The Very Long Tease

The first time, he was 24 and I was 22. But that's not the beginning of the story. The beginning was when we met.

He was 21, just turned in fact, and his hair was shorter then.

I was 19.

He was smart and charming. With dark blue eyes, he was good looking in the way round-faced awkward boys could be. He was the first college guy to ask me out.

On the first date, we ate and walked and talked and when the wind kicked up he gave me his jacket. We made out a little in the park. He said he liked kissing me. I said I liked kissing him back.

I almost dumped him a couple times, but invariably he said the right thing and I second guessed myself. He wasn't a jerk. He wasn't crazy. He didn't chase other girls. He read books and could draw with charcoal and pastels. He met my friends and was bashfully brilliant. He met my parents and was quietly polite.

I liked his foreplay, that's what it was. For hours and hours I would let him kiss me and run his soft artisan palms over my skin. I'd listen to him purring his soft masculine purr, and say things about the light and how much it loved to shine just right for me.

Then one day, in bed, after over a year of foreplay he'd had enough.

He told me he loved me and asked me if I loved him and when I said "no" he told me to leave.

I left. Two years passed. I heard about this girl and that and made sure he heard about this boy and that... I went to Spain and sat on mountain tops watching the sea with a boy kissing my neck almost in the same way.

I came back and stayed away, because I knew I'd hurt him. Then one day I'd dialed a number and was listening to the phone ring on the other end.

"Hello?"

"Can I see you, please?"

It was Christmas. I think that's why, after a pause, he told me where.

We walked and talked and he bought me coffee. We'd known each other three years now. His hair was longer, and he'd lost some weight, but his eyes were still the same. I told him I'd been thinking about him.

He nodded and shrugged.

I reached out with my hand and took his as we walked. He stopped and took his hand away.

"Don't," he sighed. We walked and talked some more and then I went home to forget him.

A ringing phone again, this time the machine. "Hey, it's me. The train station? Noon? If your not there I'll cry..."

Noon. He was waiting, he'd grown a beard.

"I was afraid you didn't get the message..."

"I couldn't answer."

"Oh?"

"I was... with someone."

"Oh."

More walking and talking, like we always seemed to do. My mind thinking back to his hands on my skin and his lips on mine. The sun gets low and we've walked for miles, circling the streets.

"You remember," he starts and stops.

We are on a bridge from way back when. I do remember. I want to cry.

"Do you love her?"

"Not really, no."

"Do you have plans tonight?"

"No." "Can I walk home with you?"

Our lips brush and then mesh. He still tastes the same.

"I miss you," he pulled away, moisture on his cheeks. He wiped mine for me. We walked back to his place, in the fading twilight.

We slept, my back pressed against his chest as we lay, naked save for our underwear, on our sides.

In the night, aware of him softly breathing, his hand resting in its favorite place on my hip, the thumb hooking and unhooking, in sleep, the elastic of my red striped cotton panties. In the morning the stiffness in his shorts awoke us and I played with it through the fabric. My bra came off and he kissed my breasts as I climbed on top of him, feeling the pressure of his erection through the fabrics, kissing him as his hands moved from my breasts, around my ribs to my back where one cradled the back of my head and the other moved down along my spine messaging slowly each bump along my spine towards my bottom. His finger tips moved the elastic down and soon I felt his hand against my moistening lips. I sighed as he traced along the opening lightly and moaned as his mouth to the top of my ear where he nibbled and licked and lightly sucked.

"So much..." I said, and his hand stopped pressing against my vulva, his lips released my ear.

"Stop?" He looked up, not angry, but patient.

"Not yet." And I pressed myself back against his hand, feeling my juices beginning to flow freely as he pressed a finger through the tight opening. "I..."

A second finger and I gasped. As he sat up, pressing his chest to mine. "You...?"

I looked into his dark blue eyes, they reflected the little light from the window in the bedroom. "I love... the way you... feel."

"Are you sure that's what you were going to say?" He traced along my jaw with the tip of his nose. His fingers moving fast inside me, around and over the tender places, my panties soaked and the room smelling musty, the muscles of his forearm taught in his ministration.

"Ahh..." I pressed my forehead against his shoulder, clutching him to me in the little burst of ecstasy. I rode it for a few moments, before letting myself fall forward against him. He lay back, taking his hand out of my panties.

Minutes passed and then it was time to get dressed. He was quick into his jeans, a t-shirt pulled over his unruly brown hair.

I took of the panties and put them in my bag. I put on my jeans and bra before he was there and helping me into my blouse. As he did up the buttons I kissed him again.

"You know how I feel..." He said, when the kiss was done.

We were holding each other. It was getting on into morning. "I know. I... want to say it, now."

"You don't have to."

"I love you."

As he drove me home we didn't speak. I kissed his cheek and climbed out in front of the house I shared with friends.

"Tomorrow?" I asked.

He nodded and pulled away. I watched him 'til the end of the block and went in.

Day came and then night, I didn't sleep. My bed seemed foreign now. Impulse to call, Impulse to drive over and make it happen. Day again. Eight, then Nine, then Ten o'clock... A blast from the horn and I ran out and jumped into the car.

"Someplace, anyplace."

He drove as I snuggled and I talked as he listened. The sun was high and the air was warm, the windows were down and when we stopped I climbed out to look at the little park by the river. We walked and talked until we found a little trail to follow off the beaten path.

"Getting lost, are we?"

"Yes," I kissed his cheek and lead him on.

A few hundred yards, just enough to be hidden from the people on the green. A kiss, his hand against the front of my shorts. A popped button, a sucked nipple and then I turned and leaned over against the tree.

The shorts came down and he laughed to see I'd left my panties at home. I felt his mouth press into my folds and I held in my screams, watching the shadows of the people move across the trees at the edge of the little thicket. I reached back to tug a bit at his hair. He came up and I turned and kissed him, tasting myself on his lips. My hand moved down to find the bulge and slowly I undid hid belt and unzipped him.

Taking it in my hand I felt him shudder as I stroked its length softly. And as we listened to the distant sounds of children on the playground, I slowly jacked him to his full size.

He leaned against the tree as I crouched down and let my tongue dance over the tip. I sucked, and licked and moved my fingers under his balls as he panted slightly. Watching his face, I saw his fighting to hold on. I let him fall out of my mouth and I stood.

"I..."

His eyes opened slightly as I took the thing in my hands.

"I think I want to..."

He stood up straight and I took my place against the tree, hiking my skirt and bending forward again, this time watching the tip of his cock as he put it softly on the rim of my pussy lips.

I reached out a hand behind me and he held it as I felt him press softly, slowly, in. I let out a little sound of pain but sucked it in, squeezing his hand. The pain was great but as I felt my virginity slowly open to him, I was aware of him growing closer to me, his arm wrapping around me, pulling me up a bit into a soft embrace. And in a few minutes he told me he was all the way in.

He kissed the back of my neck as he slowly withdrew and then slowly pressed in again. Neither of us spoke as he filled me up again with his girth, but when I felt his hand tighten on mine, and then the hot explosion inside me.

He sighed as he pulled out finally and after a moments collection of self, I felt like I could move again.

I used a tampon from my purse and some tissues. We walked to the car slowly, I leaned a bit on him, thinking and taking in his smell.

On the drive back to his place, I huddled in close. He kept a hand on my thigh, taking it off only to change gears. I took a shower while he cooked dinner, and that night I fell asleep, listening to him read a book out loud.

I was 22, he was 24. That was my first time. He was the only man. I loved him and he loved me.