Wanting

It's been a wonderful night. The seven of us sitting around your fireplace, six college girls and you, barefoot, informal, eating great Cantonese with just the right amount of wine. Talking careers, with funny little side trips into "girl stuff." What we should and shouldn't wear to those summer intern jobs and where you got the beautiful jade bracelet. How to brush off advances from those senior guys in the firm and still have a future; the best place to buy sexy lingerie, cheap. It was really fun. I've tried to stay close to you, physically near you, without being too obvious, I don't know if you noticed.

It's about ten and you start moving us all to the door, everyone saying "thanks" and "goodnight." I feel you touch my hand and you whisper

"Why don't you stay? Go back to the living room and wait for me."

I fall back from the group and return and sit by the fire. I throw a couple of pieces of wood on it and watch the mesquite blaze up. In a moment you're back. You sit down on the other side of the hearth and curl up your legs, looking at me.

"That was fun..." I start to say. But you smile and me and continue,

"But a little exhausting!"

I look at you, really look at you. You're pretty, not gorgeous, not beautiful, but very pretty. You're smart and ambitious; only 28, in demand as a consultant and on track for a full professorship. And you're oh, so sweet. Maybe the sweetest person I have ever met. I've never heard you say anything nasty, I've never seen you less than patient with a student, I've never met anyone who's met you and doesn't like and admire you. I think I could, maybe do, love you.

"Are you tired? I can leave." I hear myself saying. You laugh.

"Don't be silly, I asked you to stay. No, I'm just ready for a little quiet, a little downtime, a little intimate conversation."

At the word intimate, my heart skips a beat and I feel myself warming a little, between my legs. You hold up the bottle of Chardonnay and tilt your head. I nod and hold my glass out. You fill mine about halfway and then your own. We both take a sip. You put your glass on the hearth.

I feel you looking at me and I look down, then back up. You're smiling.

"You know that I'm very attracted to you, don't you." You right hand reaches out and gently strokes my knee. Your flesh to my flesh. I feel goose bumps all over me; I feel 16 and I also feel very aroused.

"No" I say very simply. You smile.

"Well, I am and I think you're attracted to me, too. Aren't you?"

I feel the blush start at my breasts and move up to the top of my head. What's the matter with me, no one has made me blush since I was 12. Even that summer in Mexico when I thought I was in love. Maybe that's the difference, then I thought I was in love, now...

I stammer, not knowing what to say and you move closer to me. You hand now is gently rubbing the thigh under my skirt. I blurt out

"I think I am, but I just don't know if this is what I want or should have or..." and my thoughts and my voice trail off. I'm at a crossroads. I really don't know.

I think I love you, but I don't know if I want to touch you and have you touch me back. I can feel my nipples growing hard and lengthening. I feel myself swelling and opening...my breath becoming shorter. I can smell myself as my wetness seeps into my panties. My body seems to have made up its mind, but I, me, Sandy, I just don't know.

You sense my ambivalence, my longing, my fear. I see passion in your eyes, but I see compassion, too. You are soooo sweet...

"I understand; sometimes it's so hard to know, but maybe this will help."

You move to the left a little and rest your back against a chair, facing me. Your hand goes to your white cotton blouse and you unbutton it and then take it off. Your breasts are encased in a lacy bra, creamy and perfect against the white material. They push up and try to spill over the fabric. You take my breath away and for the longest time, I'm absolutely still and then sigh deeply. You smile and reach behind you; you shrug your shoulders and they fall loose. They're perfect like you. They stand out, pert, creamy orbs without any sag. You have pink aureoles that stand out like little breasts and long elegant nipples, almost purple. I want to take them in my mouth.

"You're perfect..." I start to say, but again you cut me off.

"Shhhhhhh. Just watch for now."

You stand up and unbutton your skirt; it drops to the floor, then you push your panties down, until they, too, fall around your ankles. Kicking them aside, you sit back down, legs slightly bent and spread wide. I'm stunned. Both by the beauty of your nakedness and the wantonness of your pose. My breasts ache. I feel my clitoris straining upward. My panties are soaked, I can feel the matted hair between my legs. I want to touch myself, to touch you, but I'm afraid to move.

"Let me show you how you make me feel. If I make you feel the same way, then..."

Your hands go to your breasts and start slowly to caress them, kneading the flesh, your fingers circling the aureoles and then pulling at your nipples, stretching them, pinching them. I hear your sighs, I see your eyes close and your head roll back. Your tongue licks your lips as your hands continue to play.

I glance down, between your legs and I see that your lips are swollen, purple looking. They have opened you completely to my gaze and I stare in fascination at that darkly pink and mysterious flesh. Your clitoris is much larger than mine; swollen and out of it's hood, it looks like an angry little finger, pointing at me. Telling me that I'm responsible for your urgent need. As that thought sinks in, I feel the fire building in me, growing higher and higher. I long to touch myself...I long to touch you...

Your right hand starts its move down, across your tummy, your pelvis. Your fingers comb through your dark pubic hair and continue down, cupping your mons. You rub yourself and you groan in pleasure, your head still back and your eyes still closed. Your throat looks so lovely, alabaster, shimmering in the fire light.

Your fingers are now playing between the lips of your pussy, penetrating you. Running up to circle your clitoris and back down, to fill the ache inside of you. Then your left hand joins the other, you rub yourself with both and then start flicking your clitoris with the index finger of your left hand. Your right hand is now almost all the way inside of you, moving in and out faster and faster. Your head is back and your breath is rapid, ragged, your moaning is now almost as continual sound. I think you're about to cum.

I suddenly realize that I'm starting to climax, without having touched myself or touched you, I feel an orgasm send spasms through my body, and for a couple of seconds, I lose track of where I am and who I am. There is only the sensation and you, pleasing yourself and pleasing me.

My orgasm passes and slowly I become aware of you, looking at me smiling at me. You right hand plays gently between your legs, your left is on your breast, your breathing also, slowly returning to normal. Finally, you look and me and say

"Still have doubts?" that little smile playing across your lips.

I stand up and walk to you; you stand to meet me. My arms enfold you and our mouths meet and open. I feel your tongue exploring the inside of my mouth and at the same time I inhale your intoxicating scent, mixed parts perfume, lust, satisfaction...temporary satisfaction.

Later, in your bed, after your tongue has explored every part of me, your hands and fingers have searched every opening in my body, bringing me, time after time, to the brink and finally allowing me to explode, I'm quiescent. My head rests on your breast, my body molding itself to yours. I wonder why I resisted for so long. This was lust, but it's more than that, it's also love, mostly love and I'm content. I hear you sigh as if to confirm my feeling and I let go and drift off to sleep, dreaming of you and me and love...