Something About Veronia

Something about Veronica, I kept repeating to myself, something about her, something about her that was unlike anything that any human, let alone human female on this planet possessed. The something could be described as innocence, an innocence that stems from an air of unreachability on my part, a quality of non-judgment that pervades her entire life. She seemed to me, to have a purer soul than everyone else I have ever met, but you couldn’t tell her that, because that would make her self-conscious beyond belief. She is in her early twenties, but her parents still kept a close watch over her every decision.

I’m 25, have been living on my own since I’ve been out of high school, and at first had a hard time relating with the young “mama’s girl,” as I referred to her more than once. I had been working at the restaurant for my entire working life, but she joined the team about eighteen months ago. It was always servers competing against the kitchen staff. For some reason, however, with Veronica, we were never against each other. Her innocence kept me from lashing out at her when she was new at her job, and frankly, not very good at it. Her beauty, class, and posture, kept me fascinated with someone that I had no business being interested in, but was drawn to nonetheless.

The restaurant that we worked at could be described as a “small town, high class,” type of place. The building was a landmark of the sleepy town where I lived and worked, and about a year ago, my boss, the restaurant owner let me live in an upstairs apartment, completely melting the boundary between my work and home life. I could be found at work more nights than I was off. Usually, on weeknights, I was the only cook in the kitchen, and there were only a couple of servers on the floor. On Monday, Veronica was serving, and it was a night I would never forget.

It was a slow night, the night that as a cook, you always hope for, but as a server, was bittersweet. Veronica and I often had discussions about her friends and relationships, and through this I discerned that she had had a few boyfriends, but had never gone all the way. I mentioned her innocence, and I think that she might just have been waiting till marriage to make that final step. Veronica looks at me as someone she can trust. We hang out after work, usually at my place. We even have sleepovers, her religious zealots for parents even trusting me to take care of their daughter. They just assumed that I was the nice guy who couldn’t take advantage of a situation like this with a hot young girl sleeping 10 feet away from me.

The worst thing was, they were half right. I hadn’t to that point taken advantage of the situation. I wanted more than anything to fuck her brains out, to strap her to a piece of my furniture and make her call ME daddy, to slam into her pussy until she cried out it pain. But these feelings only came a couple of times a day, they were usually accompanied by a fluttering of the heart and a growing of my member.

So on this Monday night, a slow night after work, we had worked out that we would have one of our sleepovers, and I made a promise that you would make a move, or for god’s sake, at least tell the girl how you felt about her. Usually, during our sleepovers, Veronica and I watched tv, played videogames and ended up talking for a few hours. This night wasn’t any different, but the talking seemed to come a little earlier. Veronica wondered aloud if she was making the right decisions in her life, whether waiting until marriage for sex was worth it, and whether the conservative Christian values that her parents instilled in her were of any value. She mentioned that she just found out that her parents were pregnant with her older sister before they were married, and suddenly she didn’t feel that they had any room to preach to her any more.

I took all this with a big grain of salt. It wasn’t usual for Veronica to get this emotional during our sleepovers, but I wanted to seem like I was there for her as a friend if she needed it, and certainly didn’t want her to censor her thoughts. Veronica started saying that she trusted me more than any man she had ever met, and she knew that I wouldn’t hurt her. I was sitting mere inches away from her on my living room couch, when she leaned in and said “I want to sleep in your bed tonight.”

At first, I was offended. I thought, “Do you expect me to sleep on the couch in my own apartment?” But her reaction seconds after she said this illuminated the fact that she meant this as an invitation to sleep in the same bed, for the first time. My reaction, was the same as it had always been when she seemed ready to jump into a situation. “Are you sure?” and “Have you thought this through?” I didn’t verbalize any of this, thank god, because that would have made me seem like a scared child, and my slow reaction time saved me.

“I’m ready whenever you are.” She said, before I had the chance to say anything with my word hole. She got up off of the couch and went to the bathroom.

I was alone. I was confused. I assumed she was now undressing, or changing into more comfortable attire. I was left there on the couch wondering what I should do next. I got up and stumbled into my room. I searched through my closet for my best smelling underwear, holy crap “I should do more laundry,” I thought to myself. I glanced at the unused condom that sat on my dresser, unused since my last sexual experience with my ex-girlfriend, several months ago. I wondered if I should hide it, if Veronica saw it, if she would get the wrong idea about me, or the right idea, the idea that I wanted to fuck her, in a safe way, with no STD transmission. I decided to just grab it, and stuffed it into my dresser next to my bed. I stripped off my t-shirt and pants from work, and jumped on my bed. My heart pounded in my chest as I waited for my Veronica to emerge from my bathroom.

I hear the door open. Her silhouette enters my bedroom doorway. Veronica was wearing a plain revealing tank top, and a pair of my boxers that she stole the last time we had a sleep over. I lost control of my voluntary reactions, and began drooling as I stared at her curves that she had kept hidden from me until this very moment. I had imagined what she looked like in her underwear 1000 times before, while I abused my cock with my right hand, but the real thing, with the way the tank top fell at her breasts, revealing more than a hint of cleavage, and showed off an ample amount of her midriff.

At the sight of all of this, my cock began to have a mind of its own. I felt it grow in my boxers, my full erection straining against the fabric in mere seconds. It was out of my control, and in my embarrassment, I rolled over onto my side to hide it. Veronica, twice as smart as I’ll ever be, laughed, and told me, “Colby,” that was my name, I don’t think I mentioned that, “you don’t have to hide the fact that you’re attracted to me, I find it very flattering. I’m aroused too, but I don’t have a barometer of sexual arousal that grows with my attraction for you.”

This was all happening so fast. A minute ago, we were talking on my couch, now we were in our undergarments talking unabashedly about my erection and her inability to possess one. Veronica glided across my bedroom floor before I had the opportunity grasp the whole situation. She never seemed to touch the ground. Before I knew it, she was on the bed with me, making it creak as the distance between us narrowed. I stiffened out of nervousness, but she didn’t miss a beat, as she pawed at my neck, and nestled into my chest.

Her mouth started to tease my lips with the lightest licks and whispers ever experienced on this four and a half billion year old planet. She crawled on top of me as my body caved in to her frame. I reached out and grabbed at her breast, letting my inexperience show . I pawed awkwardly at her supple tits, groping at her bust with reckless abandon. She pulled away slowly, and exclaimed, “Would you like a better view of the objects that you’re playing with?”

I never knew that this side of Veronica existed. She expertly peeled away her yellow tank top, revealing a tan brazier. She usually wore loose fitting clothes at work, so it was quite visually stimulating to see her breasts pushing against the satin barrier. Was she actually expecting me to be able to handle all of this? I was about to blow my load when I saw her emerge from the bathroom. Now that she was touching me and in her underwear, I couldn’t take it. I had to do something to take control, so I wrapped my arms around her waist and rolled over with her in my arms.

She had teased my lips with her mouth earlier, but now that I was in control, I probed her mouth with my tongue, pushing the envelope further than it had been in our year and one half relationship, officially declaring my intentions to ravage her body. Her mouth tasted like sweet tarts, not like alcohol, like my first kiss four years ago with the slut that took my virginity. My hands wandered up and down her upper body. I unclasped her bra, luckily for me she wore a relatively easy garment to disrobe. The single clasp popped easily, and the last piece of clothing that came between me and her milky white breasts fell down her body.

I have always been a breast man, so when the opportunity came around, I leapt at the chance to look at, play with and taste Veronica’s nipples. I reached up at once felt her mound of feminine flesh and searched for nipple. My index finger rubbed across her aureole, and a second later found her pink protrusion. I squeezed it between my finger and my thumb, while I maintained my focus on giving her the most passionate French kiss of her life. She let out a soft moan, but it was stifled by my aggressive mouth enveloping her own. She fought back, reaching for my ear with her mouth. Her tongue found my ear lobe, batting it back and forth driving me near the edge. My arms and legs broke out in spontaneous goose bumps, with the hair on my arm standing on end. Her hot breath became almost too much to take, as I involuntarily narrowed the gap between my neck and shoulder, unintentionally forcing her face away from one of my most tender areas.