SHE SAT ALONE by Terri
She sat alone in the dim room, mildly uncomfortable with both the surroundings and her nudity. She had been to these 'swingers? parties? before, had had sex at them, rather satisfying sex, at times. Although she had undressed, so far that night she hadn't accepted any offers. No one had really piqued her interest. Around her faceless couples and trios made love, passionately screwed, or bluntly fucked. She brushed her dirty-blonde hair away from her eyes and sighed as she let her gaze wander the velvet draped room. She wished she had a cigarette. She wished she smoked.
She noticed him at first from a distance, probably for no more cryptic a reason than he was the tallest man in the room.
He walked through the crowd, not as though he were not nude, but as though it did not matter. Some people were naked, some lewdly so, some borderline embarrassed. He was nude.
Once, he had probably been chiseled and lean. She could still see the masses of muscle bunch and flex as he moved. Age had softened the edges, and given him an appearance of solidity over the spare frame, an appearance of strength beyond that of the thin distance runner he might once have been. He smiled occasionally at the people he passed on his way across the room. He made his way through them, ever toward her, but unhurried.
Their eyes met. She felt a thrill run through her. He was tall, and more tanned than she, but not truly dark; she could plainly see the remnants of his farmer's tan. His smile was infectious, like that of a boy being caught at being naughty, and far from being repentant. As he stood before her, she sat up a little straighter and felt her breasts jut out, the nipples hardening. The velvet-covered bench upon which she sat was attached to the wall, a practical piece of furniture in this place. It was high enough from the floor that as he stood between her knees, their faces were almost exactly at the level they would have been had they both been standing.
Softly sliding his hands up her arms, he took her shoulders in his hands and squeezed them, massaging the muscles, and broke one of her personal rules. He kissed her. She seldom kissed while at one of these affairs. The sex was very satisfying usually, but mostly detached. Kissing made it too personal. This was a good kiss. He kissed her as though drinking her, taking long slow draughts, their lips and tongues exploring each other's mouths. His hands never remained still, they massaged and caressed as he kissed her, slowly working his way down her body. His mouth attached itself to her neck, the lobe of her ear, the hollow of her throat, as his hands gently yet powerfully continued their pleasure giving explorations.
She meant to say, ?Hey, Buddy, it's impolite to just walk up and?? but when his lips closed over her left nipple, she only gasped. His hands clasped her above her hips and below her ribs and he devoured her breasts, relishing them, ravishing them, his hands still refusing to remain still. She felt her own hands grasp his shoulders, pulling him closer, the smooth skin of her legs sliding against his body. His mouth slid down her body, his lips and tongue trailing wet, sucking kisses between her breasts and down her abdomen He flicked his tongue over her, tasting her, teasing her. Almost abruptly he slid his hands under her legs and raised them, forcing her back against the wall.
He knelt between her legs, the kisses trailing down until he swirled his tongue in her hair. He paused and inhaled deeply, taking in her scent. She felt the flow of her liquid response betray her. His tongue slid slowly down the inside of her thigh as he savored her, pausing to plant those soft, sucking kisses randomly on her skin. His hands slid softly, distracting her maddeningly as his mouth teased her. The feel of his hot breath against the soft wetness of her sex startled her.
?Oh, hey,? she gasped.
He kissed her, gently, almost timidly at first, and then full on, almost exactly as he had kissed her before. His tongued probed her sex as it had her mouth; sucking, kissing, nibbling, pulling. She felt him place his open mouth over her, gently suctioning her in, as though he wanted all of her, her labia, her clit, her mound, all of her in his mouth at once. The suction grew stronger; a gentle tugging at all of her pussy, as his head began to move up and down, applying pressure to her through the tugging.
Her orgasm took her by surprise, and she cried out. He shook her, focusing his lips on her clit as she came, as though he would pull the orgasm out of her with his mouth. Eventually, he relented, and let her breath.
He stood, rising between her legs and she noted the return of the mischievous smile.
?That was?? she began.
?Hush,? he whispered. He kissed her again, deeply, and she felt the tip of his sex nest against her hair. Another thrill passed through her. His arms encircled her, lifting her, her shoulders resting against the cloth-covered wall. She could feel the head of his cock pressing against her labia, and she wanted him inside her. As the head passed the outer lips, she felt the familiar push as though her genitals were reaching for him of their own accord, her flower opening to him, trying to pull him in. He held her above it, allowing only the head in as he kissed her so deeply she thought she might orgasm again.
He began a gentle rocking motion, easing just the head in and out, never quite all the way. Eventually she realized he was entering her, but slowly, so slowly, perhaps an eighth of an inch at a time. It was good, very good, but her need grew like a building fire. She whimpered, and then hissed at him.
?I? I can't stand this? we? you have to??
?Shhh?? he whispered. ?We have to go slow; you've just had an orgasm. You're too sensitive right now for more than this teasing. But give it a minute?? That damned grin was back. She wanted to slap him, to twist his ear off, to do whatever it took to make him fuck her and fuck her now, damn it. She struggled, half smiling and half desperate, trying to force him to give her more.
He entered her a bit deeper. In the dimly lit room, in the heat of the moment, she couldn't tell exact inches, and it didn't matter. She came. He held her and laughed quietly, then laughed again as she laughed and called him a bastard. He kissed her deeply.
She found herself rocking back and forth, trying to get more of him inside her. She wanted to feel him pressed against her, the full length of him surrounded by her. He began to match her movements, gently sawing in and out, but only with the length she had already received.
?Oh, god,? she whispered, ?I can't again? how many times?? Her words were cut off as her kissed her, hard, almost brutally. She felt as though her orgasm were ripped from her, as though it were purely involuntary.
She felt, for the first time in a long time, out of control.
They assumed a rhythm that was not quite gentle. Had she been asked, she would have thought by this point the urgency would have gone out of it, for her, at least. But something about the way the bastard held something back, no matter what he did, the way he kept teasing her the whole time he as satisfying her, left her wanting more. They kissed, they caressed, they drove into each other with an energy that seemed to feed on itself, to burn hotter the longer it flamed.
Finally he was in her completely. She felt the bone of his pelvis against her mound and knew he was fully inside her. Perhaps it was the unaccustomed depth, perhaps it was the width of him, perhaps it was the pressure against her clit, perhaps it was knowing she finally had him all; whatever it was, she cried out as she came, wrapping her legs around him violently, clawing, biting his shoulder as the room spun and she saw yellow-white flashes of light behind her tightly clenched eyelids. She wrapped every part of her she could as tightly around him as she could, and attempted to crush him, to take him inside her completely as she felt the pulsing of his orgasm entering her.
When she could see again, he was gently kissing her tear-streaked cheeks.
?I? what the hell was that??
?Knuckle ball,? he laughed quietly.
?Knuckle? do what?? She hadn't noticed, hadn't had time to notice, really, what a strange shade of blue-grey his eyes were.
?Baseball. When a pitcher is young, he throws the fastball, and that's his thing. As he ages, he loses his fastball, so he learns to throw a curve, a slider??
?A knuckleball. I get it. So you're saying that a younger guy??
?A younger guy could walk up here, do you, and be ready to do you again in five minutes. Hey, young is good; nothing's wrong with a one-trick-pony if the trick is good. But a little experience does bring a little something extra to the encounter, doesn't it?? He kissed her. Again with the deep fuckin? kisses, she thought, is this guy a hopeless romantic or what? I am in real danger of liking this asshole.
They talked about nothing for a few minutes, and before they parted company, she broke another of her self-imposed taboos. She had exchanged names and numbers with him. They didn't set a date to meet again, but both said they would like to explore further. They kissed [again] and said good night.
On the way out to her car, as she ran her hands through her hair, a silly song kept running through her mind, making her laugh out loud.
?Take me out to the ball game?
?Take me out to the park??
She sat alone in the dim room, mildly uncomfortable with both the surroundings and her nudity. She had been to these 'swingers? parties? before, had had sex at them, rather satisfying sex, at times. Although she had undressed, so far that night she hadn't accepted any offers. No one had really piqued her interest. Around her faceless couples and trios made love, passionately screwed, or bluntly fucked. She brushed her dirty-blonde hair away from her eyes and sighed as she let her gaze wander the velvet draped room. She wished she had a cigarette. She wished she smoked.
She noticed him at first from a distance, probably for no more cryptic a reason than he was the tallest man in the room.
He walked through the crowd, not as though he were not nude, but as though it did not matter. Some people were naked, some lewdly so, some borderline embarrassed. He was nude.
Once, he had probably been chiseled and lean. She could still see the masses of muscle bunch and flex as he moved. Age had softened the edges, and given him an appearance of solidity over the spare frame, an appearance of strength beyond that of the thin distance runner he might once have been. He smiled occasionally at the people he passed on his way across the room. He made his way through them, ever toward her, but unhurried.
Their eyes met. She felt a thrill run through her. He was tall, and more tanned than she, but not truly dark; she could plainly see the remnants of his farmer's tan. His smile was infectious, like that of a boy being caught at being naughty, and far from being repentant. As he stood before her, she sat up a little straighter and felt her breasts jut out, the nipples hardening. The velvet-covered bench upon which she sat was attached to the wall, a practical piece of furniture in this place. It was high enough from the floor that as he stood between her knees, their faces were almost exactly at the level they would have been had they both been standing.
Softly sliding his hands up her arms, he took her shoulders in his hands and squeezed them, massaging the muscles, and broke one of her personal rules. He kissed her. She seldom kissed while at one of these affairs. The sex was very satisfying usually, but mostly detached. Kissing made it too personal. This was a good kiss. He kissed her as though drinking her, taking long slow draughts, their lips and tongues exploring each other's mouths. His hands never remained still, they massaged and caressed as he kissed her, slowly working his way down her body. His mouth attached itself to her neck, the lobe of her ear, the hollow of her throat, as his hands gently yet powerfully continued their pleasure giving explorations.
She meant to say, ?Hey, Buddy, it's impolite to just walk up and?? but when his lips closed over her left nipple, she only gasped. His hands clasped her above her hips and below her ribs and he devoured her breasts, relishing them, ravishing them, his hands still refusing to remain still. She felt her own hands grasp his shoulders, pulling him closer, the smooth skin of her legs sliding against his body. His mouth slid down her body, his lips and tongue trailing wet, sucking kisses between her breasts and down her abdomen He flicked his tongue over her, tasting her, teasing her. Almost abruptly he slid his hands under her legs and raised them, forcing her back against the wall.
He knelt between her legs, the kisses trailing down until he swirled his tongue in her hair. He paused and inhaled deeply, taking in her scent. She felt the flow of her liquid response betray her. His tongue slid slowly down the inside of her thigh as he savored her, pausing to plant those soft, sucking kisses randomly on her skin. His hands slid softly, distracting her maddeningly as his mouth teased her. The feel of his hot breath against the soft wetness of her sex startled her.
?Oh, hey,? she gasped.
He kissed her, gently, almost timidly at first, and then full on, almost exactly as he had kissed her before. His tongued probed her sex as it had her mouth; sucking, kissing, nibbling, pulling. She felt him place his open mouth over her, gently suctioning her in, as though he wanted all of her, her labia, her clit, her mound, all of her in his mouth at once. The suction grew stronger; a gentle tugging at all of her pussy, as his head began to move up and down, applying pressure to her through the tugging.
Her orgasm took her by surprise, and she cried out. He shook her, focusing his lips on her clit as she came, as though he would pull the orgasm out of her with his mouth. Eventually, he relented, and let her breath.
He stood, rising between her legs and she noted the return of the mischievous smile.
?That was?? she began.
?Hush,? he whispered. He kissed her again, deeply, and she felt the tip of his sex nest against her hair. Another thrill passed through her. His arms encircled her, lifting her, her shoulders resting against the cloth-covered wall. She could feel the head of his cock pressing against her labia, and she wanted him inside her. As the head passed the outer lips, she felt the familiar push as though her genitals were reaching for him of their own accord, her flower opening to him, trying to pull him in. He held her above it, allowing only the head in as he kissed her so deeply she thought she might orgasm again.
He began a gentle rocking motion, easing just the head in and out, never quite all the way. Eventually she realized he was entering her, but slowly, so slowly, perhaps an eighth of an inch at a time. It was good, very good, but her need grew like a building fire. She whimpered, and then hissed at him.
?I? I can't stand this? we? you have to??
?Shhh?? he whispered. ?We have to go slow; you've just had an orgasm. You're too sensitive right now for more than this teasing. But give it a minute?? That damned grin was back. She wanted to slap him, to twist his ear off, to do whatever it took to make him fuck her and fuck her now, damn it. She struggled, half smiling and half desperate, trying to force him to give her more.
He entered her a bit deeper. In the dimly lit room, in the heat of the moment, she couldn't tell exact inches, and it didn't matter. She came. He held her and laughed quietly, then laughed again as she laughed and called him a bastard. He kissed her deeply.
She found herself rocking back and forth, trying to get more of him inside her. She wanted to feel him pressed against her, the full length of him surrounded by her. He began to match her movements, gently sawing in and out, but only with the length she had already received.
?Oh, god,? she whispered, ?I can't again? how many times?? Her words were cut off as her kissed her, hard, almost brutally. She felt as though her orgasm were ripped from her, as though it were purely involuntary.
She felt, for the first time in a long time, out of control.
They assumed a rhythm that was not quite gentle. Had she been asked, she would have thought by this point the urgency would have gone out of it, for her, at least. But something about the way the bastard held something back, no matter what he did, the way he kept teasing her the whole time he as satisfying her, left her wanting more. They kissed, they caressed, they drove into each other with an energy that seemed to feed on itself, to burn hotter the longer it flamed.
Finally he was in her completely. She felt the bone of his pelvis against her mound and knew he was fully inside her. Perhaps it was the unaccustomed depth, perhaps it was the width of him, perhaps it was the pressure against her clit, perhaps it was knowing she finally had him all; whatever it was, she cried out as she came, wrapping her legs around him violently, clawing, biting his shoulder as the room spun and she saw yellow-white flashes of light behind her tightly clenched eyelids. She wrapped every part of her she could as tightly around him as she could, and attempted to crush him, to take him inside her completely as she felt the pulsing of his orgasm entering her.
When she could see again, he was gently kissing her tear-streaked cheeks.
?I? what the hell was that??
?Knuckle ball,? he laughed quietly.
?Knuckle? do what?? She hadn't noticed, hadn't had time to notice, really, what a strange shade of blue-grey his eyes were.
?Baseball. When a pitcher is young, he throws the fastball, and that's his thing. As he ages, he loses his fastball, so he learns to throw a curve, a slider??
?A knuckleball. I get it. So you're saying that a younger guy??
?A younger guy could walk up here, do you, and be ready to do you again in five minutes. Hey, young is good; nothing's wrong with a one-trick-pony if the trick is good. But a little experience does bring a little something extra to the encounter, doesn't it?? He kissed her. Again with the deep fuckin? kisses, she thought, is this guy a hopeless romantic or what? I am in real danger of liking this asshole.
They talked about nothing for a few minutes, and before they parted company, she broke another of her self-imposed taboos. She had exchanged names and numbers with him. They didn't set a date to meet again, but both said they would like to explore further. They kissed [again] and said good night.
On the way out to her car, as she ran her hands through her hair, a silly song kept running through her mind, making her laugh out loud.
?Take me out to the ball game?
?Take me out to the park??
