Realizing how public they were, she knew they couldn’t get away with taking this further. At least not in the position they were in. She ended the kiss and turned around on her butt. She wrapped her arms and legs around him and hugged. Her pubic bone pushed against his stomach. She lessened the pressure of the hug and began a new kiss. Her pussy began a slow slide down the front of his shorts, following his spear, engulfing it subtly in the valley between the nether lips. The lips on her face sucked his tongue in and out. Her brazen seduction was working wonders on his timidity, but he still was slow to grasp her ass cheeks. The slowness was turning her on. It was like his every reaction imitated a tantalizingly slow rising cock. Once he held those cheeks hard, he was guiding her cunny on his spear, a clothed fucking.
Maybe because they were so public and people could see him holding her, he made the next move. He brought her hands down to where their bodies met so as to have them hidden by the body. His hand slid into the waist of her shorts. She unbuttoned them to allow better access. He didn’t reciprocate. It would have been too much to let loose his spear with people passing by, though if they studied the couple, any passing stranger could probably figure out what he was up to. He slipped his fingers through her tangle of pubic hair until she felt them touch the crown of her cunny. It nearly made her cum, the climax of nearly two hours of mostly mind foreplay. His climax had been building for a lifetime. Her fingers found the head of his spear beneath his shorts and pulled on it. His right hand moved away from touching her cunny, leaving the left hand to feel the slick warm damp inner flesh between her pussy lips. His right hand slid beneath her halter to cup her breast, naked to its touch. She was tugging at his cock. It was all too much for him. She felt the twitching of the spear as he sunk a finger inside her cunny and massaged her tit aggressively with the other hand. She felt the hot sticky cum squirt out the head she had been vigorously rubbing and dampen the dungarees. Once he had let go of the passion of the orgasm, he let go of her and closed up.
“Sorry,” he said pathetically.
“Jesus, Harry, you nearly made me cum,” she said. She kissed his lips, flushed hot from his orgasm, and she could feel the pulse of the orgasm lingering there. She continued after the kiss, “and I liked making you cum.”
“I’m not…I’ve never…” he stammered, ashamed at what he was trying to tell her.
“You’re a virgin!” she exclaimed. “That’s so cool.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t know. Cool? I don’t know.” She kissed him again, and he kissed back fully, lovingly. “This is going to sound really corny, but I’ve been waiting for you.”
“What?” she said.
He gently and lovingly kissed her again. When their lips separated, he looked at her face and into her eyes. “I don’t mean to scare you off.”
“But you never met me before last night.”
“No, but it’s true. I always thought love was about connecting in a really profound way. When we met and we exchanged glances, I felt my heart was going to explode. I thought you could feel the same or something similar. I saw it in your eyes.”
“Yes, well I did get a certain curious tingle. Got it again when we met again.”
“Yes,” he said like he had just won something big, something life altering, or more someone. Someone he had won because she had won him.
“And many times since. It started all up in here,” taking his hand, she showed him, spreading his hand across her face and down, “and then moved here,” across her breasts and tummy, “and here,” and between her warm damp thighs, “and here.” He couldn’t help pressing at the crown of her cunny. “It keeps tingling,” she said and kissed him.
They decided it was time to move on. As they stood, they noticed they had been left by their roommates. Harry also noticed the tell-tale sign of his having cum. She noticed him glancing about and at his pants. She laughed loud and unashamedly at him. She shook the blanket and placed it over his shoulders so as to cover the stain below. She looked into his smiling eyes.
“Come on,” he finally said, taking her hand and leading her through the park and out onto the street and into the subway and out and onto the street and up the stairs and into his apartment. They had never been so quiet around each other. It felt good.
Once inside the apartment, they entered his study, and he put on his music. She sat on the guest bed, Jim’s bed for the summer. “I forgot to get my poems,” she said.
“Later,” Harry said with a big smile. Later was a good word at the beginning of a relationship.
“Later,” she said, returning his smile, agreeing with his unspoken thought.
“Want to dance?” he asked jokingly. The music was mostly silence with chords and single notes occasionally from an organ disrupting it. Not music one would normally find a way to dance to. Jane, a skilled modern dancer/choreographer could. As Harry sat on the edge of his desk, Jane got up. She took his hand and pulled him into her arms. They were slow dancing. Mostly holding each other. Barely moving. Her eyes were closed, not so much to feel their intimate contact, but to listen to the music. It was really good. She noticed the melody. She had to listen closely, but she noticed it. Simple while using the full spectrum of a chord, sort of like an Eno melody. It was lovely.
His eyes were open. They wanted to receive every nuance of her reaction to him and his music. She suddenly broke away from him and opened her eyes. She began to move and pulse and breathe to the music. She was dancing. A solo. He sat and watched. It was a long piece, over twenty minutes. She worked the music, and it worked her until the end.
“You’re really good,” he said, not so much surprised as glad she was so talented, gifted. Poetry and dance. The girl was remarkable.
“Oh god Harry, you too. Beautiful. Are they all so beautiful? Let me hear another one.” He played her another, shorter piece. She closed her eyes and listened. It was far denser, silences noticeable by their near absence, but again there was the subtle lovely melody. And the rhythm. Weird, intricate, complicated. What had the rhythm been about in the first piece?
“Play the first one again,” she said once the second had ended. She got the rhythm halfway through, got up and moved out of the room, dancing. She moved a table and chair to the side of his living room for more space, and danced, thought and danced throughout the still small space of his living room. He watched, entranced.
“Can I take a shower,” she said at the moment the piece ended. He pointed to the bathroom. She dashed inside. After peeing she got into the shower and washed herself carefully, spending the most time on her cunny and asshole. She wanted them clean for his piercing. She noticed how clean the room was. In fact the apartment was immaculate. What a thorough, meticulous gentleman. A clean towel was waiting for her when she exited the shower.
Once dried she wrapped it around her warm damp long voluptuous body and entered the living room. He wasn’t there. She peeped into his bedroom, in which the bed was crisply made and was glad he wasn’t waiting for her in bed. She liked seducing him too much for him to pass steps. She found him in the kitchen pouring red wine from a jug. Some cheap wine. She tasted it.
“This is delicious,” she said.
“Isn’t it? Best wine for under ten dollars.”
“As good as I have had,” she said. She looked him over as she gulped down the full glass. “Drink up. No etiquette needed. And you’re still in your wet sticky shorts.” She looked over the empty counter, everything put away. She then went through the cabinets.
“Can I help you…” he said, amused.
“Here we go.” she said, interrupting. She held a plastic bottle of Wesson oil discretely enough for him to not be quite sure what she had. She tugged on his arm then took his hand. “Come on, let’s get those sticky things off.
“Lie down,” she said, pushing him onto his back on his bed. She was glad to see it was queen size. He probably needed extra room for his height, certainly not for company, Not until she arrived. At his feet she tugged off his athletic shoes, then his damp and smelly socks. Even concentrated, she liked his smell. She even took his right foot in hand and licked the bottom, mostly at the ball. She couldn’t remain for long or he’d have kicked her by accident. As gently as possible, resisting the desire to jump him and fuck him right off, she lay the foot down and rubbed her hands along his inner leg, inner thigh, across the drying semen there, and to the zipper on his shorts. She unsnapped and unzipped and vigorously pulled them off his legs. It was a throbbing tent pole that tented the elastic of his briefs. Being far too brief for his spear, they were well pulled. She wrapped her hand around his cock through the cotton briefs, one step closer to flesh on flesh contact. A lot of friction was created, but he wanted freedom for his spear, her naked hands wrapped around it. It sprung out once Jane had pulled the briefs off completely, and thus he got his wish. And more. Much more.
She took the spear in hand and rubbed all the way up, rubbing along the tip and the ridges of the head, then down to the base, touching his balls, inserting her finger up his asshole. She laughed when he jumped. He soon calmed, or rather became distracted, when her lips kissed the tip and her tongue tasted the tiny mouth of his cock, while one hand vigorously rubbed the shaft. Her one hand occupied with his bung hole, she loved rubbing her other hand up and down his long lean spear, feeling its hardness, pulling on the flexible skin covering the stiffness. The helmet felt good in her mouth, too. She sent it deep inside, letting it slide down her throat. It was a long way down for the length of his spear, but was narrow enough not to expand her throat a lot. She brought it back out, saturated with spit. She sucked and licked the big purple helmet, a beautiful crown to his magnificent length, rubbing her hand continuously from the base of his cock up to where her lips played. Then she sent it deep inside again, the helmet squeezing along the walls of her throat. Revealing her sword swallowing skills, learned from the club swallowing she had performed on Jim, she had Harry all the way inside her throat, her lips making contact with his pubic hair. Pumping his spear in and out for four strokes, she pulled him out again to avoid choking on his rigid flesh, returning to the rubbing, the kissing and the licking. The pleasure kept building as his balls expanded. He was shivering with excitement. She felt the trembling of his balls when she deep throated his spear a third time, and knew she had to ease off.
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