Chance Encounter Ch. 12

"I had better go."

"Me too."

"See you around."

"See you."

What she really wanted to do was return to the back seat of his car. They both knew it was highly unlikely they would meet again, much less mess around. She didn't offer and he didn't ask for her number.

They both felt guilty for their deceit. She would make it up to Miguel and spoil him rotten when he came to town.

In the car she was adamant they didn't do anything but talk. She was a shoulder for her to lean on. Their faces told her they didn't believe a word she said. She stubbornly refused to change her story. Since she wasn't talking they changed subjects talking about another man one of them met.

At home Jean went to the bathroom. When she wiped she swore she could smell his cum. She brought the toilet paper to her nose and sniffed. She had never really smelled cum before. She noticed it had a distinct odor. She held her panties to her face. They smelled of his ejaculate.

She stripped and before letting her nightgown fall she admired her body in the mirror. She still couldn't believe what she had done. It was crazy. She vowed to never do it again. She didn't want to lose Miguel. A minute later she promised herself to be more careful the next time. She calculated her cycle. She was certain she was safe.

Under the covers her hands roamed as if they had minds of their own. She squeezed her breasts imagining his hands. She felt restless and couldn't sleep. She pulled her nightgown up. She put her hands back on her breasts, grabbed her now erect nipples and rolled them between her thumb and forefingers just like he had.

She thought about him as she played with her breasts. She shouldn't feel the need to orgasm; the four she had were extremely good, but she needed a fifth. She put one hand between her legs. She ran a finger inside her labia. She was wet. She then inserted a finger into her vagina just like he had. She traced the outline of her hymen. Still a virgin. She felt proud for not going all the way. She had really wanted to. She told herself she wasn't a slut. Miguel was going to be the one to take her virginity when she was ready.

She replicated his finger's in and out motion and with her other hand she rubbed her clitoris. She wondered why she always had to rub so hard to climax. When others did it their touch was so much softer. Miguel actually flicked it driving her crazy.

She still couldn't believe he had used the head of his cock to rub her clitoris. Even crazier was he ever so shallowly thrusting in and out of her. One quick push and virgin no more. He was a nice guy, but she found his change in moods annoying. He was the one who came onto her telling her how lonely he was. He certainly didn't seem conflicted in the back seat.

The funk he entered after climaxing surprised and angered her. She felt guilty but she would deal with it on her own terms. What they had done wasn't bad. They hadn't fucked. They hadn't had sex, just fooled around. Both had needed to feel good.

She climaxed letting her body go completely rigid. She liked the way her feet pointed downward. It was the second best orgasm of the night, the best of course when he petted her using his cock, made even better when she felt his cum hit her flesh. He had ejaculated alot.

She brought her hand up and sniffed it. She detected more than a faint whiff of him. She wondered if it had a taste. She removed her finger from her vagina and licked it clean. She couldn't taste him. She did like how she tasted. She wondered if couples licked each other. It sounded somewhat gross.

Exhausted and satisfied she drifted off to sleep hoping Miguel would be home soon. She needed him to take care of her. She reminded herself she needed to be careful. She didn't want to make him suspicious.

What Jean didn't know was 150 miles away Miguel was also in bed. He had worked the last 10 hours washing dishes, scrubbing pots and pans, sweeping, mopping, and emptying the trash at the restaurant where he worked. He reeked of sweat, soap, and bleach. When he got home he forced himself to shower as he knew he wouldn't be able to sleep until he was clean.

In the shower he dreamed of Jean and making out with her. He pictured her orgasming as he petted her. She had a really nice body he thought. He had seen all of it in the back seat. He regretted it had always been dark, but what he had been able to make out he found to his liking. She had perfect tits. Her meaty thighs he loved the feel of, the skin was so soft. She had a flat stomach and a cute belly button. He really liked the growth of hair above her pussy. It was untamed, thick, and abundant. It reminded him of an Afro, springing up from her skin.

As to her pussy, he loved its feel but what he truly loved was strumming her clitoris and making her cum. His orgasms were good, but he worried they would get carried away. They would be better if he didn't have to wear underwear, but he wasn't complaining. The few times he hadn't climaxed didn't bother him as he really got off to making her cum. Her pleasure was more important than his. He couldn't wait until they were together again. He would write her in the morning.

Their letters were tame but every once in a while she injected a racy couple of sentences. She called her pussy PS and said it missed him. PS she told him stood for Pleasure Spot. He was glad she shared his enthusiasm for making out. Their physical relationship would only get better as they did more.

He soaped up his penis and masturbated to thoughts of Jean, picturing her face as she orgasmed. He climaxed letting his seed hit the shower floor where the water took it down the drain.

After he toweled off he got in bed naked. He liked sleeping in the nude; it was one of the benefits of living alone. He would like to spend a weekend with Jean the two of them in the nude. He wondered what she had done on her weekend. She had been a little upset when he broke the news he wasn't coming home. She had told him it was okay, but he knew he had let her down. There was nothing he could do. He hoped she had gone out. He hated to think of her sitting around the house moping.

If she went out he was pretty sure she had gone dancing. She was a really good dancer. On one of their first dates they had gone to a wedding. At the reception she danced with alot of men. He felt a bit jealous, but he really liked watching her dance. She made even bad dancers look smooth. It was weird seeing another man with his arms around her or her arm around his. He still remembered feeling excited watching her back side, studying her ass. Her dress accentuated her body's curves and the heels she was wearing made her legs look even longer and muscular, but what that additional height did was make her buttocks stand out. Resting above them was her partner's hand. He wondered if he wanted to caress that ass. He shouldn't have but he had jacked off later thinking about that man's hands on Jean's ass.

That was so long ago he thought. He and Jean hadn't done more than kiss. He hadn't thought about that day for a long time and wondered why he was remembering it now.

Then it hit him. At the reception she had danced with him a couple of times at most. He wasn't a great dancer so he didn't mind when she danced with others, but she danced with one man nearly every other song. He wondered if she liked him. When they were in the car in front of her house they talked and kissed. She sensed something was bothering him. He told her what he was feeling and he tried to make it sound as though he understood her attraction and he could give him her number. What he said surprised her. She assured him she wasn't attracted to him, didn't want to date him, and all she wanted from him was a dance. She told Miguel she wanted to date him. She also told him not to sell himself short. It was the first time she noticed he was insecure. It was sweet because she knew it meant he really liked her, but also troubling. He was handsome, nice, and intelligent, but he was full of self doubt.

Miguel drifted off to sleep dreaming of Jean dancing.

When they next saw each other Jean was careful about what she said and did. Her previous Saturday night had only made her love Miguel more. She doubted it would happen again and what she had done was wrong, but it was water under the bridge. The experience after all hadn't been a disaster, just the opposite. She had also learned a few things sexually. She had caught her first glimpse of an erect cock. A man had entered her vagina with his finger and used it like a little cock to fuck her as he petted her. A man had used the head of his cock to rub her clitoris to orgasm. A man had deposited his seed all over pussy. A man had ever so shallowly thrust the head of his cock in and out of her.

Her hymen was intact. She started her period. She learned something new. It opened her eyes as to how little she actually knew. Until Miguel she never knew she could be petted to orgasm or that her breasts were more than for nursing. She never imagined a penis could do what Miguel's finger did.

She also knew she couldn't surprise him with her bag of tricks. She didn't want to make him curious as to where she learned them.