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Undone

By: rhall



"You're a grown woman. You can do this. This is not a hard task." 

The naked woman in the mirror did not agree. Kate tried a new tactic. "There's nothing to be nervous about. She's just a woman, for God's sake."

The naked woman in the mirror looked out at Kate as if Kate was nuts.

"Okay, so there's no such thing as 'just a woman'. And, okay, so this woman is funny, sexy, and different from nearly every other woman you've ever met. But, Jesus, Kathryn, you're not exactly a virgin. Going on a date is nothing new, to you."

The naked woman in the mirror reminded Kate, mentally, that while going on a date was nothing new, going on a date, sober, was new. Kate closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She replayed the events of the morning on her mental recorder, starting with the phone call at half past nine.

"Kate?"

"Sue!"

"I'm calling because... I spoke with Cheryl, this morning."

Kate's stomach had knotted up. At 7 am, Kate had arrived at her usual weekday AA meeting, finding Cheryl sitting all alone without her roommate, which was unusual. When Kate had gotten a cup of coffee and settled in on the folding chair beside the tall blonde, she'd leaned over and whispered, "Where's Sue?"

"Sleeping," Cheryl whispered back, keeping her eyes fixed on the secretary. "How did your 'day out' go, yesterday?"

Kate had flushed from her neck to her ears. "It was fine," she'd whispered. Cheryl turned and looked at Kate. 

"Oh my God. You've really got it bad, don't you? What happened yesterday? I want details." The secretary and two other men glared at them. Kate waited till they looked away and leaned close to Cheryl's ear. 

"Nothing happened. And I mean, nothing. She picked me up at ten, we spent the day together as friends, she dropped me off at 9:30 at night. And Cheryl, I'm telling you, I said a total of five sentences the entire damn day. I was so nervous...." Kate sat back in her chair and looked down at her coffee.

When the meeting was over, Kate and Cheryl stood outside of the episcopal church it was held in, and smoked while Cheryl pressed the issue.

"You like her a lot, don't you?" 

Kate nodded. "More than a lot, Cheryl. God, the woman sends electric ripples through my body and soul. However strange that sounds."

"Doesn't sound strange at all. She likes you, too, baby."

Kate shook her head. "Trust me, she doesn't. A woman can tell these things."

"Yeah, well, your female intuition needs a tune-up. I'm telling you, she thinks you're amazing. And very hot. Which, of course, you are."

"I'm also a newcomer, and I'm eleven years her junior. Trust me, the woman is not looking at me as a potential candidate for romance. She's kept the entire thing as 'just another friend in Recovery.' "

"Stick around Sue for a little while, honey. You will quickly learn what is 'Sue being real', and what is 'Sue acting blase and tough just to protect her heart'. She's a lot more transparent than she thinks she is."

They had left it at that, and Kate had returned home to yawn sleepily and continue her job search on the computer. At 9:30, her phone had rung, whereupon Sue had informed her that she and Cheryl had discussed that morning's conversation.

"Sue..."

"Now, just hold on. Breathe. I'm calling because you're wrong, and Cheryl's right. I do like you, Kate. Very much. Do you know that you're the reason I started going to this meeting?"

"I am?"

"You think I love sobriety enough to get my ass out of bed at 6:30 every weekday morning?" Kate could hear her smile over the phone lines. "I'm not working, right now. Believe me, I'd much rather catch up on my beauty sleep. Durita told me about you, said that I should come and meet you. So I did. I wasn't expecting anything. I knew you were a newcomer, only sober about four months. I was only thinking it would be nice to meet another lesbian in Recovery in the area. Hell, there's only about four of us, and I've already fucked the other three."

Kate burst into laughter. 

"But when I met you... Kate, you take my breath away. You're beautiful, you're warm, you are, hands down, the most loving and gentle person I've ever met. You remind me of an angel. So... I know that you're new. But I would like to take you out, to dinner, or a meeting. Take it slow. See where this leads."

"That would be nice, I'd like that."

"I need to let you know... This is a litte awkward... I tend to move slow. As in, at a snail's pace. I was with my last girlfriend for six months before we slept together."

SIX MONTHS?!!?! "Oh, that's not an issue, Sue." SIX MONTHS?!?!?! WITH AN ASS LIKE THAT, SHE KEPT HER HANDS OFF YOU FOR SIX MONTHS?!?!?! WAS SHE BLIND?!?! "Really, it's not." God I hope I mean that.

"How about I pick you up at 7? We can go the evening NA meeting, if that's alright with you."

"Isn't it your birthday today? Are you sure you don't have other plans?"

"It is my birthday. And I'm giving myself a present, of an evening with you." 

Oh. Hell. Kate melted into a puddle of warm chocolate at the soft and easy tone in Sue's voice. "I'll be ready," she said quietly. 

So there she was, at a quarter past six, staring at her reflection in the mirror and trying to pep-talk her way through the first Pre-Date Routine she'd gone through without booze in fifteen years. Luckily, her dark brown hair was cut short, and she never had bothered to style it. As for make-up, Kate had a rule. No make-up. Ever. It had started because she couldn't see the benefit to getting out of bed half an hour earlier every morning just to put on war paint. She figured, if this face is good enough for God to give it to me, it's good enough for me to leave alone. Therefore, her little routine didn't take too long. Unless of course you counted all the agonizing minutes spent locked in turmoil and panic.

She turned the shower on and reached past the curtain, holding her hand beneath the stream of water. When it was just below scalding, she got in. She lived for hot showers; almost the same way she'd once lived for hot women. As she soaped up her body and washed her hair, she tried not to think too hard about Sue or where this was going to lead. When she had first gotten sober, she knew the General Rule: don't date for the first year. She had had no problem whatsoever with that rule; in fact, she'd welcomed it. She'd welcomed it, because she was tired. She was tired of The Script. She was tired of The Roles. She was tired of every passionate kiss HAVING to lead to the bedroom. She was tired of The Game. She'd played it for years, and God she had been good at it. She knew what to do, when to do it, and how to do it. She knew when to tilt her head, when to give her crooked smile, what looks with what intensity to shoot from across the room. She knew every line, every nuance. 

There was a Logical Order of Things. Girl meets Girl; Girls follow Lesbian Romance/Sexcapade Script; Typical Lines are said in Typical Roles, all leading to the Typical Ending. And she was so. Fucking. Tired of it.

She rinsed her hair and splashed the hot water over her face, washing the suds out of her eyes. When she opened them, she stared down at her razor on the side of the tub. And thus began The Great Dilemma.

She pursed her lips and let the two warring sides of reason go at it within her skull.

"You should always shave -- you never know, Kate. She said she moved slowly, but what if things take an unexpected turn?"

"Girl, don't you even bother. It's just now hitting spring, and you've got a winter coat going. If you start shaving, you'll be in here for another five hours."

"Oh for God's sake, it's not that bad. What's fifteen minutes of your time? Just to be safe?"

"You're forgetting the laziness factor. That fifteen minutes spent shaving your legs and bikini line could be spent standing here under the nice, hot water, doing nothing."

With that last argument, the debate was over. Kate left the razor sitting where it was, and rubbed the muscles of her neck beneath the shower spray. There was another reason for the decision to not shave: she didn't want to admit that she hoped this date turned into Something More. Not just Something More for Tonight, not Something More with an Orgasm. Just... something more than the ridiuclous attempts at love and lust and longing that she'd engaged in for so very long.

She toweled off and dressed quickly. A pair of levi's, a lacy bra, a zip-up gray sweat jacket. She stood in the mirror for a good five minutes, figuring out the perfect amount to leave the jacket unzipped and still look casual. Kate was just slipping her feet into her sandals when the doorbell rang.

"Right on time," Kate smiled as she opened the door onto Sue's small, toned frame. The woman stood just under 5'5'', and couldn't have weighed more than a buck ten with two rocks in her pocket. Her smile beamed across her elfish face. 

"Are you ready?"

Kate smiled, and locked the door behind them. She felt... nervous. She couldn't remember the last time she'd felt nervous around another woman.

Her eyes were glued to Sue's ass as she followed the older woman to her car. God, she loved Sue's body. It didn't even make her self-conscious of her own, which was a strange thing for Kate. She had never gotten used to the fact that she had more hips and breasts than she was comfortable with, and dating women who were smaller than she was always made her feel enormous. Not with this one, though, she mused as she opened the passenger door to Sue's car.

She was buckling her seat belt when she realized Sue's eyes were on her. She looked up slowly into two aquamarine seas. "You know, I'm not taking you home tonight."

"Oh no?"

Sue smiled and started the car, as Kate's stomach flipped over twice and shot butterflies through her veins. Had she been serious?

The meeting that night was at the same episcopal church that the morning meeting was held in, and Sue parked the car across the street. As they strode towards the church, with Kate a few steps in front, Sue suddenly leaned close and whispered in Kate's ear,

"So...if a woman was to casually reach over and pull down on that zipper of your jacket.... What exactly would she find?"

Kate blushed and she shyly looked down at the ground as Sue walked around and fell into step beside her. "Probably nothing she'd want to see," Kate whispered. WHAT?!?! Her voice screamed in her head. WHAT?!?! SINCE WHEN DO YOU ACT THIS WAY DURING THE FLIRTING STAGE?!? HAVE YOU NO SELF-RESPECT?!?

Sue said nothing, and they walked inside the church to sit down. The evening sun was filtering through the windows, dappling the wood floor and the smiling faces of Those Who Should Have Died Years Ago, shaking hands and exchanging hugs. Sue touched Kate's arm and the younger woman looked at her. Their eyes met, and that same sensation that Kate had experienced the first time they had looked at each other --- that strange, rippling wave of electric heat and sweet serenity --- washed over her spirit and caused her breath to catch in her throat. Their eyes held the moment.

"I completely forgot what I was going to say," Sue whispered with a breathless smile.

For a moment, the look lingered. And then the meeting began. Sue faced forward, and the two women tried their damndest to concentrate. But every few moments, their eyes would meet. And breathless became electric became satin became want became peace.

Peace. That, above all else, was what Kate felt when she was around Sue. Everything was natural, easy. In fact, it was a little too natural. When they had spent the previous day together, there had been so many moments that Kate had caught herself reaching up to lightly stroke the back of Sue's neck or brush the hair away from her face; the sort of absent-mindedly tender gestures of lovers, of partners, of years-upon-years-building-comfort-and-trust. Not the touch of a new acquaintance; a friend, or possibly more. Not any touch that Kate had a right to share with the woman. 

And it was more than just these moments of automatic, natural tenderness; when Sue spoke, Kate sat in rapt attention. She found Sue absolutely intriguing; a brilliant sense of humor, and an amazing mind. And when she thought about it, Cheryl was absolutely right; Sue was far more fragile than she liked to let on. Which made her not only human... but soft. There was a softness to her voice, to her eyes. A gentility not immediately noticed. 

Though Kate had talked very little during that day, it was not for lack of trying on Sue's part. Kate had simply been too nervous to speak. Her mind had been blank. On the ride back to Kate's house, she had apologized for this, but Sue dismissed it with a wave of her hand. "You have nothing to apologize for, Kate. I loved today. I've heard you share in so many meetings, and it's made me long to know even more about you. Hopefully, when we're more comfortable together, you'll let me in." But Kate was comfortable. Very comfortable. That, she thought, might be part of the problem. 

The meeting continued on, and Sue and Kate continued their moments of breathless timeless looks. Eventually, Sue shook herself and moved her chair slightly, so that her back was to Kate, taking away the temptation to look at her. Kate smiled and focused back upon the meeting. After five minutes, Sue leaned back and whispered, "Can you come back with me after this? Watch a movie at my house?"

Kate nodded, her skin tingling from the sensation of Sue's warm breath in her ear. The rest of the meeting seemed to drag on forever.

The ride to Sue's home passed in silence, and Kate looked out the window at the night glow of the city. They wound their way past stores, stations, and homes before pulling up in front of Sue's small two-bedroom home at the other end of town. 

When Sue let them in the front door, Kate found herself standing immediately in the front room. Sue flipped on the dim overhead lamp and motioned for Kate to sit on the couch to her right, as she disappeared into the bedroom.

"Do you remember what you said to Durita, the first day that we met?" Sue called out to her.

"No..."

"You said, 'A woman would have to throw herself in my lap, in order for me to even consider the possibility that she might be attracted to me.'" Sue emerged from the bedroom carrying a small, square pillow in her arms. "Well, baby... consider this the extent of my 'making a move'," and she tossed the pillow into Kate's lap with a grin, laying her head upon it as she stretched out along the sofa.

Kate turned the light off as Sue turned the television on and began the DVD. Kate could not concentrate on the movie, for the life of her. All she could do, was stare at the woman in her lap, in the flickering darkness. She wanted to reach out, to reach over.... She wanted nothing more in the entire world, than to simply stretch out her hand, and bring it to rest lightly upon the woman's shoulder. There was nothing more she longed for. No deeper yearning in her heart. Her mind had not leapt on, towards the Sex to Come. She just wanted to touch her. She just wanted to be close, to be connected. She couldn't remember the last time something so simple had even entered her mind.

She brought her right arm up and laid it across the back of the couch, lightly running her fingertips over the embroidered fabric as she stared blindly at the television screen. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Sue's hand slowly rising... slowly lifting... slowly brushing against her own.

Kate watched as Sue's long, elegant fingers gently interlaced with hers. But the fingers did not remain. They wove through, they touched, they entwined, and then they slipped away...they trailed over the back of her hand...they caressed the soft flesh of her palm. Kate let out a soft moan, and Sue gasped at the sound. But the two women did not move. 

Kate slowly raised her hand off of the couch, her fingertips brushing against Sue's. Soft flesh kissed and teased soft flesh as their hands and fingers danced. They were speaking to each other, they were seducing each other. And both of them knew it.

This is the way I will be with you, said their hands to each other... I will be soft, gentle, tender... This is the way I will touch your breasts, your lips, your stomach, your thighs... Feel how softly my fingertips dance across your palm... That is how soft I will be with your sex... But now, feel this.... Feel how fierce I am becoming, how wanton, how desperate.... Feel the way I cling to your wrist, lock my fingers with yours, the pressure, the force, the grip I hold you in... That is the heat of my desire, that is the depth of my yearning, I want you, I want to breathe you, taste you, take you... Feel my hand slipping into your hand.... Feel my hand caressing you... grabbing you... loving you... exciting you.... This is the way I will be with you, this is the lover I will be...

Kate's breathing had become little more than ragged gasps, and her eyes were glued to the rapid rise and fall of Sue's chest. She had never experienced anything so erotic in her life. When Sue suddenly raked her nails across Kate's palm, Kate groaned, and with that Sue flipped over and hovered above Kate's breathless form.

"I can't take this anymore," Sue said with a grin, and suddenly her lips were on Kate's, her tongue was tasting and teasing their flesh. Kate moaned and parted her mouth to envelop Sue's heat. She ran her hands up the woman's back, and pulled her harder against her, wrapping her legs around the smaller woman's body as their tongues swirled against each other. 

Sue finally broke the kiss and led Kate back into her bedroom. She pulled the younger woman down upon the bed with her, holding her tight in her arms. For the next hour, they didn't speak. They kissed, they clung, they touched. They looked in each other's eyes. 

Slowly, Sue pulled down on the zipper of Kate's jacket, and Kate closed her eyes with fear. What if she didn't like what she saw... What if she wasn't beautiful enough, soft enough... anything enough... When she opened her eyes, Sue was staring into them with warmth and passion. She slipped the jacket off of Kate's arms and tossed it on the floor by the bed, gently pushing Kate back amongst the pillows. She kissed Kate's shoulders, the hollow of her neck, her chin and cheeks. 

"God you're beautiful," she whispered in Kate's ear, nuzzling her cheek with her nose. Kate felt tears coming to her eyes. "You are the most beautiful woman I've ever known, Kathryn," Sue continued, running her hand lightly across Kate's tummy, tracing the soft curves of her breasts. "Inside, and out." They kissed again, as Kate reached up and began unbuttoning Sue's shirt. 

"I need to feel you... against me.... your skin against my skin... please..."

Sue slipped out of her shirt and tossed it beside Kate's, and Kate smiled inwardly at the very sensible sports bra Sue was wearing underneath. Then that, too, was gone, joining the other clothes on the floor, and Kate's breath caught in her throat at the soft, small, porcelain body in front of her. She reached out and cupped Sue's breasts in her hands, running her thumbs and fingertips over her nipples, circling, tracing, teasing. Sue's head fell back and she moaned. She pulled the younger woman up, towards her, and undid the clasp of Kate's bra. When there was nothing left to form a barrier, they fell into each other, flesh against heat against silk against peace.

"Oh God.... Lover...."

"Jesus, Kate... Oh baby, you feel like heaven..." They kissed again, and the kiss became deeper, and the kiss moved on forever. For moments that lasted a lifetime, they kissed, they moved, the caressed. But that was all. 

As Sue lay upon her side and wrapped Kate up within her arms and legs, their breathing slowing to a synchronized rhythm, their bodies soft and strong against each other, Kate realized that this had not been anything like The Script that she was used to. Before she drifted off to sleep, she stifled a laugh at the memory of the Razor Dilemma. Well, Sue hadn't seemed to mind...


Undone



She woke up in the same position she had fallen asleep in, still tangled up in Sue's arms, Sue still tangled up in hers (a feat they have never again been able to accomplish, in all the years they've been together). Kate kissed the tip of Sue's nose, and the woman blinked her eyes open with a sleepy smile. When Kate shifted her leg, it brushed against Sue's naked sex, and the woman moaned at the inadvertent contact. All at once, a rush of heat and unfulfilled desire flooded over their senses. What had been soft and slow and liquid the night before, was suddenly molten and desperate. Sue flipped the two of them over and crushed Kate's mouth with a kiss, her thigh slipping against the growing wetness of Kate's arousal.

"Sue - please!" Kate lifted off of the bed and screamed as Sue's mouth bit down on the flesh of her neck, just as her fingers twisted against Kate's hardening nipple. The older woman moaned into Kate's flesh as Kate began pushing her down her body. "Baby, your mouth -- I need your mouth on my breasts -- oh god Baby, please!" Sue tasted the flesh of Kate's full, soft breasts, licking her way towards her nipple, sucking it into her mouth, between her teeth, flicking it with her tongue. Kate cried out and arched her back, pushing more of her against Sue's tongue. "Lover! Yes! God, Sue, yes!" Sue moaned against Kate's breast as her hand trailed down between them and lightly --- so agonizingly lightly --- trailed over the wet, naked flesh of her sex. 

"Sue!"

Sue smiled wickedly around the prize within her mouth, and met Kate's eyes over her round breast. Slowly she kissed her way back to Kate's mouth, parting her legs, pressing her wet, dripping pussy against Kate's as their lips and tongues came together. Both women moaned into each other's mouths as their hips began grinding, their bodies fucking, their hands grasping wildly at each other's flesh. With a gasp, Sue broke the kiss and cried out as Kate raised her hips off of the bed, pressing hard against the woman's wet, throbbing heat. "Oh God baby, yes! Fuck me, Kate! God, you feel so good against me!"

Kate brought her arms up to circle around Sue's neck, but Sue grabbed them and forced them down onto the pillow, above Kate's head. She held them there, by the wrists, as their bodies moved and pressed and fucked. 

"Oh... god... Sue.... Yes, baby, yes... Oh Jesus yes..."

"Tell me what you want, baby. Tell me what you like."

"Give me your mouth, lover... Oh god, put your mouth on me... Taste me baby, taste my sex..."

"Mmm yes..." Sue lowered her mouth to Kate's once more before kissing her way down her body. She paused at Kate's breasts; she nipped at the flesh of Kate's stomach, and hips; she trailed her tongue above the down of hair on Kate's mound. 

"Baby please.... Oh God, Sue, please..."

Sue's molten tongue slowly, liquidly, lightly slipped along Kate's thighs, closer, against the outside of her sex, closer, tasting her lips -- Kate cried out, her hips bucking into the air -- her flesh, and finally licking at the wet, hot slit of her sex. "Oh Jesus baby," Sue moaned into Kate's pussy, "Christ you taste so fucking good..." She trailed her tongue up and down the wet silk beneath it, circling Kate's clit, pressing against Kate's entrance. Kate had no control over the movement of her hips, which were wildly grinding her sex against Sue's tongue. 

"Oh yes, baby," Sue moaned, "fuck my face. God woman you're beautiful..." She brought her hand up to Kate's thigh and rested it there as her lips closed around the small pink flesh of Kate's clit, and sucked. Kate cried out her name, and Sue brought her fingers over to her pussy. She soaked them in Kate's dripping arousal before thrusting two deep inside of her, crooked ever so slightly, in just the right way to rub just where they should. With a scream, Kate nearly flew off the bed. Sue pulled slowly out, and thrust in again. And again. And again. Harder and harder each time. 

"Sue! God!! Oh God, Sue, fuck me! Fuck me, lover! Please fuck me! God you feel so good inside me! You make it feel so good!" Sue's tongue continued dancing wildly as her she fucked her new lover's heat. With every thrust and every taste, Kate's cries became higher, louder, shakier. When Sue felt Kate's legs begin to tremble on either side of her, she smiled into Kate's delicious mound. She felt Kate's orgasm begin. She felt the velvet muscles constrict around her fingers, she felt the wet rivulets coat her fingers and chin. And she heard her... Oh, the sounds that woman could make, Sue thought, as she listened to The Sounds of Kate Cumming. Moans and cries and operatic notes that all made Sue's pussy wetter and hotter by the second. 

Sue didn't stop; she would've kept going all morning if Kate hadn't pried her mouth away from her sex, laughing and crying and gasping for breath. "Insatiable!" She laughed as she panted, and as Sue kissed her way to her mouth with a grin.

"Woman, you are delicous, and soft, and sexy, and warm... I can't get enough of you." They embraced and kissed, Kate licking off the remnants of her arousal from Sue's lips and chin. 

"Mmm..." 

"Kate?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you have any plans for the day?"

"Yes," Kate answered, looking into Sue's eyes. The older woman's face fell. 

"Oh."

"My plans for the day are to keep you naked and locked in this bedroom with me all damn day long."

With a grin, Kate flipped the two of them over and brought her mouth to Sue's for another kiss.



Undone



An empty beer bottle arced through the air then broke the smooth surface of the water with an unimpressive splash. Mike watched the ripples spread out across the pond until they lapped against the shore at his feet. He reached into the cooler, the cold felt good to his hand, and pulled out another bottle and twisted the cap off. The ice-cold liquid gurgled down his throat.

He heard a car coming down the dirt and gravel the road behind him. It stopped, and a door opened and closed. The breeze was coming from that direction and he smelled her before he saw her. The power of that fragrance, her fragrance, caused his stomach to knot. Mike always found her fragrance intoxicating if not actually addicting. It didn't matter what perfume she wore, or if she wore nothing at all – there was always her scent.

He drained the bottle and looked at it considering that his heart seemed just as dark, just as cold, and just as empty. He heaved it out into the lake.

A flutter of pale yellow fabric caught his eye as she sat beside him. Damn, she was wearing it – the sundress with twenty-three small white buttons, although buttons number twenty to twenty-three at the top were never fastened. He knew that, because she'd told him. He knew all the buttons; knew them intimately. He couldn't help but smile and wonder – buttons number sixteen and seventeen, were they unbuttoned too?

They had been the first time he met her.

He was at a friend's summer bar-b-q when he saw her walking across the lawn. She was wearing a yellow dress that wrapped around her body in a manner that couldn't be ignored. As he gazed at the swell of her breasts he couldn't help notice the gap in the buttons. A fact he mentioned as she passed him, "Excuse me, I believe you missed a couple." 

She'd stopped and looked over her shoulder at him. "The ones at the top are 'sposed to be unbuttoned." Her voice was soft, with a Georgia accent. There was something about the way she said 'suppose', despite the dismissing quality of her tone, that emboldened him.

Undaunted, he continued, "Not those, further down." And found himself staring directly at her breasts.

She looked down, nodded and then looked up, over her sunglasses, at him. Her eyebrows arching she engaged him in a brief stare down. 

"What if ah didn't?" She took the beer from his hand and tilted it to her mouth. The movement of her arm opened the gap of fabric and he had a brief unobstructed view of her right breast and its dark pink nipple. "Miss them, that is."

"To tell you the truth..." He pushed his sunglasses to the top of his head and looked her straight in the eyes. Then he glanced down at unsecured buttons sixteen and seventeen tilted his head and bent forward slightly "...I think you did the right thing."

"Well why don't you just get a camera and take a picture? Looking down the dresses of girls you've just met, ahm shocked at your brazenness. Didn't your mama ever teach you manners?"

He looked into her eyes again and smiled. "I don't think that any photograph could properly capture your undeniable beauty. B'sides, I bet that you enjoy being looked at just about as much as I enjoy looking." He took his bottle back from her and drained it. "Our first kiss."

"You're not very good at this are you?" She reached up and wrapped her hand around the back of his neck. "That's no kiss." She pulled his mouth to hers. Her lips danced lightly across his, then met fully. Her tongue darted out and brushed along the inside of his upper lip. She pulled back and released his neck.

He straightened up and gulped, breathing in a soft gasps, he licked his lips and couldn't stop a smile. "Wow."

"That's a kiss." She stepped back, put a hand on her hip and looked him over; head to toe.

"I think I might need more lessons. I'm Mike. Michael Franklin Hampton."

"Well, Michael Franklin Hampton." She shook the offered hand then let her own fingers trace her jawline. "I s'pect ah'll have to teach you just about everything?"

"God I hope so."

Mike shook his head at the memory. He continued to stare across the pond as he spoke. "I was thinking about when we first met, the bar-b-q...what you said...about teaching me everything. I guess you had to learn it from..."

"That's not what ah remember about that day. Ah remember meeting the only man ah have ever loved." She stretched her feet into the warm water. "Funny you were recalling when we first met ah was thinking about when you took me on that picnic...and it rained... do you recall what we said to one another?"

Michael remembered too, she'd worn the yellow sundress that day. Everything had gone wrong; an accident had him an hour late picking her up, a flat tire (maybe he'd run over some debris from the accident) delayed them further, the sandwiches were soggy, the wine warm – and then it rain. Like a monsoon, the heavens opened up and drenched them. They were so thoroughly soaked in seconds that they started laughing. She had stood beneath the rain and spun slowly round. Only the dress didn't flare out as she spun that was impossible due to it being plastered to her body. When she had stopped spinning she staggered from dizziness and Michael had caught her, then knelt before her and unwrapped the wet fabric until he was face to face with button number one; the button at the very bottom of her dress. He'd undone it. And then he undid the next. One by one he unbuttoned every tiny white button of her yellow sundress. He peeled it off her body and laid her down. They made love in the rain for hours; and he had told her that he loved her; oh he remembered that. 

He forced himself not to look at her. "I understood I mean...I knew you had a lot of experience. I just never thought that..."

"Ah was a different person then Michael. Ah did things ah'm not proud of. When you took me into that jewelry store "just looking" I realized how serious you were. I felt unworthy of your commitment and I knew I had to tell you everything about my past. I told you about mah wild days and wilder nights. Ah told you about mah time in rehab." She twisted the ring on her finger, then reached out to touch Michael's arm. "Ah love you..."

Mike pulled his arm from her touch and reached for another bottle. "Yeah you told me about a lot of stuff. But you didn't tell me about...about... Goddamnit, you should've told me about that."

"Michael Hampton! How the fuck was ah s'ppose to known ah fucked your brother at some god damn fucking drug party? Ah was an addict Michael, ah am still an addict Michael, ah will be one for the rest of mah life. When ah was high ah liked to fuck. Ah fucked a lot of people back then and well, if they had a camera ah didn't care; you saw the video. Ahm sorry Michael, ah truly am. But you have to know that they truly meant nothing to me...you mean everything to me."

"Hmph." Mike reached for another bottle. 

She swatted the bottle out of his grip. "How dare you dismiss mah feelings!"

She walked into the pond and stood in front of him. "Look at me Michael, ah never knew what ah was looking for all those years until ah met you. Ah can't change what ah did. But ah know who ah am, ah know what ah am, and ah know what ah want." 

Bending forward she gripped the hem of her sundress and pulled mightily. One by one the tiny white buttons popped or came undone – every single one. Her arm motion continued up and over her head until the dress fluttered in the gentle breeze; she released it and stood naked before him. "Ah love you Michael, ah want to be your wife, ah want to be the mother of your children, ah want to grow old with you and be surrounded by our children, grandchildren and great grandchildren when we celebrate our fiftieth wedding anniversary. Ah want..."

"You're crazy, you know that." He shook his head but couldn't keep from smiling. If she was crazy, did his acknowledgement mean he was crazier? But there it was, literally and figuratively right before him. He couldn't imagine his life without her. "Don't you know how old I'll be by then?"

"Do you realize that I will love you more and more each and everyday of our life together." She fixed him with a gaze so lovingly earnest he couldn't look away; didn't want to look away. "Ah can't imagine how disappointed you must be in me Michael."

"I'm not disappointed in you. I'm..." He chuckled a quiet laugh. "Damn, I guess I need to go find my brother and apologize for beating the shit out of him."

"His front teeth are pretty loose and he needed stitches for his lip. He told me he was sorry."

"I'm the one who should be apologizing to you Shannon. Lets go home. Why don't you dress and I'll..." 

"Mah dress?" She dropped her gaze and smiled. "Ah let it go...it's gone. Ah think it sank Michael."

Michael looked past her and saw no sign of the yellow sundress. He marveled at her perfect nakedness, her vulnerability; and he smiled. "That car seat is going to be mighty uncomfotable on the pretty little ass of yours."

"You're not going to give me your shirt?" She actually blushed.

Michael shook his head.

"Fine, ah will go forth clothed only in your love and understanding. Ah don't need anything else." She thrust her perfect breasts forward and walked out of the water. She didn't even look at him as she passed. She did make a face when she slide behind the wheel and sat on the hot seat. "Well, are you coming or not?"

"You never had to ask that before." Michael laughed as he unbuttoned his shirt took it off, and held it out to his fiancé.

"Thank you sweetheart." She smiled as she slowly buttoned his shirt.

He sat down in the passenger seat and looked at her. It had to be one crazy future waiting for them. They leaned together and kissed letting the kiss end with their foreheads gently touching, hands caressing the others cheek. He looked down at her breasts now covered by his shirt. He kissed her again and whispered into her ear. "You left one undone."



Undone



I was so busy trying to keep my pile of papers from flying away as I hurried into the elevator, I didn't even notice the man who'd held the door. I noticed he'd held it, and I thanked him, but I hadn't looked up.

I felt one of the books from the stack I was carrying start to slip from my arms. I did an awkward little shift-hop-dance trying to shore them up again, and though I managed to keep the book from falling, I dropped half the pile of papers onto the elevator floor in the process.

I would have sworn if I'd been alone, but when the man bent to start picking up the scattered papers, I apologized reflexively. 

"I'm sorry," I said. "I'll get them."

"You'll lose the rest of that pile if you do," he said. He quickly retrieved the papers and straightened them before he started to hand them back to me.

"Oh," he said, pausing as he glanced at the top sheet. "These are mine."

He looked at me then and my stomach tightened. These were the faculty book lists for the semester. I'd just run off copies and was heading up to the main office, so if one of the sheets belonged to this man, he was a faculty member. And not just any faculty member—I knew all of them already even though I'd only been at the university one year, all of them except Professor Ballard, who had been on sabbatical the year I started. So that meant he was...

I stared at him for a couple of seconds, blinking stupidly. Professor Ballard—or Nick, as everyone called him as if he was such an icon he didn't need a last name—brilliant, handsome, scandalous Nick Ballard. 

"Do you work in the office?" He looked at my stack of copies and books, still holding the rescued papers, and smiled. My head filled with a confused fog as I studied his face, wondering if he was as everything people said he was.

He was respected and admired by everyone on the Science faculty for his research; he was an undisputed genius in his field. They described him as humble and generous, and as far as I could tell, academically there seemed to be no bad feelings toward him. 

But there were rumors—whispers among the students, and even the faculty. I worked in the main Science Department office, so I would sometimes overhear snippets of conversations. They'd talk like I wasn't even there, not bothering to lower their voices, even when the subject of discussion was Nick.

It was said he'd had sexual relationships with several students through the years. I'd heard that both from the faculty and the students. The number of students he'd slept with varied depending on the source of information—some people said it had only been a few, some said he'd slept with a different student every semester, choosing a new girl to seduce each year. As far as I knew, they were just rumors, but scandal seemed as much a part of his fame as his various publications and awards. 

"I do," I said nervously after a long pause.

"Work study?"

I nodded, noticing my heart was beating hard—he certainly was as good looking as everyone had hinted he was. He had big, expressive eyes, wavy brown hair that he wore a little bit longer than the other faculty members, angled cheekbones and a wide, pleasant smile.

"Here—let me take those books before you drop them."

He reached out, took the books and handed me back the stack of papers.

"I'm Nick Ballard, by the way."

I already knew that, but my heart beat a little faster just hearing his name. 

He looked at me, waiting.

"And you...are..."

"Oh! Sofia. I'm Sofia." I blushed, feeling like an idiot. "Sofia...um...Dunn."

He smiled and I thought I would faint.

"Nice to meet you Sofia."

I blushed a deeper shade of red. A moment later the elevator doors opened and relief flooded through me as we exited, turning right to head down toward the offices.

"Are you taking any of my classes this semester?"

"No. I'm not in Science," I said. "I'm a Math major, actually."

"Oh," he said in a disappointed tone. "I was hoping you were a Science major; it's such a male-dominated field. I expect Mathematics is like that too though, so they're lucky to have you."

Any reply I might have made was interrupted by the appearance of two faculty members exiting an open office. They drew Nick's attention, and as soon as it was clear our conversation was over, I scurried off to the office, my knees a little weak.

I spent the next hour in the office filing, my head distracted by thoughts of the rumors I'd heard about him. I knew he'd have no trouble seducing undergraduate students, but I wondered how much truth there was to the stories—had he actually slept with students?

I was back in my dorm room when I realized the books I'd gotten out of the library that morning were missing. My mind jumped back to that moment in the elevator when Nick had taken them, lightening my load, and realized with a mix of dread and excitement I'd have to stop by his office tomorrow and get them.

By the time I got to the Science Department offices, I was in a frazzled state. I'd gotten up late, forgotten a notebook for my first class and had to run back to my room to get it, missing breakfast. I spent my entire first class trying to quiet my complaining stomach, and watching the clock.

I ran from the elevators, my mind still in a hurried state, mentally calculating how much time I had to get the books and make it across campus in time for my next class. I stopped at the office to see if he'd left them there. 

"Sofia?" The main secretary Andi looked up from her computer as I blew in. "You're not on the schedule today."

"No, I know," I said hurriedly. "Professor Ballard has some of my books, from yesterday. I just thought he might have left them with you."

"No, he didn't." She said, turning her attention back to her computer. "But he's down in his office right now." 

"OK, thanks," I said, but my stomach turned nervously as I left the office and headed toward his door.

I heard his voice before I got there and peeked around the edge of the open door. He was on the phone, but looked up immediately and beckoned me in with an enthusiastic hand gesture. I glanced around the office, which, like most of the faculty offices was primarily bookshelves and stacks of books. I eyed some of the titles, noting the majority had the word "Quantum" in their title and wondered vaguely whether his interests and mine overlapped at all—maybe I would take some of his classes later.

"Alright," he said into the phone. "I've got to go, I have a student here."

He said a quick, casual goodbye and stood as he returned the phone to its cradle. 

"I stole your books!" he said apologetically. "I'm so sorry, Sofia."

The fact that he remembered my name made me flush with pleasure. I was the kind of girl who routinely went unnoticed. Some of the faculty members whose errands I'd been running for a whole year hadn't bothered to remember it. I was flattered, and coming out of Nick's mouth, it sounded so nice.

He came around from behind his desk and handed me my books.

"I hope you didn't need these last night. I felt so bad when I realized I'd run off with them. By the time I noticed, you were gone."

"Oh, no, no," I said quickly, waving my hand and shaking my head to emphasize how completely unimportant they were. I didn't like thinking he'd felt bad. "I didn't need them. Sorry I left them with you."

"You didn't. I took them. Remember?" He peered at me for a second. "Are you in the habit of apologizing for things that aren't your fault? You did that in the elevator yesterday, when I picked up the papers you dropped."

"Uh." I turned red. I had an urge to apologize.

"I wasn't accusing you," he said when he saw my face go red. "I just noticed it, that's all."

To my extreme relief, he changed the subject suddenly. 

"Hey, listen—I'm wondering if you could help me with a project? I don't know how many hours your work study job is, or if Andi would be able to spare you, but I'm working on this new class, and I need some research materials rounded up from the library." He looked at me and I noticed his eyes had sort of lit up behind the oval lenses of his eyeglasses. "It's not hard, but it's kind of tedious I'm afraid."

"Oh, uh, sure," I said uncertainly.

"I'm not sure it's even kosher for me to give you a personal project like that, I'll have to see if I can sweet talk Andi into letting you go. It shouldn't take more than a few hours. When do you work?"

He was talking quickly, clearly excited.

"Uh, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday—from nine to one."

He turned and leaned across his desk, reaching for his datebook and I took the opportunity to study him while his attention was elsewhere. 

He was younger than most of the other professors—I thought he must be in his 40's, and easily more animated and engaging (though I thought that was due more to personality than age). He had a small build and stood only a few inches taller than me—around 5' 7" I guessed, but his enthusiasm made him seem bigger, more forward, more there.

I'd already known he was attractive, but when he looked directly at me, his green and gold eyes made it hard to focus on what I was seeing. Now I had a chance to really notice the angle of his cheekbones, the grey that streaked his dark brown hair and guessed the female students in the department probably had a hard time paying attention in his classes.

"Thursday I have a meeting at noon, but I'm free in the morning." He ran his finger down the page, following his itinerary. "I could meet you at the Science Library at nine—if Andi doesn't mind, of course—and get you set up. You'll be able to do it on your own, I just want to make sure you're clear on where everything is."

He looked up then, his eyes bright. "Would nine work?" He took a pencil from the desktop and held it, point poised over the paper.

"Um, sure. OK."

"Great."

I watched him write my name in the 9:00 block in neat, square capitals, and couldn't help feeling a little excited. A personal project with Nick. What a thrill.

He closed his datebook and slid it back onto his desk, turning to face me. 

"I worked on this while I was on sabbatical, so I'm really excited to get started."

We made final arrangements and as I turned to go he reached out and tugged at my scarf.

"Did you know you're trailing behind?"

I looked and saw in my haste to get to his office I hadn't even noticed half my scarf had unraveled. I colored as he held the striped knit aloft, the fringe damp and dirtied from having been dragged halfway across campus over the slushy sidewalks. 

This kind of thing happened to me all the time; I was always forgetting things, dropping things, spilling things. I'd been like that since I was a kid, and even though I was sort of used to it, it was always embarrassing to have it pointed out, and to have it pointed out by a professor—this professor—was positively mortifying.

He didn't seem bothered by it at all, but I certainly was.

"I'll get it all set with Andi," he said airily. "See you then, Sofia." 

//

I was, of course, late meeting him on Thursday. Only by a few minutes, but I'd run all the way across campus and was panting so hard by the time I got there, I couldn't talk for a full minute. He was waiting inside, casually chatting with a pretty young woman at the desk, and smiled when I finally came in, breathing fast.

"Sorry I'm late," I gasped.

"Only five minutes." He was still smiling, watching me. "No big deal. Catch your breath and we'll go up."

We took the elevator to the third floor, and once again I found myself in a tiny space with the legendary Nick Ballard, only this time I knew it, and my heart was beating faster than ever. 

I kept a tight hold on my backpack in case it should fall from my shoulder, surreptitiously checked my scarf to make sure it wasn't trailing behind again, and tried to focus on his voice as he explained what I'd be doing. It was straight-forward enough; retrieving articles from the stacks and photocopying them so he could make clean scans.

He set his bag down on a table toward the very back of the library, unzipped it, and drew out a handwritten sheet of paper which he studied for a minute before putting it down on the table in front of me. As he got his coat off he nodded toward the stacks beside us. 

"Everything is in there, shouldn't be too hard to find."

I draped my coat over a chair and stripped off my cardigan (between the heat in the library, my sprint across campus, and Nick's arousing presence, I was boiling hot) and followed him down the aisle, watching him run his fingers along the spines of the books. They were thick hardbound volumes, and there were thousands of them—years and years of back issues of magazine and educational journals. He caught my look of surprise.

"I know it looks intimidating, doesn't it? But the system is fairly intuitive and everything is in the computer database, it's just a matter of finding the right volume." He pulled down a book and flipped through the pages. "The tedious bit will be finding the article."

He next took me to the computer and briefly showed me what information I'd need to copy down in order to find the right volume. He hovered behind me, leaning forward occasionally to put a finger on the screen, making sure I knew exactly which of the numbers I'd need to find the right volume. I already knew what to do, it was easy, but when he leaned that close to me I caught the scent of his cologne or soap, vaguely sweet and spicy, and didn't mind sitting through his thorough explanation.

"So you've got it?" he asked once we'd returned to the table. "It's not hard."

"Right," I said.

"You take this." He slid the list across the table, turning it so it was face up for me, and then reached for his coat. "I'll come back in a bit to see how it's going. Anything you can't find, just circle it on the list and I'll give you a hand."

"OK."

"Thanks, Sofia," he said, shouldering his bag. "I appreciate it; this is a huge help to me."

I spent an hour on the computer looking up the files and copying the location of the volumes I needed, then headed down the aisle to find the first volume. It was easy enough to find the right book, and I soon had a pile on my table higher than me. I spent the next hour bookmarking the correct articles and then returned to the stacks for the rest of the books. 

Out of the corner of my eye I saw someone approaching down the long aisle. I turned my head, recognized Nick's silhouette, and dropped the book I'd been pulling off the shelf, whacking myself in the chin. I caught it, but couldn't suppress a little noise of pain and surprise.

"Oh, sorry," Nick said quietly as he came toward me. He looked concerned, but I thought a little amused too. "I didn't mean to scare you. Are you OK?"

He hadn't scared me so much as he'd thrown that switch he threw any time he was around me, the one that made my whole body go hot and weak.

"I just wanted to make sure you were doing alright up here. I had visions of you trapped under piles and piles of Physics Quarterly."

I smiled a nervous smile and had to look away from his eyes, rubbing at my chin, trying not to replay his words "visions of you..." in my head.

"Have you run into any problems?" he asked. "Besides being clubbed by Experimental Nanoscience, I mean."

I laughed a little nervously and said everything had been fine.

"Great. I knew you could handle it, I just wanted to make sure you weren't having any trouble with the list. Sounds like you've got it under control." He turned and was about to say goodbye when he suddenly turned back.

"Oh," he said, his voice a little louder than it had been, a little excited. He quieted it and stepped back toward me. "How come you didn't tell me you were such an academic dynamo?"

"A dyna...what?"

"I was talking to Professor Asher," he said, taking another step closer. "She told me you were of their most promising undergraduates. I could tell you were bright, but I didn't know—you won a competition in high school, right? Competing against college level students. Something national. Is that right?"

"I—I was on a team that won," I said, embarrassed. "It wasn't just me."

He took a step toward me and I saw his eyes drop briefly from my eyes—lower, to my chest, and the idea he might be checking out my breasts made me shiver inside. I didn't have to look down to know my nipples were hard and no doubt, through the thin fabric of my shirt, even with my bra beneath covering them, they would be visible. I felt my face go redder, if that was even possible.

"But you went on to win the national scholarship," he said, lifting his eyes to mine again. "One hundred thousand dollars; that's pretty impressive."

The realization that he might have asked about me suddenly struck me like a blow. Had he asked my teacher specifically? Or had I just come up in conversation somehow?

I shifted the book, hugging it to my chest in part to keep myself from dropping it, but also to cover my breasts, and endured his questions for a few more minutes, feeling the usual mix of pride and embarrassment that swirled inside me any time someone told me how smart I was, but now it mingled with the attraction I felt, increasing my feelings of arousal.

Nick left and I finished the project right at the end of my work shift. I carefully slid the photocopies I'd made into a folder and brought them to him in his office. He flipped through them, his eyes running rapidly over the text, his brow drawn in concentration. When he looked up and smiled, his face transformed completely, like someone had shone a light on it, making it glow.

"This is great, Sofia. Thank you so much for helping me out." He rapped the copies smartly on the desk and set them down in a perfect pile. "I should buy you a coffee."

"Uh, no it's OK—" I started to say, but he cut me off.

"You more than deserve it." He smiled. "Well, it would have to be coffee from the Union, and you deserve better than that, but I have a class at two and it's the closest place, so until I can thank you properly, that will have to do." He stood and crossed the room to get his coat, and I could tell he wasn't going to let me object. Not that I wanted to...

We sat at one of the small tables in the Union and I was, if possible, more nervous than I'd been the first time I met him, so nervous he commented on it.

"Sofia, I don't scare you do I?" he asked, looking at me carefully. "You're so jumpy when I talk to you. You seem nervous."

"What?" I said quickly, alarmed by his direct question. "No, no, I'm not nervous. I mean—I am, but I'm not nervous because of you, I just get nervous. I don't know why I do, but I always do, I mean—I always have, I'm a nervous person, it's not because of you. Really. It's just me."

"I see," he said slowly, once I'd stopped my babbling.

I looked down at my paper coffee cup and for a few minutes more we talked about math and science overlap, and I thought he was probing a little to see just how smart I was. I couldn't drink my coffee, my stomach was so knotted, but he soon finished his and started making motions to go.

"Thank you again, Sofia," he said standing and pulling his overcoat on. I stood too, and was very careful not to drop my coat or spill my bag in the process. I started to slip my arm into the sleeve of my coat when he spoke. "By the way, your cardigan is on inside-out," he said with casual ease.

I looked down, horrified. It was. Inside-out. Seams exposed, buttons wrong way around, and I didn't have to look to know my tag was sticking up at the back of my neck. I went cold and then hot, my blood rushing in response to my embarrassment.

"I would have told you earlier, but it's kind of cute when you do things like that."

I looked at him suddenly, my tense stomach contracting even more. "Cute?"




Undone



"Sorry, cute was the first word I thought of, I wasn't being patronizing I swear—it's charming. Endearing. Pleasingly Idiosyncratic." 

I gaped, moving like the world just slowed to half-speed, as I stood in my inside-out cardigan and red face.

"Well, see you, Sofia." He smiled, turning away. "Thanks again."

He left and the knot in my stomach rolled, sending weird feelings through my whole body—some pleasure, some nausea. I was mortified, but thrilled in a strange way too. 

He'd noticed before. That was what he'd said. What else had he noticed? What other dumb, klutzy thing had I done that he'd seen? I groaned out loud but quickly remembered he'd said it was cute. He'd said charming, endearing, pleasantly idiosyncratic. My heart jumped and then sank again. Was he teasing me or was he flirting? The whole thing made my head spin and I stood like I was in a trance for at least a full minute before I remembered I had to get to class.

After that, if I saw him in the hall or if he came into the office while I was working, I would blush and wish he'd stop me to ask me something, at the same time fervently hoping he wouldn't. More than once he did stop me, and his question each time seemed trivial, something he could have asked anyone in the department, or something he really needed to ask Andi, but asked me instead, and each time my heart raced and I felt myself get hot all over, my pussy responding to the way his eyes roamed my face and down my body without hiding their actions. I was always left with a mixed-up sensation of arousal and confusion, but I didn't exactly mind.

//

"Sofia, can you take these down the hall to Nick?"

A month after we'd had coffee in the Union, Andi handed me a stack of folders and started putting her coat on. "I've got an appointment, so I'll be back at ten, just hold down the fort while I'm gone. It's quiet around here this week, so it should be fine."

My heart squeezed suddenly as I took the pile of files from her. I waited for her to go and ducked into the bathroom to check my reflection in the mirror, making sure I at least had all my clothes on right side out, and took a minute to study myself. 

I'd never been obsessed with my looks; my interest in high school was all in books. I'd had friends, a boyfriend for a year, and I went out and did normal teenage things, but I was far more likely to read an article on probability than fashion.

Luckily, I'd inherited some good genes. I was a copy of my mother—wavy brown hair to my shoulders, round brown eyes, a narrow face, a nice smile with perfectly formed cupid's bow lips. She was beautiful, and while I wasn't sure I was beautiful, I thought maybe I was approaching something close.

I knocked on Nick's closed door, and turned the handle when he called me in. My heart was racing before I got through the door.

He smiled when he saw me, the light catching the edge of his wire-rimmed glasses. He was standing nearly behind the door, in front of an open file cabinet, and he held his hand out when I came around toward him.

"Just in time," he said, taking the folders from my hand and slipping them into the front of the file drawer. "Thank you."

I turned to go, but he stopped me.

"Hey, Sofia, can I ask you something?"

He didn't close the drawer or turn, so I approached him, moving into the space between the file cabinet and the office door.

"I wanted to apologize if I hurt your feelings last month in the student union. You seem even more nervous around me since then and I've been worried it was because of that. It was an inappropriate comment. I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable."

"Umm," I started to say, as he turned to face me. I wasn't even sure what comment he meant—asking if he scared me? Saying I was cute? "It's OK."

"It's OK that I made you uncomfortable?"

"No. I mean, no you didn't."

"I didn't make you uncomfortable?" he sounded unconvinced.

"Not...too uncomfortable." I admitted, looking away.

"Well, I didn't intend to do that, so I apologize for putting you in an awkward situation." He looked at me, waiting for some kind of reply.

"OK," I said, not sure what else to say.

"But Sofia," he said, elbowing the file drawer gently closed, a little smile appearing on his lips. "I did intend to compliment you." The drawer closed with a soft click and he turned to face me directly. "I did mean what I said; you are very charming in a mysterious way."

My heart jumped.

"I like mystery," he continued. "Especially in intelligent young women."

I stared at him, my heart beating hard, remembering the rumors I'd heard about him. Maybe they were true after all. I'd been skeptical before, but now, under his gaze and standing so close to him, I believed at least that if he approached a student romantically and she had a pulse she'd have a very hard time turning him down.

"There's something about you, Sofia. I don't know..."

His words trailed off and for a few seconds he just looked at me, his eyes moving lower and lower, sweeping down my body. 

Something in my head suggested I run, but my hardening nipples and rapidly swelling labia disagreed. I stared, scared, but undeniably excited by his attention.

"When I see you, and you're trailing papers and your pony tail's coming loose..." He shifted his weight on his feet, but didn't step closer. 

There was a distance of three feet between us. The door was half open. I could easily step to my right and around it and leave if I wanted to. 

"And yet, I know you're grounded, I know you possess a fantastic intellect and grasp of abstract concepts far beyond your peers—" He stopped abruptly and smiled a wolfish smile that made my mouth go dry. 

"I find that irresistible about you, by the way." He watched me for a second, still smiling, and stepped closer. "Nothing sexier than a smart woman, except maybe..." He took another step closer and reached out, pushing the hair away from my face. "A smart paradox of a woman." He touched my ear with a fingertip and a shiver raced down my spine, leaving a tingle behind that spread through me, concentrating between my legs. 

"You look like you're unraveling unpredictably, but I suspect you're more together than anyone knows...I'd love to find out for myself."

He stared, smiling, and I stared back, excited and confused and growing more aroused by the second.

"Are the rumors true then?" I said suddenly, forcing the words out of my mouth in a nervous breath.

"Which rumors?" He narrowed his eyes in suspicious interest, still smiling a sly little smile.

"About...you and..." I couldn't say it. My heart was beating so fast and so hard, my chest ached.

"Students?"

I nodded and waited as he took a deep breath and a step backward, the excited fire in his eyes dimming a little.

"Well, I don't know what the rumors you've heard say, but if you're asking if I've ever had a sexual relationship with a student, the answer is yes."

He'd spoken very slowly and carefully, watching my face the whole time. I'm not sure if I reacted, I felt frozen in place.

"Two, to be exact," he continued. "One was a music major, a very talented young woman—smart too, unbelievably smart, actually. The other was a grad student of mine. I still see her sometimes." 

I reacted to that, showing my surprise. 

"I don't mean sexually," he said. "She just lives in the area. She's got a great teaching job at a charter school, a very handsome husband. She's quite well adjusted, I assure you—I don't think having sex with me damaged her psychologically. But yes, I have slept with my students."

There was a protracted silence in which I tried to gather my thoughts and feelings. He'd just admitted he'd had sex with two students and hadn't shown an ounce of shame or regret. I wasn't sure how I felt about that.

I was unable to look away, despite wanting to look anywhere but into his golden-green eyes. I took in every detail of his face like I was mapping it—his thin nose that led my eyes straight to his mouth, the curve of his upper lip, the pink skin that looked so soft and warm, the hint of dark whiskers beneath his skin, the lines and wrinkles around his eyes and mouth. 

"Does that make you uncomfortable?" He asked, moving toward me again. "To know I slept with students?"

I paused before I answered, and thought about how I felt—uncomfortable, yes, but also nervous and excited, curious and aroused, my whole body buzzing with energy. Since he seemed to be waiting for an answer, I opened my mouth and managed a quiet, "No."

He raised his eyebrows. "Really? That surprises me."

I couldn't help glancing to my right, toward the door, but then I looked back at him, not sure what to say, not sure what I felt, except that I didn't want to go...yet. His eyes flicked to the door then, and he watched me, knowing my thoughts, waiting to see what I would do. I stood, and stared.

He moved toward me until he was close enough I could smell that scent again—that spicy warm smell he had. I waited, heart beating fast.

"I have a feeling you're full of surprises." 

He reached out and ran one finger along my cheek. It made me shiver.

"That just makes you even more attractive to me."

He stepped closer and I stepped back reflexively. 

"The door's still open, Sofia." He met my eyes. "You can go if you want." I could see he meant it and knew I could step back and away and leave his office and he wouldn't stop me. Somehow, just knowing that made me want to stay. 

"I'm not a monster," he said in a softer voice. "But I do have a penchant for smart young women, the smarter the better."

He ran his finger under my chin and stepped forward again, more slowly. This time I forced myself to stay still, though some part of my brain was still in panic mode, desperately trying to get me to pay attention to my doubt. It was rapidly losing its influence as Nick's handsome face drew nearer. He waited a second before he tilted my face, his thumb just below my bottom lip, his finger crooked beneath my chin, and brought his mouth to mine, kissing me softly.

I heard myself make a noise of surprise and alarm. My heart threatened to tear my chest apart, and my legs went weak from confusion, but it felt so good. So good. 

He drew his mouth away, but only for a second, and then he kissed me again. His other hand came up to my face and he moved both to cradle my whole skull in his palms as he kissed me with increasing boldness, his tongue sliding from his parted lips.

My whole body reacted with a violent shiver, and when his hands dropped from my head and our mouths parted, I sighed with obvious pleasure. Nothing had felt that good before.

"You're something of an enigma, Sofia—full of contrasts. I know you're a strong, determined young woman, but you get so flustered when someone compliments you. When I told you you were cute, you blushed like a virgin. You looked so shocked, but somehow I think it turned you on too." 

My attention was drawn to his hands as they slid to my waist. 

"Just a minute ago I thought you were going to run. But you're still here."

He leaned closer, bringing his mouth close to mine again, pulling me toward him a little. I resisted, but only a little. He kissed the corner of my mouth once and then my cheek, making me shiver again.

"You're still here...why? Did that kiss excite you?" He kissed my lips once again. "Did it make you wet?"

I stared at him, inches from my face, and his words were like hands on my body—brushing over my breasts and slipping down between my legs. He kissed my lips again, softly, and I knew he was right; I was excited. When he spoke his voice was just a whisper. I barely heard it over the thumping rhythm of my heart.

"If I offered to take you somewhere, would you let me? Would you go with me?" he said. "Spend the night with me?"

I gasped and his hands tightened on my waist for a second. He watched my expression, waiting before he spoke again.

"You're a smart girl, Sofia; you know what I want." His hand slid around to the small of my back and he pressed me close to him. "I think you want it too."

I swallowed hard and watched his eyes as he searched my face.

"Think about it. I won't press you, but if you're interested, I promise I'll make the evening worth your while." 

He kissed me again, I felt his mouth open slightly and the light touch of his tongue against my closed lips. I gasped and he turned his head slightly, kissing me with more passion, encouraging my mouth to stay open as he ran his tongue across my bottom lip lightly. It was like the heat from his body was pouring into me, filling my mouth and spreading through my body. When he pulled away, I felt the sense of loss, my lips still hot and wet, but missing the contact of his.

"My last class ends at four on Friday." He let his hands drop to his side. "I could be back on campus to pick you up by six. You tell me where, and I'll be there."

He looked at me with a less certain expression, and though his words sounded just as sure of my answer, there was something in his face that made me think he was asking, inviting, hoping, but not expecting my answer to be yes.

"You can call my office, leave a message on my voice mail—I'll check it after class."

I stared, in disbelief and wonder, and felt myself nod to show him I understood. 

"Call even if your answer is no, just so I know."

He stepped away then, and took a deep breath, returning to his usual sure-minded, upright posture.

"Thanks for bringing the files." He stepped backward a pace, turned, and walked toward his desk.

It took me a full minute to react. I watched him as he crossed the room and sat down in his chair, acting as if he hadn't just kissed me, or asked if I was aroused, or invited me to have sex with him. I eventually remembered myself and turned too, leaving without another word.

I fretted the next 30 hours, my stomach clenched and churning, swinging wildly between dizzying excitement and worry that he was just playing with me. What if he'd lied? What if he really was as lecherous as the rumors made him out to be? Did he think I was naïve? Was I naïve?

I wasn't a virgin, but I could count my sexual experiences on one hand, and all of them were with the same boyfriend who was as inexperienced as I was. Maybe I was naïve, but maybe that was part of what he found attractive.

Somewhere in the back of my head I knew I would go, even before I left his office I knew, but I waited until the afternoon of the next day to call and leave my message.

I hung up on Nick's voice mail the first time I called—just hearing his recorded voice sent a shiver down my spine. It made me remember his sly smile, the incredible heat of his mouth on mine, but also the fear that had risen up. I hung up, took a few deep breaths and called again.

The reality of what I'd just done, once I'd successfully left the message, took my breath away. I grinned to myself, my heart beating fast, and sat in a daze for a few minutes while his words swirled through my head seductively, like silk ribbons twirling and catching the light—mesmerizing in their slippery, graceful dance. Spend the night with me.

I had three hours to get ready, to dig through my closet and drawers, choose and reject outfits, changing two dozen times until my bed was piled with nearly every article of clothing I owned. I settled on a dark red button top beneath a thin black cardigan, a flared white skirt that ended just below my knees, black tights and the only pair of dress shoes I owned—black satin flats. Under all that, I wore a simple light blue bra and panty set, and each article of clothing, though I liked them, made me doubt myself a little. 

I looked at myself in the mirror critically once I'd finally finished dressing, and frowned. My outfit, which really was the best one I could put together, made me look like I was going to a piano recital; there was nothing sexy about me.

My doubt about my sex appeal had started earlier, when I'd taken advantage of my roommate's absence to look at myself naked in the mirror. I wasn't in the habit of doing so, but lately I'd been noticing my body more—specifically the way it reacted to Nick's presence. I'd found myself wet and throbbing after conversations we'd had, even if the conversations were entirely about photocopies or text books. And my nipples seemed perpetually hard, aching and longing for attention.

I'd studied myself critically for a while, turning to view my naked body from all angles. My breasts were small, and my waist was small, and I'd worried it just made my hips look too wide. I'd looked at myself from the side, tracing the curve of my profile, the slight roundness of my belly, the echo of that curve at the small of my back before the flesh curved out again, defining my ass. I'd always been a little on the skinny side, but I'd gained weight my freshman year, and though I was far from being fat, I hadn't gotten used to my new body's curves yet. I wasn't sure I was sexy, but reasoned I couldn't transform in the next two hours, so I'd better just accept what I had and make the most of it.

I'd taken a long shower, made sure my legs were smooth and shaved, and, back in the privacy of my room, with a hand mirror and a pair of scissors, carefully trimmed my pubic hair. I'd never even considered shaving or waxing, but suddenly I worried about all the hair I'd never given much thought to—weren't most of the women in porn completely bare? Is that what Nick would expect? Just the thought of Nick looking at my pussy made me shiver with fright and excitement.

I'd worked carefully for ten minutes and looked myself over, thrilled by the way my slit was visible through my now neatly shortened pubic hair. I liked what I saw and thought about Nick, about him asking if he'd made me wet, and moaned with excitement. I had an urge to slip my fingers between my labia and stroke myself, but there was a lovely achy longing within that flesh, and I didn't want to disturb it.

Nick's car smelled of the same spicy scent, like cedar. He smiled at me as I got in, his eyes running down my body from top to bottom, his smile widening as they did. He didn't say anything, though, and for the first few minutes we rode in silence, my heart beating like mad in my chest.

"We'll eat first," he said, as if what we would do second was just a movie or a game of chess, not sex. "I don't eat meat, but I eat most anything else," he said looking my direction for the first time since I got in the car. "How about you? Hungry for anything in particular? Something fancy?"

"No, not fancy," I said quickly. "Nothing where I have to worry about which fork to use. Or...drop, I mean."

He laughed and the sound filled the car, warm and encouragingly intimate.

We decided on pasta and ended up at a small Italian restaurant a few miles out of town. It was dark enough to feel romantic, but casual enough to not make me nervous. Or, at least not any more nervous than I already was. 

He bought wine without asking if I was 21 (I wasn't quite), and watched me over the rim of his glass as I took my first sip. I'd had alcohol before, and though the buzz was nice, I'd never liked the taste of anything I'd tried. This, however, was warm and soothing, and spread through me like liquid confidence, dulling my doubts and sharpening the feeling that was building in my pussy. 

Our conversation at dinner was entirely academic—discussing the overlap of Physics and Math and how each approached the study of Quantum Mechanics. It was exciting, in a really geeky way, but if he thought I was a geek, he obviously liked it—his smile grew as we talked and ate and I started to think he'd really meant what he'd said the other day, I even enjoyed his compliments about the breadth of my knowledge. 

I got through dinner without spilling or dropping anything, which was a major feat for me—it did wonders for my sense of confidence. As we walked to the car, I felt like I could do anything and do it perfectly, but as we drove further from the school and toward our next destination, my confidence faded a little, thinking about what was going to happen, nervous doubt creeping in a little.




Undone



Neither of us spoke as we walked from the car to the hotel and I tried not to think of what the man at the desk was thinking as Nick registered.

Once inside the room, he moved through turning on the lights, gradually illuminating the space. It had a small table and chair, a tall wardrobe beside a low set of drawers atop which was mounted an ornate mirror that reflected the object that dominated the room and had demanded my attention the moment the first light went on: the wide bed with its seamless, white blanket and small arrangement of pillows at the head. I had to force my eyes away from it, busying myself with my long wool coat, removing it with extra care, my fingers clumsy from the wine and my nerves.

Nick hung our coats in the entry way closet, then bent to untie his shoes, which he placed on the floor beneath them. I slid my feet from my shoes and he took them, placing them next to his. He straightened and smiled a very small smile, the corners of his mouth creasing just a little. 

He moved toward me and took my hands in his, bending his head to mine, kissing me softly on the lips.

"Sofia." He dragged out the syllables, like he was trying out the word on his tongue. It had the same effect a finger dragged lightly down my spine would have. I shivered violently and he smiled.

After a few seconds he let go of my hands, and brought my body close to his. And we kissed. Minutes passed. Maybe hours, I couldn't be sure, but our mouths stayed locked for a long time, moving in a slow motion ritual dance, heads tilting one way then the other, tongues advancing and retreating, lips meshing, sucking, opening wide. The pace increased slowly, as did the depth of our kisses, the pressure of our mouths, the quick breaths of surprise and delight, until he drew back, taking my hands again and stepped toward the bed.

He paused just beside it and his eyes dropped from my face as he brought a hand up to run a finger down the front edge of my cardigan, boldly navigating the curve of my breast without pause, each button jumping beneath his fingertip as he passed over them.

"You got it right side out this time," he said softly, moving his finger back up and then bringing both hands up to slip the thin knit from my shoulders. He stepped behind me as he drew the sweater down and off my arms, and slid his arms around my waist. He kissed my neck, nuzzling his face into my hair for a second before bringing his mouth to my ear. 

"I want you to undress for me, Sofia. I want to see you naked, but slowly—bit by bit, inch by inch." He continued laying kisses against my neck, working upward until his mouth was at my ear. "I want to see you come undone...for me," he whispered.

He stepped away, his hands leaving my body slowly, and came around in front of me.

"I—I've never done anything like that before," I said, uncertainly.

"Don't be shy; I already know you're beautiful." He sat down on the edge of the bed and looked at me expectantly.

"Um."

"Start with your tights."

I stared some more, and he waited quietly, patiently, as if he would wait forever.

"Your tights, Sofia." He let his eyes drop meaningfully, as if he was mentally lowering them himself.

I knew I had to do it before I lost all nerve. 

I lifted my skirt at the sides and began to lower the elastic waistband of my tights, pushing the silky knit down my thighs. I knew he hadn't seen anything yet—my skirt had blocked his view—but even as I drew my feet from the tight nylon and dropped them onto the chair behind me I felt revealed, exposed. The whole thing was so surreal, I wasn't sure it was really happening.

"Your shirt next."

I could feel my hands trembling as I brought them up, located my first shirt button, and slid it through the hole. I looked at him nervously, but his eyes were on my fingers as I slowly made my way down the front of my blouse, button after button. When I paused, he raised his eyes to mine. I took a deep breath and parted the fabric, letting the sleeves slide down my arms and off, onto the floor. I blushed beneath my already red face, and worried he'd be disappointed by my small breasts or the fact that I wore a bra with a little bit of padding in the bottom—not a lot, but enough to give what breasts I had a little lift, to make them look a bigger.

He breathed a long breath, his eyes expectant. "Now your skirt."

As I reached behind my back, he started undoing the buttons of his own shirt, and I watched with just as much anticipation as he worked his way lower. I blindly undid the fastener and then the zipper of my skirt lowering it slowly, feeling my mouth go dry as my hands inched their way lower. The fabric went slack and I paused for a second before hooking my fingers in the waistband and lowering my skirt, slipping my feet from it and taking the time to carefully arrange it over the arm of the chair.

I turned to find him drawing his arms from his sleeves, his eyes sweeping up and down my body. My eyes were busy too; taking in the vision of his bare chest. He wasn't particularly muscular, but he obviously kept fit, and my whole body reacted to the wealth of bare skin before me.

"Don't stop," he said, his voice even softer than it had been. "Bra next."

Reality was forcing itself into my dazed head—panic running hot behind. I pushed down my fear, though I was nearly trembling from head to toe, and reached behind me to undo the tiny hooks. As soon as the straps went slack, my panic rose up fast, freezing me in place. I brought my hands around quickly, holding the bra against my breasts.

He looked at me, slid his belt free and laid it, coiled on the bed next to him. His lusty look softening a little. "I promise you won't disappoint me, if that's what you're worried about. I'm 100% sure I will find your breasts as beautiful as the rest of you."

I couldn't move; my mind had stopped working. I just stared, horrified by my inability to act, horrified by the tears that were threatening behind my eyes. He slid to the end of the bed, still looking at me, and removed his socks before he stood up. He placed his hands on my bare shoulders and very gently planted a kiss on my cheek.

"You are beautiful," he said softly. "If you doubt me, I'll show you."

He kissed my cheek again and tilted his head down, to catch my mouth with his, placing a soft, wet kiss on my lips.

"It's a shame we're so obsessed with large breasts in this culture," he said as he straightened. He ran his hands down my arms, slipping the straps of my bra lower. I stood, frozen, pleasure and fear rippling through me. "Small breasts are just as attractive, and anyway, it's more to do with the woman herself than anything else." His hands moved to mine and he very gently lifted them away, toward his body so the soft cups of my bra fell away. We both looked down as my breasts were revealed.

He let go of my hands, slipping his fingers into the straps that hung from my wrists, and carefully folded the garment in two before he turned enough to toss it gently onto the chair with my other discarded clothes. Then he turned his attention back to me.

His hands returned to my arms, this time sliding upward, and I shivered though the room was quite warm. Goose bumps erupted across my skin, and my already hard nipples contracted even more, from the shiver and the knowledge that Nick's eyes were on them. 

He kissed my cheek again and turned me around, stepping me forward a few paces until we were in front of the mirror beside the wardrobe. He slid his bare arms around my waist and leaned forward, his face next to mine in the reflection.

"Sofia, you are a beautiful woman," he breathed encouragingly. I stared at my naked upper body as his hands slid over my skin, caressing my belly and spreading out over my hips. "Do you think you're beautiful? Do you see what I see? Look."

I watched his hands as they lightly traced my hips and waist, running along the silhouette.

"This curve here," he said, running his fingers along the outside of my hip and upward. "Where your waist dips above your pelvic bone. And this line..." he continued, drawing his fingers upward, pausing at my center, just below my breasts before bringing them back out to trace the edge of my ribcage, exaggerated by my tightly held breath. "The arc of your ribs...and here..." His hands moved lower, resting warmly on my belly, one hand covering the other. He held them there for a moment and I looked at his face in the mirror to find his eyes were closed. "So soft."

His words were as thrilling as the sight of his hands moving over my body. I let out the breath I'd been holding and he opened his eyes to meet mine, his fingers spreading and then moving out to curve around my waist.

His eyes dropped from mine and I followed his gaze to my breasts, tensing slightly as his hands moved upward again.

"I think," he said, "this is the sweetest curve on any woman's body."

He drew his fingers along the lower curve of my breasts, slowly, just barely touching my skin. 

"Large or small—it's graceful."

I felt him shift behind me slightly, noticing his body seemed closer.

"And this..." he brought both hands up, hovering over my breasts. He laid one finger flat on my skin. "This slope..." He moved lower, barely grazing my skin as he traveled the upper surface of my breast, inching closer to my nipples. "This slope is positively gorgeous."

I squirmed and sighed when he reached my nipples, and saw my own face in an expression of discomfort and arousal, his face just beside, watching me too.

"Not just because it leads to these." 

He made a few lazy circles on the outside of my areolas, bringing his head forward slightly, his eyes moving from my reflection to look down at my breasts from above and his own circling fingers. I felt his breath on my neck.

"Mmm, they're so hard and sensitive," he whispered, tightening his circles until he had a nipple under each of his index fingers and was rolling them back against the swell of my breast, increasing my pleasure to a point beyond anything I'd ever felt before. I groaned and leaned back against him, feeling the pressure of his body against me, and what I thought must have been his erection through his trousers.

"Oh, Sofia, you have to believe me by now." He continued manipulating one of my nipples while his other hand slid down, reaching for mine, and bringing it back between us, parting our bodies so he could press my hand against his hardness. "I can't fake a reaction like that," he whispered.

I gasped excitedly and for a second, he held my hand against him, pressing our bodies back together so it was trapped between us.

"I'm so turned on, and it's all because of you," he murmured.

He withdrew my hand and slid his own across my belly again. He pressed his mouth against my neck, kissing me once, and then moved his hand lower, diving under the waistband of my panties. It dipped low, immediately sliding over my outer labia, and we both gasped.

"You're so wet, Sofia. You can't fake that either."

He drew his hand out, moved his hand down from my breast, and hooked his fingers into the waistband of my panties, drawing them down with agonizing slowness, revealing me inch by inch, the wispy brown pubic hair and the darker, wet hair that drew our eyes along the divide, slightly shadowed and obscured, but obvious enough to bring a little groan of desire from deep in Nick's throat.

"Spread your legs a little," he said in a low voice. I looked at his expression in the mirror and made my own noise of desire, a whimper of thrilled uncertainty, and shifted my feet apart an inch or two, watching the space between my thighs grow, allowing Nick to continue lowering the fabric to completely reveal my pussy.

He let the thin fabric fall and I automatically shifted my legs as he held them for me to step out. Then his hands were sliding back up my legs and I felt myself wobble unsteadily for a second. I was naked, completely naked.

"Look at yourself, Sofia." He stood behind me again, hands on my hips. "Look at your body."

I did look, and I did see beauty and grace where I'd only ever seen flaws and inadequacies.

I was astounded by my obvious arousal—my tight nipples, the flush across my skin, my quick breaths that made my belly rise and fall, and knew he wasn't just putting me on, he wasn't just trying to get me in bed—although I also knew he wouldn't have to try hard to get me in bed now that something was building inside me and tightening with each touch of his hands.

He was watching me and when I finally looked at him, he smiled a hungry smile. 

"You see it?" he asked, pressing his mouth to my neck once, a small kiss. "Beautiful."

I watched in the mirror as his hand moved between us, felt the heat of his skin moving as undid his belt and the front of his trousers. My own body blocked my view, but I knew by the muffled zip, the softness of the fabric as it went slack, opening and sliding down, aided by his hands, and when I felt it brush against my calves as it passed by on its way to the floor, I made an involuntary noise of desire.

He took two easy steps, retrieving his feet from the pooled fabric, and moved back toward me. I felt my body and mind snap to attention, knowing what was about to happen—wanting it as much as I worried I wasn't ready.

I felt the heat of his skin first, so much hotter than his hand, as he pressed himself against me, then the pressure as he brought his hands back around, pulling me close again, his cock nestled between my ass cheeks. He groaned, moving his hips back and forth a little, pushing himself tight against me. His hands came up as his mouth moved to my neck and he kissed me, clasping both my breasts in his palms.

I groaned in response, and covered his hands with my own, not sure if I wanted to remove them or press them closer as the pleasure overwhelmed me for a second. He pushed his hips against me in return and I felt his cock slide against me, moving forward and back a few times, the flesh of my ass stroking his shaft as he did. 

I turned my head toward his and he kissed my mouth with passion, drawing a breathy sigh from me as he shifted his hands, with mine on top, to take my nipples between his fingers. He stroked them for a moment, and I found my hips moving back against him, pushing my flesh against his. Each circle of his fingers filled me a little more with a lightness, like a balloon expanding inside my chest, pushing against me from inside, growing bigger, more full until I groaned against his mouth and had to clutch his hands in mine, to stop the motion of his fingers.

I felt his hands relax and begin to slip from under mine, the pressure inside my chest slowly deflating. I sighed in relief as both our hands moved away together.

"I want to taste you, Sofia." His hands turned to take mine and he led one low, over my belly and straight down between my legs. I caught my breath, watching as he pressed my fingers to my pussy, pushing them between my swollen labia, groaning as I made direct contact with the sensitive flesh.

"God, you are so wet, baby. I need to taste you."

I squirmed, heard myself whimper, and watched as he ran his finger over mine, pushing two of his over two of mine, diving between my wet lips, stroking up and down for a moment before he withdrew his hand, taking mine again, and brought them both up in front of me. I stared in excited anticipation as it moved higher—his mouth opening as my hand drew near. 

"Oh my God." I moaned as his lips closed around my fingers. I felt his tongue slither and swirl hotly around them once or twice before he sucked, closing his eyes as if he was savoring the taste. My taste.

He moaned too, softly, and then withdrew my fingers and let go of my hand. He opened his eyes and in one fluid movement, slid his arm from my waist, drew back, and turned me to face him. "You taste so good," he said, taking my face in his hands and pulling it toward his. 

When he kissed me I felt a surge of arousal, flavored by my own wetness and punctuated by the hardness of his cock pressing against my bare stomach. I was dizzy with excitement, and keenly aware of how much I wanted him, how much I wanted everything that could happen to happen. And soon.

I pressed against him, wanting to push him backward toward the bed, and he clutched at me, hands now greedy and quick. We stepped toward the bed in an awkward tangle, each of us trying to assert our own needs, to communicate what we wanted without words—our mouths glued together, tongues wrestling for dominance.

We hit the bed together and he fell onto me, pushing my limbs from his body, pinning me, and shoving my legs open to press himself against my open thighs. I thought for a moment he was going to enter me right there and then—his cock pressed hard against the soft flesh of my thigh, but he began to slide lower, releasing my arms, and moving his mouth from mine, kissing lower and lower, down my neck, down to my breasts. He slid his hands beneath me and lifted my torso slightly, pressing my chest upward, toward his face, my nipples pointing right up into the air, his mouth poised just above. 

I tensed as he paused, and watched his lips part. I felt the heat of his breath first, then the pressure of his tongue as he gently touched the very tip of my nipple. It was barely a touch, but the sight—the pink of his skin on the pink of my own—made my whole body pulse. And then he made a circle, painting all around the erect flesh, leaving it just as glistening wet as his tongue, and I groaned loudly.

"Mmm," he said, smiling up at me for a moment. "I love that you're not afraid to show how turned on you are. Not that you could hide it..." He lowered his head again and closed his lips around my nipple, just sucking the very tip once. "With these hard nipples."

He moved his mouth to my other breast and used his tongue to once again circle my nipple, thoroughly wetting it from the tip outward, past the dark edge of my areola, licking gently once before he made another circuit, applying more pressure the second time.

"Fuuuuck..." I heard myself groan as pleasure zipped through me, from breast to breast and down between my legs where it vibrated wildly before shooting back up to my breasts, like a pinball rocketing through me. 

Nick pressed the flesh of my small breast upward, toward his mouth, and sucked it deep into his mouth, making me swear again. I felt his tongue against my nipple, moving slowly and methodically as the pressure of his mouth increased. 

"Oh God, oh my God—Nick." I stared, a little shaken by how good it felt, and watched him as he worked his tongue more quickly against the sensitive flesh, pushing the pleasure higher and higher. He smiled when I let out a delighted squeal and he drew his mouth back, taking my nipple between tightly held lips, stretching it to its limit before letting it bounce back against my body, his hand immediately grasping the flesh of my breast tightly.

He kissed his way to the other breast, moving slowly, his fingers moving to my nipples, turning and tracing them in careful synchronized motions, lifting his eyes to mine, the slightest smile on his mouth as I groaned in pleasure again.

"I never would have guessed you'd be so vocal, Sofia."

I could feel the soft heat of his breath on my skin as he worked his way across my body, his eyes on my other nipple, his mouth opening even before he got there. 

"But I knew you'd be full of surprises," he said, his tongue flicking out in search of the stiff flesh. Once he found it, he closed his mouth over it and sucked it roughly. 

"God. YES," I said , my own excitement surprising me. My hands went to his head, grasping it, holding it still. I felt overwhelmed by the sensation, and only barely aware of my own writhing hips beneath his body, my fast breath, the tone of pleading in my voice. "Oh God—suck me, Nick."




Undone



He reacted with a groan, his mouth opening wider to take more of my breast inside, then the pleasure focused as his tongue pressed hard against my nipple, flicking and dancing frantically.

I grasped his hair in my hands, pressing his face to my breast, and looked down at him. His eyes were closed, his brow was drawn, as if he was concentrating, working hard, and I could see his tongue moving within his closed mouth, stroking and swirling over my nipple.

I cried out again, some kind of curse, and arched my back for a second against him. He released his tight hold on my breasts, let his mouth loosen, releasing my overworked nipple to the air, and pushed himself lower, kissing his way down the very center of my body.

His hands slid lower too, pressing my thighs open, and I had no doubt as he edged lower, of his final destination. I tensed a little, but once his mouth had slid past the edge of my pubic hair and I felt the hot pressure of his tongue against my wet labia I groaned and my hips flexed upward, wanting his touch.

"Damn, Sofia," he said quietly. "You're soaked."

He brought his head lower and I felt his tongue slide over my skin. I knew my wetness was coating his tongue, he was tasting me again, and from his exhalation of arousal, I could tell it thrilled him as much as it thrilled me. He moved his head from side to side, a hand on each thigh, pressing them further apart, and I felt his soft breath on my wet skin, the heat from his mouth as he brought it near.

"You're all neatly tucked away," he said, bringing his hands down toward my pussy. "Another surprise—considering how charmingly disheveled you tend to be on the outside." I felt him pull my outer labia apart and sighed in nervous anticipation; his face was a mere inch away as he slowly drew the fleshy lips apart, revealing the pink, swollen inner folds. 

He breathed in a deep breath and when he next spoke, I felt the heat of his breath again, spreading out over my pussy like a light touch. 

"You're beautiful—so pink and smooth and wet." 

He brought his head closer and ran his tongue along the edges, tracing up and down teasingly, his tongue slick against the bare skin. "Delicate, too—all these intricate folds and furrows." 

His mouth moved closer to the center, his tongue pointed, but still soft, running up and down in long, steady strokes. "And you taste..." His lips moved against my skin as he spoke, and I felt his fingers pull me further open, his tongue dipping between the folds, slipping a half inch inside me, making me groan. "Mmm, your pussy tastes so good..." He pressed his tongue deeper and I could feel him lapping up the wetness inside me. I was surprised by how well I could feel every careful motion of his tongue, especially considering how thick and overheated my mind felt. 

"Oh God that feels so good," I groaned. Then I groaned louder as I felt the more intense pressure of his fingers at the entrance to my vagina. I lifted my head, craning my neck to see and nearly gasped at the sight of Nick's face so close to my pussy. He was watching too, and carefully drawing the flesh away, his eyes studying me more intimately than any man had before. He lowered his mouth again and I watched his pink tongue slide into me, deep into me, his lips pressing against mine—all of them wet.

He licked me inside, I felt his tongue wriggle and press into me, moving deeper than I would have thought possible. And then his fingers shifted and I felt them slide into me too, parting my swollen flesh more, stretching it slightly around his tongue.

I made a noise, a gutteral cry with a loud groan of "Fuck!" tagged on the end, and let my head fall back to the bed's surface while Nick pressed himself even deeper, his fingers now making small movements forward and back, massaging the entrance to my vagina.

He drew his mouth away then and his fingers slid deeper. He turned them, corkscrewing them in and out, working them further inside with each downward motion.

"You're so wet—listen. Can you hear it?"

I stopped groaning and lifted my head, straining to hear over my breath and heartbeat. I saw his arm working, his two fingers plunging into my pussy, squishing wetly each time he entered me. He smiled at me, an awed, aroused smile, and withdrew his fingers. He shifted, rising up slightly, and brought his arm up, delivering his wet fingers to my mouth.

"Taste your sweet pussy, Sofia."

His eyes were bright and excited as he watched me open my mouth. His fingers slid over my bottom lip and parted once they were inside, over my tongue, and I tasted the subtle tangy flavor of my own juicy arousal. I sucked his fingers and saw his smile widen.

He shifted again, moving up toward me, and as he rose onto his knee I had my first glimpse of his cock as it bobbed thickly in front of him, pointing as if it was some kind of sexual divining rod, directly at my spread and soaking pussy.

The next second he was pushing me to the side, rolling onto the bed beside me, and reaching for my face to bring it to his. He kissed me hard, his tongue dipping into my mouth. I thought of how a moment before he'd been tonguing my pussy that same way, and I groaned again.

He pulled me close and my hand fell onto his erection. I immediately wrapped my fingers around it and decided it was longer, and definitely thicker than the one cock I'd known before. I squeezed it gently and marveled at the intense heat. I started to stroke him blindly, the whole time still being smothered by his tongue and kisses, and he reacted with a small forward thrust of his hips, pushing himself closer to me.

"I want to eat your pussy again," he said suddenly, nearly pushing me away. "From below this time, so all that sweetness pours into my mouth."

He pulled at my arms and as I let go of his cock it slapped back against his body solidly. I cast my eyes down to look at it and felt my stomach tense with excited longing. I wanted to taste it, to feel it in my mouth and between my lips.

"Let me suck your cock first," I said quickly, surprised to hear such a bold request coming from my own mouth.

Nick stopped pulling at me for a moment and I heard him let out a long, slow breath. I looked at his surprised face and tried to take advantage of his pause to turn around, to bring myself back to his cock, but his hands held my arms as he stared, a smile beginning to split his face from ear to ear.

He shook his head, let go of my arms to move his hands to my waist and applied pressure.

"Turn around," he said, grinning.

I followed his guiding hands, turning and letting him lift my knee and bring it over until I was straddling his chest, my ass pointed toward his head. His cock lay waiting, but before I could reach out he shifted beneath me, pushing himself lower, his arms cradling my hips from below, pulling me back toward him.

His cock was now level with my face—long and thick and smooth—and I realized his intention just as he lifted his head and I felt the squirming heat of his tongue against my pussy again. I moaned. He moaned. And as my head dropped from the rush of arousal, my face was brought close to his penis. I could smell the now familiar scent of Nick's body and breathed it in as I shifted my arms, propping myself up a little, and took him in my hand.

I stared at his erect penis, only barely aware of Nick's tongue moving in long, slow passes over my pussy, and felt my mouth water. I ran my hand up and down the shaft and brought my mouth to the tip. It shone wetly, enticingly, and I closed my eyes at the last second before it touched my tongue. Nick groaned, his mouth still against my pussy, as I closed my lips around the head of his cock and let my tongue travel the curve softly. For a few seconds I only held him there, stroking the tip with my tongue, licking up each drop of fluid as it oozed onto my tongue. Then I opened my eyes, found I was looking down the length of his cock, my hair dangling around my face, spreading out over his hips, felt his tongue working its way to my clit, and shivered with a rush of excitement.

I started to stroke then, and bob my head slowly, thinking about the rhythm, the pressure, the depth. I listened to his quiet noises, his quick little breaths, and responded with more or less suction, a slower stroke, a lower bob of my head. I held him firmly with one hand while my other hand swept lazily up and down over his scrotum, grazing with soft fingertips, while I held my lips stiff, my tongue tight against his cock, moving my head up and down in a gradually increasing pace.

His head fell back to the surface of the bed and he began to moan softly as I sucked and stroked. 

"Ohh, Sofia. I never expected—" He interrupted himself with a long, low groan. "I never expected you to be—" Another groan, a little wriggle of his hips. "God, your mouth feel so amazing...so fucking good."

He flexed his hips beneath me again, reacting to the pleasure that was building, and I felt a strange pride and excitement well up in me.

A moment later he lifted his head again and I felt a nearly painful pressure on my clit. I had to lift my own head to take in a breath of surprise and heard the sound of him sucking—sucking my clit.

"Oh my GOD," I squealed half from surprise. "Oh God, yes."

He released my clit and pressed his fingers inside me, moaning before I did. "Sofia," he said. "I could drink you."

He brought his head higher again and I looked down our bodies to see him lapping at my pussy, his mouth wide, his tongue scooping and dipping into me. He swallowed and licked with enthusiasm while I returned my attentions to his cock, slipping it back between my lips and sucking it with just as much enthusiasm.

For a few minutes we pleasured each other and the room filled with the layered sounds of our moans and the wet sound of sucking.

He drew his hungry mouth away when I sucked him deeper and for a while he lay panting softly, encouraging me with a voice full of wonder to take him deeper, suck him harder. I loved the sensation of his thick cock sliding over my tongue, oddly different from my upside-down position.

After a while, he lifted his head again and it was my turn to draw back. He stroked my clit with his thumb while his tongue slid all around my pussy, sliding deep, making me groan and press myself against his face. I could tell from the slippery-quick movement of his fingers and tongue that I was drenching him, and from the sounds he was making, it was clear he was enjoying it.

"God, Sofia, I love the taste of you," he moaned, and my head went foggy as a rush of excitement swept through me. 

All at once he pushed my hips up and back and ducked down, drawing his head from between my wet thighs. I had to let go of his cock and catch myself as my balance shifted. Nick turned and crawled backward to the edge of the bed, his eyes shining, his mouth stretched in a wet smile. He reached for me, pulling me by the legs toward him.

"Who would have thought," he said, looking at me with lusty eyes. "You would have such a sweet pussy. I knew you'd surprise me, but God...Sofia." He drew me to the edge of the bed toward him, spreading my legs wide again, drawing me closer.

He looked down and I followed his gaze as he propped my feet on his shoulders and pushed forward so that my thighs spread as his hard cock inched closer. I felt a longing pulling at me from within and it seemed to concentrate deep in my belly—a longing for heat and pressure, for the sensation of being filled. I wanted him to plunge it deep, to fuck me hard and fast and right away.

"I'm really going to fuck you," he breathed as he stared. 

It was a statement of disbelief, and as he moved a hand to adjust the angle of his penis, I saw how entranced he was with the sight before him. But when he lifted his eyes, I knew he'd meant it as a warning too, as an admission of his lust.

I caught my breath and braced myself as he pressed the very head of his cock against the entrance to my vagina.

He held my eyes for a second before pushing forward, filling me slowly but thoroughly, stretching me as he moved deeper. I started to moan. He continued pressing forward without pause, my wetness allowing smooth access to my cunt, until his body touched mine. And then he pushed forward a little more. I groaned louder as he held my hips and crushed his pelvis to mine, filling me as much as he could.

"Fuck, Sofia, it feels so good to be inside you."

I looked up at him, at the lines of determination in his angled face, the warmth and lust in his eyes, and down his body—lean and smooth and toned—to the thick root of his cock that he was now drawing from my body, and for a second remembered his reputation as a seducer of young women. As he drew his hips back and buried himself again I thought perhaps the rumors had just been wishful thinking; who wouldn't want this man to fuck them?

"Fuck me, Nick," I said, and his face registered surprise for a moment before the wolfish smile reappeared and he adjusted his hold on my hips, adjusted the position of his feet on the floor, and began to thrust into me in long, measured motions.

"I knew you weren't the shrinking violet you seemed to be," he said in a low voice.

He rocked forward and back, his pace increasing slowly, the bed bouncing slightly with each motion, and I felt the longing inside me tightening and spinning, tangling itself into a knot.

"I knew there was something about you, something hidden."

He thrust harder and moved a hand to stroke my clit.

"Desire...passion..." He watched my face as he stroked and thrust, his eyes dark and intense. "Lust for more than just numbers. And I wanted very much to find out what it was."

I ran my hands over my breasts, breathing fast as the knot inside me grew more and more tangled and hard. 

He lowered his eyes again and I saw his expression change slightly, his hips moving with more sudden force. He pushed into me a few more times and then drew back suddenly, grabbing my arms and pulling me up to stand with him by the bed.

He walked me a few steps to the mirror and once again I was presented with the image of my naked body. My face was flushed, my hair was messed up, and I wore the unmistakeable expression of arousal. I stared as he pushed me forward and moved behind me, pressing his cock against my ass again. He kissed my neck, his breath fast on my skin, and ran one hand over my body. I followed its progress in the mirror as it moved over my breasts and belly and lower, where he dipped his fingers between my pussy lips like he had before, but parted them, exposing them to the golden light of the nearby lamp. 

His other hand moved behind us, he bent his knees slightly, and in the reflection I saw him angle his cock and felt it slide against my slick sex. I arched my back in response, automatically tilting my hips to take him inside, and his finger moved over my clit as we both adjusted our postures to meet our goal.

"Fuuuck," I swore as he used a hand, flat on my belly, to pull me back against him. It was as much the sensation of his cock filling me as the sight in the mirror—his finger stroking me, my own hard nipples, the glistening wetness of my thighs. And the position—I'd never had sex in this position before, and it was so exciting I couldn't make words of my feelings, I just groaned.

"Look how hard your clit is," he hissed into my ear. He pushed his hips forward and used two fingers to spread my cunt lips. "Look how it presents itself—so impertinently, so impudently..." He ran a finger over it and I groaned. "Like your pretty little nipples." He lifted his other hand and ran it over one nipple and for a moment his fingers moved in synchrony, making me squirm and groan all the louder.

"Ask me to fuck you," he said, his voice a little rougher than a moment before. "Tell me you want it."

I stared, dizzied by his language, the vision in the mirror, and in a half groan said, "Fuck me, Nick. Fuck me, please."

"Oh God, Sofia. I'm going to. I'm going to fuck you in one minute."

He switched hands and I looked down to see him painting my other nipple with the wetness from my pussy. 

"Oh shit," I swore, starting to move against him. "Nick, I need you to fuck me. Now."

I stared at myself in the mirror, scarcely believing I'd just said that. But it was my hips moving against him, my red face, my look of desire and need, and I felt it—I needed it.

"Please, Nick."

He groaned quietly, slid both hands to my hips, dug his fingers in, bracing my body, and drew back to fill me in one rough motion, pushing me a step closer to the mirror. I cried out in pleasure and bent forward at the waist a little, bringing a hand down to steady myself on the low counter in front of the mirror. 

He did it again, two quick rough thrusts, and then he shifted his posture subtly and began to fuck me in more careful movements, his pace increasing quickly, his body hitting mine with a little more effort each time.

"Oh God. Oh yes," I said. "Oh my God." 

I stared at the scene in the mirror as he fucked me, my breasts bouncing, the startling pleasure showing on my face each time he filled me, and it turned me on even more.

"God...you're fucking me." I couldn't believe it—my ability to think was overwhelmed by the arousal that was flooding my brain and body. "Fucking me..."

Nick met my eyes. He was breathing faster, the muscles in his arms tight as he grasped my hips to hold me still. 

"Fucking..." The word sounded so different as I said it out loud, so hard and final, and it thrilled me as much as the sight of Nick's body meeting mine. "...me."

He made a noise low in his throat, his eyebrows drawing together, and then put even more effort into his thrusts. I reached between my legs to touch my clit and gasped as a jolt of pleasure ran up through me making my head swim as if the knot inside me was tied to my clit, as if every pass of my fingers over its slippery surface pulled the knot tighter, straining its center, threatening its integrity.

Nick saw it in my face and reacted by keeping his thrusts even, a little more controlled.

"Yes," I said, watching his eyes as he watched mine. "Yes, Nick! Just like that—don't slow down, just—oh fuck. Yes!"

His brow twisted slightly, but he held his pace, tension in his face as I began to keen, the knot inside me tighter still, straining on the brink of release.

My hair hung wildly around my face, jumping along with my breasts as he fucked me, and I braced myself against the low dresser with one hand while my other hand worked my clit in a feverish rhythm.

I could hear myself moaning and crying out, heard the pleading in my voice as I begged him for more, but the sound seemed far away; my head was filled with my pumping blood and aroused non-thoughts. I stared at the reflection in the mirror like I was watching a dream unfold, and focused my attention on my clit, where so much of my pleasure was concentrated.

The tension was too much; I gasped. I saw my own eyes go wide, my face redden slightly until I finally exhaled, and then the knot slipped—a moment of extreme discomfort dissolved into a throbbing pleasure that uncoiled and filled me with a warmth and softness that pulsed and spread to every inch of my body.

Nick stopped moving when I gasped and above my own astonished face I saw his—excited, aroused, full of lust. His mouth was moving, but if his words made any sound in the room I couldn't hear them. I panted and groaned and stroked myself through to my climax, my cunt squeezing around his cock in strong, quick pulses.

When I finally moved my hand away from my clit and sighed I became aware of the room again—of Nick's body heat, of the scent of his skin, the cool air on my wet pussy, and the layers of our quick breathing as we both continued to pant.




Undone



He drew away from me, his hard cock leaving my body, and turned me around toward the bed again. He took my face in his hands and kissed me softly, breathing fast.

I moaned his name, clinging to him, still reeling in my pleasure. "That felt so fucking good," I said in the middle of a huge sigh.

He grinned and wrapped his arms around me, pulling me tight. 

"I could tell," he said. He kissed me again. "I think the whole county could tell. You were so loud."

"I was?" Embarrassment made me flush, but he reached down and clutched my ass cheeks, pulling me tighter to him and his grin widened.

"Mmm, you sure were."

He kissed me again, ran his hands over my hips and pressed against me until I felt the edge of the bed against my thighs. I reached back to find the bed's surface with my hands and lowered my backside, our mouths parting wetly. He watched me for a second as I slid my hips back, reclined, and drew my legs up. I laid them lightly on his waist, my thighs making a diamond frame around his bobbing cock and my waiting pussy.

He took my feet in his hands and extended his arms out, spreading me wide for his eyes. I pushed myself closer to the edge again, closer to his cock, my eyes locked on the rounded end that bobbed slightly toward me.

"Take me inside," he said in a low voice. 

I lifted my torso enough to extend my hand, grasping his cock, smearing the precum to coat the head, and angled him to penetrate me. I found myself biting my lip in anticipation as I brought the tip of his cock to my body. I felt him tense and I let go, giving him control, letting my hand slide away and my back fall to the surface of the bed again. I watched his face as he pressed himself forward, eyes unmoving as my body softened and spread, giving him access once again to the depths of my vagina.

I ran my hands over my breasts, pleasure and contentment warming me, and watched Nick's expression change subtly as he began to plunge himself deep, draw back, plunge deep again. His brow darkened, his jaw muscles tightened, and the grip he had on my ankles became almost painful, the tendons of my legs stretched to their limit as he held my legs wide.

I inched forward a little more and he groaned, pulling my legs toward him and crossing them into an X across his chest. We both groaned then as my pussy narrowed, my clit and his cock both squeezed in a tight hold. He thrust into me a few times, though he wasn't able to get much depth, the tight hold my pussy had on his cock made him moan, his head dropping heavily as he cursed under his breath.

"Oh my God, that's fucking incredible Sofia." His voice was soft, but full of lusty passion. 

He uncrossed my legs, stretching them wide again and my hips slipped forward a little, my ass just past the edge of the bed. I hung onto the bedspread, bracing myself, and he began to thrust deep again—once, twice, deep and hard, and then he closed my legs again, reaching for my hips, lifting them from the bed's surface.

I grunted as he filled me, going deeper still, and he began to thrust faster and faster. I put my feet over his shoulders, my legs straight, clung to the edge of the bed, and felt him lift me, pulling me toward him, his own body bending so that he was fucking into me with the bed bouncing back at him, helping him hit harder with each forward thrust.

His eyes flashed to mine, wild and wide.

"You've got a perfect body, Sofia. So sexy...so fucking sexy."

He was panting as he continued to thrust.

"The way your pussy grabs at my cock—" He glanced down at where he was sliding in and out of me and groaned. "The way your inner lips flare around my shaft when I pull out—fuck, that's sexy."

He swore, pulling me even further from the bed, and the next two seconds were a blur of motion as he drew himself out suddenly, grabbed my legs, straightened them, rolled me onto my stomach, moved between my spread thighs, and with his hands tight on my knees, thrust himself deep once more.

There was a mutual exclamation of "Fuck!" as he landed deep inside me, and then I had to clutch the bedspread tightly to stay in place as he rocked back and forth, holding my legs as he filled me in a steady rhythm.

I turned to look over my shoulder and felt a thrill run down my spine at the look on his face, his obvious lust. He was watching his cock move in and out of me, and it thrilled me to see how mesmerized he was. He saw me looking, and stopped, panting hard, clearly very close to his orgasm.

He bent, lowering my legs until I was standing, my ass tilted upward. He ran his hands over my hips and ass and started to move again. I braced myself once more, pushing against the bed with my torso, and strained my neck to watch as he returned his eyes to the motion of his cock. I watched him press the flesh of my ass apart, heard him groan, and then felt his fingers dig in, grasping me tight as his pace grew quicker and quicker.

The sight of his face, of knowing what was about to happen, made me shiver. I pushed back against him, wanting him to reach his peak, and he responded with a throaty exclamation, curling his fingers deeper into the muscles of my ass.

"Yes," he said. "Push your ass back against me. Give me your pussy, Sofia."

I squealed at his sudden expressive need, and pressed myself further back, lowering my chest to the bed again.

"Oh fuck," he cried out. "Your ass is so fucking sexy." 

I felt his hands shift, adjusting their grasp on my ass, and then pressure at my asshole, making me startle and turn my head back to look. His eyes were wilder than ever, his face was red, his chest glistening with sweat, and he was pressing a thumb on either side of my anus as he fucked me. I had a second of panic, but he groaned and the next thrust of his hips made me jump and grab the bed to keep from being pushed back onto its surface.

"Sofia..." he panted. "Fuck! You're so goddamned...so fucking..."

He held me tight, not pushing so hard now, but thrusting steadily, his thumbs still pressing against my asshole, massaging it, and I was surprised to find it arousing—I could feel a pleasant warmth building deep inside me again. 

"I'm gonna come, baby." His voice grew more and more tortured as his orgasm built to its peak. "Your perfect pussy...Sofia...oh God."

He thrust roughly once and groaned, holding himself deep for a second before his head dropped, he gulped down a breath, groaned again, and his hips moved wildly a few times.

"Sofia...Sofia," he moaned. "I'm—" 

He never finished his sentence. He didn't need to—I felt him come, felt his cock jump as he shot his cum inside me. He murmured nonsensically for a full minute, hands moving to clutch my hips and pull me back against him, while he pulsed and throbbed, emptying himself.

When he finally stopped panting so fast and pulled himself out of me, he leaned over me, wrapping his arms around my waist to pull me down onto the bed.

"Sofia," he breathed, exaggerating every syllable. "God, that was incredible. You were—you are—incredible."

We both lay back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling for a moment while his breathing slowed. He rolled toward me and sat up on an elbow and kissed me softly for a few minutes. He ran his eyes up and down my body then let his hand follow, grazing my skin with his fingertips. I could feel my arousal flare up; when he leaned to kiss me it surged, and I kissed him back with more passion than he was expecting. He drew back, surprised.

"Oh really?" he said, a smile creeping across his face. He brought his hand to my breast and stroked it teasingly, watching my face. With his eyes on me, I couldn't help but respond. My eyes fluttered closed and when I opened them, his smile had grown even wider. 

"Mmm, Sofia. You have some more surprises for me?"

He kept his hand on my breast, my nipple beneath his fingertips, and kissed me again, slowly and deeply until I was moaning into his open mouth once more.

I looked at him, my pussy aching from having been fucked so many ways, but aching too with a longing for more, and the events of the past couple of hours flooded my memory, shocking and thrilling me. I'd undressed for him. I'd sucked his cock. I'd begged him to fuck me. That had been me.

I thought of my face in the mirror, the lust I felt as he'd thrust into me, the look in his eyes of desire and pleasure. I'd loved it—everything we did, everything we said. And I loved knowing I'd wanted it as much as he had.

"I'm sure there's a mirror in the bathroom," I said. "Let's go see."

He blinked, confused for a half second, and then his grin returned, stretching his whole handsome face.

"Oh yes," he said through his grin. "Yes, let's go see."