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| Blogs > rm_Roryardri > quandry |
beginnings....
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beginnings.... Funny how sometimes it takes so little to alter your perceptions. I was still working on my first drink, when she set her sights on me. I saw her, across the room. That narrowing of the eyes that says, 'hmmm', then the slow, sensual smile as she builds her scenario. All it would have taken was a nod, or a shake of the head, but I chose the coward's way out. I walked away. It wasn't that I didn't find her attractive. Her full body lightly covered with a pale green dress that left little enough to the imagination. Strong legs with full thighs that stretched the dress as she shifted her position. Long dark auburn hair that brushed the pale shoulders. Full sensual lips that promised a full menu of delights. No. I am not gay. I had just left a long relationship and now I felt numb. Maybe that was why the drink seemed to hit me so hard. My grip on reality was a bit tenuous. Forty minutes later, putting that first glass, finally empty into the sink I turned around. She was standing just inside the kitchen door. Alone in a small room, hard not to notice. She walked with a deliberately undulating grace over to me. "Gretchen. Or did you know that?" "Why would I know that?" She shrugged with a smile. Her eyes went to my crotch. Then her hands followed. Through my slacks, she rubbed my cock. Being normal, it rose to the occassion. "Mmmm. Somebody likes me." I let my hands fall to her shoulders. She pressed forward, her lips capturing mine, as her tongue probed and her hand grasped me through the fabric, bringing me to a full and uncomfortable state. "Aww...we can't leave you like that." She takes my hand. I'm not sure what she plans, nor if I really want to do this but there is something so unreal about it that I just follow, thoroughly enjoying the play of her buttocks against the fabric of her dress, betting she had no panties on, and somehow finding that thought more erotic than I should. She led me right past the hostess, and into the powder room. Half the party must have seen us. She turned me and kissed me again, but this time her hands went right to my belt. With practised ease she had my pants and shorts down and my erection in her hand. She looked up at me with a smile as she slid to her knees, caressing my cock and cupping my balls as her lips encircled the head. She had an amazing mouth. I couldn't believe how she seemed to sense every reaction, and control the whole experience. Her warm moist tongue played along the ridge of the underside of my cock as she massaged my balls almost but not quite to the point of pain. I felt myself getting close, but Gretchen controlled the pace and moved her mouth across my abdomen as she stroked me to keep me close to the edge, then when I thought I might go nuts, she began rocking her head up and down my cock and moaning as I warned , "I'm cumming!", and she pumped me and sucked until I thought I would never stop cumming. Then she stood up and kissed me, my hot cum still on her lips. "Mmmmm... nice. Thank you." She turned and opened the door. I stood there, my now limp cock sticking out as she walked away. I pushed the door closed, and cleaned myself up, then exited. I don't know if I expected to see her waiting, but she had gone. Or gone on. I couldn't imagine mixing with the party, and wondering how many people had seen me standing there , post cum, and discarded. I went home. It was two weeks later that I saw her again. The small grocery store was a popular one for the neighborhood, but I hadn't seen her before, so it was a surprize. I smiled at her, but then went on shopping. "You're mad at me?" "Not at all." "But you don't want to talk to me?" I looked at her. In jeans and a sweater, she was more relaxed looking, but somehow still very hot. As though she read my mind, Gretchen smiled. "Hello, Gretchen. My name is Steve, by the way." "Hi, Steve. Do you actually eat that crap?" I looked into the basket. The fish fillets were fresh. The carrots and the spinach were fresh. Then I saw the hot dogs. I laughed. Somehow, after the way we'd met, it seemed really bizarre that she would pick on me for liking hot dogs. "A guilty pleasure." "Now that I can relate to." "Really?" She stared into my eyes, her own narrowing slightly as she tried to decide if the remark was clever or snide. "So are we going out?" "There's a play at the college, tonight." "Okay. Pick me up at seven, ok?" "Where?" "I'll meet you at the Mines." The Mines was the local name for the Kingston Mines ... a coffeehouse. I nodded. I really wasn't sure if I was going to go or not. That air of unreality was still all around us. She looked great. The short jean skirt she wore would have been more appropriate on a less full figured woman, but somehow on Gretchen it looked right. The peasant blouse was loose and sheer enough that I caught a lot of glimpses. I realized that a lot of peple from the ticket lady to the usher to the program girl to the guys who took the seats behind us saw almost as much as I did, but Gretchen seemed to find all that just topping. We talked about the play, and about writers, and music. Every time I tried to get it to a personal level, she smiled that smile and asked me something sexual. I got the hint. Back at the Mines we had hot chocolate, mine was Belgian, she grinned at me as she asked for French with extra cream. I had to use the bathroom. At the Mines they have two unisex bathrooms, side by side. As I opened the door, afterward, Gretchen was standing there. "Thank God, I picked the right door." She laughed as she pushed me back inside and her lips came down on mine. I kneaded her naked breasts under the loose shirt, she kneaded my cock, then her hands opened my belt. I tried to hold her back. I wanted to go back to my place and do it right. She pulled back, and stared at me, then went back to what she had in mind. Her talented mouth took me quickly to the top and over. Then the sticky kiss. Then she walked out again. I straightened up after closing the door in the face of the young girl who had been waiting. When I came out, I half expected her to be gone, but she was sipping her chocolate and licking the cream from her lips. We listened to a not very good aging hippie folk singer, and listening to the conversations of strangers. Every now and then I would feel Gretchen's foot on my thigh, nudging between my legs. When we left, I walked toward my place, but at the corner, she stopped. "I go this way." I started to turn. She gave me the same look she had given me when I tried to stop her oral game. She kissed me hard then walked away. It occurred to me that I didn't know how to get in touch with her. Almost two weeks later, sitting in the Mines, she comes up and hugs me from behind, lightly biting my ear. "Hello, Gretchen." "How did you know it was me?" I shrugged. I was surprized to realize I had actually missed her. Today's outfit was a long linen skirt over a catsuit that fit tight enough to show the outline of her aureolae. She saw me looking and without even looking to see if anyone were near, she pulled the scoop neck down to bare the rapidly rising nipple. I let my tongue trace across my lips. She laughed. "Want to go back to my place?" I looked at her. "Sure." "Come on." Not at all surprisingly, she lived over a Wiccan shop. "They have some great oils." I could imagine. Her small apartment was warm and somehow overstuffed. The big comfy chair in the living room, the studio bed with its big fluffy bolsters. In place of the usual artwork, she had dreamcatchers and macrame that somehow seemed to fit. She left me in the living room and went into her bedroom. "You coming in?" I walked to the door. The catsuit was on the floor. The skirt was across the back of a chair. The bed was big and deep and covered with pillows. I stood there in the door frame enjoying looking. She peeled back the covers to show her full lovely body. Her pubic hair was full and thick and drew my eyes. I undressed. She covered up, pulling the covers up to her chin. Gretchen scooted over but kept the covers up as I slid under the covers next to her. I took my time. We kissed. Then she was all over me, and rubbing that hairy bush against me and sucking my neck and digging her nails into my shoulders, as my hand caressed her ass and tried to caress her breasts. Then she tried to slide down under the covers. Not this time. I pulled her up. She tried the stare. I stared back. She turned away. I slid down under the covers. She tried to get away. My tongue found her slit through the hair and teased her clitoris. She moaned and kept trying to pull me back up, while trying to move herself into the lower position. I wouldn't let her. My fingers teased as my tongue probed. Gretchen groaned and cursed and pulled my hair. I kept licking her. Then I reached up and bit her nipple and as she arched her back I slid my body up and entered her. Gretchen struggled to get away. This was nuts. I pounded into her and she sank her teeth hard into my neck. I pulled her head back by the hair; she squirmed but even as I felt my own orgasm bursting she screamed like she was dying and shuddered through her own orgasm. Lying together, her arms around me, her leg between mine, she seemed totally different. I realized somehow that this had been what it was all about. She had wanted me to dominate her. I didn't even know what Domination was, but this had been what she had wanted. We made love often over the next few weeks but it was always the same. Sometimes the struggle was almost a fight, but she never walked away. I was sitting in the Mines when she walked in with another man. He was tall, thin, and very 'artsy'. I chuckled to myself. I gave her a two finger salute and a lick of the lips. She laughed and blew me a kiss. ..........................R |
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*soft smiles* This girl so enjoys a wordweaver as well endowed as You!
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