Little Flippy Skirt

Gritting my teeth, I turned to face her, erection pointing straight up towards her. I could feel myself blushing. Katie came and looked me over again, focusing on the center of my embarrassment. When she got beside me, she knelt down so her eye level was right at my crotch. "You're beautiful, you know that? Will it be OK? Are you OK with this?"

In for a penny, I thought. "Sure. I mean, you don't have one of your own to work with, and mine's right here."

I got to hear her bright laugh again. "You're right about that. As long as you're OK with it." She walked over to the couch. "Would you mind lying down here?"

I did as she asked. Katie adjusted the lights again, pulled a chair up close, and started drawing my penis in its most upright state. She chattered, perhaps a little nervously, as she drew. I never thought of my genitals as a high point of male beauty, but Katie concentrated on them completely. I didn't hear much of what she said, but she seemed to appreciate the sight a lot more than I would ever have imagined. By this point, I was past embarrassment. It seemed almost surreal, to have this gorgeous young woman examining my erection in such detail, and just look. A small, clear droplet formed at the tip.

"My god," she gasped, "that it so beautiful, a little jewel." Her hand reached out, but pulled back without touching. She just stared at it for a moment. The droplet started to fall; a long, clear strand guided it from my penis down to my stomach. It held her attention as if it were the first one on earth.

After a moment, she moved to the far end of the couch, looking directly up between my legs. I knew in only a rough way what she was looking at. It's not a view I ever had of myself. "Could you open up a little more? Here, put one leg up here." She patted the back of the couch. All the attention my erection had gotten a few minutes ago, my balls now received -- looking but not touching. "Wow. Thank you so much. I really never realized how beautiful a guy's," she hesitated, deciding what word to use, "scrotum could be." The medical Latin helped keep it impersonal.

A half hour and half-dozen sketches later, Katie closed her pad. She came over knelt down next to where I lay on the couch, and said "Thanks! That's something I would never have been comfortable bringing up with my regular models. You've given me a lot to work with."

Then she leaned over and gave me a peck on the cheek. She sat back on her heels with a different look on her face, still staring intently at me. She set the pad down, then leaned toward me more slowly. It was a real kiss this time, slow and soft. I brought my hand up behind her head and held it while our lips brushed, and she laid a cool hand on my chest.

She pulled back after a long moment and spoke quietly. "You know, when I draw something, when I pay that kind of attention, I really get involved with what I'm looking at." The hand on my chest moved down to my erection. "You're beautiful, you know that? This is beautiful. And holding it up for me all this time must have been uncomfortable. May I?"

I was too stunned to answer coherently, so I just made some inarticulate noise deep in my throat. Her hand wrapped around my streaming erection, and I pulled her face towards mine again. Her kiss moved across my mouth, lips nibbling lips, touches of tongue-tip here and there. At the same time, her grip on my penis tightened and started long strokes along its length. Loose skin slid easily over the rigid core of my erection.

Katie's attention moved down my throat to my chest, my hand still stroking the back of her neck. Her soft nibbles found one of my nipples, then tightened around a tiny peak. Looking down at her, I saw that a bra strap had slid off her shoulder, down her arm. I moved my hand down her back, then into the open armhole of the sleeveless shirt. When I felt a light scraping of teeth on my chest, I stiffened and my hips bucked upward under her grip.

My body's innate rhythm started taking over, with my hips pumping upward as her hand pumped down. She sat back again, so that I had to withdraw my exploring touch, and her gaze locked with mine. Then I saw that another button or two had opened up on her shirt, showing the low rise of her breast leading up to the cup of a plain white bra. I reached into that opening and stroked high on her chest. My hand moved down, tracing the curve of her upper breast, then through the bra. I cupped it, awkwardly because of the angle, and felt a nub of nipple standing forward.

My pre-come slickness spread over her hand, then her hand spread it back across my erection. I could feel my body build toward an orgasm; my head and shoulders already arched up off the couch. Katie cooed encouragement as my body tightened under her touch, and I caressed the soft curve of covered breast. Then, a moment before I registered what was happening, a smile of happy surprise spread over her face. She gripped with extra strength, just short of what could have been painful. I erupted in her grasp; a jet of semen shot up to my chest. Wave after wave of orgasm pulsed through me. Each one launched a new animal growl from deep in my chest, and a new strand of seed across my stomach. The waves slowly receded. I had nothing more to ejaculate, but my erection still pulsed in her grip. Eventually, even that quieted and I started to soften in her hand. I lay back, panting, too ecstatic to talk.

Katie got up and came back with a roll of paper towels. She wiped up most of the white blobs, leaving only a sheen that I'd have to wash off later. Then she just sat there, one hand on my thigh and looking at me, apparently unsure what to say.

I sat up against the arm of the sofa, one leg against the back of the couch and my other foot on the floor. Still naked, I patted the couch between my legs. "You come here," I invited. "I just want to hold you for a moment." The only way it worked was for her to lean back against me. I scooted her up so her head was almost in front of mine and wrapped my arms around her. She crossed her arms over mine and relaxed into me.

One of my arms lay across the open midriff where her shirt was tied off, and I luxuriated in the feel of her skin against mine. I leaned down and nibbled an ear with its fringe of hair. She purred and stretched in my arms, like a cat being petted. I let my lips work along the rim of her ear, down to the lobe, then across her shoulder. One of my hands moved up to cup her breast, outside the shirt. Her hand over mine gave permission. I found the gumdrop nipple again, and clasped it in the 'V' between my thumb and hand.

Katie continued her happy purring. I released soft curve, then toyed with the edge of her shirt, where open buttons exposed nearly half of each breast. Her hand still covered mine, and welcomed my exploration under her shirt. At the same time, fingertips of my other hand traced the waist of her cutoff shorts. I found a loose spot or two, where my fingers could reach in a little, but the shorts were too snug to allow my hand entry. Instead, I caressed her through the soft denim, and ran my touch along a smooth expanse of thigh. Her legs parted a little more, letting me know that this was OK, too.

My other hand shifted again, high on her chest, and under the narrow shoulder strap. I slid my hand along the incredible softness of her breast, and under the edge of her bra. Katie gave a happy moan when I did, and rubbed the side of her face against mine.

As I worked my hand deeper under the cup of her bra, I had a flashback. It must have been twenty years ago, when I was a clumsy teenager fondling the first girl who let me touch her breast. That was the first time I felt that, the stiffness of bra cup against the back of my hand and softness of breast against my palm. The clumsiness was gone, most of it, but the wonder of a woman allowing this first, discovering touch was just as fresh now as it was then.

At the same time, my other hand played around the edges of her shorts and across the zipper. I massaged the curve of her mons through the heavy denim. I was kissing Katie's shoulder and looking down at the warm swell of her bust, when I saw her hand go to her shorts. She opened the button at the top of the fly, and I heard the zzt sound of the zipper. Then her hand went back on top of mine, usually following but occasionally nudging me toward the feeling she wanted most.

My heart nearly stopped -- the moment had arrived for her, the one where she chose to go on wherever we were going. She had decided I was worth taking the chance, that she could trust me with her body. My fingers entered the open denim flaps, across the smooth skin of her belly. I massaged the pressure mark that tight clothing had left in her softness. Soon, I encountered the band of her underwear and ran my finger along it. Katie seemed not to be in any rush, so ran my hand across her mons, outside of the clean white cotton.

The curves low on a woman's belly fascinate me. I traced the bulge of her mons with the flat of my hand, then found that tiny arch where the labia part. I pressed gently with the ball of my finger, feeling the perfect match of that roundness to her body's inward curve. Farther down my finger followed the split between her labia, held closed by the snug panty. Katie opened her legs to me and I reached farther down. The private spot low between her legs remained hidden from sight, under the shorts, but accessible to my touch. A warm, womanly scent rose from her opened shorts, clouding my mind almost like a whiff of opium. I let my hand continue mapping out the landscape between her thighs.

My hand on her breast, in the mean time, cupped that handful of warmth inside her bra, its firm nub in the palm of my hand. The bra's constriction kept me nervous about pinching that delicate skin each time I shifted my hand. I withdrew, found the lower edge of her bra, and lifted it past her breast. I could never have done that with a heavier bust, but it snagged for only a moment as the seam lifted past her nipple. She shivered when it did, then settled back against my bare chest. Her breast, finally free, sank into its natural curve. I lifted it in my hand, and took her nipple between the tips of my thumb and finger.

Down lower, I had started to trace the edges of her panty with my finger. A loose spot low between her legs allowed a small incursion of my skin against hers. I probed the soft, furry outside of her vulva briefly, then again from the other side. Every other part of that seam pulled too tightly against her to allow easy exploration. Up higher, I stroked her belly again, then started under the elastic waistband. It stretched easily to allow my hand, pressed flat against her mons.

Her labia felt warm and pillowy, thickened by her body's response to my touch. I touched the crevice between them, not to enter but to feel their fullness. Up higher, near the top of her genital fold, I pressed with the flat of my hand. Deep underneath, against the firm bed of her pelvic bone, I felt that magical crease -- her clitoris, thick and high enough to feel even through the padding around it. Katie's breath came ragged as I massaged that softness, feeling the crease shifting under my touch. She writhed sensuously, in slow motion, as commands relayed outward from her clit to every part of her body.

I moved the flat touch of my bunched fingers lower, to that deep softness at the lips that guard her vagina. Her body hadn't opened yet and I wouldn't rush it, but I pressed inward against her labia, drawing small circles of deep pressure around her body's opening. Katie had kept her hand on top of mine, even though hers was outside her shorts now and mine touched her skin. She pressed when I did; perhaps that gave her some deep, feminine sensation that I could only guess at. She didn't resist when my hand returned to the top of her vulva, though. Each special spot seemed hungry for touch of its own, and demanded attention by turns.

Moving upward, I let my finger open her labia just a bit. Barely the first joint of my finger entered, opening without penetrating. My finger circled low, feeling a slickness begin to form, then anointed her inner folds. I returned to that low spot a few times, gathered the dew collecting within her body, and spread it upward. Katie's thighs had parted even more, opening her to me fully.

At last, I rolled my finger in her body's balm, and smoothed it along the tiny shaft of her clitoris. Katie's breath stopped, her eyes fluttered closed, and her whole, strong body trembled around that one touch. This looked like too much, like I had pushed her body past where her excitement had taken her so far. I stopped where I was and pressed firmly, as I would if I accidentally tickled her. She didn't fully relax, but her body found its way back to the healthy tension of arousal. Once her breathing evened out a bit, I shifted my touch.

Only that one finger sank between her labia. Keeping my touch light, I worked up along her clitoris, away from the tingling sensitivity of the tip. I rolled the tiny shaft side to side, and the tension deepened. Her hand on mine made some gesture I couldn't quite read, so I tried a different touch. Up and down the side of the clitoral ridge, one side then the other. This wasn't her either. I tried fast, light flicks at the back of the little crease. Her hand froze over mine, not holding tight but not allowing it to escape, either. Her shoulders pulled together and one leg stretched out straight, toes pointed.

Katie's breathing got ragged as her hips sank deep into the cushions, then let out with a rush as she relaxed. Her hips pressed deep again, as I continued that tiny, fast touch, and worked into a steady, slow rhythm. Her eyes hadn't reopened; only touch mattered in her world now. The tempo of commands from her sex to her rocking hips seemed not to change as her orgasm loomed closer. Instead, each silent command spoke more loudly to her body, and longer, and with less respite between.

At some point, there was no respite. The orders that held her body taut never let her go. Each new command came before echoes of the one before had died away, and called even more insistently to her inner ear. At that point, I let my touch turn firm. I gripped her nipple more tightly than I would have dared earlier, and whispered her name over and over, with occasional lovers' nonsense mixed in. She wrapped her arms around my arm, clutching me so tightly my elbow started to warn me about the pressure. As long as her body kept responding, I would be there for her. It kept responding, and responding, and responding. Her orgasm seemed like it would go on forever.

The waves receded after a while, and I lightened my touch again. Aftershocks came at irregular intervals, and I teased each one to extra height. Gradually, they came smaller and less often, until they were lost in the tremors of her body regaining control. I still held, though. Some little core of tension seemed to remain. I pressed her clitoris with firm, even pressure -- not to excite, but not to let excitement end, either.

Katie's eyes opened and blinked, and she unwound herself from around my arm. She looked up, over her shoulder, into my eyes, and pulled me down for a flurry of wet, imprecise kisses. When she could speak again, her husky voice rasped, "That was incredible."

I smiled and asked, "What do you mean, 'was'?" My fingers on her clitoris started again, this time stroking its ringing tip. Katie's smile froze, her breath locked in her throat, and she gripped my arm again. I backed off for a moment, so she could catch her breath, then rubbed her clitoris again. She rode my hand, again and again, to quick, sharp heights. After a while, her breath took on a sound that told me more would be too much. I just held her as the last orgasm unwillingly released her back to the real world. I softened my touch by stages and withdrew. I hugged her close, feeling her bra bunching oddly under my arms.

There was almost an edge of happy tear in her voice when she tried to speak again. "Jake, that was ..." Words failed her. She hugged her arms tight around mine and rocked between my bare legs.

"I saw what it was. I held it in my arms. Katie, I have never seen a woman come like that before. Don't even try to say it. It was -- you were the hottest thing I could ever imagine, if I could imagine that much."

"Jake, thanks."

"No, thank you Katie, for letting me be a part of that."

There was a little post-coital awkwardness as we put ourselves back together. I didn't bother with the screen as I got my clothes on; Katie didn't bother to hide the adjustments that put her clothes back in order. I stopped her, once, to kiss her nipple goodbye before her bra concealed it again. She laughed that sparkling laugh again, and indulged me. ---- Writing my review of the gallery opening took four times longer than a piece that length ought to. Memories of her shattering series of orgasms kept coming back to me, and I kept having to push them away from the keyboard. Katie emailed a grateful message when my enthusiastic review came out. We exchanged a few more messages, but busy schedules made it impossible to get together again.

Then she sent another email, a week later, inviting me down to the studio to see a new painting. She met me at the studio building door, wearing that dress with the flippy little skirt and those sandals with complex laces again. I discovered a matching panty under the short skirt as she led me up the stairs (a built-in panty, I later found out), and just managed to keep myself from grabbing her right there. Her working easel stood in the center of the room, holding a large canvas with cover apparently made from an old sheet.

She stood next to the covered canvas, as bubbly and eager as she had been at the opening. "I though about what you told me, 'Don't even try to say it'. You're right, you know. I'm not a words person. I'm a visual person. Here's how I had to say it."

Katie tugged the cover down, and the painting stood revealed. The dense imagery took me a moment, but I made out a ghostly figure of a seated woman, head thrown back, seemingly illuminated from within by a brilliant flame low in her belly. As I looked closer, the taut muscles in her abdomen suggested an orgasm about to burst within her. Behind her, shifting figures filled a twilit background. None of the background figures ever became clear enough to identify clearly. The seemed to twine together, though, in a complex and continuing chain of bodies intimately coupled. Nothing in it was clear enough to be explicitly sexual, but my erection was already out of control.

Katie stood next to me while I took it all in. After a while, I realized that her hand had settled lightly on my erection. "You like it?" she asked, like a little girl looking for approval.

"My god, it's perfect. You said it perfectly."

She turned me toward her, threw her arms around my neck, and gave me a huge, sloppy kiss. Then she hopped up and wrapped her legs around my waist, still hanging from my neck. I cupped her beautiful bottom to support her weight, staggered over to the couch, and almost fell on top of her when I set her down.

And you know what? It's amazing how easily that dress with the little flippy skirt comes off.