I have never rejected the idea of having a woman as a lover, yet neither did I dream I would ever pursue it. This particular night I was sitting in a little corner bar I sometimes go to. One of those dark, smoky places you frequent when you want to blend in and seemingly disappear. I wasn't expecting to hook up with anyone, let alone a woman. I had just finished my first drink when she sat down at my table a few moments later.
"Hello," she said, "mind if I sit here?" I wasn't protesting, though I have the feeling if I had she would have sat down anyway. She was tall, sleek with a face full of defining bone structure. Long, smooth flaming red hair framed her face in a way that made me want to reach out and stroke it.
I thought it a bit odd that she was wearing a miniskirt in the middle of winter. She also had dark nylons with boots that went up to her thighs. To top it off she had on a black shirt with just a hint of her enormous cleavage showing. Her outfit seemed to be in contrast with her perfectly manicured fingernails. She had managed to pull the ensemble off making it very seductive.
There was a quality of utter detachment about her, as if she looked out upon the world seeing it, yet untouched by it. Everything about her- her hair, her outfit, the way she held her cigarette- looked deliberate, yet she held herself so well it didn't seem fake at all. She looked over the top of her glass at me slowly and steadily running her eyes over me from top to bottom.
Her appraisal sent an electric shock through my body, full of possibility. I could see a certain hunger in her eyes, one that I had noticed too often in my own. "I'm Ginger" she said reaching for her purse, and then out of nowhere, "want to fuck?"
Leaving the bar, a rush of frosty air swept past us. It was a colder than usual winter night. You know the kind of night where you can't seem to get warm no matter what you do? A nipple night. It was an evening so cold; my nipples stood straight up, peeking through my shirt demanding release. Well, it wasn't the cold's entire fault. My nipples stay hard. I just happen to be one of those women who are fortunate enough to have very sensitive nipples.
I heard somewhere that women with erect nipples are sexual beings, aroused creatures. I don't know about that, but I know my nipples stay stiff whether I am doing the dishes or pumping gas in my car. They seem to have a mind of their own. My nipples were at full attention from the moment I laid eyes on Ginger. She was gorgeous. I have been called "beautiful" myself a time or two, but to call her beautiful wouldn't do her justice.
I don't remember the ride to my house. I doubt we said more than two words to one another. I just knew I had to have her. We found ourselves standing in front of my fireplace. Looking into her eyes I felt my breath quicken and my skin heating up with desire.
It was as if all the feelings I had ever known were bunched up beneath my skin. The moment she touched me I knew my body would explode with feeling. With every want and need I had my entire life. We took off our coats and I offered to get her a drink.
Heading into the kitchen I almost tripped all over myself thinking about seeing her naked. How would I approach the subject of sex? I felt ridiculous, I had never been with a woman, I didn't know where to begin. I was excited and nervous all at the same time. I wondered if I would go through with it.
I reached for the refrigerator door when I felt her behind me. It seems I wasn't to be the one who initiated sex. She put her hand over mine and closed the fridge door. I turned around and she pinned me up against it kissing me in a way that would be impressed in my head forever.
She reached out to grab me and I fell quickly into her arms. Melting into her embrace part of me wanted to say, "no, stop!" The other part of me knew nothing could feel that good and still be wrong. Her face drew near and when her mouth parted I eagerly thrust my tongue inside.
A sensation of wetness and heat filled me. I felt her arms wrap around me tightly and her breasts pressed up against mine. I could hear her breath quicken, become heavy, labored. Just knowing she wanted me excited me that much more.
Barely making it back into the living room, we began taking off each other's clothes. I felt sparks of desire wherever our skin touched. Her hand cupped my breast and I once again started to protest, but there was no turning back. We positioned ourselves on the floor in front of the fire.
