Article 86325 of alt.sex.stories:
From: deidreng@aol.com (Deidre Ng)
Subject: Taxi, Sofa, Bedroom
Date: 7 Aug 1995 18:23:55 -0400

			    Hors d'oeuvre

	He invited her to dinner the next day. Maybe they could go to
this new Italian place, he said. Of course, she accepted. They would
meet in the lobby at 6:30.

	In the cab, going uptown, they talked about work. His hand
moved across the space between them during the conversation. As he
spoke he began to draw circles on the back of her hand, circles that
alternated with strokes. His touch was so light, like just breathing
on her skin. It was, of course. exactly the way she touched herself
and wanted him to touch her, though not in the back of a cab and not
on the back of her hand. It riveted her attention. She stared dumbly
at his hand on hers, not seeing it, feeling it, feeling her
imagination and desire transplant the sensations from the back of her
hand to her shoulder and cheek, to the side of her breast and the
inside of her thigh.

	This process might have reached her nipples and clitoris,
which were quite ready to be reached, believe me, except that they
were there and had to get out. He escorted her inside and took her to
the table he had reserved. They were seated, given menus, orders were
taken. She went through the whole restaurant ritual on auto-pilot,
until the ice water calmed her down.

	After the salad, she opened the conversation with "I'm really
looking forward to kissing you later this evening." It was a little
scary, starting like that, but it was honest and direct and it brought
up the subject she most wanted to talk about.

	"I hope you're looking forward to being kissed in return," he
replied. "I'm certainly looking forward to kissing you. Kissing is a
way of speaking without words, and we have a lot to say to each other.
Where do you like to be kissed?"

	Various parts of her body all began shouting at once that they
should be mentioned first in answer to this question. Her pussy argued
strenuously that since being kissed there felt best, it should be
mentioned first. Her nipples rose to argue that they should be
mentioned because they came first in a physical sense, and would also
be a good compromise between the obvious and the sluttish. Her lips
said they would get kissed first anyway, so they should get top
billing. Her skin answered that since it was biggest it was in the
running too.

	It was very hard to keep everything straight and answer the
question with all of these places getting excited and reminding her
brain of just what it felt like to get kissed in one particular spot
or another.

	She took a deep breath and told all the different parts to
shut up for now, that with any luck they would all get kissed sooner
or later.

	"I'll say the inside of my thigh. It's not the first place and
its not the last, but getting there can be half the fun, n'est pas?
And you? Where do you like to be kissed?"

	He smiled. "Taxicabs, sofas, bedrooms, most anywhere, really."

	"Taxicabs, sofas, bedrooms, what an interesting progression
they make."

				* * *

	Dinner arrived. They talked about how long they had watched
each other in the office, wanting to break the ice, but not knowing
how. They talked about losing virginity and the importance of going
slow. All the while she was thinking about him, how it would feel when
he first kissed her, how it would feel to lean against him and press
her breasts against his chest. She wanted to know what he would feel
like above her and the taut expectation of her first opening her legs
to him. And most of all, how he would kiss her pussy and bring her to
orgasm with his tongue on her clit.

	She excused herself and went to the bathroom. Her panties were
damp from her imagining. She took them off and held them clenched in
her fist as she walked back to the table. She dropped them in his lap
as she sat down.

	"I don't think I'll be needing those the rest of the evening
and I want you to know what an impression you're making on me."

	"I'm equally as impressed, I assure you," he said.

	The table they were sitting at had a long tablecloth on it,
one that draped down over her thighs. She leaned back in her chair and
started talking in a whisper. He had to lean forward just to hear what
she was saying.

	"Someone looking under this tablecloth right now could really
get an eyeful of my pussy, because I'm going to spread my legs and my
dress is going to slide up my thighs when I do, and of course you know
now that I have no panties on. So my dark wiry hair would be plain as
day around my pussy. I can slide my hand along my thigh and through my
hair and start to spread my lips apart. Inside I'm very wet already
and when I touch my clit my fingers are slick. I can give myself a
very soft touch, a stroking, circling touch that's just right. The
more I touch myself the hotter and wetter I get and my fingers get
wetter and stickier. I usually just keep going on and on like this and
when I want to come I start to imagine that I'm getting kissed on my
clit by a wonderful man who knows just what to do and how softly I
want him to kiss me. But I wouldn't do that right now, because I think
you might be that wonderful man, and I want you to be that wonderful
man. But I thought you should know that that's the effect your having
on me."

	She brought her right hand up from beneath the table and laid
it flat on the white cloth. The tips of her middle fingers glistened
wetly.

	He stared at her for a long time. She was afraid he had taken
the whole thing the wrong way when he began to smile.

	"Let's not stay for dessert."

	"Agreed."

				 Taxi

	Outside the restaurant, they held hands waiting for a taxi.

	"I'd like to take you home tonight," she said. "I have a sofa,
I have a bedroom. If one ever comes, we can start with a taxi and see
how far things go."

	He agreed. Soon after, they flagged down a taxi and got in.
They sat close together in the back. As they started through the night
traffic she put her hand to his face. His beard and skin were warm to
her palm as she turned him and brought him close. She wanted to kiss
him hard and show what she was feeling, but she held back at first.
Their lips just touched, half open, brushing back and forth. They met
again, pressed forward a little, stuck together and then parted,
pulling at each other. Several more times they kissed like this,
exploring the surface textures of each other. Then she felt the heat
well up inside her. Her eyes closed, her hand stole behind his neck
and drew him close. With a little animal noise in her throat her mouth
opened his, inviting his deep kiss and kissing him deeply in return.
This was what she wanted then, more than anything. She melted in the
heat of it, her pulse shouted in her ears and thudded between her
legs. She felt dizzy, holding him tight in the vertigo of desire.

	They kissed through the stop and go of city traffic, through
the random lane changes that taxis make in some form a dominance
ritual that only their drivers understand. She was very aware of not
having her panties on. As they crossed the bridge she broke from
kissing him and holding him close began to whisper in his ear.

	"Your kisses are so wonderful, soft and slow or hot and deep
depending. I'm glad I don't have to fight you, that we can explore
each other. I love your kisses on my skin, how you've kissed my cheek
and neck, my ear and temple. I want your mouth on the rest of me.
Kissing my shoulders, sucking my breast, I know it will feel so good
when you take my nipple in your mouth. And I'm desperate for your
mouth between my legs. On my thighs like I told you, slowly. Tease me,
let me know where your going before you get there. I have dark, wiry
hair around my pussy, you'll find out soon. I want to feel my hair
tangled in your beard, the little pull and tension on my skin as you
move. I want you to taste me, open me and taste me. I've been wet for
you since before dinner. I want your beard and mustache wet with me. I
know you'll be good to me then, not too hard or rough with me where
I'm most tender and sensitive. Just the lightest touch thrills me. I
want your tongue to take my breath away with just the slightest touch.

	"You know I'm not wearing panties. If we were on my sofa I'd
want you to keep kissing me, not play with my breasts or try just yet
to take my clothes off. I'll give you my breasts later and the clothes
are a game in themselves. But just sitting on the sofa kissing I'd
want you to put your hand on my thigh, knowing I have no panties on.
Touch me slowly, higher and higher. Keep kissing me and as you move
your hand I'll spread myself for you, because I want you to be there,
touching me. When your fingers are sticky and wet I want to lick them
and share the taste with you. I know you'll have a gentle touch with
me. Maybe you'll want to kneel on the rug and kiss me there. I'd be
spread wide open then and very ready, ready for you. You could spread
my lips and lick the juice off me, I wouldn't want you to stop.

	"I have to keep my legs together now, I don't want this whole
taxi smelling like my pussy. But you should know that I want you
tonight to be between my legs in so many different ways. My head and
heart are already committed, everything else follows helplessly."

	She hugged him and kissed him again. They pulled up outside
her building and got out, tipping the driver generously. She felt the
cool night air on her thighs as she got out, a contrast to the hot
dampness high up between her legs. She felt shaky on her feet, and
leaned against him heavily as they walked into her building. Standing
in the elevator, kissing, standing close, she felt a trickle on the
inside of her thigh. She shivered. She had told him everything, had
revealed herself to him. And very soon she would know that she had
done the right thing.

				 Sofa

	Her apartment was dark, but she didn't bother to turn on the
lights. She pulled up the window coverings and let the pale moonlight
and the diffuse city-glow paint the room pale silver. He pushed the
door closed behind him. She crossed back to the door to lock it. She
pulled him close and kissed him, tasting him again and feeling his
heat. Breaking their embrace, she took his coat and laid it with hers
on the old school bench near her door.

	She took him by the hand and led him silently to her couch.
His hand was very warm in hers. They sat together, with a little space
between them so that they could turn and face each other. He put his
arm over her shoulders and around her, his other hand held hers with
their fingers interlaced. They spoke quietly, with their heads close
together.

	"Thank you for dinner," she said. "It was wonderful food and
delightful company and conversation that was... stimulating."

	"The company can be stimulating, too. You were telling me
about your pussy, how excited you were. I'm very excited also. It's
pretty amazing to hear a woman talk like that, very intimate, very
erotic. I want to touch you just right, kiss you just right. Like
this."

	He touched her cheek with the tip of his finger, as light as
baby's breath. He traced a line from her cheekbone to her ear and
along the line of her jaw, just making contact with her skin. Then he
wet his fingertip in his mouth and touched her open lips. He moistened
her lips, and wetting his fingertip again, touched her lower lip in
the middle, making the tiniest circles. She stopped him, gasping.

	"Oh, yes, that's it, that's just how I want you playing with
my clit. Soft and delicate. Use your tongue like that and I'll come so
hard, I know it. I dream of being touched like that. When I touch
myself I think of being kissed that way, on and on."

	He looked intently at her.

	"Would you show me?", he asked. "Would you show me how you
touch yourself? You know yourself better than anyone. I'd love to
learn how to do exactly what you like from the one who knows best what
that is. Don't just tell me, show me."

	"You'd like that?"

	"Yes."

	She got up and went to sit in the chair.

	"I never play with myself with all these clothes on. If you
want to see me play with myself I'll have to take off my clothes."

	She took off her glasses and laid them on the table. She
opened the buttons of her suit one by one.

	"I'm going to pretend you're not here. No offense of course.
As a matter of fact, its very exciting to be asked to share this with
you. I'm going to pretend that I've come home late from work and I'm
too tired to turn on the light. I raised the coverings on the windows
and I've come to sit in this chair and unwind. I feel a lot of sexual
tension because there's this man in the office that I wish I could
talk to. Well, more than talk to. He's really attractive and sweet and
more than anything I wish I could fuck him and that he would go down
on me and make me come with his mouth on my pussy. So I'm tired and
more than a little bit horny this evening as I take my suit jacket
off. And I think, why not? Why not be nice to myself tonight, I
think."

	She took her jacket and folded it neatly and laid it on the
back of the couch, next to him. Underneath the jacket she had on a
white silk sleeveless blouse. She began to untuck it as she continued
speaking.

	"Sometimes I can sit in this chair in the dark, and look out
my window over the rooftops and see the moon. I pretend there's a man
in the moon with a super powerful telescope, so powerful he can read
the want-ads over your shoulder with it. He can see me sitting in this
chair, see every detail of how I strip and put my legs over the arms
of the chair. My pussy is facing straight out the window and he can
zoom in his telescope right between my legs until he can see every
hair on my pussy and every move I make with my fingers between my
legs. He's been watching me play with myself since I lay in my bed in
my parent's house on the other side of the continent. He watched my
first explorations of myself. Wherever I've traveled he's found me
with his telescope and watched me as I came, who knows how many times
over the years. He gets really turned on watching me, someday he'll
come to the Earth and introduce himself and I'll let him go down on
me, because he knows better than any other man how to satisfy me.

	"So tonight I'll sit in this chair and pretend I'm being
watched by a man who'll know from watching me just how to do it right,
just how I touch myself and how I like to be touched."

	She crossed her arms and pulled the blouse over her head.
Underneath the blouse was a pale camisole, with thin straps over her
shoulders. In the pale light it almost seemed to glow ethereally.
Beneath that was evidently nothing. Her breasts gave the camisole
rounded curves and shadows and her nipples stood out against the
otherwise soft contours. She unzipped the skirt behind her and let it
drop slowly to the floor. Then she picked it up and folded it neatly
and set it next to the jacket. She sat back down in the chair, wearing
just the camisole. She began to play with her breasts through the
shimmering fabric. She pinched and rolled her nipples or pulled them
upright with her fingernails. She cupped her breasts and let them
fall, rubbing against the soft cloth. Her breathing became a series of
murmurs and sighs.

	After a short while, she slipped the thin straps off her
shoulders. She pulled her arms free of the straps and rolled down the
top of the flimsy garment to reveal her breasts. She licked her
fingers and repeated all the playful actions of before, with the
addition of wetting her nipples for the pinching and rolling and
pulling. The camisole slipped farther and farther down her stomach,
gathering finally as a pale white ring around her waist.

	Now she sat back in the chair. For a moment she was still,
unmoving.

	Then she raised one leg and rested her heel on the edge of the
cushion. She stroked her leg with the tips of her fingers and her
nails, very delicately and slowly. She brought up the other leg and
repeated the touches, obviously luxuriating in her sensation. She
began to work more and more on the inside of her thighs, stroking back
and forth inward from her knees and back again. As she did so, her
legs fell farther and farther apart, until at last her knees had
fallen to rest against the arms of the wide chair. Her whole pubic
area lay exposed, a dark place as yet unexplored in any way.

	She hooked her legs slowly over the arms of the chair,
slouching into it. The tendons stood out taut on the inside of her
thighs. She was stretched as wide open as she could go. She tilted her
head back and started to slip her fingers through the shadow of her
pubic hair. Her fingers traced the outline of her pussy's outer lips
and flicked the hair back from the edges and from where it was tangled
together. She wetted her fingers and gradually separated her lips,
spreading herself out, completely open to view.

	She peeled back her inner lips in the same slow fashion. With
her pussy open and glistening, she pulled back the hood of skin from
her clit.

	One hand held her clit exposed while the other, wet from her
pussy and her mouth, strummed lightly across the face of it. She was
completely still except for the flickering movement of her hand.

	Occasionally she shifted or stopped to rewet her fingers or
rest a brief space. But then she would resume, some variation of the
passage of her fingers stroking her clit. The tension slowly built in
the rest of her body, in the intensity of her expression, in the
quickness of her stroke. Now her breath came in ragged gasps, and a
long low moan, and then a heaving thrashing climax with her legs
clamping her hand between them, stilling its rhythm.

	She caught her breath, curled up in the chair. When at last
she could speak again, she said "It's usually not that strong. Its
usually a halfway thing. But I think having you here helped a lot. And
I was very excited from before. In the end I just thought about you
over and over again, going down on me, your tongue doing all those
crazy little things, hot and wet on my clit."

	She got up and crossed the space to the couch. She was naked,
he was still fully dressed. Stood in front of him, then straddled his
knees and sat on him and kissed him hard on the mouth.

	"Taxi, Sofa. Bedroom."

	"Bedroom," he replied.

			       Bedroom

	She undressed him. She took her time. She was feeling tingly
and relaxed at the same time, the after-effect of making herself come
for him as they sat in the living room. She was very happy to be in
this place and time with him, that he was there in her bedroom with
her. At first she simply stood and held him close, enjoying the
strength of his embrace, the thump of his heart beneath his crisp
white shirt. And the lump in his pants. Thump + lump = HUMP, she
thought to herself, and suddenly the desire to be beneath him caught
fire inside her. Beneath him and so so open to his thrust into her.
Her hands shook a little as she undid the buttons.

	He bent his head and kissed her, hot and direct on the mouth.
Their tongues slid together. With a little whimper of pleasure in her
throat she held him tight, grinding her pelvis forward. She felt the
roller-coaster, butterflies-in-the-stomach inside her. Things were
going to go faster than she wanted if she wasn't careful.

	He kissed her cheek, her ear. He kissed and nipped her neck as
his hands crept around her sides to cup her breasts. She wasn't
getting any farther with undressing him as they stood together, him
fondling her breasts, cupping them and tugging at the nipples, she
engulfed in the feelings he was sending through her. She had wanted
him to do this for so long and now it was happening. It was really his
hands moving warmly across her skin, not just her aching imagination.
The way he pinched her nipple and pulled it was him and not her
fantasy of how he might be.

	She removed his hands from her breasts long enough to undo the
cuffs of his shirt. She pulled the shirttails free and threw it on her
dresser.

	He pulled the undershirt off without waiting for her. For the
first time, she pressed her breasts against his chest, feeling them
flatten against his warm skin. She held him, swaying gently for a
while.

	He knelt and pressed his head to her chest. She put her arms
over his shoulders and held his head close. He turned his head and
began to suck her breast. She knit her fingers together at the back of
his head as he took her nipple into his mouth.

	"Oh, sweetie, suck my tit. I love your teeth on my nipple. Oh,
yes, harder, even harder, Oh, yes, suck it. You don't know how hot
you're making me."

	He kept sucking her breast and she felt his hand begin to
stroke the inside of her leg. Light brushing motions, rising higher
and higher. She turned her leg out to give him room to reach her
pussy. He stroked her hair and gently separated her pussy lips. All
the time he kept kissing and sucking her breast.

	"What you're doing feels so good. You've got me so wet" She
gasped as he slipped his fingers inside her. She felt him begin to
stroke her with his fingers, very slow deliberate strokes as he sucked
her. His fingers pressed against the front wall of her pussy and every
stroke sent a wave of desire washing across her. It was too good to
make him stop. He kept sucking and stroking her, and she felt the
certainty of her orgasm grow within her. It grew until it filled her
and there was no room for anything but the feeling he was giving her
and then it was more than she could stand and she felt herself coming,
clenching her pussy around his fingers, her tit pulling loose from his
mouth as she shook in moment of it.

	She leaned against him, recovering her breath. He hugged her,
then holding her tight, picked her up and sat her on the bed.

	"You're too tired to help now. Just watch and rest for a bit".

	She leaned back on her elbows, her long dark hair spilling
over her shoulders. She lay, her lower legs dangling over the edge,
her legs slightly spread.

	He unbuckled his belt, stepped out of his pants and pulled off
his socks. His erection was very obvious in his underwear. He reached
into his briefs and straightened his cock, put his hands on his hips
and pulled the briefs off slowly.

	She watched his cock emerge, wonderfully erect and stiff. It
made her mouth water to see it in the half light. The feeling inside
her was like a force tugging her legs apart the longer she stared at
him.

	"Lean back and close your eyes," he said.

	"You were so generous to me, out there in the other room. You
gave me something so private and precious. You let me into a moment of
vulnerability most people never share. Someday I'll repay you. I'll
let you see me in that same moment of privacy, of vulnerability. Now
let me give you that feeling you've said you wanted."

	She took her knees and pulled them up and out, offering
herself to him. Her tongue ran around her lips. He knelt. He kissed
her thigh and ran his tongue along it, then nipped her skin along the
trail that his tongue left, hard enough to make gasp and shiver. He
nipped the taut tendon in her groin.

	He held his hand flat over her pussy. With slow large circles
he brought it closer, till it began to brush against the damp hairs of
her pussy. She let go her breath in a long exhalation of delight. He
leaned close and let his breath caress her. She responded with a
quiet moan.

	"Oh, please, now, I need you now." She pulled the lips of her
pussy back with one hand, the other searched for his head, sliding
around it to pull him closer. Propelled by her hand, he bent his head
to kiss her finally. Her cry carried on the moonlight, soft and
delicate.

	He reinserted his fingers as he kissed her. His tongue
caressed her clit with the tenderness of a feather. He took her clit
in his mouth and sucked it delicately in a way that brought her to the
edge and then released her. Her pussy pulsed around his fingers and he
began to slowly stroke her again. He pressed his face into her pussy
and set his tongue fluttering over her clit, laying a hundred
different kisses on its shaft and top and hood.

	She was moving her fingers to match his slow strokes. Her
fingers pulled at the folds of her pussy as his fingers slid out, and
released the tension as he penetrated her again. Everything said she
was ready to come. He felt it, felt it in the way her hand pressed his
head into her, in the throb of her clit under his tongue, in the
silence where her gasps had been. He didn't change his pace or the
motion of his tongue, just let her crawl closer and closer to the
inevitable moment. Then suddenly the moment came and she was coming
with a wail of ecstasy and thrashing of her hips as she caught his
head between her legs and held him until the spasms passed.

	She turned and pulled back the sheets, crawled underneath and
put her head down on the pillow.

	"That was so sweet, so right. I love you. I knew you would do
it just right. I want you. I want you loving me slow and easy. I want
to spread myself beneath you, put my legs around you, feel you slide
yourself inside me."

	He slid under the covers, beside her. He felt very warm next
to her, as they kissed she could feel his heartbeat and the hot length
of his cock against her belly. If he hadn't moved to kneel between her
legs, she would have pulled him there. She grabbed his cock and
lubricated it with her spit, and doing the same to her pussy, guided
him inside her.

	It was good and slow and everything she wanted it to be. He
slowly filled her and she felt his hot stiffness inside, rubbing away
the ache of desire. He stopped deep within her to kiss her, to rock
their hips together and let her adjust beneath him. His withdrawal was
deliciously slow, his return ecstasy. She knew he couldn't keep it
slow forever, he must have been so excited himself. So when he pressed
himself to her, burying his face in her neck and his fucking her
quickened, she encouraged him.

	"Oh, yes, please come in me now, give it to me, fuck me,
harder, oh yes, come in me, come, come, fuck me, oh, oh, oh!"

	She was coming herself, in a way she rarely had before. They
cried out together in a mingled climax.

	It was their first time.