Chapter 9: Seventh Visitation: The Ballerina

friday, june 23

Friday night I dress myself in accessible pants with a button fly that goes on to below my ballsack, t-shirt with slits and of course commando.

Just in time, I sit at the long table on one of those high stools in ‘tapas, now!’ when in the doorway, with the sun at her back, Jenny enters in a thin summer dress. No, she floats! I drink her, her slender body, long ballet legs, mildly undulating bosom and handsome face with dramatically wavy dark hair, in dangerous backlighting...

She walks up to me with tapping heels and kisses me passionately under envious glances around us. Gerda, the barista, strokes her ass “tapas for two? tawny port for you? and Ben another beer?”

“No, make me a tawny too, kisses taste better with a similar taste.”

Jenny adds “ Bring ‘tapas erotica’ with a touch of Spanish fly. i want him hard and eager, tonight.”

“So you don’t have your rabbit with you?” I ask.

“No, you have a kango drill hammer, right?” with a squeeze in my hard crotch.

Then we take little bites and feed them to each other between stolen kisses. Have I only known her for a few minutes? She makes me hard and longing, hot in my lower belly.

“Do you feel those tapas below your belly button too? Or is that our flirting? “ and I kiss her in her neck.

I gesture to Gerda to pay, she waves no with flat hand “will do! You go and multiply, or use a condom.”

♀♂

We walk out hand in hand and to the cinema. She holds up her smartphone showing the reservation and we enter the theater. A double-seater awaits us. I didn’t see much of the movie, we kissed and our hands were exploring.

Her dress has slits under her sleeves and I find her small breasts, pronged nipples. She has to laugh at all the buttons on my fly, when undone with delicious fidgeting, felt through that thin fabric. The extra long fly gives my balls room for teabagging and letting her play with them.

I leave her vulva alone and my rod she does not touch. We are very slippery and wet though, but you have to keep craving ... She feels the little nipples on my chest grow larger under her careful fingertips.

The credits end our frolicking, we go outside into the cool evening and walk to my apartment. A candlelight dinner is set, candles lit, and in a slender tall vase a white, slightly blushing lily and a crimson rose, half out of bud, peeping out of its foreskin like a glans, on to the peak of their orgasmic bloom.

We sit and Sandra, modestly and chastely dressed, scoops us up a bisque d’hommard. She surprises us with a present, pork tenderloin in puff pastry, artfully folded and risen like an excited cunt. The cream cheese spills out in a slow stream. We slice it and put the morsels in each other’s mouths. Baklava with lapsang souchong to finish.

♀♂

Sandra is already gone when we lie down on the round play bed against each other. With my smartwatch -I’m getting handy at it- I put on that wonderful music, the Baïlèro by Canteloube: ([xv])

Pastrè dè délaï l’aïo,
As gaïré dè buon tèms?
Dio lou baïlèro lèro, lèro, lèro, lèro, baïlèro, lô!
È n’aï pas gaïré, è dio, tu
Baïlèro lèro, lèro, lèro, baïlèro, lô!

[Shepherd on the other side of the stream
Are you having a good time?
Sing baïlèro lèro, lèro, lèro, lèro, baïlèro, lô!
No, I don’t and you can sing too
Baïlèro lèro, lèro, lèro, baïlèro, lô!]

Pastré lou prat faï flour,
Li cal gorda toun troupel.
Dio lou baïlèro lèro, lèro, lèro, lèro, baïlèro, lô!
L’èrb ès pu fin’ ol prat d’oïçi,
Baïlèro lèro, lèro, lèro, baïlèro, lô!

Shepherd, the meadows here are in bloom.
You must let your flock graze here,
Sing baïlèro lèro, lèro, lèro, lèro, baïlèro, lô!
The grass is greener in the meadows here,
Baïlèro lèro, lèro, lèro, lèro, baïlèro, lô!]

Pastré couci foraï,
En obal io lou bel riou!
Dio lou baïlèro lèro, lèro, lèro, baïlèro, lô!
Espèromè, tè, baô çirca,
Baïlèro lèro, lèro, lèro, baïlèro, lô!

[Shepherd, the water separates us,
And I cannot cross it,
Sing baïlèro lèro, lèro, lèro, lèro, baïlèro, lô!
Then I’ll come and find you,
Baïlèro lèro, lèro, lèro, baïlèro, lô!]

Jenny knows the song and when it’s finished “You don’t just spin this, what do you mean by lying here listening to this together?”

“Laura, my dead lover, got so into the mood of it, it gave us peace before we went wild on each other. I have deliberately not dared to listen to it since ... But you are so quick so close to me, I want to try.”

I kiss her, no, I eat her, lie on her and let her belly feel my hardness and desire. “Jenneke, Jenneke, Jenneke, what are you doing to me?”

The naughty summer dress comes off over her head, and she now lies seductively exposed. I am out of the few clothes in an instant and we scurry against each other in our nakedness, enjoying warm intimacy.

Then I explore her body with my mouth and kiss her wherever I can touch her. Her prongy, but not too large breasts poke out of their pink areolas with hard nipples. They curl as I blow them dry from my licking...

Reaching her belly, she does the full split she promised me, never before have I been able to love a vulva like this. So full and fragrant, all the way in, convex lips and tight ridges from clit to sheath.

I stretch so she can play me too. She traces the seam of my sack with a finger, up over the ridge, along the overlaying veins, onto its spout and down into my foreskin, where she finds my slithering glans. “If I were a boy, this would be called docking, isn’t it?” She goes around in it with her tongue, mmmmm.