We meet innocently in the street. We have never been friends per se, but we went to elementary school together, and when we started college we had some conversations on the net, and had briefly run into each other about town once or twice.
Molly asks how I am, where I’m working. We make small talk for ten minutes. I can barely concentrate on what she is saying; she looks like an angel. Perfect skin; those eyes that hold the entire world; don’t even get me started on her breasts- perfect D’s that give the distinct impression of ripe fruit. It’s a chilly October afternoon and her nipples are clearly visible through her sweater. She doesn’t seem to notice or care.
She throws me a curveball-“Hey, do you have plans right now? You wanna grab a cup of coffee or something?”
“Sure,” I tell her, wondering what in the heck is going on.
Of course, the nearest coffee place is closed, “Customer Service Improvement Day” or something. “Hey, you know what, we’re right near my place, let’s just go there! It’s cheaper, anyway,” she says, laughing. Her laugh sounds like sunshine. We walk the three blocks still chatting it up, although by this point I am becoming uncomfortably aware of the effect her pheromones are having on me.
We get to her building, and she begins making the coffee. As the water begins to boil we both become acutely conscious of the fact that we are running out of things to talk about-not having seen each other for several years, and not really being friends to begin with, after all. Still, there’s nothing awkward about it-we seem to be hitting it off. Something about her effortless confidence puts me at ease. We sit at the table and I take off my jacket.
“Oh here, let me take that for you,” she says, and reaches toward me. When she takes my coat her hand lingers on mine for a second and our eyes meet. Her breathing quickens visibly.
The moment breaks and we are left in a moderately awkward silence. I fumble for something to say. Earlier she had told an anecdote about her boyfriend, so I ask about him. “Oh, he’s not my boyfriend anymore.”
“Yeah, sometimes you just have to cut your losses. I’m a free woman!” she says, laughing. When she laughs, she puts her hand on my shoulder. She takes off her sweater, and it immediately becomes obvious that she is not wearing a bra. I try not to stare, but my efforts are only half successful. We can both feel the sexual tension; her nipples have perked up even more than they were outside in the cold.
“The loss was all his.” She looks at me and raises an eyebrow.
“You think so? He made me feel so unattractive.”
“Yeah. You know what the last straw was?”
“God I can’t believe I’m telling you this, I haven’t told anyone! He wouldn’t go down on me. It just made me feel so…unwanted.”
“That’s terrible!” I am shocked at her forwardness, and my erection is about to burst the zipper on my jeans.
“Oh hey, the coffee’s done,” she says. “Sugar?”
She walks across the kitchen to where I am leaning on the counter. “It’s just behind you,” she says, reaching past me. Her left hand goes over my right shoulder and her breasts brush my arms. My heart almost stops. “Sorry,” she says, blushing. Her nipples stand at attention.
“It’s OK,” I reassure her.
“You know what, I don’t think I feel like coffee after all,” she says, and kisses me on the mouth. I almost blow my load right then.
Her tongue is hesitant at first, but when she feels me respond she becomes more eager. I put my arms around her. She puts her hands in my back pockets and pulls me bodily off the counter. Suddenly she hesitates.
“Oh god I’m so sorry, I can’t believe I did that! I shouldn’t have assumed…oh…” I kiss her again mid-sentence.
She lets go of her hesitation, and begins to turn around without breaking the kiss. She lifts herself up onto the counter, and wraps her legs around me. Her skirt slips up and I can feel the heat between her legs. My hands roam across her body, feeling the delicate firmness of her flesh. Every curve flows naturally into the next. I am in heaven.
She takes my hands, and guides them to her chest. I begin to massage her breasts through her t shirt, suddenly very very glad that she isn’t wearing anything underneath. I pinch her nipples through the soft cotton. She moans. “I haven’t felt like this in…a long time,” she says, breathlessly, through my tongue. “God, I wanna feel every part of you at once!”
“Soon,” I reply. “Lie on the table.”
“Lay down, on the kitchen table, with your legs hanging over the edge.”
We disentangle, and she does as I say. I lift up her skirt, and see that her lacy panties are soaked through. I kneel on the floor and kiss her through them, drinking in the lusciously pungent aroma of her desire. She moans, louder. I begin to kiss and lick up and down her crotch, and bite her inner thigh right at the edge of the fabric. “Please,” she moans.
I pull at her panties. She slides her thumbs through the elastic and slides them down her long, smooth legs. I kiss her vulva with passion. She gasps. Her pussy is dripping, it feels so hot that if it were a bit colder in the room, it would be steaming. It tastes like pure lust distilled down to a clear, viscous nectar. I can feel her pulse in her clit as I massage it with my tongue. Her heartbeat gradually speeds up. I nibble her labia, then take them whole into my mouth, and roll them back and forth on my tongue. Her writhing becomes chaotic. I drive my tongue into her, caressing the walls of her vagina as her moaning escalates in volume and intensity. Finally I return to her clit, to find her heart racing, and she comes. She screams for a good five seconds, and her hips slowly come to rest. Her juices are covering her thighs and my face. She is sweating. “Ohmygod,” is all she can say.
She is still for a few minutes, during which I gently caress her mound with the palm of my hand. Finally, she says, “Come upstairs.”
We go to her room, and she lies on the bed. I join her and we begin to make out. It gradually becomes more intense; I can feel her coming back on. She tugs at my shirt, and I pull it over my head. She does the same, and then slides her skirt down and throws it on the floor. She is naked; a perfectly formed goddess of lust. She takes my hand and guides it between her legs; I dip my fingers into her dripping temple. A moment later, when my fingers are covered in her juices, she tugs at my arm, and puts my hand on her breast. I circle her nipple with the tips of my fingers, painting her with her nectar. We repeat this process a dozen more times, using the seemingly endless supply of honey pouring from between her legs to cover her breasts and chest.
When she is satisfied that she’s sufficiently lubricated, she pulls me around so I am sitting on the edge of the bed. She kneels in front of me, unzips my pants, and envelops my cock in her voluptuous curves, slowly moving them up and down, sliding over me. It feels divine. I move her hands away, and begin to fondle her as my erection hardens. She is covered in her juices; her breasts are slick and smooth. I gradually speed up the pace. I can feel my precum spreading over her and mixing with her fluids as I make love to her beautiful tits, and the sensation drives me wild. I quickly lift her up and lay her down on the bed, straddle her, and come all over her chest. She laughs, and rubs my come all over her body-into her breasts, across her stomach, into her pussy.
The sight of her touching herself like that is quite possibly the sexiest thing I have ever seen in my life, and my cock begins to stiffen again almost immediately. She rolls me over onto my back, and takes me into her mouth. Her lips and tongue caress the head and then the shaft, occasionally flitting over my balls. Once I’m fully hard again, she puts her lips on the head, and then slowly moves down until I’m sure I can feel her throat muscles contracting around my cock. I look down and sure enough, her lips are wrapped around the base.
I can feel myself getting close, but I don’t want to finish without feeling her pussy again. I take her and pull her up to my mouth, then kiss down her body to her creamy throat, her collarbone. I circle her nipples with tongue. I pull as much of her breasts into my mouth as I can and then kiss down her stomach. The taste of our juices mixing makes me even hornier. She reaches over to her nightstand, opens the drawer, and pulls out a condom. She opens the wrapper with her teeth, and slowly rolls it on. I plunge into the center of her, and it feels so good that I almost faint. She gasps, and begins to ride me.
It feels like the most natural thing in the world. Our bodies seem to melt together; this sensation is heightened by the fact that both our bodies are now coated in each other’s saliva and sweat and come. Every time I kiss her nipples or bite her neck or nibble on her skin, it is as if I can taste the sensation of sliding in and out of her, taste her desire, taste the primordial union of our bodies into one.
After a few minutes she gets off and rolls over, her legs in the air. Her meaning is not difficult to divine; I mount her and glide in effortlessly. I put my hands on her hips and begin to slowly, slowly thrust into her. She is trembling; I can tell she wants me to go faster. I don’t want this to end yet, so I will make her “suffer” a while longer. I slow to a stop, resting all my weight on her clit. I gradually lift myself up just enough to release the pressure, then push back down. I continue like this, not really thrusting, just rubbing her clit with my pubic bone, until she screams, “Oh God [gasp] stop that unless you [gasp] want me to come [gasp] right this instant!”
I do not want her to come, right this instant, so I withdraw, slowly. She shudders. I roll her onto her side, and enter her from behind. She turns to kiss me, and in the process rolls onto her back. I reach down and begin to rub her pussy with my fingers as we kiss. She takes me by the wrist and begins to move my hand faster and press harder on her throbbing clit. I jerk my hand out of her grip, and place her hand on her pussy. She is confused for a moment, but then realizes what I want; she’s happy to oblige, and begins to caress her clit.
Watching her pleasure herself while I’m inside her almost sends me over the edge. I hold on long enough to roll her over onto her stomach, and pinch both her nipples as hard as I can. She turns around and forces her tongue into my mouth; this is the last straw. I give one last thrust as deep inside her as I can possibly go, with all my weight, and feel my cock spasm as a veritable river of come pours into the thin latex barrier between us. She feels it too, and combined with her fingers on her clit and my hands on her nipples, her pussy begins to convulse. I can feel her muscles tighten and this intensifies my own climax. The glorious feedback loop increases exponentially with each thrust and spurt and spasm, until finally we are spent. We lay there, exhausted, drinking in the smell of each other.
Suddenly, I hear a door opening downstairs. “Who is that?” I ask, suddenly realizing the rather awkward situation we’re in.
“Oh don’t worry, it’s just my roommate.”
“Is she going to find us here?”
“Maybe, but it doesn’t matter. Trust me.”
“What do you mean?!”
“Well, I didn’t quite give you the whole story about breaking up with that asshole. Since I couldn’t get what I needed from him, I had to turn to…other sources. He came over one time and let himself in, and she had me all tied up and was absolutely going to town! He was not pleased.”
“I see.” I am somewhat surprised, but at this point too exhausted and happy to care. Molly kisses me and says, “I hope you can stay for dinner!”
I hesitate, and then the image of Molly tied up and being satisfied by a beautiful woman flashes through my mind, and I tell her that I’d be happy to.