Revenge of the Nerd Ch. 08byrpsuch©
I made New York strip steak rubbed with crushed garlic. I used rubber gloves because I didn't want him smelling it on my hands. I also made candied sweet potatoes which I learned from my grandmother one Thanksgiving when my parents were in Europe.
A growing boy needs his green vegetables my mother used to say, so I added buttered green beans. Actually she used to say growing girl, and it might have been the cook instead of my mother, but you get the idea.
I told him I would clean up and that he should retire to the living room to smoke a cigar.
"I don't smoke," he said.
"It's just a concept. You don't actually need to smoke."
I cleaned up and called him in for dessert, a chocolate cream pie. I didn't make it myself, that would be just a bit too domestic. But I know guys like chocolate, and I read it puts everybody in the mood. He had two slices which made me happy with my choice.
I led the way to the living room. I tried to start my dessert with some kissing. He preferred conversation.
"Did you ever have a really good meal in a fine restaurant?"
I did date the well-heeled and my family was obscenely wealthy. But why is he talking about food when he's got a sure thing?
"Even though people are all the same, we all have basically the same parts, we all have taste buds, we taste things differently, we feel things differently, we smell them differently.
"There are minor and major differences in our reactions to the same things even though we're all human. The same meal will be experienced differently by two people eating at the same time at the same table. It's an exquisite meal but we each appreciate it our own way."
Blah, blah, blah.
"When you eat that meal, they break up the courses. They bring you a sorbet at some point to kind of reset your taste buds so that what you've eaten before won't affect how you experience the next course.
"Sex is like that too."
All right, so it wasn't blah, blah, blah.
"Not everybody reacts the same. Some women have little reaction to stimulation of their nipples, some are driven crazy by it. You can't expect the same things to work for everybody. That's why it can be such an individual thing and you have to take your time to find out what works.
"You also need that little intermezzo between courses, like the sorbet. That's why taking off your clothes last time skipped a step.
"You don't sit down to a fine meal with the attitude let's get this crap on the table and shovel it down already. And you don't whip off your clothes, hop on the bed and say, 'Jump on, I'm in a hurry.'
"I mean sometimes you might, like let's get a quick burger. But that's not the way to savor it.
"That's my general philosophy. I thought it would be helpful for you to understand why I do it the way I do. Maybe it will help you be more comfortable if you know why I'm doing things you may find, unusual."
"I think that may help. So when are you going to jump on? I'm in a hurry."
"Very funny. In just a couple of minutes. My mount will have a degree of difficulty of 3.7 but I will be trying some moves that are as yet unrated by the judges."
"I need to make a stop in the kitchen."
"No comment this time."
I also didn't get started without him. He returned with a bowl of ice cubes and I giggled.
"Just nerves." I said.
We started with the kissing, always a good place to start. This time he ran his hands through my hair and was massaging my scalp with his fingers. It would have been heavenly even without the kissing.
He started at my hairline and pressed with his fingers as he ran both hands to the back of my head and down to my neck. He moved them back up across the sides of my head, always pressing, rotating the tips of his fingers. He did it a few times and then started down my arms. That was when I realized I had been so lost in the sensations that again I had failed to reciprocate at all.
I untucked a different InTime shirt from his pants and pulled it over his head before he could do something else to make me forget that I was supposed to be an active participant.
He was fairly thin but seemed to have some muscle he had kept well hidden from me. I didn't care.
I ran my fingers over his chest. He ran his fingers over mine. He took his time. He took too much damn time. I started to pull my blouse out from my skirt but he gripped my hands to stop me.
"Do you have another appointment after this?" he asked.
"Then why the rush? Would you slam down an appetizer so you could get the meal over with as soon as possible?"
I let go of my blouse. He ran his hands up my sides to my shoulders then across to the center. He unbuttoned one button on my blouse and then moved his hands around to my back. I shivered.
"I wouldn't slam down the appetizer, but if I took as long as you're taking," I said, "I would be ready for another meal before I was done the first."
"That's not necessarily a bad thing in this context," he said.
Back around to the front and there went another button.
This was maddening. While I had the concentration I frantically attacked his belt. My urgency made my attempts as inept as a virgin trying to unhook his first bra without benefit of seeing the mechanism.
His mouth attacked mine with greater urgency. I let go of the belt and put my arms around him, pulling him tighter to me.
In spite of that, he dispatched yet another button. His back was smooth. It felt muscular. I think it did. I don't know. Mostly what I was thinking was get my damn clothes off.
I decided to do the head massage myself. When I finished, I realized there were no buttons left and he was sliding my arms out of the blouse. I pushed him off me, sat up and tossed the blouse away from the bed. Before he could stop me I whipped off my bra and sent it flying.
He laughed and started rubbing his cheeks against my breasts. His cheeks? Where does he come up with this crazy stuff?
I loved it.
He lightly sucked my nipples moving back and forth and then blew on them. I know Rome wasn't built in a day, but if they had progressed at this rate, the empire would never have fallen because it wouldn't be built yet.
I was a little calmer now. I managed to unbuckle his belt and unsnap the button on his jeans. I slid down the zipper.
He was using his fingers on my nipples now but he couldn't arouse them any further. They were as engorged as it was possible for them to be.
He started moving his fingers up away from them, pressing on the top and the bottom. I felt it, a deep sensation, not as intense as the direct stimulation of my nipples, but very pleasurable, like the satisfaction you get from a really good stretch. This was the intermezzo.
I tried to push his jeans down, but I was not in a position to exert any pressure. Mercifully, he started his hands down and pulled on my skirt. I lifted my hips to help him and he removed it but he left my panties.
"Get them off. Rip them off if you have to."
He laughed. I was glad he found this so amusing. I tried again to shove his jeans down. This time he helped me. He left on his boxers.
God forbid we should get naked so he could pound me like a jackhammer.
His hands slid under the waistband of my panties onto my ass and he rubbed and caressed.
He moved further down and I thought he was finally going to attack my lips. He tapped a finger at the bottom of my swampy opening. Just a tap and he moved his hand away.
When this was over I would beat him to a bloody pulp for teasing me this way.
Finally my panties started to move south. I lifted and wriggled my legs forcefully while being careful not to kick him anyplace that would slow him down catastrophically.
He moved up to lie on his side, me on my back, and slid his hand slowly up my leg. The further he progressed, the more forcefully he pressed his fingers into my flesh. He moved up the inside of my thigh headed exactly where I wanted him.
At the last instant, he veered off to the crease where my leg met my torso. He kept up the pressure, moving to my stomach and down through my hair toward my clit. At the last second he veered off alongside my lips.
I screamed. If I were captured by the enemy and tortured like this, I would tell them anything they wanted to hear.
Down the inside of my thigh. Across to the other thigh and up the inside like he had done before. He slowed down. As his fingertips were less than an inch away he stopped and rested the heel of his hand against my hair.
"Please. Please. Please."
He tapped his middle finger against my wetness. It elicited a mournful sigh from me.
He tapped again, then again. I was sure there was nothing I could do to him at that moment that I would not be acquitted for.
He tapped once more and then pressed his finger lengthwise, letting it sink slowly.
I came. It wasn't enough.
He slid his finger along my lips. He reached my clit and put on some pressure rolling it from side to side a couple of times.
I came. It wasn't enough.
A second finger sank into me and then a third.
He maintained the pressure on my clit with the base of his fingers and his thumb, but his fingertips were pressing up against the front wall, or the top, I don't know how to describe it. I was lying down so it seemed to be the top but if I had been standing up, well, whatever, it felt so good I was having trouble staying coherent.
Nobody had ever done this to me before. It was so intense. I was starting to throb and then I was overwhelmed with the biggest orgasm I had ever had. It was starting to get almost painfully intense when he eased off.
It took me a moment to catch my breath.
"What the hell did you do to me? What was that?"
"Inside me. What was that?"
"I was caressing your G-spot."
"Are you sure this is when you want the anatomy lesson?" he asked.
"I'm sure it isn't. I want more."
And then he was slipping down his boxers. Shit! I had forgotten all about him again. Well it was his own damn fault. He had set my whole body on fire and continued to fan the flames.
He eased himself up between my legs and I thought the least I could do was help, so I reached to guide him into me. It was covered with a condom. That hadn't occurred to me. I was on the pill. We would have to discuss this, oh, he sank all the way in. I had been teased enough.
"No more fooling around. Fuck me hard and fast. I need it."
He ignored me.
He tilted forward so that the base of his organ was pressing against my clit. He rotated it, like he was stirring pudding so it wouldn't stick to the bottom of the pot. It was very good pudding. It hit all kinds of different places at different angles.
Instead of stirring, he would start to move in random directions. I never knew what to expect next but all of it was delicious. Sometimes he would change the angle and remove the pressure on my clit for a while and then he would bring it back. Still teasing, just a different way, and it was driving me crazy.
I could feel a really big one building. The angles, the pressure, the constant variation of sensation, were getting to me much more than any pounding ever had.
"Oh, God. I'm going to come. Oh my God. Aaaaaah."
It hit me with tremendous force. Then suddenly the feeling increased exponentially. It hit me like a fucking tsunami. Every part of my body felt like it was exploding. I felt as if I were going to …