Pretty Lin

I suddenly realized, 'I might never go visit Lin again.'

We're moving in together. I won't have to go anywhere.

She had rented a nice two-bedroom, an easy walk to commuter rail, and an easy commute to her new job. Just outside the city, she found a good bit more apartment for a good bit less money, and in a quiet residential neighborhood.

I got there just before noon, following her map from the train, The building looked even nicer than her pictures had shown it. Smallish, just eight units, with a lot of single family homes on the street. I walked up the one floor to our unit, faced away from the street, and knocked on the door. Now our door.

I barely had time to set my bag down before she wrapped herself around me. First, she pressed the side of her head against my shoulder, just to get the most contact between us. After a moment, she tipped her face up toward mine, and it must have been instinct: I leaned down to kiss that sweet, soft mouth before I had any conscious thought of doing it.

Her grip loosened and shifted as we kissed, One hand slid from my waist to my hip. The other moved down a little, from my shoulder to that place under my arm, where she found that first softness of breast. ("Side-boob." Gawd, that sounds so icky.) I started to feel that tingle in a lot of places she wasn't touching.

My rational mind woke up at that moment. I leaned back and said, "We have some work to do, don't we?"

After a moment, Lin released me. "Yeah, I never thought there would be that much stuff to unpack."

She was well settled in, but the movers had left my stuff two days ago -- now, a heap of boxes in the second bedroom. It wasn't that much, really. A few things from my old bedroom at my parents' place, desk and chair, and my books. Oh, yes, the books. "It's not hoarding if it's books." And that was even before my grad program. Sometimes, I felt I was reading the way they feed geese for foie gras.

We stepped in, and I opened my travel bag for the jeans and t-shirt I'd want for the heavy lifting. Lin interfered affectionately as I undressed. She even undid my bra clasp from behind, when I wasn't looking. I looked back at her, gave her a smile, and took it the rest of the way off. If she really wanted to see me bouncing all over the place as we worked, well, that was OK. She was bra-less too, but it looks very different on her.

The bed, nightstands, dresser, and desk set fell into place easily. For the moment, we just unboxed the books and stood them up in rows. I had packed them by subject, so that went quickly except for the few stragglers. You know, the ones that didn't fit in the box with the others, or were the wrong size, or that had been in the wrong places when I was packing.

Lin got out a tape measure, and gaped when she added up how long the rows were. "11 meters? That's how much shelf space you need?" Maybe it was the idea of anyone needing that much.

"I guess. Let's call it 12 or 13, allowing room to expand." We went out to the Home Depot for boards and cinder blocks for shelving -- what grad students do. When we saw the standard sizes, we rounded up to 14 meters. Silently, I knew that meant "14, for now." It's books, after all.

The blocks filled the trunk and the back seat foot space of her car, and the boards stuck out the window a bit. I had to scrunch sideways to fit them and me into the car, but it wasn't too bad. The shelves went together quickly, and filing the books went fast, too, since I already had them organized. Even so, it took a while and was heavy work. The day was hot, and we ended up as sweaty messes.

She asked, "Eat first, or shower?"

We had missed lunch. "Let's eat. How does pizza sound?"

"Great. Mushroom and onion?"

"You know me too well. Sounds good."

She dialed the order in, and I started knocking down the boxes. We worked together comfortably. For me, that means not getting in each other's way. She rounded up the stray packing material while I worked on the boxes, then bundled the ones I was done with and took them out to the recycling bin.

We were about done when the doorbell rang. Lin grabbed her wallet and paid, then put it on the table. She locked the door behind her and stripped off her shirt t-shirt. That surprised me for a moment, but she was right. Sun filled the room, a warm breeze played through the window, and it was just us. And, as always, I melted a little at seeing her undress. I followed suit and, like her, hung my damp shirt over the back of my chair. Warm air on bare skin felt light and clean.

We didn't say much as we ate our way through the pizza. My attention wasn't much on the pizza, though, it was mostly on her. Skin a tawny tone, hair short and glossy, areolas like milk chocolate on butterscotch breasts. Sometimes, I feel like such a cow next to her. I have pale skin so veins show across my breasts, and they sit low and heavy compared to hers. She'd pass the "pencil test" easily -- I could hold the whole damn box of crayons. (Sorry about the language.) I guess it worked both ways, though. Lin enjoys my curves as much as I admire her sleek figure and slim hips. Her eyes seemed to be on me as much as mine were on her.

It wasn't the biggest pizza we could have ordered, but not the smallest, either. I was surprised that we finished it off, and surprised that she ate as much as I did. For such a small woman, barely 50kg, she could sure put it away. Well no lunch and heavy lifting will do that. We sat for a moment, enjoying the aftertaste of the meal. Lin stood up then, folded the pizza box, and stuffed it in the trash. I did the same with the paper napkins, and put our water glasses in the sink.

I asked, "How about that shower now?"

"Sure. Wash my back?"

"Of course!"

I had seen a clothes hamper in our bedroom, so I grabbed our sweaty t-shirts and carried them over. I also stripped out of my jeans and underwear. The latter had been through the long trip here and through the afternoon's hard work, and I couldn't wait for fresh ones. I hung up my jeans and headed to the bathroom. Lin had fresh towels on the rack, her clothes in a pile on the floor, and water running to get warm.

I felt the air get steamy, and Lin stepped into the shower. She held the shower curtain back in invitation, and I followed. Once the water was hot, we turned on the shower. That first burst ran cold, but warmed up fast. I turned to face Lin, and she wrapped me in her strong hug again, this time skin to skin, breast to breast, and thigh between thighs. Hot warmed streamed down and between us, and I just leaned into the warmth.

Lin released me and grabbed the soap. She handed it to me, then turned to the wall and leaned against it on her elbows. It was "wash my back" time. I soaped up my hands and started on her shoulders. Her skin is soft and smooth, but doesn't hide the strength underneath. I rubbed hard on her shoulders and upper back, and she purred contentment. I rubbed down her sides, too. I couldn't really see it, but I felt the softness at the sides of her breasts, and kept working down.

Lin has slim but deep hips, and thighs that flow into them perfectly -- the kind of shape that does the most for a long slit skirt. I soaped my hands again and pushed deeply into her rear muscles. Her purring got louder as I stroked, and peaked each time I pressed into that big dimple on each side.

More soap, and I knelt behind her. She moved her feet farther apart, creating a gap the full length of her legs. In the gap, I could see her little cheeks just below the big ones, and resisted the temptation to rub them, Not yet, at least. I started on her calves and worked up her thighs, soaping the outside, rear, and inside of each leg.

When I got to the top, rubbing between them did touch her labia. She cooed, and tipped her hip up, as if asking for more. I played a bit, pretending to wash.

"Lin, could you turn around?" She did, and leaned back against the tile wall. Already on my knees, I started on her calves again and worked by way up. When I got to he fold between thigh and vulva, she bent her knees out, to open up for me. The slit between her labia gaped a little, and my slick fingers ran down through that fold. I was careful; soap way up in wouldn't do her any good.

I stood then, and worked up her belly to her chest. She raised her arms overhead, pulling her breasts up and almost flat against her chest. Still, despite the warm water, her areolas thickened and nipples as fat as my thumb-tip stood out. I massaged them far longer than cleanliness required, as her closed eyes and gentle smile encouraged.

I finally took the sprayer in hand and played with that, too. I rinsed the soap off her breasts, tummy and legs. Kneeling again, I said "Lin, open up." Again, she bent her knees out, and I sprayed warm water up between them. Lin reached down and opened her labia, and I rinsed the pink petals in warmth. Unasked, she turned around so I could do her back. She reached around and separated her rear cheeks, and I rinsed there, too. I was embarrassed to look as closely as I did, but the little dark star between her cheeks captured my gaze.

Finally, "I think I'm done."

"My turn." She took the sprayer from me and soaped her hands. She pushed my shoulders until I leaned against the wall, then started. "Close your eyes."

To tell the truth, I was a little turned on already, from my closeness with her body, and thought I'd be ready for anything. Her first touch surprised me, though. Slick fingers rubbed my neck, the muscles just under each ear, gently, then with a stronger touch. It felt far more intimate than anything I expected. I felt myself nibble my lower lip at the touch. (She's reading over my shoulder. "You always do that when you're excited." I didn't know I was that obvious.) From neck, to my shoulders, to my arms -- oops, I'd missed her arms, too wrapped up in the rest of her.

Back to the shoulders, then upper chest, then breasts. She slid her hand under one, and lifted it. My nipple, smaller than hers and pink, seemed to stare back at her. She kissed it, wrapping her lips around it, and a tingle seemed to radiate through me. Next, she soaped the upper part. Still holding it up, her hand slid along the top and sides, gently, over and over. It was almost hypnotic, and it felt right when her hand reached my areola and massaged that as thoroughly. Gently, with slippery thumb and finger, she tugged the nipple two or three times. Still lifting the breast, she used two hands to soap underneath. The same again on the other side, slowly and gently, as if she could go on forever.

I didn't realize how worked up I was until she set that second breast down and worked toward my belly. And I didn't realize I'd been holding my breath until I released it. I kept my eyes closed, and lived for her touch. I missed her hands on my breasts, but I knew there was more to come. Massaging my stomach gave me a little relief, then she pressed the flat of her fingers into my mons. Up at the fleshy part, it felt warm and affectionate. Down lower, though, one finger pressed just where my labia divided. It took only a moment for her to find my clitoris, the ridge way back from the tip, and rub that side to side. It felt full and thick; I hadn't realized my body had responded so much to her. Gentle massage for just a moment, and her hands moved again.

One went outside of my thigh, maybe to part of my bottom. The other slid down between my legs, in the crevice between thigh and my outer labia. Again, I hadn't realized how full and pillowy they had become, not until her caress showed me. Her two-handed hold on my leg worked down and she knelt in front of me. The hand between my legs rubbed my thigh, but also pressed against my lower vulva. I even felt gentle pressure against my vagina. As she worked down my leg, I relaxed a bit, but tension returned when she started at the top of the other. Down that leg too, then she stood. One hand around my back held me close, the other rubbed my labia in long, slick strokes. My knees moved apart and started to feel wobbly; I put my hands on her shoulders for support.

"Your back now. Can you lean against the wall?" I pressed my elbows against the tile and rested my head where my arms crossed in front of me. The flush of excitement from her caress eased slowly as Lin worked deep into the muscles of my shoulders and lower, near my spine. Then lower still, where my waist tapered out to hip, and the big muscles of my rear. She stopped for more soap every now and then, giving me a chance to gauge just how much my body was responding to her. Then she'd start again and I was back in the moment.

My mind drifted until I felt her slick hand deep in the crack. She felt me tense. Her hand worked up and down in slow strokes as she asked, "This is OK, isn't it?"

I remembered the last time she touched me back there. "Yes Lin, it's yours." Just saying that seemed to set something free in me, and I let myself enjoy this most intimate touch. Soon, I felt a fingertip touch the opening, and draw small, slick circles. I almost tensed, but relaxed into this, too. Lin found a slow rhythm: press, slick up with more soap, and press again. Press deeper. Just millimeters at a time, her finger eased me open. More soap, and the whole fingertip was in me. More soap, and it was truly in. I felt myself panting by that point, and expected her to pull out, but I was very slick already. Her other hand held the front of my hip, and she pressed all the way in. Not a stabbing motion, but a quick and easy glide in until the width of her hand stopped her from going any deeper. All the way in, and the pressure of her hand. Little motions, in and out, twisting right and left, and her finger flexing inside me.

Lin just held for a moment, and said "Squeeze." I clenched my bottom and felt it snug and slide along her finger. I relaxed and it slid back. "Squeeze." I did it again, and again, I felt myself slide along her finger. Each time I tightened my rear around her, I could feel other muscles all through my pelvis tighten at the same time. If we hadn't already been under the shower, I might have noticed some dampness between my legs.

Lin finally let go of me and withdrew her finger, leaving an odd emptiness. She reached for the sprayer, and rinsed the soap from my rear. I watch her wash her hand carefully, the one that played with my bottom. She turned off the water and reached for a towel. She wrapped my trembling body, and guided me out of the shower. She toweled me down, all over, and wrapped me in a warm terry robe. She dried herself, then guided me to the bedroom and into the bed. My bottom still tingled; even so, I fell asleep in moments.

I woke about an hour later, still wrapped in a thick, fuzzy robe, and found Lin at the dining table, dressed the same. She looked up from her book with a big smile, and reached for my hand as I sat down. That's when I saw the box on the table, wrapped in deep blue with silvery ribbons.

"Happy Birthday, Micca!"

"For me? But my birthday is tomorrow."

"I have plans for that, too." She pushed the box toward me. "Go ahead."

I untied the ribbon and opened the wrapping carefully -- maybe too slowly for Lin, but prolonging my suspense. The small box was heavier than I expected, much heavier. I shifted it back in my hands, admiring the deep purple cover and hot-pink embossed lettering: "Anna Leigh" in script lettering, then block letters, "Adorned." I turned the lid back on its hinge, and found three shining objects in stainless steel. They were all alike, but differed in size. At one end, a flat disk with a wide, faceted jewel, pink, white, or ice blue. At the other, a heavy round knob with tapered end. The smallest was a little bigger around than my thumb; the biggest almost three fingers wide at the widest. A narrow neck connected the knob and disk, getting wider in proportion to the knob. The inner lid had a small logo, a few graceful curves suggesting a woman's hip seen from behind. A small jewel was pasted low on one of the curves.

I suddenly realized what I was looking at. I looked at the lid again, "Anna Leigh Adorned." Or "anally adorned," as the logo inside suggested. The knob end of each one was to go in my bottom. Suddenly, even the smallest looked big. I looked up at Lin, and saw a pensive expression. She asked, "Will you try it? For me?"

Something in "for me?" melted inside me. I was a little nervous, but said "Sure. Just try, right? And stop if it doesn't work?" I forced a smile to happen, and once I did it felt real.

Lin came over to me and, standing, hugged my shoulder. "Of course, Micca. We won't do anything you don't like. Not now, not ever." I was still sitting, so leaned my head against her tummy, and wrapped my arms around her hip. That tingle came back to my bottom, and still glowed in me, and made me bold. "Now?"

Lin beamed. That was the reaction she hoped for. "Yes, now. Let's go to the bathroom." I got up, and she slipped the robe from my shoulders as I stood. She left hers behind, too, as she took the box and headed to the bathroom. I saw a bowl ready on the sink deck, and she filled it with warm water. The smallest of the metal toys went in -- Lin didn't want it to feel cold. Still nervous, that made me feel a little better. It also showed me how much she had thought it through beforehand.

"Could you lean over? Hold yourself up on the sink deck." I bent over as she said, supporting myself on my hands and facing the big mirror behind the sink. (I almost leaned on my elbows, but my breasts dangle that low and the tile was cold.) In the mirror, I saw my hip tipped up, and her behind me.

She pulled a tube from the medicine cabinet next to the sink, unscrewed the lid, and put a big, clear blob on her finger. She laid one hand on my back, and said "This might feel funny, but you've felt it before." Her hand on my back slid down to my bottom. A moment later, I felt her spread my cheeks with one hand, then the touch of cool goo down low. I startled and then relaxed. I saw my nervous smile in the mirror, and said "Cold."

Lin smiled again, and focused her attention on this place that no one else had ever touched. I knew what to expect, so braced for the cool touch. Lin smeared it around, then pushed her finger into me. She pulled it out again, put more goo on her finger, and pressed into me again. With the slick lube, she was all the way in before I knew what happened. She rotated her finger inside me, a squirmy feeling, then pulled it back out. At that point, I felt like a spectator to my own life, not an actor. I had given myself over to this, and Lin looked comfortable in her role.

She pulled her finger back out, leaving a kind of emptiness. A quick wipe with a tissue got the excess gel off her finger, and she pulled the toy from the bowl. I watched in the mirror as it disappeared behind the curve of my hip, then felt it warm and hard at my body's entrance. Lin looked at me in the mirror and began to push.

I felt it start to slide in, slowly, very slowly. As it entered, it got wider and wider. I saw in the mirror that my eyes got big, my mouth made an open "O", and I started to say "Lin, it's..."

Oh. I stopped in mid-sentence. "It's in." That was a lot easier than I expected, and the warmth inside and out was nice. Lin used another tissue to clean my bottom. I cringed a little at the feeling of someone else wiping me like that, but it was Lin.

"OK, you can stand up now." I did, slowly, feeling it heavy and shifting inside me. Lin was still standing behind me. I saw her reach down and felt it wiggle as she touched it.

"Squeeze, Micca." I did, and almost jumped at the feeling. Not bad, but different from anything I'd felt before, even her finger. "Squeeze." I did it again, and the shifting mass started to feel familiar.