Courage and Caution


Eventually the need for breath caught us. We withdrew from one another reluctantly in flurries of butterfly kisses.

He clutched me tightly and buried his face in my neck. With the tip of his nose and the slightest suggestion of his lips, he tenderly caressed my nape. Then he pressed a single kiss onto my neck, just below my earlobe. His lips grazed my ear, his breath hot against the chill of my skin. He kissed my earlobe, plucking it gently with his lips, then teeth. Then he sucked softly on it, so that I trembled from head to toe.

A kiss alone had never woken up my body like this before. Everything felt heightened. I shivered with his every measured touch.

Our mouths drifted inevitably back together, tongues twisting with a fraction more urgency. A pulse shuddered between my legs. I pressed my hips into his and was further teased by the emerging heat behind his jeans. I could have just kissed him forever. But I was overcome with insistent desire.

"Can I undress you?" I breathed heavily into his ear.

"Yes," a deep kiss then, "if I can undress you?"

"Yes," I purred. And our hands fell the joyously awkward task of thumbling with zips and buttons, laughing lightly into each other's lips as we unwrapped one another from our layers of garments. It was freezing. Down to our underwear, with trousers still coiled hazardously around our ankles, we pressed the warmth of our bodies tightly against each other. Through his boxers, his cock was no longer a mildly suggested heat source, but a rod burning against the black cotton. My heart quickened. My nipples, contracted to points by the cold, pushed out visibly under the lyrca sports bra. Davey's hands cupped my breasts through the fabric, running the palms of his hands over those small peaks. I made an encouraging sound and he slipped his fingers under the elastic, rolling the bra up over my tits, but not over my head. He massaged his thumbs over my hard nipples, teasing and twisting them this way and that. I bit down on my bottom lip.

"Are you sure you're not too cold?" he whispered, "We can stop?"

"Please don't stop," was my breathless reply.

He slipped my knickers down from my hips with both hands, shimmying them to my knees. He clasped my hips in his hands and lowering himself to his knees, nuzzled his face against softness of my navel. Knelt before me, eyes half-closed, expression serene -- he might have been in prayer as he decorated my stomach with his kisses. His lips trailed lazily downwards, pausing at the last instant before my neat patch of hair. Then his warm mouth was buried against the smoothness of my inner thigh, kissing my brown skin with that same tranquil devotion. I gripped his shoulders softly, steadying myself as my knees weakened. A small, blissful sigh drifted from my lips, and was lost in the vastness of the library.

For second, I considered how crazy it was that any of this was happening. Then the heat of his mouth enveloped my clitoral hood and I was without thoughts. I leant limply back against the bookcase. I was soaking, my whole pussy hot and throbbing. His mouth on my sex was the only thing that existed. Heat. Pressure. Pleasure.

He suckled upon my sensitive bud, tongue swirling. I started to pant quietly, my fingers curling a little more urgently around his shoulders. Each orbit of his tongue around my clit sent sparks through my nerves. I moaned softly. Whispers. Sighs. Prayers.

I gazed down at him, his eyes were closed lightly and his expression was placid, the corners of his lip turned up slightly. He was lost in his work, wholly engrossed pleasuring me. I closed my own eyes. Every movement of his tongue sent a blissful shiver through my pussy. I moaned audibly. Soft, hot, wet. He responded with paired fingers parting the petals of my vulva, brushing softly over my dewy slit. His tongue still toying with my aching clit, he slid those beautiful fingers -- fingers that I had admired so longingly from my illicit hiding-place -- slowly into me. My juices flowed over his hands and face. I was helpless. Swaying on weakening legs and grinding my hot sex against his lips.

Davey's fingers danced inside of me. Fluttering upon my g-spot. Coaxing. Beckoning. I felt a flush of heat run through me.

A warning shot.

His mouth still enveloped me.

My clit shuddered.

My walls clenched.

The heat engulfed me again.

I cried out in delight, convulsing as I came. Those electric seconds felt like thunder.

My fingers threaded through his hair, I held Davey's face against my thigh as I weathered the storm he had brought me. He kissed my skin. My heartbeat and breathing slowing, I sunk wordlessly to the floor to sit beside him. With our arms around each other again, I kissed him deeply, tasting myself on his lips. I felt that I couldn't get close enough to him, even as my tongue entered his mouth and my breasts were crushed flat against his chest.

I finally pulled the sports bra off over my head and freed my feet from my heavy boots so that I could take off my camouflage trousers, socks and underwear. The floor under my feet was so cold that I immediately stood on the pile of my own clothes rather than touch the floorboards. Goosebumps broke out across my arms and legs. My breasts pinched themselves into pinnacles. I should have felt so vulnerable; I was naked, exposed and shivering in the dimmimg torchlight. With him, I felt safe.

"You're so beautiful," Davey sighed, simple words that caused me to stand a little straighter and lift my chest a little higher.

"Thank you," I said, feeling the truth in his words. I felt beautiful.

He rose from the floor, now also undressing.

His pale body, sinuous and lean, was beyond anything I could have imagined as I had watched him from afar. He was a perfect composition of sharp contours and soft plains. His narrow frame inhabited a kind of graceful masculinity, he wasn't muscle-bound, but there was certainly strength in the neat cut of his calves and abs. The sculptural lines of the pronounced 'v' shape of his lower abdomen lead my eye to the curls of dark hair that shadowed his thick hard cock.

"We can keep going," I pleaded, eager for the return of the warmth of his body against mine.

He gave a small nod, but started to rummage through the pockets of his jeans. He produced a condom, showing himself to be more prepared than me in this singular respect.

"Are you sure?" he asked quietly, "I don't want you to regret me,"

The questioning was a sweet kind of agony. I had no indecision, but each time Davey asked, he proved himself again to be the person that I had judged him as. Respectful, caring, considerate.

"I'm sure," I promised him.

I took two small steps away from him, until the backs of my thighs bumped against one of the mottled study desks. Davey remained perfectly in step with me, as if magnetised to my body. His eyes fixed on mine, full of longing. I slid my backside onto the desk, shimmying backwards until I was sat quite comfortably. He kissed me for a moment; his mouth was still so warm against the wintery air. His hands lightly cupped my face again, before traveling, tentatively down my shoulders arms and back.

My hands were a little more certain, grasping at his pale hipbones and pulling his waist towards mine.

With one of his beautiful hands gripping the back of my thigh, he pushed my leg backwards so that my knee rested almost on my collarbone, leaving me widely parted. My other leg hung listlessly over the edge of the desk. One of my hands rested in silhouette upon his chest, the other toyed indulgently with my clit.

He pushed the head of his wrapped cock into my wetness. I stretched around him, moaning softly as he slid deeply, then still deeper into me. I twisted and sighed a little, letting the full feeling start to overwhelm me. It was so good to be so fulfilled.

He withdrew, just a touch, and then began a slow, but firm, rhythm.

I loved the sound of his laboured breath. He was so controlled, even as I pushed back against him and rolled my hips. He didn't speed-up. A fire was building in me. Pulsing flashes of pleasure in my clit. His gaze was purposeful. My fingers worked frantically, rubbing my aching bud with frenzy. He still didn't speed up. He fucked me no faster. His hips thrusting in deliberate, powerful motions. I was beside myself, fingers strumming urgently. His strokes reached deep, meeting my g-spot over and over. I felt myself beginning to slip out of my thoughts. My body was quivering. I shook with need.

The torch went out altogether. He stopped. All I saw in the dark was an ethereal blot of colour where the light had been. It wavered before my eyes no matter where I looked. I felt dazzled.

Davey folded my other leg up onto my body, so that I was symmetrical,. Then, stroking my calves to find his way in the dark, he gripped both of my ankles. Running my fingers down his arms, I clasped my hands over his hands. I wanted so badly to be anchored to him; I couldn't bear to lose him in the darkness. His hips met mine and he slipped easily back inside of my wet depths. I felt full again. His strokes quickly picked up speed and become rapid. He plunged into me, his body wound tight with tension. I imagined his brow furrowed with the effort.

As my vision adjusted, I found the glint of his eyes and glimmer of his skin in the pitch dark. He gave and he gave. Sweat dripping from his body in spite of the chill. I panted and moaned with the exertion of receiving him, my pussy squeezing desperately. I felt him quake in response to my aroused sounds, nearing his tipping point. I gripped at his tattooed arms. I gave him every sigh and squeal he wanted, and he worked all the harder in return. I called out for him over and over, my cries echoing in the hollow of the library. Heat and gratification rushed through my body. I was completely helpless to my own trembling electricity. The sheer delight and pleasure.

With a reflexive shudder and a small gasp, his lightning struck the earth and he came.

We stayed locked tightly together for a moment, sharing a kiss before he carefully withdrew. He kissed my knees and thighs, stomach and breasts. Then he lay back on the desk beside me, breathing heavily. The sheen of sweat coating his face and flattening his fringe to his forehead. His smile luminous even through the darkness. I reached out for his hand, lacing our fingers together and holding the bundle against my breast. My heart was still fluttering. I was utterly content.

"There's one more thing you should see before you go," Davey said, "How do you feel about heights?"


We emerged by phone-light through a difficult gap onto the library roof.

Hoods up, we huddled closely in the mizzling rain.

"I forgot how grim it was," Davey apologised. "I thought there'd be stars, and I'd make a corny speech about how this has been the most beautiful night of my life and you be really impressed."

I smiled sympathetically.

"You could still make the speech," I suggested, half-joking, half-yearning to hear it more than any other string of words that might exist. He hugged me more tightly.

"Zoe, this has been the most beautiful night of my life." he repeated, his lips right at my ear.

We kissed in the rain. As oblivious of the town stretched out below, as it was of us.

The sunrise was unassuming. The sky shifted by degrees from bruise-black to indigo-blue. Traffic rumbled. Early morning lorries and post vans. The streetlights were all still on. We followed deserted pavements past taxi ranks and bus stops, delaying parting, unwilling to allow the spell of the night to break. Until we reached my single bed, clambered in fully dressed, clutched each other close... and slept right through the first of November.

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