Adria was a very beautiful woman with stunning brown eyes, a petite thin nose and full lips that opened slightly into a very sexy, demure smile as she talked. Her hair was cut short exposing a long, delicious neck. Her small breasts were perky, something I always found exciting on a woman. When I first met Adria I remember how alluring her athletic body was to me and I immediately figured she was an athlete or, perhaps, a dancer.
Her body had a classical line that exuded a shy, but confident elegance. As I began going out with her, I often felt a great pride as I walked alongside her. Yeah, I have to admit, I loved going out in public with her, just to show her off. It was almost like I would cry out, "Hey, look at me, I'm with the most beautiful of all the women here."
I guess, as beautiful as she was, I was shocked when I learned from her that she was a virgin. Well, perhaps not entirely shocked, because, although she was what I would call a very sexy woman and in her mid thirties, there was the matter of her hands.
It was something I was afraid to ask about and on our first several dates she never really mentioned them. I just figured they were something she would talk about sooner or later.
Sure, there were moments on those first few dates that were awkward for me, I mean I always felt a tingling excitement first holding a woman's hand as I walked with her. On our first date I felt my hand oddly dangling next to her, occasionally brushing against the cold, steel claw like apparatus. I recall the great sense of relief I felt when she slipped her arm under mine and I felt the flesh just below her elbow rest on my forearm.
Thinking of how we progressed with the sexual aspect of our relationship I recall a similar nervousness. My arm around Adria's shoulder seemed natural enough, so sliding my hand down to caress her breast while I kissed her was easy, but from there I was at a loss. It seemed the next natural step was me moving my caresses down her body with some similar reciprocation from her to follow, but suddenly the image of the cold metal of her prosthesis closing on my cock seemed horrifying.
Rather than take that next step, I kept my attention above her waist, exploring and enjoying the small, soft breasts and the dark large nipples. I'd spend hours toying, kissing and sucking her nipples and breasts, savoring the feel of them on my hands, face and chest, while nervously avoiding moving my attention down between her legs. It's not that I didn't want her, God, I ached for her. I could even tell from her response that any move I made in that direction would be welcomed.
Finally, late one evening after an extended, basic high-schoolish make out session with a lot of attention on Adria's breasts, I was getting ready to leave when she asked, "It's so late, why don't you just stay here this evening."
Glancing at my watch I replied, "It is late, I guess I can crash on your sofa."
She looked toward the sofa and then back at me, looking intently into my eyes as she replied, "Sure, the sofa is nice, but I'd rather you stay in my bed. Steven," she paused, taking a deep breath, "I want you to make love to me."
I moved closer to her, ran my hand through her hair, noticing myself trembling just a bit, and then kissed her gently on the lips. Holding out my arm, I waited until she slipped her arm around mind and then I followed her into her bedroom. Once inside I reached to her disheveled blouse, unbuttoning the one button I had not unfastened as we made out on the couch. Gently tossing the blouse onto a nearby chair, I was about to reach around to unhook her bra when she reached behind herself and nimbly unhooked it, letting it fall to the ground.
I felt butterflies in my stomach and realized I was probably as nervous as she was. Reaching up to unbutton my shirt, I felt her metal claw push my hand aside and one by one she unbuttoned my buttons and eased my shirt off. I was mesmerized at the dexterity she showed and simply watched as she gently pinched my belt with one hand while pulling back on the other, unfastening it. She handled my zipper and pants button with equivalent dexterity as I watched my pants fall to the floor.
She stepped back to unfasten her skirt as I grabbed the waistband of my jockey shorts, stretched it over my hard cock and then one by one pulled both legs out of them. Adria had removed her skirt and I watched as the steel pinched on the delicate fabric of her panties and slid them down her legs. Sitting on the bed, she leaned back and scooted herself back using her elbows.
