Those Spanish Eyes

The droning, monotone voice of the teacher seemed more and more like a background noise, and I was severely bored. I had paid to take this class, and holy shit! It was beginning to drive me up the wall in boredom. I looked around at the other people in the classroom, seeing that they were as bored as I was.

There was more than a few pretty cute girls, and one really beautiful one. Rosa, this amazing Spanish woman, sat only a few desks to my right, twiddling her flowing, almost black hair, brushing the end of a lock across her full, glossy lips as she stared off into space. She was no older than twenty, but definitely older than eighteen. I took off my hat, brushing my hair back with my hand. Sometimes it was necessary to wear a hat to tame my hair a little. Donning my hat again, my eyes drifted over to where Rosa sat in a pair of thigh-high, white shorts and a spaghetti-strap tank-top. She was still drawing a tress across her lips, but she was no longer staring off into space.

Instead, she was staring at me, and at first, I thought she was looking right through me. Then she smiled as I looked back at her. I smiled slightly, seeing that she wore a slim ring on her ring-finger. Of course, she had to be married; only the hottest ones seemed to be taken.

I tore my eyes off her big, brown doe-eyes with some difficulty, checking the clock on the wall of the classroom. 'Thank God,' I thought to myself. It was time for class to be over.

I grabbed my book bag and stuffed my Sociology textbook into it, following it with my notebook. We all flowed out of the classroom, chased out by the professor's warning of a possible quiz in the next few days. I walked out to my car, a beat-up Corolla, tossed my bag in the bag and started it. I had left the volume up on my radio on the way to class, and after a few seconds, it was suddenly overwhelmingly loud. As I turned it down, a shadow fell across me, and I looked up.

Rosa, her purse slung on her shoulder, looked uncomfortable just standing there, like she was embarrassed.

"Hi," she began, hesitated for a minute, tucking a few strands of her hair behind her ear.

I nodded, "Hi Rosa, what's up?"

"Um, I need to ask a favor."

I shrugged, "Sure, what do you need?"

"Well, my friend, Carly, was supposed to drive me home, but she has to stay for some thing. I was wondering if you could drive me home."

I agreed, and cleaned off the passenger seat of random items, such as junk mail that usually stayed there after I checked the mail, a pack of gum, and a few c.d.'s. She set her purse down on the floorboard, and got in, giving me a split-second glance at her full, round butt. Her legs were naturally tanned, and appeared to be quite smooth. I rolled the windows down to let some fresh air into the car, knowing it smelled like fast food. I'm one of those people that let crap pile up in my car, and I know it, but I usually procrastinate when it comes to cleaning it out until absolutely necessary. I wished that time had come before class.

"Which way do you live?" I asked, backing out of the parking spot.

"Barrett Heights, the south end," she buckled her seat belt.

"Really?"

"Yeah, I live there with my roommate."

I was taken aback, "Roommate? I figured you were married, or engaged or something like that."

She rolled her eyes, "Well, I was engaged, but that didn't work out."

My eyes left the road and I glanced over at her, "You're still wearing a ring."

She lifted her left hand and twirled the ring around with her right, smiling dryly, "I keep it on to remind me that he left me, you know, just in case he comes crawling back. Apparently, he decided that after only a month of planning a wedding he wasn't really prepared for married life."

I was incredulous, "Why would he propose if he didn't want to get married?"

She laughed every bit as dryly as she had smiled a minute ago, "So he could get laid."

I thought I might have a chance to be her rebound, but I found that I couldn't say anything that would help achieve that. Stupid conscience! Instead I noted aloud, "Seems like a stupid thing to do just for sex."

She glanced over at me, her eyes narrowed slightly, apparently thinking that my criticism was aimed at her.

"I mean for him," I clarified quickly.

"Oh. Yeah, I guess it was. It was my fault as much as his, though. I should've made it clearer that I expected more from him than sex. I was just so happy that someone proposed to me, I let it go."

Before our conversation could go any further, she changed the subject, "I live on the third street on the right, Cheshire Circle." I looked for the street sign, and when I found it, I turned onto the street. She pointed out the little house, a one-story pad, and when I pulled up into the driveway, she picked her purse up, began to get out, and then stopped, looking back at me for a second or two.

"Listen," she seemed unsure, "Since you're here, do you want to come in? I can get you a soda or beer or whatever, if you want."

It's not like I had other plans, so I just pretended to think about it. As if coming to her senses, she quickly added, "You know, nevermind. I'm sure you've got somewhere else you have to be."

"Well," I grinned, "Nothing that can't wait awhile. If, that is, you haven't changed your mind, I could use a soda."

She seemed tense as I followed her through the front door. The living room and kitchen were separated by a counter, both being pretty small. The furniture looked far from new, but was still in decent shape. She had me sit down on the sofa and she went into the kitchen, looking in the fridge for a second. The counter blocked my view of her as she bent down briefly to get a couple cans, but I imagined it was quite a view. When she stood up, she had two cans of Coke.

"Are you sure you don't want a beer?"

I shook my head, joking, "No thanks. Beer makes me think I'm somebody."

She laughed and brought me the can. She opened hers and took a swig. Fascinated, I watched the muscles in her slender throat as she swallowed the soda. Then I hurriedly opened my can and drank from it.

"Do you have any idea of what we were supposed to be learning in class today?" she asked, trying to relieve the awkwardness and tension.

"Huh?" I found myself staring right into her eyes, and looked away, "Oh, not really. The professor droning on about whatever he was talking about almost put me to sleep. It's like having a noisy box fan in the background."

She nodded, "I know what you mean. I only took the class because it's required. I just can't get interested in it."

We talked of trivial things, mostly our majors and how many credits we still needed. However, instead of relieving the tension, it instead built up. She seemed like she wanted to say something, but whatever it was, she continued to talk about other things.

"So," she cleared her throat, "Do you live around here, or are you just here for college?"

"I live about fifteen minutes north of here, in Hereford."

Soon we were running out of things to talk about, and, finally, in an innocent tone, seemingly devoid of any agenda, she asked me, "Was your girlfriend expecting you home soon? If you need to go, it's cool."

I laughed a little, "If I have a girlfriend back at my apartment, somebody needs to inform me about it. No, it's just me."

She smiled, taking a sip of her drink, saying no more about it, but the tension eased slightly.

I took my time with my drink, nervous, yet not really wanting to lose my excuse for being there. She set her can down and stood up, informing me that she'd be back in a second. Then she disappeared into a small half-bathroom near the kitchen. I stood up and looked around the living room. A decent-sized television perched atop a small swiveling stand. In the small glass cabinet within the stand, I could make out the titles of about eleven or twelve DVD's, various genres of movies. On the walls were some cheap prints of painters I'd never heard of. One print had a landscape of a planet that couldn't exist in reality, with three moons, some strange plant life, and a looming storm in the distance. The other prints were similar in topic. Either Rosa or her roommate was interested in science fiction.

As I continued to look around, noticing small things, like a discarded pair of pants that had been left on the floor. 'Well,' I thought to myself, 'At least they're women's pants.' Inside the pair of pants peeked a bit of red, and I toed the waist of the pants, revealing a pair of panties that had apparently been stripped off with the pants. I wondered who these garments belonged to. The pervert in me suggested I pick up the panties and have a sniff, like a recently post-pubescent teenager. I flushed a little at the thought, and left them alone. I went back to looking at the DVD's in the stand when Rosa returned.

"Some interesting movies in here," I didn't bother with trying to sit down before she emerged, instead reading some of the titles aloud.

"About half of those are my roommate's," she explained.

I was almost through with my drink, and had no other excuse for hanging out, so I asked her if she wanted to watch a movie, "We can rent a few, if you'd like. My treat?"

She nodded as if she'd also been looking for an excuse to have me there, "That'd be nice, as long as I can pay for a pizza."

Fifteen minutes later, inside the Video Store, standing side-by-side, Rosa and I scanned the movies, reading them aloud one at a time if they sounded interesting. She picked up a slice-and-dice thriller, read the summary on the back, and suggested that one, so I held it. The next one was a science fiction movie, and the third a comedy.

"That should be plenty," she decided.

I paid for the movies as I had said I would, and we stopped by a pizza place to get a pie. It took another twenty minutes, so we talked about more inconsequential things until it was ready. Once we arrived back at her place, I carried the pizza and movies in, following her and enjoying the view of her hips swaying hypnotically as she walked. I had to force my eyes away from her when she turned, "Just set the pizza on the coffee table while I get some plates and more soda."

This time, as she bent to get two more cans from the fridge, the counter wasn't blocking my examination of her round ass. I had to turn away to hide the erection that had started to form, using the pretense of putting the pizza down where she'd said. She gathered two plates and carried them and the soda to the sofa.

"Which movie first?" she opened the pizza box.

I shrugged, "I guess we can watch the sci-fi first."

I turned the TV on a put the disc into the small player underneath.

As it began, she handed me a plate, and we helped ourselves to the pizza.

She sat down next to me and took a bite of the slice on her plate. At this point, we were only about half a foot apart, but that felt way too far. I could simultaneously feel how close she was and the seemingly endless gulf between us. As far as I knew, this was just two people hanging out, nothing more. I couldn't even be sure that the little things I had thought I noticed earlier were signs of anything more. I never was good at picking up signals like that. We ate and watched the movie, which was probably entertaining. I couldn't concentrate on it. I found myself sneaking looks at her cute, slightly round face, those beautiful Spanish eyes, and her entrancing body.

It was a good thing I was sitting down, since I could better hide my returning erection from her. She slipped off her sandals and tucked her feet under her, but seemed uncomfortable like that. She shifted repeatedly, unable to find a comfortable way to sit.

Finally, I set my plate down, done with the pizza, and gently picked her feet up, setting them in my lap.

"Oh, you don't have to have my dirty feet on you-" she seemed embarrassed, blushing.

"It's quite all right."

"But you were eating..."

"I'm done. I'm serious, it's okay. Comfy?"

She nodded, still slightly embarrassed, and left her feet on my lap. They were dainty little things with cute toes. She'd painted her toenails a brick red. I resisted the urge to touch her feet, but not very easily. I again tried to concentrate on the movie, and managed to succeed for a few minutes. My hands rested on her shins, just above her ankles, the heat of her skin quite noticeable to me. I wanted to stroke her smooth, firm legs, but refrained from doing so, not wanting to ruin it.

I poured all my concentration on the movie, but only about ten minutes later, I could suddenly feel her eyes on me. I looked over, and sure enough, she was looking at me. Then my eyes drifted down to my lap, and saw why she was staring. Somehow without me realizing, my hand had begun moving in short strokes up her shin. I forced my renegade hand to stop, flushing brightly.

"Sorry," I mumbled, unable to think of a single valid excuse for why I could be rubbing her shin.

She smiled shyly, another signal there, but I couldn't trust my judgment as to what it meant.

"I don't mind," she admitted quietly, surprising me.

As if being given permission, my hand began moving, again seemingly of its own accord, and I could feel the goose bumps under my hand. I was immensely enjoying that little bit of contact, but then, unfortunately, the movie was over. I had no idea what happened, since my attention had been on her through the whole thing. She swung her feet down, but didn't get up. She looked at the coffee table, or rather, through it, mulling over something in her mind.

"Do....um, I mean..." she threw her hands up in frustration, "Why can't I ever just say what I need to say?"

I looked at her, curious, "When are we ever able to say what needs to be said?"

Then she kissed me.

It was light, unsure, but all the more electrifying. When she moved away a little, she seemed as surprised as I was. I asked, "Is that what you needed to say?"

"I think so."

"But is that all you needed to say?"

"I don't think it was."

With that, she again pressed her lips to mine, this time more forceful, and her soft lips opened slightly, silently inviting mine to do the same. Her tongue darted out teasingly, flicking snake-quick against my lower lip, and my tongue responded. My hands found their way to her silky hair, smoothing and caressing. Her hands rested on my shoulders.

Reluctantly, she broke the kiss, and her eyes searched mine for something. I could get lost in her wide brown eyes. Despite being 20, those eyes seemed to still be so innocent and naïve.

"I don't know if this is what I want," she sighed.

"I don't want you to do anything you don't want to."

"That's not it, though," she almost seemed to be talking to herself, arguing.

I waited.

"I really like you," she admitted, "And you've treated me so nicely."

"You don't owe me anything for being nice to you, Rosa. I like you, too."

"But what if I... and you start treating me like Alan did. I felt so used..."

"It was so wrong, what he did to you."

"I can't go through that again."

She was so vulnerable that I almost backed off. I continued to stroke her hair with one hand and pulled her gently to me, "And you won't. Whatever happens, you won't."

She kissed me so intensely, so fiercely that it made my head spin.

I've been kissed before. But this was the most arousing kiss I'd ever had. Her hands slid around to my back, and pulled me almost desperately, almost as if she were drowning.

I lifted her and held her in my lap as we continued to kiss. My hands caressed up and down her back for a few minutes, and then she abruptly stood up. She pulled me up as well before leading me to her bedroom.

The only light in her bedroom came from what light snuck in around the dark curtains. My eyes gradually adjusted to the dark, and I could make out the bed, a simple frame, nothing fancy. She pulled me against her, and again we met in another mind-blowing kiss that left us both breathless. She broke briefly to lift my shirt over my head and off. Her lips returned to mine, and then traced soft brushes on my cheek, next to my ear, and then down to my neck. I could feel her body pressing insistently against mine. I pulled her tank-top off, baring her beautiful, slightly upturned breasts. My hands cupped them and slowly kneaded in circles, feeling her nipples harden, drawing soft moans that I could feel on my neck as she kissed there. When she stopped kissing, I moved my face down to her cleavage and planted soft kisses there, moving outward to pull her nipple into my mouth before moving my tongue to stimulate them further.

Her hands held my head against her, and she moved her hips closer, almost grinding against mine with need. I slid my arms around her waist to feel her ass, gripping it as I picked her up, and her firm, toned legs wrapped around me. I carried her to her bed, my mouth still sucking and teasing her nipples. When I joined her on the bed, she was struggling with her shorts, so I tenderly pushed her slender fingers aside and unbuttoned her shorts for her. She lifted her hips up in the air to assist me in pulling them off, but I was just enjoying the feel of her legs. She was only 5'2, so her legs were a little short, but they were still so gorgeously smooth and silky that I ran my hands up one leg, to where the bottom of the shorts began, and then back down, to her cute feet before slowly working my way up her other.

I was almost overwhelmed at how quickly she had totally succumbed to me, completely putting her heart, still raw from such deceit and betrayal from another, into my hands. I had to be careful to take it as slow as she could handle.

She confessed, her voice shaking slightly with desire and a mild fear, "Your hands feel so good on my skin. I love how you touch me."

Delighted to hear that I was having such an effect on her, I moved my head down and traced a path with my lips, the same path that I had just finished with my hands.

As I reached her feet, she giggled nervously as my lips tickled her arch. From there, I kissed her other foot, and continued my way up to her thigh.

"I don't know how much I can take, it just feels so good!" she gasped as my lips grazed her inner thigh.

I finally moved and helped her peel her shorts off, revealing a pair of pink panties with a rose pattern, and I thought, 'How appropriate considering what lies beneath!'

I kissed higher up on her thigh, just below the thin material of her panties, and then worked my way inward. Her legs opened a few inches, and I could just barely make out the outline of her moist opening. Careful not to touch her there just yet, I concentrated on the soft and sensitive part of her inner thighs, kissing lightly, and then moving my questing tongue along that area. She gasped as her nerve endings registered the teasing so close to her center.

Her thighs there tasted slightly salty from the sweat that had dried there recently, probably from when she had been most nervous and apprehensive. It only took another minute before her hips gyrated, indicating her fierce need for me to pleasure her where it would cause the most sensation. I caringly kissed her through the fabric, directly on the center, and she jumped from the brief stimulation.

"You're torturing me!" she exclaimed, hooking her thumbs under the waist of her panties and thrusting them down. I had to stare for a few seconds! Her pubic hair was shaved, except for a small triangle no wider than two of my fingers, and even that small triangle of hair was trimmed down almost to the skin. Honestly, when I ran my fingers over it, it had a texture that was remarkably similar to a piece of felt. I snapped out of it enough to help her shed her panties, which had become more than moist from her heat and need.