Early afternoon. Not too crowded in the lobby. As they walk together, Pauly is wondering if this is real or something she has conjured up in her head. Clara is certainly real, prettier than the photo she sent, more exciting in three dimensions. Curvaceous. Smiling. The eyes bright and seeming happy. But the uncertainty must be there, a mirror of Pauly's own uncertainty. Two lives on a sudden new course, even if only for a weekend.
Or longer. Only for a weekend? Pauly hungers for it to be more than that, but Clara seems disinterested. A lark, Clara said. They'd have a lark and that's all. She wants no dangers in her life.
Pauly wants more. She's tired of evenings and nights and mornings alone. Nothing but the walls and a half-dead cat to watch her pleasure herself. She's tired of lying alone in the dark and listening to the traffic outside. She's tired of unrealized fantasies.
As they stand at the elevator, each holding a small suitcase, Pauly looks down at Clara's legs. Heels and stockings. Clara hinted she would in a letter last week. She's a sexual woman. Their eyes meet. Clara smiles. Pauly smiles back. They haven't talked much. They'll have all the time they need to talk. These moments, for Pauly at least, are becoming more and more intense. The sexual tension is palpable. But she's determined to be restrained. She wants each moment to be electric. She's determined to somehow change the beat of time, extend each moment until the anticipation of the next moment becomes unbearable.
Finally, the elevator arrives. Clara enters before Pauly and Pauly looks at Clara's round hips, her full calves, her ankles, the high heels. The door slides shut and they are alone for the first time. They look at each other and smile. Then a kiss. Pauly kisses Clara's forehead first, then her lips. A tender kiss. Then Pauly pulls back. "Let me touch you," she says.
Clara frowns, seems uncertain.
"No, just this," Pauly says. She gently rubs the back of her hand across the curve of Clara's left breast. Just that. Hardly pressing the full breast through Clara's jacket and blouse. Clara blushes.
Pauly wants to kiss her again, but the elevator door suddenly opens and it's their floor. They exit the elevator and hold hands as they walk down the long corridor to their room. In a few moments they are inside, the door closed, their bags on the floor, their arms around each other for the first real contact, mouth against mouth, the kiss consuming them, lasting, a brief respite, then another kiss. It's marvelous. Clara's mouth has a sweet taste. The scent of her hair, her perfume, excites Pauly. She wants to caress Clara, stroke her breasts, but she does nothing. Not yet. They separate and start chattering about the room, the weather, their plans for the weekend. And during it all the sexual tension between them is like a stretched rubber band about to snap.
* * *
A few minutes later, while alone in the bathroom, Pauly thinks of leading Clara out of the room, taking her to a coffee shop somewhere, anything to allow enough time to calm down, calm them both down. Or maybe the point would be to extend this maddening tension, a tension with its own delicious effect. Will the sexual actuality be as intense as this anticipation of it? But when Pauly returns to the room and finds Clara standing at the window, any thought of leaving at this moment seems impossible, even absurd. They are here. They are here in this room alone, together alone for the very first time after all the weeks of longing, and it seems absurd to abandon the moment without something, some action, some contact, something. What should it be?
Clara has large breasts. She told Pauly she has large breasts and the proof is certainly evident. As they kiss, Pauly slowly unbutton Clara's jacket. Clara stiffens a moment, but then she relaxes again. Pauly pulls her mouth away and their eyes lock as Pauly slowly slides both hands over Clara's breasts and covers as much of them as a she can with her palms, gently caressing them through Clara's blouse and bra. Clara's face is flushed. This is their first real physical intimacy. Still holding Clara's breasts, Pauly says, "We have a choice."
"Yes?"
"We can choose to continue teasing each other, even leave this room awhile, or stop the teasing and mess up the bed before dinner. Which would you like?"
"I don't know. How about you?"
"I think we ought to compromise."
Clara smiles. "Compromise? How do we do that?"
"Just a few moments of compromise. If you sit in that easy chair and pull up your skirt, I'd like to run my tongue over you."
Clara blushes. "You want to make me crazy. You're mad."
"Yes, mad for you."
Clara blushes again and smiles. "All right, have your way with me." She walks to the easy chair and she sits down.
Pauly follows and drops to her knees before Clara. Pauly helps Clara with her skirt, helps her get it up past her thighs, past the tops of her stockings. Pauly is astounded to find Clara is without panties, and when she looks up at Clara's face, Clara smiles down at her. "Why not?" Clara says. "I have as much right as you do to be a little crazy."
* * *
Clara shows herself to Pauly. Seated there in the chair, still dressed, her legs open, her hands at her mons, her cunt exposed to Pauly's eyes, Clara looks down at Pauly and says nothing.
Pauly gazes at the cunt. Lush. Wet. She wants it.
Unable to remain passive any longer, Pauly touches Clara's ankles, then slowly runs her hands up Clara's stocking-clad legs and down the insides of her thighs, beyond the tops of her stockings to her groin. Their hands meet, their eyes meet, and then Clara pulls her hands away from her belly and leaves the field to Pauly.
With a gentle tug at Clara's waist, Pauly urges Clara to slide forward on the seat of the chair and then pull her knees even further back. Now Clara is completely exposed, everything visible, her thighs flexed, her legs dangling over the arms of the chair, a faint blush in her face.
Pauly leans forward to sniff her first, to get Clara's scent, to get the musk of Clara's sex in her nose. Pauly is thankful Clara hasn't yet washed away the hours on the train, the arrival at the hotel, the natural scents and faint perfume that now make Clara so alluring to her. Pauly sniffs at the top of Clara's sex and then lower down, her nose barely touching her. Clara's cunt is wet, the lips gaping. Her clitoris remains covered by its hood, but the flesh around it looks engorged.
Finally, Pauly starts licking her, the insides of Clara's thighs first, wet licking near Clara's sex, then lightly over the outer lips, then down again, lower down to the perineum, the sparse hairs around Clara's anus, then back again to the slit of Clara's sex and up to the hood of Clara's clitoris. Fluttering touches of Pauly's tongue. Then Pauly moves her face in, presses her open mouth against Clara's cunt, a light grazing at first, then more pressure, grinding a bit, then sucking all of Clara's cunt into her mouth, the flaps of Clara's labia sucked in between Pauly's teeth, Pauly's tongue extends to scour the opening of Clara's vagina.
Pauly's nose is pressed against Clara's clitoris, and as Pauly moves her face in all directions, her nose rubs Clara's clitoris, massages the bud in its hood. Then down to the vaginal opening again, Pauly's mouth on it, her tongue scooping the fluids, mixing Clara's juices with her saliva, sucking and swallowing, sucking and swallowing. Now Pauly's nose slides inside the mouth of Clara's sex to get the full scent of Clara's cunt, Pauly's face rotating so that her nose widens the opening, pushes in, pulls out, pushes in again. And while Pauly's nose does this, her tongue extends its full length to reach down to flutter against Clara's anus, slide over it, tickle it, the tip of Pauly's tongue sensing the ring of the sphincter, caressing it, tapping against it.
When Clara groans and pulls at Pauly's hair, Pauly withdraws her nose from the vaginal opening and rubs the wet tip of her nose against Clara's clitoris, against the hood, pushing the hood back with her nose to expose the little nub. Finally she sucks the protuberance of swollen flesh into her mouth, fastens her lips on it and tugs at it as she presses her mouth and chin more forcefully into Clara's crotch and vigorously shakes her face to bring Clara to orgasm.
As Clara cries out, her thighs trembling, Pauly keeps her mouth locked on Clara's sex, her lips sucking hard at Clara's clitoris, two fingers now sliding into Clara's pulsing vagina to feel her contractions. Finally, as Clara's spasms lessen, Pauly moves her tongue to Clara's urethra, probes it to get some of the brine that has come to the opening during Clara's climax. Pauly sucks at it, adds it to the mix already in her mouth, and then she kisses Clara's sex one last time before pulling her wet face away from Clara's thighs.
* * *
