A Dream Come True: Tom's Fantasy Fulfilled
My name is Tom, I live in Manchester, where I have lived all my life with my parents, about four miles out from the city centre. People say that it always rains in Manchester, but that's not true. At least it doesn't rain here more than it does anywhere else in the North of England. It's easy to get into the countryside from here. The Lake District is less than an hour's drive away, and it's beautiful there whatever the weather is like, whatever the time of year.
I went to school in Manchester. I finished my A-level exams at seventeen, thinking of going to University like my sister did, but I was offered a job in computer sales. The money was good and it seemed like too decent an opportunity to miss, so I took it. I knew I could do some study later in life if I needed to.
I am fairly quiet. I don't often go out except on occasional drinking sprees with friends from work. Consequently I have never had much luck with women and never had a steady girlfriend.
It was springtime. My sister Jenny was visiting from Leeds, where she had lived for the last couple of years, since finishing university there. Jenny had brought a friend with her to stay for a few days, Jane, who lived in York. I'll never forget Jane, she was twenty-five, the same age as my sister, and I was a nervous twenty year old.
I can remember thinking how hot Jane looked when I first saw her; she had long black hair, a really cute ass and shapely rounded tits, not too big and not too little. She was graceful too. When she entered a room, she didn't just walk in, she glided like a goddess. I thought she was wonderful, but she seemed so inaccessible: too perfect.
Neither of them took much notice of me on that visit. They were far too busy, wrapped up in meeting Jenny's old school friends. They would disappear about eleven o'clock in the morning and not return until at least three o'clock the next morning. One night, they didn't come home at all and I stayed awake, tossing and turning in my bed, wondering where they might have gone.
I became a bit obsessed with Jane. I found myself getting up at ten in the morning and waiting in my bedroom, opening the door just a crack when I heard her come out of her room, trying hard to catch a glimpse of her when she was on her way to the bathroom. One morning I was lucky. She came out of the room with her head turned back, talking to Jenny. She'd obviously just got out of bed and was sleepily tying the chord of her dressing gown, but not before I succeeded in getting a glimpse of her tits, fresh and alluring.
Those few days came and went far too quickly. After they had left, I found I couldn't get Jane out of my mind. When I went to work, I found myself drifting off in the middle of talking to customers. The same thing happened when I went to the pub with my mates; and I jerked myself off every night, thinking about that glimpse of her tits.
I had to do something. I had to invent a reason to travel up to York and see her but the problem was to think of something that would not make my intentions completely transparent. I didn't want Jane to know how much I'd been thinking about her.
Sometimes things happen in life where it's as if someone's looking down on you, smiling. That's exactly what I thought when I got a memo at work asking me to enrol on a training course in some new software that had just been developed. I always go on the training courses, even though they might be a bit boring, because they are useful and they look good on your CV. In addition to that, training courses mean paid time off work, accommodation in a four star hotel, and a few good drinking sessions with the other course members, very few of whom give the 'training' element of the course very high priority.
I was in the process of filling out the application form, when my eyes flicked to the venue. I stopped breathing for a moment. It was the address. I couldn't stop staring at it. The hotel where they were holding the training course was in York! My hand shook as I filled out the form but I was still the first in my department to complete it and hand it in.
That was it: the perfect excuse, just thrown at me. All I had to do now was to say - casually of course - that I might 'drop in' while I was in the area.
A week later, I somehow summoned up the courage to phone Jane.
"Of course, drop round. I'll meet you from the station if you like."
I paused for a few moments, taking in what she had just said. Was she really offering to meet me from the station? I panicked then, having to think of something to say that had to sound like I wasn't bothered one way or the other whether she met me or not: and it had to be quick.
"Well, I wouldn't want you to go to any trouble."
"It's no trouble, I'm not doing very much at the moment. It will be good to see you. When's the course?"
"In a month's time. I have to be there on Monday the seventeenth at nine."
"Well, why don't you come up for the weekend before, make a holiday out of it. I can show you round York. It's a beautiful place."
I could hardly believe my luck. This was just getting better and better. I agreed, trying not to sound over-enthusiastic. I arranged to travel up on the Friday night.
One eternal month later, I was standing at the railway station in York, my heart racing. I could see Jane standing there, waiting. She hadn't spotted me and I stood for a few minutes, just taking in her beauty. When she did notice me, she grinned, smiling with her mouth and her eyes.
As she walked towards me, I felt myself flush with the uncertainty and the anticipation. What if she isn't interested in me, sexually? I'm not sure if I could stand it, after all the waiting. But then again, what if she is?
"Hi Jane," I said, amazed by how cool I sounded, "thanks for meeting me. It's good of you."
"No trouble at all, Chuck," she responded. "Let's go and dump your stuff and then we can decide what to do for the evening."
I threw my case into the boot of her car and we drove to her place, a couple of miles from the station. On the way, we exchanged small talk about how my sister was doing and what I was expecting from the training course. Our talk contrasted completely with what was going on in my head. All I could think about was whether or not we might fuck.
We pulled up outside her flat. It was fairly small, just one tiny bedroom, but a good-sized kitchen and living room combined. The whole place was cluttered; a notice board covered in postcards on the inside of the kitchen door and lots of hippie ornaments and papers scattered about on every surface. It felt really welcoming though, a place to relax.
From the first we seemed to hit it off. After I had recovered from my initial amazement that she would even look twice at me, I found it so easy being in her company. We spent the evening swapping life stories and laughing with each other. I didn't try to have sex on that first night. I was just so pleased that we were together. I did spend an uncomfortable night on the sofa though - restless, wanting to jerk myself off, but not feeling able to in case, for some reason, she came into the room.
The events of the next night will remain sealed in my memory forever. Before Jane, my only sexual experiences had been adolescent fumblings in the back of the car I would borrow from my sister sometimes; uncomfortable, clumsy and predictable, with some girl I didn't really fancy but who I had heard was an easy lay. With Jane it was different.
In the evening, after spending the day walking round York, we decided to stay in and watch a video, a cosy night in, just the two of us. I brought a bottle of red wine, Cotes du Rhone, and we ordered a pizza to be delivered. Jane cleared the papers and magazines off the table and we ate the pizzas, sipping the wine and talking. I was starving, I hadn't eaten all day, my stomach wouldn't settle, being full of the butterflies of anticipation.
After we had cleared the plates away, Jane kicked her shoes off and stretched on the sofa.
"Let's not watch the video yet," she said. "Let's put some music on and talk for a while. You choose the music, something soft." I could tell that the couple of glasses of wine she had drunk had made her slightly tipsy. I felt as if she was thinking about sex too, but I couldn't trust my instincts. Again the seeds of doubt took root inside my head. What if it was just wishful thinking on my part?
"That's fine by me." I said, grinning nervously. I handed her a glass of wine. She took it from me and sipped it slowly.
I put a CD into the player and turned round and looked at her. She was so lovely and sexy, lying on the sofa with one arm behind her head and one hand balancing the glass on her flat belly. My eyes lingered on her tits, which were straining against her tight T-shirt. I longed to slide my hand up inside that T-shirt and caress them, but was afraid that she might object. My eyes flicked up to her face, meeting hers for an instant. She was watching me watching her. My face reddened. I realised that I had been staring.
"It's all right, you know," she whispered. "You can touch them, if you want to."
I could feel my face go even redder and felt a stirring in my cock when she said that. I hesitated for a moment, then I reached out and placed my left hand on one of her tits, letting it rest there, savouring its warmth and softness. I rubbed my hand gently all round and passed my thumb over the nipple, feeling it stiffen. I looked at Jane and noticed that she had become flushed. Her lips were parted and I heard her give a sharp intake of breath.
I took the glass out of her hand and put it on the coffee table, which was placed at the head of the sofa and stood beside her for a moment, just looking. I didn't really know what to do next - I had never done anything like this before.
I had a feeling that Jane was enjoying being watched, so I plucked up the courage to ask her to do something I had been longing for her to do, ever since that first glimpse, coming out of her bedroom.
"Can I see them Jane?" I asked, nervously. I could hear my voice quiver.
Slowly and sensually, she pulled her T-shirt off over her head and dropped it to the floor. I watched while she unclipped her bra and let that drop too. Placing her arms behind her head, she was completely topless now. I felt so aroused. My cock was straining against the material of my pants. Her nipples were pink and hard, contrasting with the whiteness and softness of her skin and she was looking into my eyes smiling and dead cool.
She parted her legs slightly, so I could see her panties, lacy and black, just covering her mound with a few stray wisps of pubic hair escaping either side. There was little damp spot betraying the fact that she was definitely getting turned on. I yearned to see more.
