Discovering Christina

I would encourage the reader to take each chapter of Discovering Christina in order. However, for those who don't, here's a brief recap:

Ross Daniels is a bachelor in his late 40's who had given up on love; that is, until he met the beautiful Christina, more than 25 years his junior. He was immediately captivated by her blonde hair, blue eyes and voluptuous figure. And he fell in love with her intelligence, sense of humor and joy for living . . . and of course, the great sex! They began a passionate affair and, after some rough patches, she moved into his loft apartment in the small town of Durham.

Things were going well until Christina went on a "girls' weekend" in Dallas with three friends from college. Ross could tell on her return that something happened there. He's about to find out what it was.

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"I'm ready to talk about Dallas now. There's a lot I need to tell you."

Christina's words hit me like a punch in the stomach. I had been obsessing over what might have gone on while she enjoyed the "girls' weekend" with her three college friends in Dallas. But, now that she seemed ready to talk about it, I began to question whether I really wanted to know.

There are some questions that shouldn't be asked. Or answered. Obviously, something had gone on in Dallas, and apparently I was about to find out what . . . whether I wanted to or not.

By this time, Christina and I had straightened our clothes and sat there on the boardwalk, huddled together against the cool, grey morning, the light blue blanket pulled tight around us. "All right," I said, "whatever you have to tell me . . . let's hear it."

"Not here," she responded softly, and with those words, she stood up. I followed suit, then took the hand she offered, as we walked slowly back toward the car. Occasionally, I'd glance at Christina, trying to decipher the far-away look on her face. But it was not a look I'd seen before.

"Do you want to drive?" I asked as we reached the car.

"I think I'd like you to drive," she replied. "You'll have to keep your eyes on the road, and it will be easier for me to tell you about the weekend if you're not looking at me."

By this time, I was certain I was going to hear something I wouldn't like. But whatever it turned out to be, I needed to hear it. And it seemed that Christina needed to tell me.

I opened the passenger door for her, then climbed behind the wheel of the Lexus. The engine purred softly as I pulled out of the little picnic area and headed back to the main highway. It would take about an hour or so to get back to Durham, and I was certain it would be an hour I'd never forget.

I kept my eyes on the twisting road that led from the park to the highway and Christina sat quietly, her back pressed against the door, suggesting through her body language that she didn't want to be very close to me at that point. So, I kept quiet, thinking I'd let her talk when she was ready.

But after about five minutes, as I pulled onto the main highway from the lake road, I just couldn't wait any longer. If it was going to be something painful, I wanted to get it over with. "All right," I said, glancing over at her, "are you ready to tell me now?"

"I don't know. I . . .," her voice trailed off.

And without waiting to answer, she began, her voice almost inaudible over the soft hum of tires on pavement. "Ross, I want you to remember that I love you. Okay?"

"Okay," I responded softly, trying not to betray the swarm of butterflies that were flying around in my stomach.

"Well . . . ," she hesitated, and I let the silence hang in the air as long as I could.

"Just tell me one thing," I interrupted, my patience finally exhausted. "Did you fuck some guy down there in Dallas?"

I immediately felt bad for lashing out like that. I glanced over at Christina, who by this time had shoved herself farther against the door. Her arms were folded across her chest, and her cheeks were crimson. I thought I saw a tear trickling out of the corner of her beautiful blue eyes. She didn't answer, of course. She didn't even look at me.

We drove in silence for another ten minutes, before I finally got up the nerve to speak again. "Listen, Sweetie," I said softly, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that, and I shouldn't have said it like I did. But you have to know I'm dying inside imagining all sorts of things. And they're all bad." I reached over to take her hand, but she pulled it away.

"That was a really mean thing to say, you know," she responded, her voice cracking a little.

"I know, baby, I'm sorry."

"You know I don't have to tell you anything," she shot back firmly.

"I know you don't."

"But just for your information," she said softly, "the answer is no. I didn't even dance with any guys." This time she reached over for my hand.

Her words caused this feeling of relief to wash over me. Until that moment, I hadn't even realized how much I loved Christina. The thought of something—or someone--coming between us was simply overwhelming.

"Are you ready to tell me what actually happened, then?" I asked, trying to act calmer than I really felt.

"Well," she started again. "I had sex in Dallas . . ."

"God dammit, Christina! I thought you said . . ." My words trailed off and I sat there trying to drive, feeling totally bewildered.

"I had sex," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper, "with Alicia."

"You had sex with Alicia?" I managed after a long pause.

"Yes."

"You had sex with Alicia?" I repeated, thinking that saying it again might help it sink in a bit more.

"Yes. Ross, I . . ."

"God, Christina," I said slowly, "every time I think I'm ready for anything you throw at me, you still seem to be able to blind-side me. Obviously, I'm surprised."

"Surprised in a good way?"

"I don't know yet," I said slowly. "I'm gonna need a little more detail and some time to process it all."

"You remember that Alicia and I were roommates in college, right?" Her voice was a bit more animated by this time.

"Yes, I remember," I responded, calling to mind a party pic she had shown me not long after moving in. It was Christina and a pretty girl with long dark hair posing with their arms around each other at some fraternity bash. I remember thinking then how sexy the two of them looked that night—Christina in a black strapless dress that showed an abundance of cleavage, and Alicia in a blue number, with a neckline that plunged into a deep vee. It was held together loosely by a delicate bit of fabric; otherwise her pert breasts would have popped right out.

The two of them were about the same height—in the 5-2 range. Otherwise, they were a study in contrasts—Christina with her blonde hair, blue eyes and voluptuous figure, and Alicia with her dark brown hair and eyes, and slender, athletic build. With the booze and the frat boys in apparent abundance at that party, I didn't even want to think about what the two of them probably got themselves into that night . . . or more precisely . . . what probably got into them.

"Alicia and I had been friends for a long time, even before college," she continued. "We met in grade school and went clear through high school together. Boy, did we get into some crazy things . . .," her voice trailed off. "She and I were best friends—you know, sleepovers, double dates and all that stuff."

"Right, I know." I realized that my hands were beginning to grip the wheel much tighter than usual, signaling the tension that was building as I waited for Christina's story to unfold.

"She and I kidded around a lot. Sort of, you know, acting like there might be more between us than just friendship."

"I don't understand," I said, puzzled.

"Oh, we'd dance with each other when we went out to clubs . . . real sexy, you know? We'd touch each other, and kiss . . . "

"Okay, I get the picture," I interrupted.

"Well, it was fun to tease the guys like that," she continued, "and if we happened to be double-dating, it was a sure fire way to get the guys in the mood." Then she stopped. "Oops," she continued. "I guess that might have been too much information."

"Yeah, I guess so," I said tersely. I just hated imagining Christina with some other guy, though I knew intellectually that she'd had her share of flings.

"Well, when Alicia and I both decided to go to college, we weren't sure whether we wanted to room together," she went on. "But finally, we decided to."

"All right," I responded absently, feeling my jaw clench from the tension. I glanced down at the speedometer and realized we were going 85, so I eased up just a bit. I didn't want to kill us both before hearing the whole story. "God," I thought to myself, "How long is it going to take her to get to the point?"

"Okay," she went on. "So we're rooming together that first year . . . "

"I have the picture," I said impatiently.

Ignoring me, she continued. "One night, we'd been out to a club, drinking too much, putting on our sexy girl/girl show. But there just weren't any guys there that night who interested us, so we made our way back to the dorm. It's a good thing it was a short walk, because we were pretty wasted."

"And . . .?"

"And, when we got back to the dorm, we threw off our clothes and got into bed."

"Separate beds?" I asked, beginning to get into the spirit of things.

"Yeah, separate beds," she continued. "You know, those little twin beds like they have in dorms. And we just lay there for awhile. Every now and then, one of us would laugh a little, thinking about how drunk we were and how we must have looked at the bar that night.

"Finally, Alicia said she wished we'd found some guys because she really needed some sex. I told her I wish we had, too, because I was feeling the need myself. It got pretty quiet for awhile as we lay there in the dark. But I could tell Alicia wasn't asleep by the rhythm of her breathing and the way she seemed to be moving around on the bed."

"This is beginning to sound like a fantasy I had once," I smiled. "Actually, I had it more than once."

"Don't be a dirty old man," she scolded. "Anyway, one thing led to another, and we ended up . . . uh . . . getting ourselves off that night."

"Together?"

"Well, together in the sense that we did it at the same time. But in our separate beds."

"Oh," I said, a little disappointed.

"But it was so sexy, listening to Alicia do it to herself that way. The sounds . . . even . . . the smells," she whispered, blushing. "And when she came," Christina said breathily, "Well, it just pushed me over the edge, too."

Suddenly, I realized that I'd been so engrossed in Christina's story, that I was hardly aware that I was driving down a two-lane highway at more than 70 miles an hour. My mind snapped back to attention, and I realized we had already covered nearly 50 miles when I saw the sign marking the road to Willow Springs Marina. We were just about ten minutes from Durham.

By this time, Christina had moved from her position next to the door to lean against the center console. She reached across the console and began to rub her hand lightly up and down the inside of my right thigh. "Did you like hearing about Alicia and me being naughty together?" she teased in her best little-girl voice.

"Yeah," I hesitated. "I guess I did . . . a little."

"I think it was more than a little," she smiled, "judging by this." And with that, she began to run her palm up and down my cock, which had sprung to full attention as Christina told her story. It was almost painful, confined by my trousers as it was.

"I'll bet you're imaging Alicia and me together right now," she teased.

"Well, it's a little hard to get the image out of my head."

"Don't get it out of your head, then," she whispered back. "Just go with it." And with that, she leaned over and licked the length of my shaft through my trousers, leaving a wet trail of saliva as she moved slowly upward.

"Hold on," I whispered, breathlessly as I did my best to pull the car into the covered parking area just behind my building. "Let's move this inside." Not waiting for Christina to respond, I shoved open the driver's door, walked quickly around to the passenger's side and helped Christina from the Lexus. Clutching her hand tightly, I nearly dragged her up the back stairs until we were standing in the entryway of my loft, kissing and pawing at each other hungrily.

Not even breaking the kiss, I began to edge the two of us inside until we found ourselves in the living room, literally tearing each other's clothes off. I'd never wanted to fuck anyone as badly as I wanted Christina right at that moment. Our sense of urgency caused us to stop trying to remove the other's clothes and concentrate on getting our own off, knowing we'd be naked faster that way.

With our clothes scattered on the living room floor, we hurried into the bedroom without one word being uttered by either of us. We didn't need to talk. We both knew what we wanted. We wanted to fuck and we wanted to do it immediately! Pressing her two hands against my chest, Christina pushed me backward onto the bed and immediately planted one knee on either side of my thighs bringing her pussy right over my throbbing cock. Her eyes were closed, her lips were parted and her nostrils flared a little from her panting breaths.

In one quick motion, she reached behind her, seized my cock and guided it into her hot, wet tunnel. Christina is extremely tight, which is a very good thing, but sometimes it takes a little while for her to fully accommodate me. Not this time. I entered her fully with one long stroke as she lowered herself urgently onto me. The moans of pleasure that escaped both of us as we were joined made clear just how badly we both wanted this.

But instead of fucking me like a mad woman, which I fully expected (and hoped for), as soon as I was fully inside, she held her body perfectly still. "What the hell . . .?" I grumbled as I looked into those wonderful blue eyes that were now gazing back into mine.

She reached down and put her finger to my lips and whispered, "Shhhhhhhh. I'm going to tell you the rest of the story now." If I hadn't figured it out already, I knew at that point that this was going to be one memorable fuck.

"All right," I grumbled, "let me get a little more comfortable." Careful to make sure Christina stayed impaled on my rigid cock, I scooted up until my back was resting against the headboard of the bed and my legs were fully extended. The little jostling it took to get me in that position caused these electric sensations to shoot through me as I lifted her up a little and then allowed her to slide back down. Her gasp as I settled myself and filled her completely once again, let me know that she enjoyed it, too.

"Okay, I'm ready," I told her, and to emphasize the point, I made my cock swell inside her and laughed when her eyes grew wide with surprise. "See, I told you I'm ready," I teased. "Tell me the story."

"All right," she began, "after that first night when we got ourselves off together, we didn't talk about it at all. I didn't know how to bring it up, and I didn't even know if I wanted to. It was fun at the time, but I didn't know if I wanted it to happen again. And I sure didn't know if I wanted it to go any farther."

As she spoke she moved her hips in little circles that made me shiver with pleasure. I was so aroused that even the slightest movement caused these electric sensations to race through every nerve in my body. Seeing the expression on my face change with her movements, she smiled a little and continued.

"But it turned out that we did do it again . . . and again . . . and again." And each time she said "again," she raised and lowered herself tantalizingly, each time enveloping me in her velvety folds. "By second semester, we were getting ourselves off together almost every time we came back from a night out together. Of course, there were times when we didn't come home together . . . "

"I get the picture," I said curtly and reached up and pinched her left nipple, causing her to shudder and letting her know that I didn't want to know any more about what she did on those nights she and Alicia didn't come home together.

"Don't be such an old sour puss," she teased, as she leaned forward and thrust her tongue in my mouth in a deep, wet kiss. Instead of sitting back up, she rested her full breasts on my chest, put her lips very close to my ear, and returned to her story.

"We even came up with a little signal, just between Alicia and me."

"Signal?" I asked.

"Yeah, like a code word we'd say when we were ready to go do it," she explained. "We'd be out together, and if one of us got ready to go back to the room and get ourselves off, we'd say we needed to do a load of laundry. The other one would know exactly what that meant. You wouldn't believe how much laundry we did our freshman year," she giggled.

"So one night, after we'd been doing that for about a month, we came home, and I guess we were especially drunk or especially horny or something, and as soon as the lights were off, Alicia came over and crawled into bed with me. I had already taken all my clothes off, thinking that we were going to do what we usually did, and I nearly jumped off the bed when she scooted in beside me."

By this time, the image of these two beautiful girls in bed together and the feel of Christina's warm breath against my ear, not to mention the feel of her hot tunnel gripping me tightly, were bringing me dangerously close to the limit of my staying power. I steeled myself as best I could to try and not finish before she had completed her story.

I could tell by the wistful sound of Christina's voice that her mind had drifted back to that night and she was feeling all those sensations once again. So, to help her a little bit, I reached between us and ran my thumb lightly over her clit, causing her to moan with pleasure, while bringing her back to the present. I couldn't wait to hear the rest of the story.

I had no more than touched her when she sat up quickly, slapped my hand and scolded me. "I'm telling the story, mister. Don't try and hurry things along." And with that, she circled her hips again, then raised herself far enough that I could see how her juices had made my cock slick and shiny. But as I was reaching to grasp her hips and lift her further, she sat back down hard, drawing me deep inside once more.

"I just about jumped out of the bed when I felt Alicia next to me," she continued, "and I could tell that she didn't have any clothes on, either. I could feel her nipples pressed against my breasts, and they felt hard as rocks. I asked her what the hell she was doing."

Now I was really beginning to get into the story, imagining those hard young bodies, both drunk and aroused, pressed together in that small bed. Just the thought of it made my cock throb. And from the look on Christina's face, she could feel it, too.

"She told me she thought it would be nice if we did something a little different this time," Christina continued. "She asked if I might like for her to help me . . . you know, get off."

"Yes, I know very well," I said softly as I reached up once again and took one of her full breasts in each hand. This time Christina did not try to discourage me, and as I slowly massaged her breasts, she went on with her story.

"Well, I was so drunk and horny, the shock of it went away pretty fast and I began to think about how good it might feel. After all, it's not like I hadn't wondered what Alicia looked like, felt like as she was getting herself off over in the other bed. So I told her okay."

Again the faraway look in Christina's eyes. Her body seemed to be on automatic pilot now, and she began to slowly raise and lower herself, fucking me with these excruciatingly slow strokes.