0 comments/ 64789 views/ 2 favorites A Case of Natural Chemistry By: James Cody College life had been good to me. Now in my second year, after a titillating affair with a beautiful mature lady in my first year - she taught me in so many ways the nature of woman - I was now surrounded by them.. Most were in their twenties; all of them were extremely intelligent; and some of them actually enjoyed my company. The truth was that I was studying to be a teacher, and in that year most of the other students were female. Now, I wasn't the only guy in class. Most were taken. Some were single. But I felt like there were enough fish in the sea to satisfy even the most finicky of fishermen. The class I was now sitting in dealt with pedagogy and psychology (this is the last time I'll use any -ogy terms for a while: I hate'em!). I had turned on the charm from the moment I went to my desk. So there I was: a black turtleneck shirt - sleeves rolled up to my elbows, of course - black cotton slacks, and sandals. No socks, however. My hair was shaved to within a fraction of an inch, and I had a thick, though trimmed, goatee. I scanned the other people in the class, looking for a spark of interest - I had achieved a certain notoriety as a somewhat prolific writer in the English faculty the year before,. I also had something of a feud going on with another writer, but that's a story for another time. As the class bore on, I realized I was a square peg back at square one. Any newfound confidence I had as a "lady's man" was all in my head, not in my pants. Or maybe it was the other way around. Anyway, it doesn't really matter. All that mattered was that I could only attract a meager glance from the people in the classroom. I suddenly dawned on me that I was just another face in the education crowd. I suddenly felt very self-conscious: the only person dressed in black, the only guy with facial hair. My turtleneck felt way to tight and I wondered if any odors were escaping from between my toes. I was sure that I came across as some intellectual wannabe who might - or might not - have a toe lint problem. So I kept quiet and to myself as the professor ranted about the how the most difficult thing teens had to deal with was building their self-esteem. When she asked the class about their own teenage self-esteem problems, I wanted to scream that the problems exist even past adolescence. But I found that I would have time to explore my own insecurities - past and present - as self-esteem, and other teenage angst, would become the subject of the course's term paper. "All right people," the teacher said. Her name was Ms. Ronofsky, Ph.D. And despite the fact that she looked so old as to have known the Galapagos tortoises when they were young, her voice seemed powerful enough to drown out a Limp Bizkit concert. "I want you to team up in pairs. After that, I'll pass out to each team a unique case study. Your job is to summarize it, analyze it, find at least two solutions, and write up a scenario for each on how you believe it would play out. You'll find a bibliography of at least ten volumes with each case. And don't worry, we'll be tackling the different aspects of the project as the semester progresses." Yay, I thought. Even before Ms. Ronofsky had finished giving her instructions, the class was already breaking up into teams. I stood up, kept my hands on my desk, and scanned the room for any lonely souls like mine. After about a minute, I finally noticed a slightly bobbing head right next to me. As she waved up at me, I knew my face was about as red as if I had bobbed for apples in a basin of no-name ketchup. "Hi," she said, taking a bite from an apple. "Are you looking for a partner?" "Uh, yeah. Have you been standing there for long? Because if you have, I'm really sorry." She laughed and tossed her shoulder length brown hair to one side. "That's okay. I'm used to it by now. I'm Karen." "Jason. So, I guess you're stranded like I am?" "Mm- I'm the only person here from the History program. I don't know anybody, and they all seem to know each other." "I'm in the same boat. An English lit. major, and there's not a short story in sight." Right then, she furrowed her brows, put her books and her apple on my desk and her hands on her hips. "Don't tell me that's a crack about my height." I paused and looked her up and down. I hadn't noticed, but she was about 5 feet tall at the most. She wore a plaid skirt that stopped about an inch above her knees, and an oversized sweatshirt with a zipper down the front and her faculty logo on its front. The shirt was so large that I couldn't tell anything about what was going on beneath it. "It's not." She gave the same up and down look, smiled and took one last crunch from her apple. "Good. So are we partners?" "That works for me." And with that, I hoisted my desk over to hers and we got our case study. We both stared at it and sulked: It must have had over 100 photocopied pages. I hadn't noticed that our desk benches opened on opposite sides - when I put them together the openings faced each other; as we both got up to pick up the pages, our heads bumped together, our glasses clinked together, and while I fell on my seat, she fell on my lap. I slipped an arm around her shoulders to steady her, and I got a wonderful whiff of her very subtle perfume. I also got to look deeply in her eyes: they were this wonderful gray color that seemed almost to shimmer like a kaleidoscope. Even she paused for a second to examine my features more closely. I noticed one of her eyebrows going up before she braced herself on my thigh and my shoulder to slide back in to her seat. While she did so, her ass passed over my crotch and I'm sure she slowed down enough to get the feel for the action that was going down in there. And with the way she slid her chest - which felt ample and firm -- against mine before regaining her seat completely, I had a kegger going on in my pants. "Sorry," she whispered in my ear. "I can be a klutz. Sometimes." "My fault," I whispered back. I could feel my face blush and my heartbeat grow quicker, and I was pretty sure she noticed my breathing getting quicker as well. "I'll just move my desk to the other side and we won't have that problem again." "Don't," she said, putting her arm on mine. "The class is nearly over anyway … and it wasn't that much of a problem." So we spent the last fifteen minutes going through the pages, our legs pressed together and our heads close enough to tell what we had for breakfast and lunch. Once in awhile I lifted my head and looked around the classroom, only to see the other students - even the teacher - give us disapproving, sometimes envious, glances. When the class was finally over, we pushed our desks aside before getting up and left the room. She got out before I did and was waiting by the lockers that lined the corridor while I gave Ms. Ronofsky the cash for the photocopies; Karen had already paid for hers. When I slipped my head into the hallway, Karen was leaning up against a locker, listening to a guy who was leaning next to her in "hit-on" mode. When she saw me, she moved around him and headed my way. I left the classroom, my book satchel by my side, and waited for her to go to the other side. As she slid next to me, I noticed she had pulled the zipper of her sweatshirt partly down, exposing a nice expanse of lightly tanned, soft-looking skin. As we walked away, we passed the guy that was hitting on her; when we got close enough, she said: "Let's give them something to talk about," and she slipped her arm around mine. "Keep this up," I said, "and people will think we're dating." "Shut up. I just don't want that guy getting to close, y'know?" "Sure. But it's okay if it's me? Isn't that discrimination?" "You're my partner. And he had bad breath: smelled like a wet ashtray. And I know you smell good." I suddenly imagined her nuzzling my neck and inhaling deeply while I pulled her shirt zipper all the way down. But the image distracted me and I hadn't realized she'd stopped. "Earth to Jason," she said while pulling me back. She stood on her toes and knocked on my head. "Anybody in there? I might be a klutz, but you seem kind of ditzy." "I was… just thinking. About tonight." "Yeah, so was I. Listen, I have a class starting in ten minutes, but it finishes by seven. If you want to get together and go over the planning for the project …" "I can't. I live off campus and I have to head back and pick up some books and CDs for my show tonight." "Wait a minute… I thought you sounded familiar. You've got that show on campus radio. Uh… Nighttimes and Rhymes, right?" "Yep. Freaky music and even freakier poems, that's me. But I thought only three people had heard it since it started." "I live on campus. I try to listen to it when it's on." "Now," I said, tilting my head to one side, "I have to question your taste, if not your sanity." "You're not that bad. I actually kind of like the sound of your voice. Anyway, I know where the studio is; I'll drop by near the end of the show, 'round ten. We can at least decide when we'll meet next week." "Cool," I said. And before I could utter another word she was off to her class, casting me one last glance from over her shoulder. I stood there, scratching my head, anxious and excited about what might happen tonight. I definitely felt some chemistry between us, and the way we seemed to get along naturally - it was like we knew each other. But before I could think more about it, my watch beeped. I was going to be late for the bus to get back to my apartment. Yikes! I finally arrived to the cramped radio studio: a small work table with two computers, two CD players to one side with the volume controls and the microphone controls on the other, the person who was there before me had already left, leaving a cheap dance compilation on the air. I had about two minutes to air; I rushed to cue my intro, and placed an Alan Parsons Project CD (Tales of Mystery and Imagining, cued to The Raven) in the second CD tray. I managed to hit the play buttons, fade out the volume on the first CD, and fade in my inro with only seconds to spare. After 15 seconds of cheesy macabre music, I played The Raven, and reviewed my playlist for the evening. 30 tracks to play in two and half hours, and 7 different subjects to plug. Time passed on quietly. This was going to be a very boring night if Karen didn't keep her word. I was a bit anxious at the thought of her showing up, though. I didn't have time to change when I got home… I merely put on a pair of shoes and brushed my teeth; so I hoped she wouldn't be disappointed if she saw me wearing the same clothing as in class. When there was only fifteen minutes on the clock and Black Sabbath's war pigs was winding down, there was a knock at the studio door. I rushed up, holding a sandwich I'd bought from a nearby vending machine and opened the door. It was Karen. She strolled past me and took the seat next to mine. I took the other and cued another Sabbath song. "I didn't think you were going to show," I said while munching on the rest of my sandwich. But I suddenly stopped chewing as I realized that my partner had morphed into a vixen. She turned her seat, displaying a wonderfully shaped set of toned legs that must have been forged by hours of gymnastics. They flowed from under a lovely black loose skirt that ended half-way down her thighs. As she crossed her legs, the skirt slowly ran away to expose more flesh. "Oh, I wasn't going to miss this," she said with a fiendish grin. She raised her arms and crossed her hands behind her neck and rested her head in her palms; her pale gray wind-breaker spread apart to display a lovely red wrap around mid-drift shirt. Staring in her eyes, I let my vision follow the natural contours of her neck to what I had been dreaming about a few hours earlier: for Karen's petite size, her tits were huge, proudly displayed by her cleavage bearing shirt. I slid down her lovely crack to discover a sweet looking bellybutton crowned by a lovely ring sporting a glistening black pearl. Opposite to it was a small tattoo of the planet Saturn. I quietly pondered her tummy and the lifeforms that must have inhabited her Saturn when she leaned over to knock on my head. "Hello? I think your song's about finished." "Mm? Oh! Damn!" I darted over to the console as I realized there must have been dead air for about a minute - the time I had been drinking in the vision of my lab partner-cum-babe. I slipped the earphones on and raised the main microphone volume. "Sorry about that folks! I got… distracted by someone that just came into the studio." I glanced over at Karen; she had crossed her arms and tilted her head to one side. Was there a hint of challenge in that beautiful face of hers? "You see, my children of the night," I melodramatically hissed, "I have the pleasure of the company of Karen, a new disciple to my nighttime rhymes." Karen glared at me; her lips were pursed while she contemplated her response to my challenge. Pulling the microphone to her side, she slipped on the other pair of earphones. "Well," she started, her eyes intensely focused on mine, "Jason's right. I am a disciple. But I'm here to give the people something to talk about." Karen leaned back in her seat and took a loooong breath. "Mmm… Jason, you naughty boy. You want to lick every inch of my skin? You want to slowly undress me here? In the studio?" I wasn't sure where Karen was going with this, but the sound of her voice coming through the earphones, and the way she let her little finger dangle next to her lips as she spoke ensured that there was no way I was going to stop her. "What?" she asked. "You want to know if my tits are big? Well look. See. They're big enough for you to play with all night. "You know, I'd even lay down for you, right here, right now. On this floor. You could pull your pants off and show me that big cock of yours. Ohh… it is big. What? You want to tit fuck me? You want me top press them together like this while you move? You want me to lick the tip of your dick when it's near my mouth? "Yeah. That'd be good Jason, wouldn't it? Wait? You want me to wait. First, you want me to sit here, right here. Then what? "Oh, you're pushing my skirt up past my little black panties. Can you smell it? My wetness? That's because of you. You make me wet, so wet. Why are you putting your nose there? You're smelling my pussy. Nuzzling up against it. I feel your mouth touching my cunt lips. You're moving them so slowly… Are you talking to them? Singing? No, you're just teasing them through my panties. "Now you're tearing them off! You're licking me so good… Yes, that's it. Suck my fleshy little cherry. Don't tease me like that, make me come! Now, do it! Suck it! Kiss it! Lick it! "Yes! Yes! Yes! Don't stop! YES! OOOOOOOHHHHHHH!" And then, she suddenly stopped. Karen slid the microphone back in front of me. I was sure my face was pulsating between pale fear and red desire; my hands had dug so tightly into the sides of my chair that I realized they were cramping up. When she saw that I could only breathe heavily in to microphone, she took it back. "Since it's already past ten, I think this pretty much ends the show for tonight. Make sure you listen next time for the second installment of our little porno-drama." Regaining some of my senses, I reached over for the mike. "I don't know if I'm going to be here next week, Karen. I may need a week off to recover… Until then, goodnight everyone." I switched the microphone off and we were off the air. "So," she said, putting her hands on her belly . "Do you like my tattoo?" "Don't change the subject. What the Hell was that?" "What? Oh. I just thought I could liven your show up a bit." "By simulating us having sex?" "Yup." "Interesting concept. I've gotta admit, it was amazing to listen to you. But I think you might have cost me my show." But even having said that, I realized it was a small price to pay for the spectacle I witnessed. I grinned. "But since your here, that means only 2 people heard the show tonight. I should be safe." "Not really, I told my friends in my dorm to listen tonight." "You set me up?" "No. But the way you were looking at me - I liked it. I thought I'd give you a treat." "Okay. Now what? I think it's a little late to talk about our project." "I want to dance." "Where? At the Blue Zone." "To start. I want to dance with you. I like you, Jason. I feel I can be myself around you." "I… like you too. So, shall we go?" "But of course, sir." And so we left the studio and headed to the Blue Zone, the local campus bar. It actually had a pretty good dance floor and they played decent music. The path that lead there circled and went through the park that separated the buildings on campus. The Zone was in the basement of the music faculty. As we walked, we remained quiet. I closed my eyes sometimes to listen to the wind blow through the leaves while inhaling Karen's presence. I had the feeling that tonight was going to be memorable. When I looked over at Karen, she had her eyes turned towards the night sky. It was incredibly clear outside, and warm. Since some of the areas of the park weren't lighted, you could make out a whole tapestry of stars. I figured that's where Karen got the idea for her Saturn tattoo. She slipped her arm around mine, and I closed my eyes again. Then I hit a root sticking out of the trail and almost fell flat on my face. Karen held me steady as I regained my footing and we burst out laughing. By the time we'd giggled each other out we were at the Blue Zone. Inside, the thumping of bass driven techno drew us in with hypnotic rhythms and undulating vocals that swam across our bodies. I stood at the entrance, drinking in the flashing neon lights as they caressed a room full of dancers entranced by their own movements. Although it was early, the place was packed with a swarm of bodies dedicated to the language of sweat and dance. Karen winked at me and merged with the music and surrendered herself to the dancefloor. As I walked around the room, sometimes saying hi to an acquaintance, scanning for a free table, moving around a huddled couple or a group of friends, I'd cast an eye to the side and catch sight of Karen, smiling in my direction before veering off. When I finally found a place to sit -- a high table with two stools near the edge of the dance floor - a gray jacket came flying in my direction as Karen shed it between dance moves. She stopped near the table and signaled me to join her. I was hesitant; I didn't think I could keep up with her energy and grace. I just winked while she gave me a pout. She danced away, I admired how she could let herself go and be swept away by the impulses of the body. It was hard to believe that this was the same woman who, in class, was wearing a plaid skirt and a sweatshirt; but then, I started to think about the way she lingered near me as we read, and the way she seemed to enjoy causing a stir by slipping her arm around mine when some guy hit on her… I thought it was time for me to give people something to talk about. So, I stepped onto the dancefloor, and I was immediately swept up by a tide of sweaty bodies. I could feel the vibration of the music through the skin of each person I came in contact with. It was like a strange, intimate connection established by the web of beats and rhythms. I felt that each thread of music was and individual link to each person who danced. I simply followed Karen's thread: a slow, sensual beat that reverberated with my heartbeat. It wasn't long before I found her; she was dancing with another woman, a statuesque redhead dressed in a sheer white bodysuit. But I wasn't sure about the color as it reflected the neon lights; what I was sure of was that she didn't appear to have anything underneath. But I quickly returned to Karen. She was jumping in place and swiveling her hips in erotically exaggerated circles while holding hands with the redhead. Sometimes, their bodies were so close that they smiled as their breasts brushed up against one another. Watching them, I came to understand my fascination with seeing two women make love together. A Case of Natural Chemistry I stood there, motionless, almost lost in what little shadows there were because of my dark clothes. When Karen noticed me, her eyes sparkled and a sly smile appeared. She moved away from the redheaded beauty, giving me room to slip in between them. I started the sway my hips to the music, seeking to match the rhythms that drew our bodies closer. While we danced, Karen turned me in the redhead's direction. She then pressed her petite body against mine; her tits pushed deep into my back. Although the music was fast, I moved slowly so I could feel her warmth through my clothing; her nipples were so hard that I felt they would tear my jacket to shreds. Karen slipped her arms under mine and moved her hands up and down my chest. As if on cue, the redhead moved closer and pressed herself against me from the front and put her cheek next to mine. I started to thrust my hips back in forth and then in circles to see if Karen and this stranger would shy away - they didn't. And so we moved there, as one. The feeling of their four nipples drove me crazy with desire as my pants grew tighter and tighter. But after a minute or so of humping on the dancefloor, the redhead pulled back just far enough to whisper in my ear. "I heard you on the radio, tonight," she said. "I heard how you made Karen come. Maybe you can do it for me someday. But tonight… tonight your hers." She retreated back into the crowd, and I slowly turned towards Karen. She hooked her arms around my neck and rested her head on my chest. I groaned as she mashed her pelvis into mine. From the sweat running down our bodies and drenching our clothes, we must have been dancing with our bodies clenched tightly together for an hour or more. As fatigue finally got the better of us, we sat at the table I'd found at the beginning of the evening. Around us, others did the same, huddling close to share intimacies, or lies. Karen ordered two glasses of water and we sat silently with our heads pressed together. "This isn't what I'd bargained for when I agreed to work with you," I whispered loudly into her ear over the ever pounding music. "But I can't say I'm disappointed." "I know what you mean. When I saw you in class, there was something about you that made me feel comfortable." "Yeah - it was the Spark. It doesn't happen often, but when it does you can't hold back." And suddenly, I lifted her chin and kissed her. Our lips parted lightly so that our tongues lingered together without really touching. I felt her shiver as I held her face. "What time is it?" I asked. "It's almost midnight." "It's kind of late." "MM-mm." "I don't want this to end yet. Not yet." "No. Not yet." I ran my fingers in her hair. "Can we go back to your room?" "No, my roommate is in and I promised I'd be quiet if I came in late. There's just no way in hell that I'm going to be quiet tonight. But I have a car. It's an '89 Rx-7 convertible. We could take a ride." "We could ride back to my apartment." "Do you drive a stick shift?" "Yes." "Good. You drive. I want to see you handle… a stick." Her car was a striking machine: low to the ground, sleek, and so black that it seemed to simultaneously absorb and reflect the parking lot lights. It looked strangely organic and alive. As we slipped into its seats, I noticed the soft leather clinging to our bodies, the slight vibrations that tantalized our flesh as I turned the key, and the sense of immediate power and life as the engine rested in a low, yet nervous idle. Karen let out a little yelp as I slipped the car in reverse and pulled out of her parking spot. With the top down, she decided to fill the night air with some music and reached in to the glove box and pulled out Moby's Songs CD and slipped it in the indash player. I guided the Rx-7 between the uncomfortably tight dorm parking lot until I found the exit that gave on to the street. I looked over at Karen, and she gave me a approving wink before she closed her eyes. Letting the clutch slip only slightly, I gunned the engine and burst from the parking lot to a chorus of dance music and squealing tires. I rowed through the gears, savoring the way the engine bounced off its redline before dropping down a few thousand rpm only to rev freely back up to six thousand. Within a matter of seconds, we were flying down the street at 70 miles per hour. Karen put her hand on my knee as we sank into our seats. We came upon an intersection and I slammed the brakes and downshifted from fourth gear to second. The car decelerated dramatically as I brought it around a left-hand corner; we drifted around the corner while I let the rear slide out before countersteering the slide and bringing the car inline with a lithe touch of the throttle. I took as much enjoyment from the sound of the wheels fighting for traction as from the gasps and shouts of glee coming form Karen. I then took a street that led to the expressway that would cross town and take us to my apartment. I was in fifth gear, doing nearly 90 when we hit the onramp; Karen braced herself against the dash as the car leaned devilishly into the curve, fighting centrifugal force. We hit the expressway and I pushed the car past a hundred miles per hour. I was happy that the police were not out in force tonight as I found myself driving recklessly fueled by my passion and desire for Karen. This was a bit unusual for me; I was always the man who took the safe route, but ever since I laid eyes on her in class this morning, ever since the first lingering moment of contact we shared, something slowly changed in me and I decided to say: What the Fuck! I didn't know if Karen felt the same way, or if this was business as usual for her, but we both seemed to be drunk on the effect we were having on one another. I drove the car towards the exit for my part of town; I heard a light sigh coming from Karen. I looked over at her and she had her hands buried between her thighs. I gulped as she started to bump and grind in her seat while her left hand slipped in to her shirt and her right hand pushed her skirt up past her thighs. Lost in the shadows I could only imagine how she was playing with her cunt lips; was she pushing her panties aside? Was she caressing her pussy through her moist underwear? Was she slipping a finger inside, imagining it was my cock? Was she playing with her clit, hoping to feel the strength of my tongue? As she ran her hand over her body, feeling her face and her hair, was she imagining my lips, my passion, engulfing her? Was I about to drive off the road while I watched some wanton woman get herself off while I drove? I managed to regain my focus and I kept the car on the road while Karen moaned and sighed her orgasm. Finally, I turned on to the exit for my street and I slowed down to the legal limit. While concentrating - difficultly - on making my way to my building, I was constantly distracted by Karen's sighs as she slowly came down from her orgasmic high. Without realizing it, I started to rub my cock through my trousers; my hard-on was just shouting for some attention, but I had to keep my eyes on the road so I ignored its ramblings. I reluctantly put both hands on the wheel, but I still felt a light touch through my trousers. "Poor baby," Karen whispered in my ear. "Is this for me, or my car?" "You'll find out soon enough, trust me," I answered as my hips slowly moved forward with her up and down motions. "Are you gonna cum in your pants if I keep this up?" Her speed increased. "No. But…mmmm! It feels fucking good." But I finally pushed her hand away as I slowed down to enter my building's parking lot. There were no reserved spaces so I parked in a dark corner. The car came to a halt and we got out; I stayed where I was, coolly leaning against the car while Karen crossed around the vehicle. I watched her sway in and out of the shadows, still entranced by her grace and strength. When her face was lit by the moonlight or a stray beam from a street lamp, I caught a glimpse of desire and hunger in her face and in her movements. She stopped in front of me, just an arm reach away, and looked me up and down. The turtle neck was a bit fitted so my shoulders and my chest were clearly defined. A year of upper body training didn't hurt either. Karen put her hands on my shoulders and began to glide them down the length of my arms, lingering on my forearms before going up my abdomen - I didn't have a six-pack, but she smiled as she poked my abs. She then touched my chest; she joined her hands over my heart, feeling its beat before spreading her hands across and sliding them down my thighs to grab a handful of my ass. She was still smiling. Without warning, I scooped her up in my arms and we truly kissed for the first time. The feeling of her warmth next to me was overwhelming as our tongues danced together, seeking the other's taste. Still kissing, I twirled her around so that she could be against the car. She braced her hands on the hood while I leaned over her. "What're you doing?" she asked as I laid on the hood and pulled her ass to the edge. She giggled as I pushed her skirt up and nestled my face in her crotch while resting her legs on my shoulders. I looked up at her. "That gimmick you had back at the studio. I want to do it right now. All night you've been driving me nuts… your smell, the way you move. Karen. I have to taste you now. Here. Outside." I slipped her panties aside and tickled her cunt with my lips. She was still sensitive from having diddled herself in the car. Her moistness was musky and enticing; I let my tongue slip a bit into her slit before I pulled it out slowly. She let out and agonized moan while her hips trembled, seeking more of my hungry mouth. When I started to take long lingering licks of her pussy, starting nearly from the crack of her ass to end with a light pressure on her sensitive clit, she squeezed my head and gasped. I managed to loosen her grip on my head and I concentrated my attention on her little button while slipping a finger back and forth in her pussy. Karen began to buck wildly on the hood, certainly denting it with her bouncing butt. But I didn't stop until she literally let out a scream. I wasn't expecting such and intense orgasm from her and I pulled back. I noticed a reflection and looked over my shoulder. A light or two had just flicked on. "Shit," I muttered with a chuckle. Karen was immobile. I was afraid she'd passed out. "Can you walk?" I asked as I slid her off the car and back to her feet. "Yeah. Slowly. Can you do that again? Please?" "Later. But we'd better get inside before one of my neighbors call the cops." "Was I that loud? I know I can be loud when I come sometimes." "You see that lamp over there," I said while pointing overhead. "I'm pretty sure it was working when we arrived. Now, it looks shattered. I wonder what did that?" Karen laughed and jumped up to kiss me. She must have tasted her pussy juices on my chin as she licked my face clean. I held her in my arms as we walked to the entrance to my building. My apartment was a small thing, more of a large room with a bathroom tacked on. But I had tried to decorate it nicely, with Asian tapestries draping the walls. Karen walked around the place, stopping at each tapestry and observing the landscapes they depicted: mostly mountains and hills and waterfalls. There were Chinese glyphs on each drawing. She felt the material of each as I fetched us some drinks. Since I hoped she was going to spend the night, I handed her a beer. We sat on my futon - which also served as my bed - and drank the beer. "This is good," she commented. "What kind of beer is it?" "Molson Dry. A Canadian brand." "Mmm…" She put her bottle on the floor and did the same for mine. I turned over onto my back while she climbed on top of me and we started to make out. She pulled away when I went to pull her top off. "Not quite yet," she whispered. She rolled off me, landing on her feet and standing up like a cat. She sauntered over to my sound system and started to trifle through my CD collection. When she found one to her liking, she slipped in and the room was suddenly filled with the unmistakable beat of classic Phil Collins from the early eighties. As he sang about the air tonight, Karen started to sway from left to right while running her hands up and down her body. I turned onto my side and rested my head in my hand as she slowly dropped down to her knees before getting back up again. She was pushing her tits together, accentuating her already ample cleavage. When I sat up, she turned her back to me and bent down; observing me from between her legs she flicked her skirt up and gave me a long glance of her toned ass. She ran a finger across the slit of her butt and grinned as she saw me lick my lips and sigh. I stood up and she faced me. She grabbed the side of her wrap around shirt and started to unclasp its hooks. While she did so, I began to sway my hips and do a dance of my own. As I let the beat fill me, I pulled my sweater over my head. For a split second, I feared she might be turned off by the hair on my chest, but she seemed even more excited as she came back into view. I stretched my arms over my head and twirled in place, displaying for her my own little secrets. I had a tattoo of an Egyptian ankh on my chest, next to my heart, and a small tattoo of a dragon eating its own tail on my back. "Wow!" we both exclaimed as she spied my tattoos and I caught a glimpse of her perfectly shaped breasts. They swayed seductively as Karen started to push her skirt and panties down to the ground. I followed suit by unclasping my belt and my pants; I had my back to Karen as the pants fell. I went to pull my boxers off when I felt her rock-hard nipples against my flesh. She wrapped her arms around my waist and pushed my underwear down, feeling and squeezing my thigh muscles. I stepped out of my clothing and turned to her. We looked at each other. Karen was beautiful. A head of shoulder length, brown hair; a glowing face with Mediterranean features; a sleek, elegant neck; strong yet delicate shoulders; full, heavy and firm tits; her small Saturn tattoo; and the tastiest brown bush I could remember laying eyes on. She gave me the same examination, her eyes lingering on my tattoo, and then on my erect nipples. She walked up to me and took my hard cock in her hands and we kissed deeply while she slowly pumped my member. She then pushed me back and I fell on the futon, knocking the beer over. We both looked at the mess and laughed. Karen dropped to her knees while still pumping me. "You want me to taste your big cock, don't you?" she sneered. "You want to feel my hot lips, my tongue, work to make you come. Say it." I remained quiet as she peered at me with a puzzled look on her face. I took her face and pulled her to me while I laid down on the futon. I guided her head down to my cock and moved her hips over my face. "This is the way I want to start, Karen. I eat you. You suck me. And we lick each other to ecstasy." Her only response was a muffled gulp as I slipped into her inviting mouth. I felt her tongue move up and down my shaft as I picked up where I left off with my exploration of her folds. I spread her pussy open and darted my tongue in and out while she cupped my balls and popped them in and out of her lips. "Oh god that's good," I muttered. I stuck a finger in her cunt and pushed my cock in to her mouth. I moved my finger in and out of her cunt and she braced herself on her arms so that I could fuck her mouth while I finger-fucked her pussy. "Ohh! Ohh!" was all she could muster to express her pleasure with her mouth full of my meat. And as she came for the second time of the evening, she continued to suck me greedily until I thought I was about to come. But she felt the initial spasm of my orgasm so she stopped her sucking and sat up and grinded her pussy across my mouth. I reached down to pinch the base of my cock to halt my orgasm while circling Karen's clit. "Jason! Yes Jason! Just like that" she howled as she came again. When she reached her plateau of orgasm she fell on top of me, her head resting next to my erection. She kissed and cuddled it gently while pumping it with the same gently touch. "God, you know how to eat pussy," she commented. "I had a good teacher. And you've got top quality pussy." "And who was this teacher of yours?" "That's another story. Tonight, it's just about you and me." I nudged her aside so I could sit up. We were both covered in sweat and the smell of sex permeated the apartment. I got up and went to the bathroom. I came back with a small wrapper. A condom. "You want to use that?" she asked. "Always." Se took it from my hand as I sat back down. Karen tore the wrapper open and placed the condom on the top of my still hard cock. She slid it down the length. "Eww," she exclaimed as the condom was lubricated. Then she straddled me, ready to lower herself on my pole. "Are you sure you're up to it right now?" I asked. "Oh, yes. I've wanted you to fill me ever since you got your pants off. Your cock's beautiful and I want it. I want to give you the ride of your life." Karen lowered herself on to my shaft slowly, taking the time to savor its length and girth. When I was completely surrounded by her tight warmth, we kissed while I took her luscious tits in my hands. She rotated her pelvis, pushing my erection against every wall inside her while I released her face and made small circles around her nipples. They seemed even longer than before as I pushed her tits together and moved my mouth from one nipple to the other. Caught in pleasure, Karen bounced up and down on my lap while I thrust upwards to make sure I could sink as deeply as I could into her pussy. After a few agonizing minutes of this pleasure, I hugged her to my body in order to slow her pace down. She kissed my forehead when she steadied herself. I held on to her tightly as I stood up and deposited her on the futon. I pushed her legs apart to get a good look at her moist slit before I slid my erection back into her. She closed her eyes and threw her arms over her head while I slowly fucked her with long, deliberate strokes. When I was all the way in, I held her legs together and made small circles with my pelvis. "Ahhh…" she moaned as I fucked her more quickly while continuing my circular motions. I closed my eyes and concentrated on the sounds Karen was making while I shifted between a slow and fast fucking. "Oh good that's good sooooo good, " she let out when I rested my weight on her body. She wrapped her legs around me while I fucked her hard enough to make my balls slap against her ass. I slowed down and went back on my knees. "Do you like doggie style?" I asked between breaths. Karen had a dreamy look on her face when she turned over and got on her hands and knees. When she felt the tip of my cock she leaned back and I slipped in. We both moved wildly as primal desires seemed to be most aroused by this position. Words gave way to grunts and snarls as our minds fell away to be replaced by the purely sexual. It felt like we were burning is some kind of orgasmic heaven. I would fuck her deeply, stay there for and instant, and then move quickly. Karen responded to me by moving her pelvis with mine; it was like we shared our own language based on movement, scent and the squishy sound of our fucking. We moved like that for a time until I felt the first rush of pressure that signaled I was about to reach the point of no return. Karen felt it as well and she stopped moving as I hung on to her. I howled like a wolf as I shot a load so heavy that I thought the condom would burst. I pulled out of Karen and slid, exhausted, to the floor. She rolled onto her back and put a leg on my shoulder. I took her foot and kissed it. I looked over at the microwave oven in the corner and I saw that it was nearly 3 a.m. A Case of Natural Chemistry "Well," I said, massaging Karen's foot. "This was quite a day. I hope you don't have any classes this morning 'cause it's late. Or early, depending on your point of view." "No. But I wish I had a science class." "Why?" "Well, I just finished studying chemistry."