected on how time seemed to slow down with their movements happening in slow motion. Every part of his psyche sought to take her in, savor her delights, he wanted to know her utterly with his eyes and his hands, with his skin against hers, and with his mouth. These acts of knowing her, stimulating her, soaking in her naked beauty happened simultaneously, and despite his intense focus, it overwhelmed his senses.
They slid onto the bed, never parting contact. He continued to devour her mouth as his hands moved over her body. It felt intuitive, knowing how to tease her, where to explore her, and how to awaken her nerve endings. It reminded him of a poem he had read in an English class once about a man touching his wife, describing her body responding as flowers blooming in the sun. Her responses guided him and rewarded him, and he followed all the delicious clues like a trail of breadcrumbs.
His former wife and he had gone months without sex, yet he had still learned how to occasionally awaken her desire despite her resistance. It wasn't as if his former wife hated sex entirely, but she started from a mindset of suspicion, scorn, and condescension toward his sexuality and his interest in her.
This situation was excitingly different. This was a woman eager to be sexual with him, enjoying his touch. Jyll was participating fully in the experience they were creating together. She had no reluctance about accepting and responding to what he was doing to her.
He had grown up in a very religious family where a subtle, yet pervasive puritanical ethos viewed desire, especially sexual desire, as sinful, ungodly, and unnatural. He had never cheated, never transgressed in violating anyone's boundaries, and even stayed a virgin until the wedding night. Yet he was unable to cease masturbating after marriage. The most common male habit in the world had been his since puberty, but he had always felt guilty about it. He had believed, while he was single and celibate, that sex in marriage would cause the shameful habit to naturally end, but it did not.
To his wife, it was sinful to have any form of sex outside of marital coitus. It was a sin to be aroused by images of the naked female body. She thought of it as objectifying and immoral. She even thought it was wrong for him to look in the mirror while they had intercourse. She refused to allow him to take her from behind because that was too animalistic and impure. She would not allow him to use his mouth on her, and there was no way she would think about taking him into her mouth. The shame he had been conditioned to accept led him to accept her view that he was perverted and that his sexuality was unnaturally distended.
He compulsively felt the need to escape, late at night when she slept, to an imaginary world of sexual freedom, his fantasies consisted of women who enjoyed sex, enjoyed him, and who responded to his.
Yet, here he was, with beautiful Jyll, casting all of this off. It felt magical. It felt liberating. In the back of his mind, a vestige of anxiety coiled quietly. Years of shame imprinting from childhood had conditioned him to worry about the consequences that would be sure to follow. Something bad would occur. It was the law of the harvest. You always reap what you sow. However, he pushed this thought back easily at that moment.
On the bed, their mouths continued their arousing conjoining, and those sensations were overlaid with the waves of pleasure as his skin touched hers down the length of their bodies. It was a definite "ahhh" moment, that first full-body skin-to-skin contact as if their auras had begun to merge. His exploring hands gradually, teasingly approached her pubic area, massaging her tummy, the top of her mound, and her inner thighs. She moaned, hungry for more contact.
His fingers teased along the outside of her outer labia, rubbing along the crease between her thighs and pelvis, running downward under to the indentation between her buttocks and thighs. He enjoyed her trim physique and muscle tone in these secret nether areas of her body. His touch sought simultaneously to stimulate her pleasure and increase her arousal, but also to devour her, to know her even more, and to enjoy her responses.
His mouth moved away from hers to explore her face, kissing over to an earlobe to nibble, then down to her neck taking small playful bites of her there. She writhed under him. He kissed down to her breasts, and she arched in anticipation, presenting her petite mounds to him.
