(This story takes place shortly after the previous Serena story "A Night at the Symphony". Some familiarity with Serena from the previous stories might help move the story along.)
I was absolutely right. She did fit right in my lap. I thought she would, so that wasn't a surprise. What was a surprise though was that she seemed to be a mighty aggressive woman who was both femme and barely five feet tall.
Her name was Nan. I had met her after a concert by the city's Symphony Orchestra, where she occupied the position of first flute. I had enjoyed a solo performance she had done as well as meeting her after the concert and having a very pleasant chat. It was only after I got home that night that I discovered she had slipped me her name and phone number.
I had called and invited her to dinner at a favorite restaurant. She had accepted and we had met there as we lived on opposite ends of the city. For the occasion I had dressed up, well, for me anyway. The first time she had seen me I was wearing my tux. I didn't go that far but I did wear nice slacks and a white men's shirt and foreswore my usual sandals or work boots for black athletic shoes.
Nan looked like a little doll, good enough to eat. She wore a simple black skirt with a white blouse. Instead of heels she wore flats, showing that she felt just fine with her five foot nothing height. She was bare-legged and those legs were as cute and well-formed as I had thought they would be. I just hoped they would be long enough to wrap around my waist later.
We had a good time at dinner, and not just because I was thinking how I could position that small attractive body to best advantage. I like my women intelligent and full of conversation. Nan was both. We talked music, of course, something she loved in all forms, from the classical music she performed to Dixie-land jazz, early rock-and-roll and modern country. She poured forth her thoughts with a passion as only someone who loves an art form can. She also listened to my thoughts on my favorite music and accepted happily my repeated compliments on her skill with her flute.
From there the conversation ranged all over. We talked dance, the theatre, art, even politics. We barely paused for the food and a smiling young waitress finally left a full, and open, bottle of wine for us to refill our glasses from as the night went on. We closed the restaurant and kept talking even as the door locked behind us.
The night was warm and we were in no hurry. We had both taken cabs so there were no cars to worry about as we walked the old streets towards my shop/apartment. It took time, but it was well spent. Nan also had a keen appreciation of the Colonial architecture and the history behind the old part of the city.
Off and on during out walk, our hands brushed. Sometimes we walked close together, sometimes my sexy little date would almost dance ahead in her eagerness, and then lag behind to look intently at something. As much as I wanted to wrap her up in my arms, I was just enjoying her company too much to break the spell by any type of pass at all.
Once we arrived at my place Nan had to explore my shop. She darted from place to place, now looking at my metal sculptures, now studying my offerings of Sapphic poetry. She looked at me and said "This is WONDERFUL." Her enthusiasm was infectious and without thinking I scooped her up in a tight hug and kissed her.
She kissed me back. "You're welcome. Now, where's this loft you've been telling me all about?"
Now I know when to lead the way upstairs, since my loft is my living area and, more importantly, my bedroom. Once upstairs I poured us two glasses of wine, which we sipped as I gave her a quick tour. It didn't take long. There was one moment of silence, which she broke before it could become awkward. Taking my wine glass from my hand, Nan, her eyes twinkling pushed me gently towards a chair near my bed and commanded me to sit.
As soon as I did, she hopped sideways into my lap. Her legs stretched and she kicked off her shoes. She took one last sip of wine, quickly leaned over and set the now empty glass beside the chair, holding on to me with her other hand on the back of my neck. Sitting back up, that hand pulled my face towards her and she kissed me. When my mouth opened to hers, she let the wine she held in her mouth trickle into mine. That wine was cool, and yet warm, and tasted of her and of fruit.
While we were kissing I felt her fingers at my shirt front. There was no doubt that she had done this before because it took her only moments to unfasten all the buttons right down to my slacks. Then her hands were pushing my shirt back off my shoulders and she broke off our kiss and lowered her mouth. Teeth took the top of my bra cup and insistently pulled it down until my breast came free. Then they shifted and a warm mouth slid over my nipple and then the rest of my orb.
I squirmed, even as those nimble fingers plucked my bra from my other breast and commenced to roll, tease and even lightly pinch my other nipple. It had been a long time since anyone had paid such rapt attention to my breasts and I was reveling in it. Her mouth caressed my skin and her tongue matched her fingers in bringing my nipples to a hardness that I had not felt in ages.
I don't know why when I have sex that almost always I provide all the fore-play. Perhaps its a butch thing, perhaps its a need to be in control. Whatever it is, the petite woman in my lap was changing my views. She darted back and forth from one breast to the over. She would plunge her face between them, then slide her head down so she could lick under them and even kiss the top of my tummy. Then she was pushing my breasts together so she could go back and forth from one dark chocolate nipple to the other. She licked, she kissed, I even felt her teeth scraping my nubbins.
I was enjoying the attention so much I grunted in protest when she stopped her treatment of my breasts and kissed lower. "Stand up please," she whispered, as she slid completely off my lap to kneel in front of the chair. I smiled. Now that was something I was familiar with and felt right back at home doing. I stood and smiled down at the petite body in front of me as she unfastened my belt and unzipped my slacks.
Normally that's as far as I like to be undressed. I like the sight of just the shaft of my strapon sticking out. I'm not a guy and don't want to be, but somehow is so very exciting. Most of my lovers like it that way too. But not Nan. She drew my slacks down my legs, leaned over further to untie my shoes and help me off with them, my socks and then my slacks.
.... There is more of this story ...