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Subject: {JB}JDR"Lunch Date"( MF rom )[1/1]
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JOHN DARK REPOST
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=====================
Lunch Date
by JB
jms5b@virginia.edu
She stood before the mirror, anxious, wondering if she should go through
with what she had planned so impulsively. It had come up a couple of weeks
ago in one of their mild discussions after sex. You know the kind:
"What would you like me to do differently?"
"You do everything just fine."
"No, really."
"Really, everything's great."
"But isn't there *anything* you'd like to try?"
And on, and on, sometimes coming out with fantasies and sometimes not.
He'd finally owned up to it: casually, no pressure, he said he'd always
wanted to see her pussy shaved.
Her immediate reaction was to shake her head. She seldom wore makeup and
never high heels: wasn't natural the best way to go? He agreed, of
course, but she kept thinking about it long after he had forgotten he ever
mentioned it. Now she stood, his electric beard clipper in her hand,
looking at herself in the mirror and wondering if she should go ahead. She
examined her body critically. Long, strong legs, her best feature in her
opinion. Breasts good, that mole on her shoulder, an appendectomy scar...
pretty normal. Maybe a surprise would do him good. A smile touched her
lips. Maybe it would do them both good. She flipped on the clippers,
hesitated one moment more, then began.
A few careful minutes later, curly hair was on the floor and nothing was
left between her legs but stubble. She was surprised to find her heart
beating faster and her breath coming quickly as she turned on the shower to
complete the job; despite the vibrating motion of the clippers, she had had
to be so careful not to nick herself anywhere... important, that she had
not thought that she was aroused. But now, as she spread shaving cream
over her pussy for the first time, she wondered. Carefully she drew the
razor over the remaining stubble, wondering if she was supposed to go
against the grain of the soft hair or with it. Razor rash was the last
thing she wanted, she thought, and giggled out loud. Bit by bit, with the
warm water beating down on her, she began to be aware that she *was*
aroused. Part of her rapid heartbeat was from nervousness -- would he like
it? would she? -- but part was from the beginnings of horniness. Again
and again she caressed herself, seeking out the little niches of stubble
left on her mound. It was so smooth, so slick! She let her fingers slip
between her labia, rubbing lazily past her clit -- oops, there's another
patch, she thought, and drew the razor past again. There was menthol or
something in the shaving cream, and it was producing a not unpleasant heat
on her tender, naked skin. She rubbed her whole hand over the area and
shivered. There, she was done. She turned towards the water to wash off
the shaving cream, and felt each part of the spray separately on her newly
exposed skin. She rinsed herself off, and suddenly realized that the
slippery feeling on her skin was not from the shaving cream after all --
that had all washed away -- but from her own juices. She was as wet as if
she had just had a mind-shattering orgasm.
She turned off the water, and as she carefully dried herself off, she felt
the slipperiness of her pussy again. Stll naked, she walked back out to
the mirror and examined the results. A moment's panic washed through her
mind -- had he wanted her to do this because he wanted her to look like a
little girl? But her mind was instantly reassured as she looked at her
body. This was a woman's body, nothing like a ten-year-old prepubescent
body. Her flaring hips, her full breasts, all served to accent the pink,
inviting mound of her pussy, and when she reached up to touch one of her
nipples, she was not surprised to find it hard and aching. She could just
see the tip of her hard clit from between the folds of her pussy, and as
she brushed her hand over the smooth surface of it, she moaned. She
couldn't help it.
She dressed quickly -- her husband was coming home for lunch and she wanted
to surprise him completely. She slipped on a blouse that was a little
sheer, under which she normally would wear her prettiest camisole, and a
long black skirt with nothing on at all. Another glance in the mirror
showed her nipples, still hard, through the front of her blouse, but no
other hints. At that moment, he came through the door, smiling cheerfully.
"Hey, baby, what's for lunch?"
"I ordered out," she answered equally cheerfully, thinking to herself, If
you only knew what was for your lunch... She came down the stairs. His
mouth dropped open as he saw the sheerness of her blouse.
"Oh...my...God," he said, in rapt parody of a Valley Girl. "What is all
this? And what do you have on under that skirt?"
"A big strong man like yourself should be able to find that out without my
help," she said primly, and he came over and put his arms around her and
kissed her firmly.
"You smell really good," he said, when they had both caught their breaths,
but he said it vaguely, his hand cupping her breast, his thumb rubbing over
the nipple in the way he had that could nearly make her come all by itself.
In her already-aroused state, it felt like there was a direct connection
between her nipple and her clit, and as he rubbed that hard nipple, her
clit ached to be touched as well. She pressed more firmly against him,
feeling how hard he was against her, enjoying his indrawn breath as she
rolled her hips to massage his cock inside his jeans. "Mmmmm," he said,
even less coherently. But she had plans. She didn't want to miss one
moment of her big surprise.
She led him over to the couch and sat him down. He reached for her, and
she lifted her skirt just far enough to straddle him. He began to unbutton
her blouse, but she took one of his busy hands in her own and gently led it
under the skirt.
His eyes widened, and against her thigh she felt his cock leap in his pants
as he felt her nakedness. "Oh my God," he said. "You didn't... you did?"
She nodded, nervous now, but suddenly his whole hand was cupping her pussy
(her thighs were wet from her own dripping juice) and the heel of his hand
was against her clit, and he was carrying her and she was riding him and
when she came she cried out so loudly she thought someone might call the
police. She told him so, grinning, and he nodded, not even hearing her.
"You are so damn sexy, oh my God," he said, and lifted her skirt and moved
her aside onto the couch. He knelt between her legs and spent a moment
gazing at her pussy, swollen and soft and naked. Then, as she knew he
would, he descended on her with his mouth, licking each part of her,
caressing her with his tongue, making wide sweeps from her vagina around
her clit and back again. It wasn't long before she was ready to come
again, trembling and breathing in gasps, but he stopped. Removing his
pants, he looked at her again, and as he entered her, so smooth, so easy,
so good, he said, seriously, fighting for control, "You are beautiful."
Sex had always been good with him, even from the first time when they had
both been scared out of their minds, but his time it was phenomenal, it was
gorgeous, she cried out again as she came, harder than the first time,
bucking against him and feeling her pussy tighten around him in the waves
and ripples she knew he loved. Then he cried out as well, and she held him
to her as she felt the spasms of his aching cock as he came in what felt
like pints inside of her.
They stayed like that for a moment, panting, holding each other on the
couch, smelling the good smell they made together. He kissed her, long and
tenderly, and smiled that smile that had turned on a small glowing sun in
her gut from the first time she had ever seen him, a smile to make any
girl's thighs loosen a little.
When the guy from the Chinese takeout rang, they ignored him.
=====================
Lunch Date
by JB
-30-
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