Wanna Go Upstairs

-You want some coffee? she asked.

-Sure, I answered.

She made some Senseo. Not my favorite, but still.

She sat on her padded chair. I sat across from her on her couch, which had two Saturday newspapers spread out across the rest of it to my left.

-Cheers!

We both sipped hot coffee. She lit up a cigarette. I didn't smoke, and I wasn't so glad of smelling like cigarettes, but I let it go.

We looked at each other. She was wearing a black lace see-through top, showing her breasts and nipples. I was still wearing the dirty jeans from working in my community garden.

We had sent each other encrypted emails the day before.

-What would you like me to wear?

I tried to think of something a bit dirty.

-Something see-through.

So when she opened her door to let me in she was half hiding behind the door, so the neighbors wouldn't see what she was wearing. When she shut the door behind me I saw she was wearing that black lace top.

-Acceptable?

-Definitely.

We kissed. I don't know how she did it, but hers were still the softest lips I'd ever encountered. She gave my crotch a squeeze.

Sitting on her couch, glancing occasionally at her tits, I asked her,

-How's your dad?

-Not good. Since our mom died he's sliding away. My sisters and I visit him a few times a week. I hope it's enough to keep him above water for a while. How are you doing?

-Good. My garden's doing well, too, though there are a bit too many slugs. I don't think anybody has eaten as much lettuce as I have this year.

-Wanna go upstairs?

-You bet.

This was recreational sex at its best.

I followed her up her staircase. On the first landing we stripped. I laid all my clothes over a handrail, nothing on the floor. I didn't need any stray long hairs on my clothes. We turned to each other, naked, and kissed.

She was taller than me. She put my dick between her legs and rode me, standing.

I grabbed her by the ass and thumped her against me.

And then she backed off and grabbed my dick.

-Follow me, she said, and pulled me towards her bedroom, like a puppy dog on a leash.

But I stopped before the open door.

-Pull down the shades.

I didn't need any of her neighbors putting movies of us on YouTube.

The shades went down. The bedspread was all turned over to the foot-end: it was a warm spring day, shortly after noon, and we had about two hours to play around.

Angie and I were old colleagues turned friends. During short farewell kisses she always held on just a second too long. I got the feeling it was sort of a tease. So one afternoon when I was leaving her house I called her tease. I gave her a farewell kiss, disengaged and then returned for a sexy kiss, tongue and all. She was ready for it. She gave me tongue back without a blink. So she'd been baiting me all along! She propositioned me: she wanted to have sex with me. That wouldn't be easy, because I was living with someone. I'd think about it.

So there I was, in bed with her, still thinking about it. She laid on her back, with her left arm out. I laid on my side, with my neck on that arm. We kissed. She tickled my balls, slapped my dick and massaged my perineum. Where'd she pick up all those little tricks?

Then she switched to mildly jerking me off while we had those soft kisses again.

When I'd had enough of that, I changed the game. I got on top of her and pushed my cock down her crotch. Sometimes your cock disappears down a cunt, sometimes, if you push a bit farther and harder, down an ass. I was taking it easy, aiming for her cunt.

Suddenly I got inside. Because it was wet and roomy, I assumed it was her cunt.

I did her slow. She lifted her knees and spread her legs to take it deeper. I picked up speed. We eyed each other like two little devils.

While I was pumping away I got a flash of us the first time we had sex. A few days after her indecent proposal she had asked,

-Would you like a hand-and-blow job from me for your birthday?

Later that day I emailed her (encrypted),

-See me, feel me, touch me, heal me.

I think she got the idea.

On my birthday she invited me upstairs, asked me to strip and just marveled at my stiff cock. She tied a ribbon around it as if it were a present. Her present, even though it was my birthday. I sat down on a wooden chair, and she lavished attention on my cock. It had been three long years since she had had sex with her ex and she was hungry.

It was like a Buster Keaton film, starting out really slow, with her enjoying my inner thighs, but finishing four times as fast, her mouth going up-and-down on my cock faster than I've ever seen or felt before. I celebrated my birthday with a wild shot of cum down her throat that she swallowed like a thirsty girl. I was so numb from the waist down I had a hard time bicycling home.

Back on the farm, back in her bed, I felt myself close to cumming. I always had to fight against cumming too soon, and feeling guilty didn't help any.

I pulled out of her twat, licked my way down her stomach and went down on her. Nice and gentle, with both of her thighs in my arms. I wasn't quite as expert with my tongue as a lesbian might have been, but she didn't object.

She found my right hand, took it off her thigh and said,

-Two fingers.

So I fucked her with two fingers.

After a while she said,

-Four.

I found it a bit much, but I fucked her with four fingers. I hoped she wasn't going to demand a fist.

She didn't. She was getting really turned on. I could hear it.

But she pushed me away.

-I don't want to cum yet. Do me doggy. Then I can masturbate from underneath.

That was a tough call. Doggy and guilt didn't mix very well. I was too sensitive. But I gave it a shot.

I didn't whack away at her; I took it nice and slow, trying to think about other things. I let her whack away at herself, which she did quite well. But even then, after a while, it got to be too much for me, I pulled out, pushed her over on her back and laid on my side next to her. I took a few seconds to fight cumming and calm down.

I thought back to the couple of times that I was having such a problem with two-timing my girlfriend that I didn't want to fuck with Angie.

-No problem, she said, we'll do a Bill Clinton. Oral sex isn't sex.

And there I was, sitting on her couch in only a t-shirt, with her going down on me and both of us really enjoying it.

If we sat in her garden in back we talked about plants and gardening, wary of neighbors. But indoors, on her couch, she had my cock in her mouth. Often enough, to repay her, I'd finger-fuck her.

I remember another time she said she was depressed. That was kind of the way she was. I apologized that I didn't have a magic wand to cure her.

-Oh, but you do!

-I should have felt that punch-line coming.

But now I was laying next to her, ready to go again. I lifted her near leg, thrust my top leg between hers and got us into a scissors position. This was easy for me. Not much risk of cumming too soon. And you couldn't get much more intimate than this. We were close. We kissed. I got to finger her clit. This was what Sunday was made for: intimacy, heaven on earth.

When I got turned on enough and decided to go in for the kill, I disengaged and propped myself up above her on both arms.

-Ready to die?

We smiled at each other like two sexed demons. She spread her labia with a few fingers.

-Ready when you are.

My dick went back up her cunt. Aggression always seemed to counteract guilt quite well. I whacked away at her cunt in push-up position. She whacked away at her clit. We both looked like we were hurting, but there's a thin line between pleasure and pain during sex.

It actually took quite a long time: I shot my wad first, barking like a baboon. She came a few seconds later, screeching like in a horror film. Her neighbors would know. My girlfriend would hear about it eventually.

We'd cum so hard and got so relaxed after that we actually fell asleep together. Not a good idea when you have a limited time schedule. When we woke up, laying on our backs, she said,

-You've got nice legs.

I raised one, then the other, off the bed to look at them.

-Nice, athletic. I'm jealous.

We compared legs in the air.

-Time for a shower? I asked.

-OK.

She got off her back, gave my wet little dick the sweetest kiss it ever got and went to the shower to turn it on and warm it up.

Under the shower there was no sex, not even kissing or touching. Just me washing up, trying to remove her smell, and her doing more or less the same.

Downstairs we had another coffee.

When I finally left via the back door and her garden, where no neighbors could see us, she held my dick through my jeans and whispered in my ear,

-Come by any time, often and hard.

Oh, I was getting hard again. It was the often that I was having trouble with.