The first day she saw him, she thought fleetingly that he was rather cute.
He looked young, scrawny even, with dishwater blonde hair, bright blue eyes and a quiet demeanor. He was taller than her by four inches, and his voice was a gently husky one.
They worked together for a month, flirting subtly and discreetly. She knew in her belly that the way he looked at her was the same expression that involuntarily mirrored itself in her face. She quit for a better job opportunity after week five ended, and he asked her to see a movie with him, being no longer afraid of the consequences of fraternizing with her with this burden lifted. She learned the same day that he was 28.
9 years beyond her 19.
She became afraid and excited when he was around her after he told her his age. She felt terribly childish around him, and as she got to know him he became sexy in his quiet, nerdy way.
On their first date he hugged her with calloused hands, warm and rough against her bare skin, and between her legs her pussy became almost unbearably sensitive. She had to stifle a little cry when he gently slapped her jean-clad ass jokingly as she was walked over to her car.
That night she touched herself as soon as she was alone, biting her lip with something akin to guilt, reaching her trembling fingers into her folds and finding that she could get two fingers to glide in easily, something that, while not quite unusual, usually took someone else touching her to cause. She tried not to think of him, knowing that he probably couldn't take her seriously and that he most likely didn't think of her sexually. But all the same, she powerlessly came to the thought of him touching her, his lightly lined face above her as he penetrated her with two strong, warm fingers.
Two days later he invited her to his house. They had not kissed yet after her being there two hours with him. He put on a movie and lay next to her in bed. She wanted so badly for something to happen, but was also inexplicably afraid to initiate anything. She lay beside him, unintentionally making herself wet fantasizing about him placing gentle, tantalizing kisses on her neck and lower.
He turned and looked at her in the dark, as if he had somehow sensed her thoughts, and didn't immediately kiss her lips. He first kissed her collarbone, softly, so softly. It was such an invasion of privacy. He, who had never kissed her even on the cheek, kisser her collarbone, and was soon moving his lips lower. His lips touched the edge of her bra, and her nipples throbbed at the proximity. His breath was warm, and he smelled deliciously of cigarettes and of summer air. She tilted her head back, expecting him to continue until his tongue found the hard, aching tips of her breasts, but he instead moved upwards and covered her lips with his, grasping her chin and snaking his tongue into her mouth. She gasped and kissed him back, unable to do anything but let the naughty pleasure of their wordless contact roll over her.
Soon he was sliding his hand up beneath her bra, and she was breathing hard as he tweaked her erect nipples lightly, then twisting them gently. He pulled her shirt up and yanked her bra down, encircling first one nipple and then the other with a warm, wet, rhythmic caress. She couldn't stop herself from arching her back, thrusting her breasts closer to his lips, and she couldn't stop little cries from making themselves existent beyond her slack mouth. He groaned into her breasts and reached his other hand down between her legs, using his thumb to rub her crotch. She gasped and moved her hand over to rub him in return, letting out a gasp as she grasped his full length and width, both of which were extremely considerable. She was surprised, him being so thin. She became overcome with an almost childish lust, and slid down beneath him before he could contest and took him into her mouth, loving how he stretched her lips. She gagged on him happily, moaning as he followed her breasts with his fingers, continuing to stimulate her.
