A few minutes later I was letting Sofia into my apartment. She walked in ahead of me, taking in the space. My furniture is a blend of modern and old-fashioned, dark browns and burnt coppers.
"Classy," she said.
"I take a lot of pride in it," I said, dropping my keys on a side table. "As long as I have a nice place to come home to, I can handle anything the day throws at me."
"I like that philosophy."
She did a half-pirouette, gave me a coy smile, and then walked into the living room. I walked to my bar cart.
"Can I get you a drink? Canned marg?"
She sat down on my couch.
"Please," she said. "Canned margs are for being parked by taco trucks."
"Oh, my apologies."
She smiled, leaned back into the couch, put her arms out across the top.
"Feels like I'm in your domain," I said.
She nodded. "Maybe you are."
"Your drink order, ma'am?"
"Gin martini!" She adopted an imperious voice. "Sharp-ish!"
I bowed extravagantly. I made her a martini, made myself an old-fashioned. I brought her drink to her.
"Sorry I don't have a tray to serve it on," I said.
"What is this? Fast casual? I don't want my drink touching a surface that's touched the drinks of the poors!"
I laughed and sat down next to her.
"You're good at that," I said.
She laughed. "I've been talked to like that enough."
We sat on the couch, sipping our drinks. We chatted more restaurant horror stories, then I asked her about her life. She was originally from Fresno, had moved down here after high school without much in mind besides a better life. She had various interests, in music and fashion, but hadn't committed to anything yet. As we talked, we slowly turned toward each other on the couch. Eventually her knee was up, eventually my hand was resting on it, eventually we were both leaning against the back of the couch.
"What about you?" she said. "What's Jack's story?"
"Various filmmaking interests," I said. "Haven't committed to anything yet."
"What do you commit to?" she said, not unkindly.
"The moment," I said, smiling.
She smiled back. "Maybe you could teach me about that."
"I'd love to."
I put my drink down on my coffee table, then stood up. I extended my hand.
"Come with me."
She took my hand, put her martini glass on the table, and stood. I led her slowly across the living room to my bedroom door, and through it.
I turned on the light and she stood in the middle of the room, looking at my queen-sized bed, piled high with pillows. I put my hands on her shoulders, turned her gently to me. She looked up at me, suddenly vulnerable. I just looked into her eyes calmly, projecting comfort and ease.
I put my hands on the bottom hem of her t-shirt, started pulling it up slowly. She raised her arms above her head, and the shirt slid up over her breasts, up the length of her arms, and then off. I turned from her and laid it gently over the back of my desk chair, then returned to her. She was standing with one arm crossed under her breasts, holding her other elbow.
I calmly looked her in the eyes as I undid the button of her jeans, as I unzipped her fly, as I put my hands under her waistband. Then I pulled her jeans down her hips and down her legs, lowering myself to the floor as I went. Her red panties were revealed to me, then two thin thighs, then tan and smooth legs. Her ass was mid-sized, with a small bit of heft to it, but it felt like her breasts had sucked up everything in the gene pool. When the jeans were around her ankles, she stepped out of them, and I went to lay them gently over her shirt.
She was now just in her underwear, her hands alternating clasping in front of her crotch and behind her back. I stood back in front of her and slowly pulled my shirt up over my head. My own shirt I threw aside, watching her eyes linger on my torso. Then I started unbuckling my belt, taking off my own jeans. I pulled them down and kicked them aside.
We looked at each other, only a few inches of space between us. I looked down at her massive breasts, held up by her bra. She looked down at where my cock was starting to press out down the leg of my briefs.
I put my hands gently on her shoulders, hooked my fingers under the straps of her bra, and pulled them off her shoulders. They fell loose around her upper arms. I reached around her and undid the clasp, she let me pull the bra off her arms, and I went to lay it out gently across her other clothes. I had a job to do, had to continue the sensual unpacking of each other, but her breasts had fallen free and I had to take them in.
They were massive, bigger than d's, with big brown puffy areolas. Violet Myers-esque, with a slight sag to them, and I don't know what field of science was needed to explain how Sofia's frame could support them.
"You're staring," she said.
I looked up at her face, she was smiling slyly.
"Of course I am," I said. "They're incredible."
She blushed. I pulled my briefs off and my cock sprung free, sticking out half-erect. She looked down at it, and I watched her taking it in.
"Now who's staring?" I said.
She didn't look away from it. "It's incredible."
I squatted down, my face coming level with her crotch, and hooked my fingers in her panties. I pulled them down her legs, she stepped out of them, and I tossed them aside. Before rising back up, I looked back at her pussy. It was perfect, shaved and symmetrical, looked almost untouched. I stood.
She looked up into my eyes, us breathing softly together.
"Now what?" she said.