Group Connections Ch. 02

Her look of concern is gone in a flash of her bright smile, and she’s ready for the games to begin. She sets a coy curve on her lips and leans back into the couch, now satisfied that I’m alright. Though she’s trying, and managing very well, to maintain a cool, collected, and calculating demeanor, I can tell she’s been on as much of a ride tonight as I have.

I struggle to regain my composure, and stand up to straighten my clothes. I reach for her hand, and as she slips her palm against mine, I feel her ankle slide up along mine, the soft flesh pressing between the ties of her sandals and teasing my senses. It’s suddenly very obvious to me that her intentions are anything but pure. I feel the combined rush of fear, excitement, and disappointment flood me all at once. I have no idea what to do with myself or her. I drop my hand from hers and continue with the more formal and unnecessary introductions.

I wave to the lone waiter on shift, and he scoots up beside us in the tiny corner. I can tell he’s been watching the two of us, even if I wasn’t fully conscious of it. He’s strategically positioned himself at an angle that allows a perfect view of my breasts, as well as a straight shot down Elizabeth’s scooping neckline. He can’t be more than 18, and his pretty blue eyes almost glaze over at the sigh of real tits. I’m sure if I let him stand here long enough, eventually his mouth with hang open, his eyelids will droop, and a spontaneous ejaculation will soak the front of his neatly pleated black pants. He’s already got quite a bulge going, and my long forgotten techniques of flirting are instinctively switched back on. I never had sex in high school, but I know I had a fair share of guys eating out of the palm of my hand. I figure I may as well warm up my skills on this easy mark. He’s cute, clean cut, and looks like he belongs in a boy band. I’m sure he’s a freshman at the college, because he looks like every other prep school pretty boy that walks into my classes. Sheltered, and sure of all of the ass that porno in high school has promised them awaits in college. I give Elizabeth a quick ‘watch me work’ glance, then turn my full attention on him.

“What’s your name?”

“Uhhh…I uh, I’m Brad. Hi, uhmm, What can I get you ladies tonight?” He’s trying hard to be charming, but there’s nothing about seducing the two eager sorority girls in ‘Slumber Party Part IV’.

I lean in close to him and pick the lint off his collar, letting my fingernails nick at the skin of his neck. His eyes shift nervously between his boss and my cleavage, and eventually land there, studying my tits intensely as though they might have a list of instructions printed on them to tell him how to handle this situation. I drop my hand to his shoulder, then pull my palm down to rest on his chest. I feel his pulse racing, and he looks like a terrified puppy. I stifle a laugh as I compare the two in my mind, and wonder sarcastically if he’ll pee on the carpet if I call him a bad boy too.

“Well, Brad, my friend Elizabeth lives upstairs, I’m sure you’ve seen her before. But I’ve never been out with her. Could you tell me what she likes best?” I purr, using my best sweet husky do what teacher says voice, the one that I use as a last resort when my champion football undergrads refuse work.

“I…I think she usually gets a double latte, with a shot of Bailey’s, half and half, and,” He’s struggling for the rest of her order, and it’s apparent that though he’s served her countless times his thoughts are far from her order. “and a glass of water, with mint.”

I turn to Elizabeth, who is bright red and grinning from ear to ear, trying to conceal her laughter. I nearly loose my cool seeing her myself, and I decide instead to apply my desire to my poor captive. She nods and chirps a quick “That’s it!” before clapping her hand to her mouth and collapsing face first into the arm of the couch. “Well, then, that’s what she’ll have.” I say, still watching her. Her back is bare as far down her spine as her lower back, where the skin is pressed into the couch. Her shoulder blades form neat little triangles in the smooth skin and I can feel my nervous formality giving way to unnatural familiarity. I’m not sure which is better, but at this point in the evening I’m finally starting not to care.

As I turn back to Brad I hear her muffled giggles fade into the upholstery. He’s wisely used his time to try and conceal his now obvious erection down a pant leg. When he sees my face at his again, he’s beet red and his eyes are like saucers.

“Bradley! What ever are you doing?!” I gasp in mock surprise. I cut off his stammering for an excuse by letting my hand drop from his chest and brush past his fly before settling it on the bookcase behind him at the level of his waist. I inch him closer to it, until his back is firmly planted in the shelving and I’m brushing my tits up against him. I lean over to his ear and take a few slow deep breaths, blowing them out heavily on his neck.

“I think I’d like a glass of wine,” I whisper hotly, pressing into him. “pick something that goes well with meat.” At this his poor, tortured member can hardly handle any more, and from the feel of him against my stomach I’m sure he’ll be done if I look at him the right way. Satisfied that I’ve abused the kid quite long enough, and finally feeling more comfortable in my own skin, I straighten up, giving him a smile as he scribbles down the order, concentrating fiercely on the paper as though it were a final exam. I retreat to the couch and can’t help but feel guilty as he scurries as politely and quickly as he can to the counter, slams down the paper and disappears behind the swinging doors to the kitchen area.

I plop down on the opposite end of the couch, cross my legs and turn to Elizabeth who is all but howling with laughter.

“That was just cruel.” She gasps. “he looked like he was ready to cry.”

“Well, he felt like he was ready to pounce.” I roll my eyes sarcastically, “There are 500 more just like him in my classes. Trust me, by tomorrow, he will have fucked me on this very couch after smooth talking me out of my clothes in seconds flat. I must be asked two hundred times a semester whether or not I’m sleeping with my students by someone.”

“I’m sure; of course I can’t blame them.” She winks at me, and I’m suddenly reminded I’m with her, not a mob of my socially retarded coworkers. “You look great. I was so happy when you agreed to come tonight. I’m eager to get to know you better. Oh, What’s this?” I see here eyes drop to my breasts, and she lifts a finger to my chest, pulling in slowly down into the cleft between them. My eyes focus on the carved stone nestled between my tits…I can’t bring myself to watch her. Somehow I doubt ‘getting to know me’ entails anything mentioned in the musical rendition I’m used to. I sit rigidly, breathlessly, as she pulls the charm from my necklace between her thumb and finger, leaving her hand resting cool and casually on my exposed skin.

“It’s the Chinese symbol for love.” My voice, strong and sure only seconds ago has dissipated into a weak, pathetic mew. She traces her fingers up along the silk rope and back to rest on the nape of my neck. Her palm is soft, smooth, and pressing me gently forward. I bring my eyes up to hers, and the intense passion and desire in them is almost frightening. Her hunger is overwhelming, inviting and threatening all at once. My mind races through the endless reasons not to be here and not to do this, but the growing need inside me has already begun to take over, and my imagination surrenders itself to the idea of a night with Elizabeth, rather than a cautious dance around natural tendency.

I rest my hand above her knee, letting the soft green fabric of her dress slip over my hand. My fingers slide towards her inner thigh and I lean into her. Feeling a flood of nervous tension at the thought of her pulling away, I swoop down on her mouth, pressing my lips firmly to hers. My two years of yearning, pain and torture are released in this kiss. She falls back hard into the couch, neck craned back against the edge, pinned beneath me. I lock onto her eyes, watching her expression of surprise and slight pain slowly melt back into hunger as her tongue probes into my mouth. I lick her lips, tasting the sweet glaze of some honey lip balm and bite roughly against her lower lip. Her fingers on my neck grasp at the exposed skin and I feel her nails scratching harsh lines into my flesh. I suck her tongue deeply into my mouth, committing each bump and taste to my memory. Pulling back a little, we sit up together and I slide my hands hungrily up her body, feeling her smooth hips and waist, cupping her large tits, exploring the exotic landscape her figure provides me, that her kisses invite me to occupy.

I hear the clatter of cups on the coffee table beside us, and I’m pulled unwilling back to reality. Any relationship I’d conjured between Elizabeth and I was shattered, and I was simply a woman sitting with another woman I’d never met before, having ‘indecent’ thoughts and now ‘inappropriate’ physical interactions with her. I break away and grab for my glass of wine, staring into the bowl of the glass, wishing I could drown my embarrassment and clumsy forwardness in the dark, rich liquid. If I think I could manage to run out the door without tripping over myself, I would. I sigh heavily, feeling the heat in my body transfer from desire into deep shades of shame and center in my face. Absorbed in my self loathing, I don’t notice Elizabeth sitting up beside me and reaching for her mug.

She sets a hand on my shoulder, and I resist the urge to tear away from her touch and cry.

“Samantha, it’s alright. Did you think I didn’t want you to kiss me?” She’s cooing at me gently, like a mother cleaning up spilled juice on an expensive carpet. I can only manage to turn my face away from my glass and to the window opposite the nook of leather bound books.

“Sam, I didn’t exactly ask you here to play checkers.” She sounds angry now, and I swim in a sea of conflicting emotions and confusing loyalties.

I turn on her harshly, and spit out “Why did you ask me to come then? Hot sex to go, one order of a mousey brunette, delivered?! I’m glad it’s so simple for you to invite someone to your bed. I’m happy that you’re as carefree and uninhibited as you are. I’m glad your beauty and grace have served your needs so well. But I just don’t work like that. My god, girl, I was banging myself into oblivion over your pictures not three hours ago! And now you’re here telling me to do the same in person? You’re not even real to me! There…what’s supposed to…how do I…” I slam my glass down on the table, frustrated with myself and hurting for no real reason. Tears drip down my cheeks without my permission.

“Samantha, why did you come? What did you want? A fantasy? A friend? A commitment? I came because I wanted to meet a fascinating, attractive, intelligent woman who wanted to meet me. Whatever happens tonight happens, and I make no apologies for it.” She was very matter-of-fact, and sipped her coffee casually while I fought with…what? Myself?

Was it really that simple? All I had to do was let go? No social police would bang down my door to carry me away if I slept with her tonight and didn’t worry about what happened next? My heart wouldn’t explode if I let her have me?

I took a deep drink of my wine, looking for courage in a glass. I really did want to let it all go, to just enjoy this mysterious woman and whatever she had to offer me. I wiped my eyes and breathed deeply, forcing back years of formal training and strict ruling, putting away my social conventions and trying desperately to let myself have what I wanted, rather than be what other people expected.

“Elizabeth, could we….I’d like to see your place.” It was lame, it was indirect.

It worked.

She smiled broadly, and all the tension and irritation was gone from her and the evening. “Of course! I’d love to show you around.”