Hot Tub Trio Ch. 04

Ann sat back and then stood. She reached for her shorts. I looked at her in a panic.

"What's wrong? Did I do say something?" I knew I hadn't. She had simply come to her senses, changed her mind.

"Huh," she looked confused. "No, God Vince relax. Put you pants and shirt back on, skip the boxers though."

"Huh? Why?"

"Let's do this the way you are use to. I think it will help you turn your head off for a once. Piasano you think way too much for your own good. Come on."

She reached for her top and pulled it on as I stood up, shaking my head. I picked up my jeans and pulled them on. I had to flex my hips to get my dick back inside. Thank God they were button fly jeans, getting caught in a zip would have ended the evening in a flash. I pulled on my tee shirt, not bothering to turn it right side out and sat back down. Ann remained on her feet.

"I bet you would have music on wouldn't you." She didn't wait for an answer but skipped around the coffee table to the makeshift media center and rummaged through the cassettes scattered there.

"Joshua Tree, too serious. The Ramones too belligerent." She rejected another half a dozen. "This will work." She popped open the cassette player, dropped in it, pushed it shut with a click and hit play. It was a double 'album', whether she had picked the second cassette on purpose or not I never knew. After a moment of hissing the drum intro to "Just Like Heaven" thumped through the room, or would have if I could have afforded a sub-woofer and a better receiver.

Ann adjusted the volume and walked slowly back to the couch, swaying her hips and shoulders to the music and singing softly along with the opening lines.

She settled in beside me, lying against my side but looking at me. She was so beautiful with her bemused half smile and dark eyes, that even now 24 years later the memory twists my heart into a hard knot that makes it hard to breath. My throat tightened and I felt my eyes begin to mist.

"You okay?" Chad's voice broke into my reverie.

Amy is drowsing against his chest.

I stand and stretch. "Back is a little stiff."

He nods, letting it go. I jerk my head toward the bedroom.

"You and Amy are welcome to crash for a while. Sheets are clean," I glance around the couch. "Although after this I'm not sure that is a major concern."

"You want us to take off?" Chad's voice is neutral. I pause wondering if he is asking to be let off the hook or asking to stay.

"Up to you. Amy looks like she might need some time to recover. Like I said your welcome to crash for a while, all night if you want. I'm fine with the couch. I think I'll listen to some music and try to chill a bit before I go to sleep."

Chad nods. He urges Amy to her feet. She looks more innocent than ever as he guides her with his hands on her hips toward the bed. Innocent looking or not I feel my cock take notice of the sheen on her thighs.

I follow them long enough to grab a pillow and a spare blanket and then retreat to the living room.

I look at the couch. It is a mess. Feeling twenty-one again I spread the blanket on the floor and toss the pillow on top of it. I angle the two speakers that are accessible toward my head. I turn off all the lights and open the patio door. Through the screen I can hear the ocean rumble ashore, the lights from the pool hide most of the stars but the last of the rain clouds glow, backlit by a full moon.

I consider lighting up a bowl but quickly dismiss the idea. I make sure the volume is down low, scroll through my iPod's playlists, looking for one I had made years ago that reproduced a mix tape Ann and I would listen to as we'd fall asleep, usually one of us atop the other, deeply sated.

I lay down on my back, head between the speakers and watch the moon dappled clouds drift across my field of vision, point the remote and hit play.

She had run away with me yet I had ended up alone in the end.

It is easier to lose myself in memory than to recapitulate the myriad of reasons why I am a fucking idiot.

-

Part Two:

All those long years ago, my lovely down to earth all business Ann, she of dark shining eyes and gentle smile, grew impatient and gave me a playful punch in the ribs.

"Aren't you supposed to be kissing me doofus?"

I was, so I did.

She tasted of pepperoni and Rolling Rock and I couldn't get enough of her. She turned so that she faced the back of the sofa and laid across me, almost sitting in my lap, her upper body supported by the arm of the sofa.

I had an arm around her back and my other hand rested on her tummy, outside her shirt. She had one hand in my hair; the other was under my tee shirt, skittering and dancing over my side and ribs.

Her lips were soft but as we kissed I could feel them swell and grow ever so slightly firmer. I lost myself in the antics of her tongue. At times it took control, darting at will, pressing against mine. At other times it was more languid, allowing me to gently suck and tug at it with my teeth.

I pressed my face against her cheek and she turned her head toward my chest. I pushed her hair aside with my nose and kissed her cheek, inching back to finally kiss behind her ear. Bingo. She mewled against my chest and her hand tightened in my hair. I continue to kiss her there, soft wet caressing kisses interspersed with firm, almost aggressive ones. Her whimpers seemed to resonate through my chest.

My hand found its way under her top but I resisted the urge to move it to her breasts. I lightly stroked her tummy and side as I abandoned her ear and began to kiss along the taut rigid of muscle, her sternocleidomastoid, my irritatingly rational mind insisted I call it.

I found myself stopping to bury my nose in her hair or against her neck, inhaling deeply, wondering how, after knowing her this long, I been clueless about how wonderful she smelled. It wasn't cologne or shampoo, nor sweat and certainly not body odor; it was just Ann, essence of Ann and it was far more intoxicating that beer or dope.

When I had kissed my way down to her collarbone, I reversed course, licking, in one long stroke, all the way back up to her ear. I flicked her ear lobe with my tongue. I was so lost, lost in tasting, and in smelling, and in feeling her skin against my lips, I hardly noticed when she bit my chest. It was only later, feeling pain while showering, that I discovered the dark oval bruise bearing the faint marks of her teeth in the middle of my left chest.

I kissed along her jaw and found her mouth. With each stroke my hand moved up her side. My fingers danced on the soft skin below the mound of her breast. Ann's tongue grew more forceful, unable to wait, she twisted her body and her breast found its way into my open palm. Her nipple was already hard.

Even as I kid I tried to do my homework, tried to be ready. You couldn't learn everything from a book but background always helps. The Joy of Sex contained a warning that women hated guys twisting at their nipples as if tuning in a staticky radio station. I tried to follow their advice on how to approach nipple play. I kneaded her breast gently, moving it in soft circles over her chest.

Ann moaned into my mouth and I thanked God for making me a reader.

Inspiration struck and I pulled my mouth and hand free. I waited until she opened her eyes to see what I was doing. When she did I licked my palm, and keeping her gazed fixed on my eyes, slipped my hand back under her top and, barely grazing her, slide my moistened palm in slow circles across her nipple.

She gasped and sucked a quick breath between clenched teeth before dragging me back to her mouth by my hair and assaulting me with her tongue in a most wonderful way. Her free hand left my side and began to squeeze and rub my cock through my taut jeans. We continued this way, enjoying each other, anxious to move on but reluctant to leave behind the sensations we had only just begun to give each other.

Eventually, I think I broke the kiss. I do know that it was my hands that tugged her top up and when she started to reach for it, started to pull if off, I shook my head, kissed her softly and whispered, "leave it, not yet."

She looked confused but complied. I pulled her onto my lap as I scooted under her. With her top pushed up her breasts sloped toward me, the right nestled against my chest. Once more I licked the palm of my hand and began to tease her left nipple, only now I could watch her face, see the effect my actions had on her. She would arch her back then collapse back into my lap, her lower lip caught between her teeth. The way she was laying it was hard to reach her right nipple. This seemed a great tragedy to me. I wet the ball of my thumb and managed to work it between my chest and her breast. I pressed my wet thumb against the crinkly flesh of her nipple and stroked it in small circles, praying I was not falling into the "radio tuning motion" trap. Her response to my touch assured me that I was not.

I went back to her left breast. I massaged it softly, watching as Ann rubbed her face against my chest, sometimes twisting to bury it in my axilla. With trepidation I finally grasp the hard little bud between my thumb and first finger and, remembering the book's advice, very gently, pulled. She began to wiggle and groan so loudly it frightened me. I pulled my fingers away and drew in a shaky breath in preparation for apologizing but Ann spoke first.

"No, don't stop. Please."

My fingers return to their play. Her wiggling was becoming uncomfortable; it was my hard-on she was wiggling against. I shifted down the couch a little more, letting her lie back on the couch. I was propped up on my left hip behind her, able to lean and reach most of her body with my hands and mouth. Her legs remained draped across mine. I kissed her right neck, ear and cheek in the fashion that worked so well on the left. Before long I had to find her mouth with my own. Time had lost all meaning. It is possible we lay there kissing for a couple minutes or a couple of hours.

As we kissed I let my right hand drift from her breasts and began to stroke her tummy and then wandered down to stroke just above her shorts. She moved her hips, thrusting them toward my hand wanting more. As I kissed my way down her throat, my fingers dove beneath the elastic band of her shorts to brush through her soft mass of curls. She moved her hips trying to get her pussy under my fingers, but my fingers politely declined her invitation.

I kissed my way down her cleavage and remembering her comment about titty fucking, I made sure they were wet, very wet kisses, wondering if she would really let me do such a thing to her. I avoided kissing her breasts or nipples. My fingers brushed lower and lower through her bush until I could feel the soft indentation, the head of the valley that would lead me to her clit and her pussy.

Judging the time to be ripe, I moved my hand lower, and with more luck than skill, parted her with my middle finger then slide it up an over her clit. As simultaneously as possible, I took her left nipple into my mouth.

Her hips bucked so hard for I thought she was having an orgasm but she settled back into the couch as I stilled my finger and lips. She was panting softly, one arm over her eyes, the other clutching at my hair.

I knew what I wanted. I had known since we had sat back down on the couch. After she quieted I decided it was time.

I began to slowly move my finger over the rock of her clit. She was so wet that even those gentle movements brought a faint squelching sound to my ears. I tongued, and flicked her left nipple for a bit longer before turning to the right. Satisfied I had given equal attention to both nipples I started to kiss my way down her belly.

I stopped for long moments at her belly button, sucking it into my mouth and fucking it with my tongue before moving lower. It was awkward but I did my best to kiss long the top of her shorts before freeing my hand and legs to scoot from under her and kneel on the rough wood floor in front of her feet.

There was no way to move the coffee table, the wood was not attached to the blocks, so I pushed with my chest against the couch and was able to move it, screeching in protest, back several inches. I tugged Ann's hips around, hooked my fingers under the waistband of her shorts and tugged them down. She silently lifted her hips, allowing them to slip over the swells of her ass.

I pushed them to the floor and she moved to pull a foot free but I press her leg back down with my elbow. Her feet were trapped in the shorts but her legs were free. I slide my hands between her knees and pressed, urging her to let her legs fall open but she resisted.

"No. I'm all sweaty. I played volleyball this morning before I came over." She whispered softly.

I kissed the inside of one knee than the other. "Sssh baby," not even realizing I had called her 'baby' until later. "It's okay. Relax."

Slowly, she let me push her knees apart. I was okay with slow; anticipation is half the joy. It was worth the wait.

-

Her sex gleamed at me. Tiny beads of clear nectar were trapped in the sparse hair that lined her lips, lips that were engorged, almost pulsing under my gaze. Reigning over it all, her rock hard clitoris jutted from under its hood.

"Oh Ann, fuck me baby. Your pussy is so beautiful." I heard my voice but didn't really have any control over it. The insistently rational part of my brain started raving that she would be disgusted by the comment. I'm not sure if she even heard me speak. This wasn't the back of a car in the darkest corner of a parking lot. It was early evening, the apartment awash in light. I wanted, needed, to see more.

I slide both hands over the top of her thighs, turned them and drug my fingers firmly down the inside of her thighs. I was captivated by the sight of her pussy twitching as I did this, looking like a fish gasping in a creel. The simile seemed inappropriate for such a wonderful part of her body and I mentally chided myself.

The next time I passed my hands over her thighs I let them rest on her hips for a moment before moving my right hand to cup her sex. I didn't do any more than that. I simply held my palm pressed against her. She squirmed against my hand a few times then subsided. I brought my left hand over and very softly pressed both thumbs along side her clit and separated her, exposing as much of the length of her clitoris as I could without fearing I would hurt her. Her hips traced small ellipses under my hands.

I moved my hands down, thumbs carefully pulling the outer lips away from the inner, forcing the inner lips together. I watched as clear fluid collecting and began to run down the ridge were they meet. My thumbs reached the bottom of her slit and move inward, parting her inner lips as I moved my hands upward once more. I paused near the middle, spreading her, gazing in wonder at the velvety folds of her pussy, the sides running wet with liquid that pool at the lowest point.

Holding her open with one hand, I dipped my finger into the pool then licked it clean. I dipped it again and used the slickened digit to massage her clit. I ran my wet finger over it, dragging the hood back slightly before sliding my finger forward along one side of her little shaft. I began to draw figures of eight, up and over the head, along the top of her clit, then down one side, back up and down the other side.

When Ann began to move too much I would stop, let her cool off a bit then start again. When I moved forward, careful not to kneel on her feet, still caught in her shorts, she offered another soft protest.

"I should shower. I'm probably all stinky. Just make love to me."

"Ssh," I whispered back. "You don't smell baby."

She did smell. She smelt gloriously of sex and woman. It was a strong scent but in no way malodorous. I can come no closer than it was the smell of a foggy wood on a damp spring morning, rich and deep. She entered through my nose and spilled through my body and finally the rational part of me, the questioning part of me was washed away.

I kissed my way up her thighs, alternating sides as her hands again found my hair. Her scent grew stronger and my kisses more urgent. I longed to take her nub between my lips but she seemed so close to the brink and I didn't want her to cum yet.

I had never gone down on a woman before. The closest I had come was surreptitiously sucking on my fingers after finger fucking a chick once. I kissed her inner thigh, softy gazing at the center of her womanhood before turning my head and lowering my mouth.

Any advice I might have gleaned from The Joy of Sex was lost to me. I had no idea, or even concern, for technique I simply had to taste her, drink her in. As I had with my palm, I covered her sex with my mouth. I sucked lightly, pulling her lips between my own. I pushed my tongue forward and my mouth filled. I swallowed. I sucked and lapped my way up to her clit. Stopping often, wiping my face on her thighs and then licking and nipping at her, long past worrying she'd think me a mad dog.

When I finally took her clit between my teeth it didn't take long. Ann's legs clenched against my head, trapping me, not that I was trying to escape. At first the hands in my hair jerked my head forward as she began to thrust into my mouth, then she stilled.

As a long shuddering cry whistled between her teeth and hand quiet tugging and began to push me away. I resisted. I loved the feel of her clitoris as it spasmed between my lips and under my tongue. Her hands became more insistent.

I heard her panting, "stop, it's too much, please."

Even then, before I was aware I was in love with her, perhaps even before I was in love with her, there was no part of me that desired to hear Ann plead. The fog of my lust lifted long enough for me to heed her wishes.

I stopped.

I rested my face on her leg and watched her pussy continue to twitch and flow as her breathing began to slow and her hands relaxed in my hair.

After a time, I rose, as unaware that my knees were raw as I was of the bite on my chest, and wiggled my way behind her, my legs twisted over the side of the couch since there was no room for them. I rested my head on her belly, listening to the echoing thud of her heart.

Her breathing slowed and we stayed that way for long minutes, her drowsing and me brushing my fingers through the soft tuft of her pubic hair as I pondered what alchemy had turned carbon and iron, oxygen and phosphorus, calcium and nitrogen into something as beautifully alive and vibrant as Ann's body.

-

Ann's fingers started to brush my sweaty hair off my forehead. My belly ached with the worse case of blue balls I'd every experienced. Thumbing open my jeans to relieve the pressure was almost the topmost item on my mind, second only to my worry regarding what Ann's reaction would be.

She had said she wanted to make love. Did what we had just done count? What was the polite thing to do at this point? Well she was playing with my hair. That seemed safe, although the only hair I could reach was her somewhat dampened bush.

My hand had slipped down to rest on her thigh. I moved them back to her bush, tiltng my head a bit so I could watch my fingers brush and softly pluck at the thick black curls, re-awakening her scent. Without thought I inhaled her slowly, deeply. The fingers combing my hair paused.

For perhaps the first time in my life I followed the adage that fortune favored the bold.

"God, I love the smell of your pussy." I whispered but loud enough she could hear. I continued to brush my fingers through her bush, then rolled over her thigh and laid my face next to her sex and inhaled deeply.

I let my fingers drift lower, avoiding her clitoris, if it was anything like my dick it would be almost painful to touch right after cumming. I tickled her lips with my fingertips. I increased the pressure and two fingers easily slipped into her still very wet pussy. I heard her draw a breath and the fingers in my hair clenched. I just held my fingers there, not moving.