Some Rules Are Made To Be Bent

I never thought it would end up like this...

Seeing her crawling, up from the foot of the bed toward me, that look of hunger and anticipation in her eyes, like a well too deep to see the bottom, was something that rendered me speechless. It's dim in the room, and I sense, her rather than see, her dip her head slightly to run her bottom lip over the tip of my left nipple. She nibbled slightly up my neck and ended in a kiss that was for me a world changing event, on par with the fall of the Berlin wall perhaps, or the end of WWII. Nothing could have prepared me for that kiss... and the warm, sensual wetness of her. Finally, slowly sliding inch by inch...

I probably should tell you how this came about, rather than just starting with the good part shouldn't I? It seems a little unfair to give you the climax without the foreplay..., no pun intended.

I won't say from the moment I first saw her, I knew I wanted her, but it wasn't long after that. It wasn't the devil-may-care hair cut that looks just put together, but must have taken hours, or the way her hips swayed seductively under those tight fitting jeans, or even the jaunty way she smoked her cigarettes, the coals dancing in the semi-darkness. If you had asked me then, I would have said it was her looks, or her attitude, or the way she introduced herself. "Hi, I'm Kaitlin..., Hi, I'm Chris." Looking back, I'd say it was just her. The combination of everything that, when added together, build someone who makes my day better just by sending me a text message.

Fuck it... I'm rambling now, and I know it makes me sound like an idiot, or like fucking Ron Howard with a hard on. So I really am going to get on with telling you the story now... I promise.

I think the moment when I started to covet my best friend's girl was the first time I heard her moaning and screaming through the wall. Calling Steve's name as I lay there, intentionally not making a sound, but envisioning me lying under her, instead of him, with her softly sloping breasts bouncing gently over me, as she forces herself down on my cock, pulling more and more of me into her slick tightness, until she has taken my entire length into her. I dream of relishing the feel of her clit grinding on my pelvic bone, and of feeling her having that first orgasm, the orgasm that only someone experiencing sex for the first time can have. The quickness of her breath, like a gust of passion in my ears, giving way to the sharp moans between gasps as her pace quickens, and finally the screams, as her body is rent by orgasm, and the feel of her as the sweetness flows from her body to coat my still thrusting hips and thighs. I'd put a finger between us, allowing it caress the bud of her clit and covering it with the thick girl cum still flowing from her newly stretched sex. I'd relish the taste, warm honey, and the texture, liquid silk, flowing across my tongue. I'd slow, allowing her to enjoy the sensation of me sliding out of her, and back in, slowly, almost exquisitely. I'd pull her toward me, and kiss her again as I roll to the side, allowing her a reprieve of my throbbing cock. With her on her back, I begin to kiss down her body until I reached the warmth of her slit. Her clit, still a tiny pebble, responds to my tongue, and her breath quickens again. With me alternating between her clit and her still dripping hole, she pushes toward me, flooding me with the taste of her. Her scent invigorates me, that secret girl smell, that smell Coco Chanel has been trying to recreate since the 1950's. As I lay there, the vision leaving me, I hear the shower come on in the other room. I sleep.

It was nine grueling weeks later until I finally got my chance to live the fantasy that had dwelled on nearly every night since then. By that time, Steve had fucked up his life completely, and I had discovered someone I had more in common with than I did with my ex-fiancé. I never realized how different it could be with her, until a cloudless, yet stormy, night in August.

"I'm never going to be ready in time," I think for the three hundredth time. She is going to be here in seven minutes... or is it six now? Did I remember to take out the trash...? Did I remember to clean off the coffee table...? Fuck it I guess... It's too late to do anything about it now. The doorbell rings, as I mist on the cologne that I bought just for her.

"Coming," I call down the stairs, hoping she will hear. I race toward the door, then stop 10 paces away, and walk calmly up, praying she didn't hear me thundering down the stairs.

"Hi," she beams as I open the door. A gentle hug, almost cursory, and my spirits fall slightly. Is this date going to be as cordial and plutonic as all the others? Will she end up leaving my house smiling to go see someone else she is really interested in? Should I even bother trying...?

"So what are we up to tonight?" she asks innocently, glancing up from her survey of my living room.

"I know how much you hate surprises, but it's a surprise." That look from her that says "You're being an asshole, but I'm going to let you get away with it this time, just because you're paying. She has no idea, I've booked reservations at one of the nicest vegetarian restaurants in town, and then I've brought a book of love letters to read to her by the lakeside.

Dinner goes well, quiet, polite conversation that gives no indication of where the night will end. She seems to enjoy the theatre as well, and she takes my hand during the saddest part of Act III, while silent tears well in her eyes.

We make it back home, laughing and joking, but semi-awkward in the growing tension. As I move to the kitchen, to put the leftovers in the fridge, she comes up behind me.

"Why don't you make me a drink?" she asks innocently, but the look in her eyes is nothing even approaching candid. I make the drink, only splashing the vodka into the glass to flavor it, keeping in mind she has do drive home. A martini for me, and we make our way back to the dimly lit living room. She sits down on the couch and I ask if she wants to watch television. "How about some music?" she chimes, again with that pseudo-innocence. I put on an instrumental tango, and put out my hand to her. A raised eyebrow is all I get in return so I pause the music.

"Come on, it'll be fun, like the karaoke," I say reassuringly, and she stands, unsure of what to do exactly. I begin to lead as the assassin's tango plays over the house. We begin to dance, sex standing up, and as I dip her our eyes meet, and finally the moment is right. I lean toward her, still supporting her, and gently kiss her. Though the kiss is short-lived and there is only the briefest touch of tongues, I am immediately overcome with a longing to repeat it. I resist, barely, and I am still able to finish the dance step with a twirling flourish, ending her on her feet, and looking directly into my eyes. She steps forward, meeting my lips hungrily, and wraps her arms around my neck. As the kiss breaks, her face flushes and she walks over to the table and takes her drink, and finishes it, then smiles at me, and takes me by the hand.

As we make our way into my bedroom our kisses becoming more frantic, and our clothes becoming looser. Finally we make it to the bed, and I fall into it as she is strips off the last of her clothes. As she moves toward the end of the bed, the only thing that runs through my mind is,

"I never thought it would end up like this."

She moves up the bed toward me, keeping her eyes on mine, and giving me a look that nearly drips with sexual tension. As she makes her way up my body, her left nipple grazes the tip of my cock. As I see the tiny bead of pre-cum that has leaked out of me coat her nipple, I realize there is no doubt in my mind that action was on purpose. She sits up, astride my thigh, and gently licks the glistening juice off her breast. I pull her closer to me, and kiss her again, this time tasting the salty taste of me on her lips. She begins to rub her self against my cock, spreading her juices all over me. The feeling is exquisite, like being massaged with rose oil. As she gyrates on me, I lean up and flick my tongue across her nipple. She arches her back, and the tip of me enters her. She licks her lips and pushes herself farther down on to my throbbing sex. In one fluid motion I bring my hips to meet hers and enter her all the way to the hilt of me. She gasps, not expecting the entrance, but not pulling away either. As she gyrates on me, I can feel her squeezing me tighter and tighter, nearing orgasm. Suddenly, she begins to moan, softly at first, and only then when she reaches the back most point of her circle, when she rubs me against her sensitive G-spot. Her moans slowly change to screams of pleasure, and her slow circles around me change to sharp thrusts, back and forward now, and instead of sliding over the entirety of her sweet slickness, only the head of me rubbing continuously over the softest, most responsive part of her. I feel myself getting close to orgasm, as she begins to call out my name between screams, and as she orgasms, she stops moving on me, leaving me on the brink of ecstasy. She lifts herself off me, and whispers, "I want to taste myself on you." I can hardly believe what is happening as she takes my entire length into her mouth. I feel her tongue rubbing over the extra-sensitive head of my cock, and as she sucks her own juices off my sex, I begin to spasm into her mouth, mixing my cum with hers, and she drinks both down with relish.

She slides back up to me, and slips the head of still soft cock into her luscious slit, and once again coats me with that delicious honey. She gently bites my neck, and pushes my sex into her with her fingers, sharing her sex between me and her hands, and causing me to harden again almost instantaneously.

"I want you to cum inside me," she says, without taking her mouth off my neck, and I nod. I grasp her hips, and take control of her. I pin her hands with mine and begin to lift my hips off the bed, thrusting her into the air repeatedly. She is still so wet from the earlier orgasm; I immediately fall into a rhythm that pleases both of us. As her juices flow over me, I push myself as far into her as I can, and spray jet after jet of my thick cum into her, pushing her over the edge, and causing her to orgasm simultaneously. I pull out, leaving her dripping with our shared spends, and gasp.

She moves back toward me with her eyes full of fire, and whispers in my ear that she doesn't have to go home, that she wants to stay with me all night. And with that thought still resounding in my head I feel her gently grasp the, already hardening, most sensitive part of me and say, "Why don't we make the most of it?"

END?

-CF

July 23, 2008