Hors d'Ouerve

He invited her to dinner the next day. Maybe they could go to this new Italian place, he said. Of course, she accepted. They would meet in the lobby at 6:30.

In the cab, going uptown, they talked about work. His hand moved across the space between them during the conversation. As he spoke he began to draw circles on the back of her hand, circles that alternated with strokes. His touch was so light, like just breathing on her skin. It was, of course. exactly the way she touched herself and wanted him to touch her, though not in the back of a cab and not on the back of her hand. It riveted her attention. She stared dumbly at his hand on hers, not seeing it, feeling it, feeling her imagination and desire transplant the sensations from the back of her hand to her shoulder and cheek, to the side of her breast and the inside of her thigh.

This process might have reached her nipples and clitoris, which were quite ready to be reached, believe me, except that they were there and had to get out. He escorted her inside and took her to the table he had reserved. They were seated, given menus, orders were taken. She went through the whole restaurant ritual on auto-pilot, until the ice water calmed her down.

After the salad, she opened the conversation with "I'm really looking forward to kissing you later this evening." It was a little scary, starting like that, but it was honest and direct and it brought up the subject she most wanted to talk about.

"I hope you're looking forward to being kissed in return," he replied. "I'm certainly looking forward to kissing you. Kissing is a way of speaking without words, and we have a lot to say to each other. Where do you like to be kissed?"

Various parts of her body all began shouting at once that they should be mentioned first in answer to this question. Her pussy argued strenuously that since being kissed there felt best, it should be mentioned first. Her nipples rose to argue that they should be mentioned because they came first in a physical sense, and would also be a good compromise between the obvious and the sluttish. Her lips said they would get kissed first anyway, so they should get top billing. Her skin answered that since it was biggest it was in the running too.

It was very hard to keep everything straight and answer the question with all of these places getting excited and reminding her brain of just what it felt like to get kissed in one particular spot or another.

She took a deep breath and told all the different parts to shut up for now, that with any luck they would all get kissed sooner or later.

"I'll say the inside of my thigh. It's not the first place and its not the last, but getting there can be half the fun, n'est pas? And you? Where do you like to be kissed?"

He smiled. "Taxicabs, sofas, bedrooms, most anywhere, really." "Taxicabs, sofas, bedrooms, what an interesting progression they make."

Dinner arrived. They talked about how long they had watched each other in the office, wanting to break the ice, but not knowing how. They talked about losing virginity and the importance of going slow. All the while she was thinking about him, how it would feel when he first kissed her, how it would feel to lean against him and press her breasts against his chest. She wanted to know what he would feel like above her and the taut expectation of her first opening her legs to him. And most of all, how he would kiss her pussy and bring her to orgasm with his tongue on her clit.

She excused herself and went to the bathroom. Her panties were damp from her imagining. She took them off and held them clenched in her fist as she walked back to the table. She dropped them in his lap as she sat down.

"I don't think I'll be needing those the rest of the evening and I want you to know what an impression you're making on me."

"I'm equally as impressed, I assure you," he said.

The table they were sitting at had a long tablecloth on it, one that draped down over her thighs. She leaned back in her chair and started talking in a whisper. He had to lean forward just to hear what she was saying.

"Someone looking under this tablecloth right now could really get an eyeful of my pussy, because I'm going to spread my legs and my dress is going to slide up my thighs when I do, and of course you know now that I have no panties on. So my dark wiry hair would be plain as day around my pussy. I can slide my hand along my thigh and through my hair and start to spread my lips apart. Inside I'm very wet already and when I touch my clit my fingers are slick. I can give myself a very soft touch, a stroking, circling touch that's just right. The more I touch myself the hotter and wetter I get and my fingers get wetter and stickier. I usually just keep going on and on like this and when I want to come I start to imagine that I'm getting kissed on my clit by a wonderful man who knows just what to do and how softly I want him to kiss me. But I wouldn't do that right now, because I think you might be that wonderful man, and I want you to be that wonderful man. But I thought you should know that that's the effect your having on me."

She brought her right hand up from beneath the table and laid it flat on the white cloth. The tips of her middle fingers glistened wetly.

He stared at her for a long time. She was afraid he had taken the whole thing the wrong way when he began to smile.

"Let's not stay for dessert."

"Agreed."

Taxi

Outside the restaurant, they held hands waiting for a taxi. "I'd like to take you home tonight," she said. "I have a sofa, I have a bedroom. If one ever comes, we can start with a taxi and see how far things go."

He agreed. Soon after, they flagged down a taxi and got in. They sat close together in the back. As they started through the night traffic she put her hand to his face. His beard and skin were warm to her palm as she turned him and brought him close. She wanted to kiss him hard and show what she was feeling, but she held back at first. Their lips just touched, half open, brushing back and forth. They met again, pressed forward a little, stuck together and then parted, pulling at each other. Several more times they kissed like this, exploring the surface textures of each other. Then she felt the heat well up inside her. Her eyes closed, her hand stole behind his neck and drew him close. With a little animal noise in her throat her mouth opened his, inviting his deep kiss and kissing him deeply in return. This was what she wanted then, more than anything. She melted in the heat of it, her pulse shouted in her ears and thudded between her legs. She felt dizzy, holding him tight in the vertigo of desire.

They kissed through the stop and go of city traffic, through the random lane changes that taxis make in some form a dominance ritual that only their drivers understand. She was very aware of not having her panties on. As they crossed the bridge she broke from kissing him and holding him close began to whisper in his ear.

"Your kisses are so wonderful, soft and slow or hot and deep depending. I'm glad I don't have to fight you, that we can explore each other. I love your kisses on my skin, how you've kissed my cheek and neck, my ear and temple. I want your mouth on the rest of me. Kissing my shoulders, sucking my breast, I know it will feel so good when you take my nipple in your mouth. And I'm desperate for your mouth between my legs. On my thighs like I told you, slowly. Tease me, let me know where your going before you get there. I have dark, wiry hair around my pussy, you'll find out soon. I want to feel my hair tangled in your beard, the little pull and tension on my skin as you move. I want you to taste me, open me and taste me. I've been wet for you since before dinner. I want your beard and mustache wet with me. I know you'll be good to me then, not too hard or rough with me where I'm most tender and sensitive. Just the lightest touch thrills me. I want your tongue to take my breath away with just the slightest touch.

"You know I'm not wearing panties. If we were on my sofa I'd want you to keep kissing me, not play with my breasts or try just yet to take my clothes off. I'll give you my breasts later and the clothes are a game in themselves. But just sitting on the sofa kissing I'd want you to put your hand on my thigh, knowing I have no panties on. Touch me slowly, higher and higher. Keep kissing me and as you move your hand I'll spread myself for you, because I want you to be there, touching me. When your fingers are sticky and wet I want to lick them and share the taste with you. I know you'll have a gentle touch with me. Maybe you'll want to kneel on the rug and kiss me there. I'd be spread wide open then and very ready, ready for you. You could spread my lips and lick the juice off me, I wouldn't want you to stop.

"I have to keep my legs together now, I don't want this whole taxi smelling like my pussy. But you should know that I want you tonight to be between my legs in so many different ways. My head and heart are already committed, everything else follows helplessly."

She hugged him and kissed him again. They pulled up outside her building and got out, tipping the driver generously. She felt the cool night air on her thighs as she got out, a contrast to the hot dampness high up between her legs. She felt shaky on her feet, and leaned against him heavily as they walked into her building. Standing in the elevator, kissing, standing close, she felt a trickle on the inside of her thigh. She shivered. She had told him everything, had revealed herself to him. And very soon she would know that she had done the right thing.

Sofa

Her apartment was dark, but she didn't bother to turn on the lights. She pulled up the window coverings and let the pale moonlight and the diffuse cityglow paint the room pale silver. He pushed the door closed behind him. She crossed back to the door to lock it. She pulled him close and kissed him, tasting him again and feeling his heat. Breaking their embrace, she took his coat and laid it with hers on the old school bench near her door.

She took him by the hand and led him silently to her couch. His hand was very warm in hers. They sat together, with a little space between them so that they could turn and face each other. He put his arm over her shoulders and around her, his other hand held hers with their fingers interlaced. They spoke quietly, with their heads close together.

"Thank you for dinner," she said. "It was wonderful food and delightful company and conversation that was... stimulating."

"The company can be stimulating, too. You were telling me about your pussy, how excited you were. I'm very excited also. It's pretty amazing to hear a woman talk like that, very intimate, very erotic. I want to touch you just right, kiss you just right. Like this."

He touched her cheek with the tip of his finger, as light as baby's breath. He traced a line from her cheekbone to her ear and along the line of her jaw, just making contact with her skin. Then he wet his fingertip in his mouth and touched her open lips. He moistened her lips, and wetting his fingertip again, touched her lower lip in the middle, making the tiniest circles. She stopped him, gasping.

"Oh, yes, that's it, that's just how I want you playing with my clit. Soft and delicate. Use your tongue like that and I'll come so hard, I know it. I dream of being touched like that. When I touch myself I think of being kissed that way, on and on."

He looked intently at her. "Would you show me?", he asked. "Would you show me how you touch yourself? You know yourself better than anyone. I'd love to learn how to do exactly what you like from the one who knows best what that is. Don't just tell me, show me."

"You'd like that?"

"Yes."

She got up and went to sit in the chair.

"I never play with myself with all these clothes on. If you want to see me play with myself I'll have to take off my clothes."

She took off her glasses and laid them on the table. She opened the buttons of her suit one by one.

"I'm going to pretend you're not here. No offense of course. As a matter of fact, its very exciting to be asked to share this with you. I'm going to pretend that I've come home late from work and I'm too tired to turn on the light. I raised the coverings on the windows and I've come to sit in this chair and unwind. I feel a lot of sexual tension because there's this man in the office that I wish I could talk to. Well, more than talk to. He's really attractive and sweet and more than anything I wish I could fuck him and that he would go down on me and make me come with his mouth on my pussy. So I'm tired and more than a little bit horny this evening as I take my suit jacket off. And I think, why not? Why not be nice to myself tonight, I think."

She took her jacket and folded it neatly and laid it on the back of the couch, next to him. Underneath the jacket she had on a white silk sleeveless blouse. She began to untuck it as she continued speaking.