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From: chriss@speech.braille.uwo.ca (Chris Smart)
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Subject: {ASSM} Migrating South
Date: Sun, 23 Apr 2000 21:10:30 -0400
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This is the final version. There are minor editorial changes between it
and the first posting of the story last week.
The following is a first attempt at erotic fiction by Chris Smart
and Jessi roman. If you like it or have constructive
comments/criticism to offer, please e-mail chriss@braille.uwo.ca
I'd better not see this somewhere on-line under someone else's
name. You have been warned... :-)
Migrating South
The day had started out great for her, just as she thought
it would. She was finally going to meet him, the guy she had
fallen head over heels for on the Internet. The expectation of
his arrival was overwhelming her.
It seemed like forever, but eventually she was standing by
the window in the airport waiting for the plane to touch down.
And finally, there it was, and the knot in her stomach tightened
a little more. As she watched, waiting for him to come through
those doors, her heart began to race, and her palms began to get
sweaty in anticipation.
At last, there he stood. Entranced, she just stood there,
staring at him; he was here, in the flesh. "He's even more
adorable in person," she thought to herself as she walked over to
greet him.
"Hello," she said and threw her arms around his neck. He
reciprocated her actions, and right there, even though they were
a spectacle to passing strangers, they stood embracing and then
passionately kissing one another. Laughing and realizing that
they were the current center of attention, they let go of each
other and grabbed the rest of his bags and headed home--to her
place.
The whole way home they talked about everything imaginable,
as though they'd been friends their whole lives. But they never
talked about the one thing they both knew was inevitable. They
had been talking to one another and had been an item for a few
months now. All the while the sexual tension had been building.
While driving and talking, she stole little wayward glances at
him, and the nervousness of things to come started to set in.
Knowing that her "first time" was about to become a real, live,
and intense experience had her slightly jittery, but excited,
nonetheless.
As reality set in completely, she pulled into her parking
space. Helping him with his bags she led him into her house,
not knowing what to expect or what was coming next, but feeling
his closeness only made her want him more. The slight but
definitely alluring aroma of his aftershave had lit a fire deep
within her, a fire not easily put out.
The coffee he had gladly accepted during his flight did
nothing for his nervous stomach, the added acidity and caffeine
making him even more jittery, on edge, and generally
uncomfortable. "I'm not accepting that horrible shit again." he
thought, "even if it is free!". Walking towards her in the
arrivals area, he tried to smile, tried not to fiddle with
anything, tried in short to look more relaxed than he really was.
Then, there he was, in front of her, and with little time to
form an initial impression, he was in her arms, saying a nervous
"hey," and then gladly returning her welcoming kiss. The scent
was intoxicating, but that was nothing compared to the feel of
her in his arms, her fullness, ripeness, plumpness ... "All
woman for sure!" he thought, as his nervousness ebbed away, to be
replaced almost immediately by a low, throbbing, desire for her,
for those big legs and arms to encircle him and draw him into her
warm depths. More bold now, he ground against her and combined a
suck of her tongue with pressing it between his tongue and the
roof of his mouth, rhythmically squeezing her tongue in this
position as if devouring it. Was that a tremor of desire he felt
in her? Definitely a sharp intake of breath there . . .
He felt the nervousness returning as they drove to her
place, however, and wondered more than once if they were babbling
a bit too much. The odd brush against a thigh kept the desire
building though, his seat belt and jeans restricting and
providing resistance to a growing bulge beneath. "I can't do this
tonight, not yet anyway," he thought, surprised at his own mild
feelings of panic at the thought of being her first lover,
knowing only too well that you can't take back that first
experience, no matter how it goes.
After orienting himself to her place, noting important
things like the route to the bathroom, how the shower worked, he
suggested they both go for a meal somewhere, his plan being to
sit on the same side of a booth as her in some restaurant, and
sneak the occasional feel of one delicacy while he ate other
lesser delicacies. Taking her hand under the table and squeezing
it affectionately, the two sets of fingers interlocking,
separating, arranging themselves in a new pattern, thumbs
stroking the other's palm, he was rewarded when a new electric
huskiness crept into her voice when trying to order a drink from
the waiter.
"Um, yes, two cokes please, for now. Thanks," she said.
All along, under the table, their fingers were still entwined.
"Mmm. Very soft hands," she thought as she held on to him.
Periodically, he'd steel a little feel of something a little less
obvious than that of her hands, a private, concealed area, that
no one before him had been allowed any such access. She only
hoped that he didn't notice that with every lingering touch, her
pulse picked up, and her breathing pattern changed. Little did
he know, but he was causing her to lose her cool, something she
had hoped to keep under control. "If he builds things up like
this for another whole day," she thought, "I might just have to
make my needs known a bit more forcefully then through mere
hand-holding!" As if reading her mind, his hand strayed from
hers and idly stroked her soft, meaty, warm inner-thigh, her
immediate--instinctual?--reaction being to clamp her thighs tight
on his hand as if to say "Mine! All mine!"
After joking around about the odd items and crazy names on
the menu, they were prepared to order. He had been comically
indecisive, and after playful begging, finally came to a
decision. She thought it was cute how he came up with several
ways to annoy their waiter, and back up his jokes with an
affectionate squeeze of her hand. "No ice in that coke?" she
thought, "Damn! Oh well, we can get ice somewhere else for
later."
They ate in partial silence, both almost grateful for the
voices and conversations of the others around them distracting
them from any major discussion. Occasionally, they'd make joking
remarks about the oddness of the goings on of all the others in
the room. She liked how he could concentrate on his food while
also concentrating on some other conversation in the room,
adopting a single-minded awareness that, until now, she had
thought only carnivorous beasts on the hunt possessed.
All of a sudden, remembering a titbit from one of their
e-mails, she began to laugh.
"And just what are you laughing about?" he asked.
"Nothing really," she replied, "just thinking about
something you said."
"There is no blood in my larger head right now," he said,
suddenly right there near her ear, flicking the lobe with his
tongue after this statement, "so why don't you remind me?"
Without anything but a soft giggle, she began to rub his
back. Eventually bringing it to the area right above the top of
his jeans, and the bottom of his shirt. She slid it midways
under his shirt, and caressed his smooth skin. Sliding it
downwards to the small of his back, she allowed her fingers to
drop beneath the jeans, not searching for anything in particular,
but just getting a small feel of him, and those silky boxers.
She smiled, satisfied by the look on his face, his slight shy
embarrassment as he resumed chewing his food.
"Are you finished, sweetie?" she asked.
"No, I think we both need something to relax with and sip,"
he said, ordering two Bayley's Coffees soon after, knowing she
couldn't help but love something that tasted like alcoholic
candy, good strong coffee, sugar flavored with lime juice, and of
course whipped cream. They both got a slight but noticeable--not
to mention very pleasant--buzz from this beverage, and she
giggled at his usual practice of rotating the mug with his tongue
extended down the inside, getting all the sugar and cream off.
She noticed that his reach, while not long, was extremely
efficient, not to mention diligent.
"Hmmm, he really puts his heart into licking tasty things."
she said under her breath, with a smirk.
The bill paid, the waiter tipped, they headed out into the
cool evening air.
"Walking a bit or driving somewhere Jess?" he said, turning
to face her and stopping her in her tracks, keys mid-way out of
her purse.
"And while I've got your attention," he said, coming much
closer, hugging her and resting his chin on her shoulder, "I
don't think we should postpone the inevitable any longer. It's
time we made up for a lack of something, after what seems like a
lifetime of great communicating."
She reluctantly backed away, aware all too much that his
quiet words and hot breath on her neck were making her incapable
of rational decision-making. Her keys once again in her hand,
she lead him to the car, knowing exactly where they should go to
enjoy the first part of the oncoming night.
It seemed like the walk back to the car took forever. Her
mind raced, nervousness returned, and all of a sudden she
couldn't do anything but fumble around with the keys. Finally
she was able to open his door, then hers and start the car.
They rode in silence and she thought, "if I'm going to do
this, I'm gonna do it right." She knew ahead of time that her
roommate would be gone all this evening, and the house would be
totally theirs, with nothing to stop them from tonights'
happenings, other than themselves.
"So, where we going?" he asked as if he didn't already have
an idea.
Trying to sound calm and collective she replied, "home." And
with a jittery laugh, she added, "don't worry, no one is there."
When they returned to the house, walking up the path to the
door, knowing that once inside, moods, emotions, and most
importantly, both of their needs were about to be shown to one
another. She wasn't sure of what exactly to do or how to begin
anything. So, she began to pace. And along with the pacing, she
started feeling a little bit silly. "God, girl," she scolded
herself, "do something!"
With that thought in her mind, she walked into her bathroom
and began to draw a hot bath. Reaching up into the cabinet she
pulled out a tiny bag tied with a little ribbon and inhaled the
scents which came from within. Turning the bag over above the
tub, tiny, raspberry, bath salts fell below into the depths of
the steamy water. She lit her small votives that she had
previously arranged for this very moment and stood back admiring
the scene. She called out for the missing piece of the puzzle.
"Chris?" she called.
"Yeah, Jess?"
"I'm going to take a bath now," she said and then paused for
a moment. And then in the most seductive and inviting voice she
could muster, she called to him, "Would you be interested in
joining me?"
As he approached the bathroom, he became aware of three
things: nervous anxiety in the pit of his stomach, added moisture
in the warm air, and a raspberry aroma that was nothing short of
stimulating. Taking her in his arms, he began kissing her neck
passionately, tongue and lips roaming, spreading his saliva
around on the smooth soft skin. His heart was pounding
comparably fast to his first time years earlier, as was her heart
as his tongue flicked up and down and along the ridge of her
collarbone, sneaking every now and then into the top of her
shirt.
Then, kissing her at just the right speed on the mouth,
their tongues duelling and sliding over each other, his hands
crept up inside the back of her shirt to the clasp of her bra.
Once undone, he helped her out of them, her soft full breasts
filling his hands as he palmed the hardening nipples. The water
half-filling the tub, the steamy and fragrant air filling the
bathroom . . . all that was needed now was to finish undressing
and get in the bath.
He decided to let her finish undressing herself, not wanting
to add to her nervousness by exploring her most private of
regions yet, he quickly got out of his own clothes. His sheer
silk boxers were not nearly enough to conceal his rock-hard cock
poking straight up through the elastic wasteband. As his
underwear slid down his legs, he left his nervousness behind by
leaning over, flexing and stretching his butt, thighs, and
calves, giving her a full view of his slim but muscular legs.
She eased herself into the hot bath, slowly at first, as the
water temperature was much warmer then the surrounding air or her
skin. Once in and half-propped up by one end, legs extending the
length of the tub, she dipped a hand in the water and grasped
his, gently but insistently tugging him closer. As he gingerly
stepped in facing her, his left foot placed firmly between her
knees, he took both her hands in his and climbed in, leaned
forward, and fell into her waiting embrace. Their mouths locked,
their much more ravenous kissing betraying the months of pent-up
need and desire. He paused long enough to reassure her that he
could kiss as long as she needed, that he wanted her to lead him
on but at her pace, his voice husky, trembling, betraying both
his extreme state of arousal and honorable level of restraint.
She had never been kissed with such passion and intensity
before. She was excited. His reassuring words and
gentleman-like patience helped her to fight the nervousness
within. She wasn't sure if it was ok for her to joke around at
such a serious time, so she decided to keep her thought to
herself.
Thinking that although patience is a virtue, she wasn't
positive that she wanted to prolong this event for too long. She
returned his next kiss, while placing a hand around his neck and
fiddling with his hair. All the while her other hand rested in
the center of his chest.
She began to move it around his chest, rubbing, massaging,
seeking. She eventually worked it around to his back and in
long, swift motions began to stroke it. Slowly making her way
down, farther than before, and getting a nice feel of his tight,
muscular behind.
In an attempt to be daring, and out of character, she pulled
her hand around to the front of his body and back to his ab area.
Realizing where she was heading his muscles tightened, and she
thought she heard a light gasp and a quick intake of air come
from him. She had noticed before, when he was standing,
stretching in front of her, that his cock was standing at
attention and she had let it go. Not this time. She took it
into her hands and stroked it. At the same time, she decided to
switch it up a bit and pushed him backwards, so he was the one
sitting down, with a leg stretched out and one still bent. Not
wanting to have any intercourse activity in the tub, she
straddled the knee of the leg he had completely straightened, and
then leaned forward towards him.
She planted a trail of kisses on him, starting at his mouth,
going to his neck, and stopping long enough to nibble on his ear.
She resumed kissing his chest, then circling and flicking both of
his nipples lightly with her tongue. Going a little lower,
leaving kisses around his belly button, she wasn't sure if she
was ready to go lower just yet. So to make up for it, as she
went back up to kissing him on his mouth, she put a hand on his
chest for stability, and took his cock in the other. She began
to stroke it slowly, up and down, occasionally massaging the head
with her thumb. After stroking him a little faster, and with a
bit more pressure, she noticed that his needs and excitement
level was rising and becoming even more apparent. While watching
him, she came to realize that he wasn't the only one who wanted
this to happen really bad.
Abruptly, knowing she had just pulled off quite a bath tub
tease session, she stood up.
"Come on," she said, grabbed his hands and pulled him to his
feet.
She wrapped her arms around him once more and kissed him for
a few moments, allowing them to drip dry, not really caring about
fully drying off. She stepped out of the tub, beckoning him to
follow. Grabbing his hands, almost pulling in urgency, she
led him to the one room she wanted her first experience to happen
in--her bedroom.
Together they pulled the covers back, then climbed on the
large bed. both on their sides, facing each other, reaching down
to pull the covers back up, he was aware of both the smell of her
sex, and the smell of the perfumed bathwater as it still dampened
her skin. He had to have some of that. He kissed her neck, then
started moving down, stopping to bury his face between her
breasts--his tongue licking, his lips fluttering, his teeth
grazing her smooth warm skin.
A knee against her quickly became wet, betraying her state
of arousal, and he quickly pushed her onto her back. Kissing her
soft belly now, a finger began to trace her mound, circling
around it's moist, hot, center. He dipped his finger in, found
her lips to be soft, full, and very very ready. that was it. He
had to taste, not just his finger which he quickly licked clean
with a grin, but taste her, bury his face in her femininity--go
to the source.
Her full thighs spread to capture his shoulders, he first
kissed one inner thigh then the other, then licked between her
lips, her unique flavor making his cock ache, not to mention his
heart race. He got bolder, licking from her puckered ass to the
top of her slit, flicking his tongue over her clit as soon as he
found it. She could feel her hips starting to sway, could hear
her breathing increase, and he encouraged this by a playful slap
on the butt.
He licked then probed her sopping hairless pussy, soon
switching to probing it with one finger, his tongue concentrating
more on her clit. Excitement overwhelming her she reached down,
grabbing his head, as though she could help him plunge deeper
with his tongue. Her body overruled her initial thoughts and
began to take over, making her hips sway and her back arch.
Muttering his name, almost pleading for him, she knew what
she wanted, and by the looks of his cock, he wanted it too. She
touched his face with her hands, and almost cupping his chin,
urged him back up to her, almost pulling him. He came directly
up to her mouth, kissing her, and allowing her to taste her own
juices.
"I'm ready," she mumbled between kisses, and prepared
herself for what was coming next.
Immediately he was positioned over her. With a silent go
ahead, he entered her. Soft moans came from within her, and she
reached up, clasping on to the bars of her headboard. And in a
slow, gentle, yet consistent motion, he began to pump his cock in
and out of her. Her heart racing, instinct was taking over and
she was moving in time with him. Although there wasn't any real
pain, she had a sense of fulfilment and ecstasy that she couldn't
have ever felt 'playing' alone.
Breathing heavy, yet rapid, she asked him to go faster. He
did, and the sweat between his chest and her breasts began to
collect, making things delightfully slippery there too. His
senses heightened, he once again became aware of sounds in the
room--the squeaking of the bed, her fast and somewhat ragged
breathing, and the wet slapping sound of their fucking. She
tensed suddenly, her breath caught then released itself in a
louder moan. Her legs rapped around him, trying to pull him
further in.
Knowing she wouldn't take much more without cumming, he
picked up the pace to a frantic level, almost losing any sense of
rhythm in his haste to put them both over the top. She came with
a yell only a few seconds later, and as her pussy began to wetly
contract around his cock, squeezing it, milking it, he unloaded
in her with a grunted "Oh fuck!" As just about every muscle in
his body tensed, he came, fully buried in her smooth, grasping
pussy, and collapsed on her, panting hot breath on her neck then
kissing her.
They lay there for awhile, her arms and legs wrapped around
him, his cock shrinking but still inside her, just enjoying the
moment. The fact that they were both disease-free allowed them
to enjoy full contact, his semi-hard cock luxuriating in her warm
depths. "Thank god for the pill," he thought. Exhausted they
didn't move right away. Immediately her mind was flooded with
thoughts. One being why had she waited so long, and another
contradicting that very thought by being happy she waited for
this very person.
She began to chuckle. At that point he rolled off, and out
of her.
"That was good," she chuckled, her bubbliness back again,
but not doing anything but staring up at the ceiling.
Reaching over and clasping his hand she stated in all
seriousness, "No regrets."
"Good, I'm glad," he said with a smile, and they kissed once
again.
She turned onto her side, laid her head on his upper chest,
and draped an arm around his waist. Leaning over, kissing her
forehead, he put an arm around her shoulders. Both, completely
satisfied at how this evening progressed, decided to rest. And
in each others arms, they slept.
--
_________________________________________________________________
http://www.braille.uwo.ca/files/Authors/Chris/wwws - "Music is your own thoughts, your
experience, your wisdom. If you don't live it, it won't come out in your
horn."(Charlie Parker)
--
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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