It was good. To my surprise, it was better than good. His tongue in my mouth was alive, like some beautiful snake, flicking and pushing and sliding against my own tongue, floating against the roof of my mouth, tasting the insides of my lips. Sliding, flickering, feather light pushing, tasting, his lips locked to mine. Without warning, without removing his lips from mine, he withdrew his tongue, gently sucked mine deep into the warmth and wetness of his own mouth and now it was my tongue tentatively reciprocating.
Heart pounding, eyes wide, pressed against him, his arms around me, my tongue explored, tasted, slipped over his before he took control again. His tongue sliding back into my mouth and now it was me doing the sucking, eagerly. His arms held me as we kissed, held me and stroked me, my arms, my shoulders, my back, setting me on fire. More than anything else, I wanted him to run his hands over the rest of me and I was pushing myself against him, aching for more and his hands were on my hips.
"Ooohhhh..." A small gasp escaped my lips as his mouth lifted from mine, both of us breathing hard.
Trey's hands squeezed my hips, pulling me tight against him. Suddenly aware of his bulging length underneath the fabric of his jeans, my heart fluttered. My gasp of surprise was audible to both of us. Almost, almost, I pushed myself away from him but something inside me told me to wait, to stay where I was, held tightly against him, looking up into his eyes and I did. I waited, breathed in sharply, one shuddering gasp after another, half closing my eyes, feeling his hard erection pressing against me through our clothing while I waited, for what I wasn't sure.
Hidden away in the sacristy, Trey's hands ran over my back, my shoulders, my face, brushing my cheeks, my hair. I was trembling as one of his hands slid around between us, closing firmly over one of my breasts. His hand pressed against me, cupped my small breast through the fabric of my shirt and the light cotton of my bra. I felt his grip tighten on me, touching me where no guy ever had and then his other hand was there, slipping up to the collar of my shirt, his fingers working free the buttons one by one.
In the still silence of the sacristy, I could hear the snap of each button being worked free, feeling more and more of me being progressively exposed as his fingers worked their way downwards. I was trembling as he unbuttoned me, shaking even, but that hand on my breast, teasing my increasingly sensitive nipple through my bra held me enthralled until my shirt was complete unfastened, wide open, exposing my skin to his fingers. Now I looked down. Looked down between us to see as well as feel his fingers brushing across my stomach, his skin white against my silky olive brown.
I looked down and then I looked up as his hands slid around to my back and casually, easily, his fingers unhooked my bra. That sudden release of tension as he worked the hooks free told me what he had done, my breasts quivered as their constraining support was released. Suddenly shy, I turned away from him, only to find both his hands sliding my bra up, exposing both my breasts, cupping them, caressing me, rolling my nipples under his fingers, all while that bulging hardness now pressed firmly against my butt. Both his hands were on me, squeezing me, massaging me, new sensations washing through me.
Shyness and embarrassment overtook me. I'd never exposed my body to a man before, never and even excited and as I was, I was shy. Shy but excited. Embarrassment. Pleasure. Excitement. A growing warmth, a tightness in my stomach, a throbbing wet heat in my sex that almost scared me with its intensity.
Looking down, I could see my nipples. Reddish brown, swollen, rubbery hard, larger than I had ever seen them as they rolled under his fingers, his thumbs. He was tall enough that the top of my head came to just beneath his chin and my head was leaning back against his shoulder, my mouth wide open, panting, whimpering, gasping as his hands explored my breasts while that hard bulge pressed firmly against my butt. Held, helpless, stunned at the speed with which everything had happened, hung there, suspended in pleasure.
"Trey." My voice held helpless longing, desire, confusion, shame and excitement, all in one word. "We shouldn't...." I was a good girl. A good Chinese girl and he was doing to me what a good Chinese girl should never let happen. Not until she was married. Or at least engaged. Least of all in Church. Worse still, in the sacristy. "Trey..."
"Jenny." His voice held his desire for me, male dominance, assertiveness, want, confidence, passion. He silenced me with a firm squeeze of my breasts with both hands. His face buried itself in my hair, he took a deep, sensual breath, inhaling my scent, shuddering as he pressed against me, the hard promise of his bulging length pressing firmly against my butt.
It'd finally dawned on me what that hardness was. High School biology classes and those sex education lessons suddenly made more sense as I felt him pressed firmly, solidly against my butt. His fingers and thumbs took my swollen nipples, squeezed them, tugged at them, achingly delicious sensations as his hardness ground against me.
"Ooohhhhhh." Eyes half closed, I cried out at that forceful caress, a cry loud enough to carry through the silence of the Church, loud enough to have been heard if there'd been any listeners. Fortunately, there were none and my cry died away, faded to a muffled whine as I bit down on my bottom lip.
"Ooohhhh." I sobbed again, quietly as I watched him roll my rubbery-full nipples between his thumbs and his forefingers. Without experiencing the pleasure that rippled through me when he did that, I would never have believed how good it felt, how much I wanted him do it again. Watching his fingers, feeling his fingers on me, I knew my Mom had been right all along. Gweilo boys, they wanted hanky panky with pretty Chinese girls.
Trey was a gweilo boy.
"Ahhhhh." He did it again, he rolled my nipples and I whimpered, then whimpered again as he tugged and twisted them. It went on and on, my nipples swollen hard, standing straight out, impossibly sensitive, impossibly large and hard under his fingers, my hands unable to resist, moving to rest over his, wanting to feel his hands moving on me as well as watch them.
"Your breasts are beautiful, Jenny," he breathed into my hair as his hands continued to caress me. I shuddered, rocking with him now as his hips started to move, to push against my butt, promising more, leaving me limp. I watched his hands as they gently cupped me, held me, tormented me. A guy's hands on my naked breasts for the first time, stroking them, brushing my nipples, teasing them. The sight and feel of his fingers on me enthralled me.
When his hands guided me around to face him again, I made no resistance. None. My arms went around his neck, my mouth opened to his, I accepted his tongue within my mouth as if it belonged there. His hand on my back, under my shirt, on my skin, urging me closer to him; that hand had me shivering with delight. It was the other touch though. The one that had found its way under my skirt as he turned me. The one that was on my panties, touching me where a good Chinese girl shouldn't be touched until she's got that engagement ring on her finger.
That's what my Mom said.
"Trey ... Trey ... stop it." Only, I was way too young to even be thinking of engagement rings. I was still at High School. My last year at High, okay, but I was Chinese. My Mom said I wasn't supposed to do anything like this with boys. Especially not gweilo boys who'd do their best to take advantage of a pretty Chinese girl.
Which made me wonder about my Mom, just momentarily. She seemed to know a lot about gweilo boys and what they did. How did she know all that? Then I forgot all about my Mom.
"Ohhhhh ... ohhhhh, Trey." Oh god, his fingers. They must have some sort of magic spell worked on them too. He was touching me through my panties and I was so wet, so sensitive. His fingers, they were doing things to me. Hot wet ripples of excitement washing through me, turning me to jelly. Molten jelly as he kissed me. As his fingers brushed me where I was so sensitive. So receptive.
"Ooohhhhhh. .... Ohhhh , Trey .... we shouldn't." Soft little moans of excitement as his fingers caressed me, featherlight on me, delicately teasing and tempting. I knew we shouldn't. But we were. He was. I wasn't stopping him. "We shouldn't Trey, not here." What his hand was doing to me was something a guy's hand shouldn't be doing to a girl in the sacristy at Church. No way.
I shuffled my feet a little further apart, shivering, inhaling his scent. Making more room for his hand to touch me where it shouldn't.
"What if ... what if someone comes?" We wouldn't know, not in here, out of sight.
"You're right." Trey kissed me again. "Come on, we need to be able to see if anyone's coming."
That wasn't what I'd meant but it didn't matter. He walked me backwards out of the sacristy, backing me out towards the altar, flicking the light switches to turn the lights off as we left the sacristy. Hidden in the shadows, he backed me all the way to the altar, pushing me up against it so that I was half sitting on the edge, my back to the entrance. Trey could see though, and inside the Church, with the lights off, it was dark up here.
Dark enough that we could see anyone out in the concourse long before they opened the doors into the church. With a sigh of relief, I gave my mouth up to Trey's kisses once more, my shirt hanging open, my little white cotton bra pushed up around my armpits. His hand under my skirt, cupping my sex through my white cotton panties. Pressing against me through that thin cotton. My sex seemed to pulse against his hand with a flooding wet heat that held me so that I was incapable of movement.
