She walked into the coffee house, seemingly happy and care-free, ordered a latte, and then sat down with her Cosmo magazine. The article on "10 things to do to surprise and delight your man in bed" intrigued her.
She was not quite 20, her birthday was coming up in two months, and she was just beginning a new relationship. Bobby had kissed her, and very well too, but she had resisted any further advances. However, she had invited him to her apartment tonight. She had a nice dinner planned, but she expected 'dessert' to be the highlight of the evening -- hence the magazine and its intriguing article.
She knew that he would want her to use her mouth on him, but she decided that she wouldn't let him squirt his icky stuff in her mouth. She might do that someday, but not this early in the relationship. Of course, she intended to let him 'go all the way, ' because she wanted that just as much as he she was certain. On the other hand, if he wanted to do that other thing, that nasty, dirty thing putting it in her bottom hole -- Eeew! -- he was just going to have to forget it. At least she told herself that she had the strength to control the situation to that extent.
She visualized the encounter she planned with him this evening -- kissing, caressing, unbuttoning, intimate parts of their bodies exposed, then touched and kissed, her excitement increasing, his rising, male smells, female smells, insertion, more excitement, her climax, his discharge, and her hope that he will cuddle her gently after the act is over.
She was reading in the magazine about how a man loves it when a girl runs her tongue tip around the rim of his cockhead when HE walked in.
He was dark and rugged contrasted with Bobby's fair hair, fair complexion, and smooth softness. He walked with assurance, exuding an air of supreme self-confidence. As he passed her table on the way to the counter to order his coffee, he glanced down at her. His appraisal of her took but an instant.
He passed quite closely to her table, and she smelled him. The mixture of aromas was complex, but she analyzed the sensation quickly. Soap - no, body wash - probably Old Spice, but his shower had been taken two or more hours ago. Perspiration. He had had some exercise, but the sweat smell wasn't stale. And cunt. Yes, he smelled of cunt. He had evidently just come from taking his pleasure in a woman. A picture flashed in her mind: He was naked with her, a girl who looked much like herself, petite, 5'1", 103 lbs, hair a deep rich red, except that his woman's hair was a soft warm brown. The woman had a soft, neatly-trimmed, and very curly patch of hair at the base of her belly; a downward pointing arrowhead that might just as well have been a neon sign flashing "Fuck Me Here." Did the bright red curls at the base of her own belly give the same message? She grinned inwardly and thought, "I hope so." The thought nearly caused her to giggle. "Why is my pussy all wet all of a sudden?" she thought to herself.
He got his coffee and sat down at a table about half-way across the room from her, sitting in a chair that faced her. His dark eyes fixed on hers and stared.