Imperfections

"So tell me," I murmured, "was it Monet or Rembrandt who did your artwork. It's beautiful."

"I'm afraid that bit was slapped on by a stork."

"Well, my compliments to the sea bird. I happen to like it."

"Then you'd be the first," she said, getting more serious now.

I nodded, acknowledging the change in mood. "I imagine some people might find it a bit disconcerting at first."

Rachel sighed. "Guys hit on me a lot during my first semester here, but my mom taught me a little self-respect. I wasn't going to be used like a Kleenex. I only dated guys who seemed to be willing to really get to know me as a person before getting too physical, but they invariably cooled things off when they saw my birthmark, even when I warned them ahead of time.

"I haven't accepted a date since my freshman year, but it's been a moot point. Word of my affliction spread all through my circle and the guys haven't wanted to be anything more than just friends ever since. They seem to think it's a contagious disease."

"Damn shallow of them," I told her, "and they have no clue what they're missing."

Rachel looked through me with a thousand-yard stare. "I suppose if I'd been a little more desperate, I could have gone out with guys I wasn't attracted to or caught a guy when he was too drunk or horny to care. If a girl wants it bad enough, she can always lower her standards and find a guy who's hard up enough to put up with about anything."

"Someone like me, maybe?"

I knew immediately that I shouldn't have said that, but with my luck in the dating pool, my self-esteem wasn't the best.

She gave me a reproving look. "Don't even think that, Alan. My being naked with you isn't settling at all. Just so you know, when you called I was still wearing the tank top and cutoffs I cleaned these carpets in. Normally I'd have been fine wearing those to show the bed, but I liked the sound of your voice and your obvious intelligence so much that I showered, shaved my legs and pits, trimmed my bush and even wore a dress without a bra. I hardly ever go without a bra. I got all gussied up, hoping that you'd be cute and somehow, miraculously, accepting of me. I don't often bother to get my hopes up anymore, but there was just something about your voice..."

"I liked the sound of your voice too. It was what brought me here."

She nodded. "So when you showed up at the door, my heart kind of sank, because-"

Huh? "I have that effect on women," I interrupted with a forced smile, hoping to be light and flippant, but why had she said something as hurtful as that?

She saw right through my smile and her face took on a stricken look. She quickly reached out and put her hand on my shoulder. "No, no, please let me finish, Alan. See, every really handsome guy I dated had this sense of entitlement, like any girl he deigned to go out with had to be perfect. It was like these guys were so good looking that they could afford to casually discard any woman that somehow didn't measure up. So when I saw you, I figured I was out of luck, because you're so damn gorgeous."

My immediate reaction was that she was blowing sunshine up my ass, but her expression said she was in dead earnest.

"Seriously? I mean, okay, I guess I'm not an ogre, but 'so damn gorgeous'? No way."

"Oh yes you are," she insisted. "What are you, like six-two? Broad shoulders, narrow waist and hips, muscle all over you, a clear, handsome face, and that amazing mane of dark, curly hair? Yup, gorgeous I tell you."

I honestly hadn't given much thought to my personal appearance in years. I'd been too busy trying to survive college and I hadn't been dating anyway. My hair was a bit long because I saved money by only getting it cut every six months. I'd run and lifted for fun and health, not for my looks. Inside, I still thought of myself as that gangling, pimply nerd with the unruly mop on his head.

"You're the gorgeous one here, Rachel. All of you, from head to toe." She really was. This unselfconsciously nude angel lying next to me, port wine stain and all, was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen.

She shook her head, evidently not willing to take my acceptance of her at face value any more than I was willing to accept her assessment of me.

"I decided to take a risk and show you my birthmark because you were so understanding when I freaked out over the storm," she said, "but I still steeled myself to having you back off once you saw it. The acceptance you showed me with your lips may have been the most beautiful thing anyone has done for me since I was a kid. Why are you such a saint?"

It was time. "I wish I could tell you that it's because I'm a saint, but I'm not."

"Then what is it? Why doesn't my disfigurement send you packing like all the other guys?"

In answer to her question, I got up on my knees, facing her. She looked up at me with a puzzled expression.

"Rachel, this is why." I pulled my T-shirt over my head, but kept it in my hand, knowing she'd want me to put it right back on. Her eyes went wide.

"Wow," she murmured, getting up onto her knees and facing me, her eyes riveted to my chest. "Is this why your dad went to prison?"

I nodded. "I was just five months old and my mom was at work. He evidently got fed up with my crying while he was pressing his shirt. No one bought his story that the iron 'just fell' on me."

"Can I touch it?"

You could have knocked me over with a feather. She wanted to do what?

"Uh, you're the first girl who's ever asked to do that, but sure, if you really want to."

She reached out and ran her fingers across my maimed chest. Her touch was gentle, though in the place where she touched me I didn't really have much feeling. She looked up at me and shook her head. "How could anyone do this to a child, much less an infant?"

"A lot of people were asking that. The story made the front page of both Denver papers and there were enough death threats against my dad that he didn't even attempt to make bail. They held him in solitary for his own safety, but he was diagnosed with a malignant brain tumor right before the trial was going to start. It was an extremely aggressive cancer and he lived less than a month after that."

I showed her the small burn scars on the insides of my wrists where my tiny hands had evidently tried to push the iron away.

"So do you think it was the tumor that made him do this?" she asked, her voice almost a whisper.

I nodded. "I have to tell myself that or I'd be scared to death that I could hurt my own kids someday. My mom wouldn't talk about it much. I think she was waiting until I was an adult to fill me in, so I may never know. She was a wonderful person, though, and a good judge of character. I'm certain she wouldn't have married him if she'd seen any signs that he would one day do such a thing."

Rachel was still exploring my chest with light touches of her fingers. "It looks like they did a lot of work on it."

I nodded. "Most of the burn was third-degree and they had to do quite a few grafts. Fortunately, I was only old enough to remember the last couple of operations. They say they could do some cosmetic work to improve the look of the whole thing, but until now I haven't had good enough health insurance."

The scar on my chest and stomach had grown along with me. It was now probably five times the size of the Hamilton Beach that had inflicted it.

Rachel leaned in closer. I felt her wet tongue on me and flinched involuntarily. "At least he left you a nipple," she giggled.

I was nearly floored by the fact that she could be playful while looking at my hideous chest, but I was more than ready to stop talking about what my father had done to me.

She sucked my nipple into her mouth for a moment. As she swirled her tongue around it, I was amazed at the intensity of the sensation there.

"You're wearing too much clothing," she eventually murmured. "You mind if I do the honors?"

"Mind? I'd be delighted."

Rachel undid my shorts. Sliding them down to my knees, she could more clearly see the bulge in my briefs.

"Methinks someone's enjoying this," she said. Without further ceremony, she slid them down. "Oh my! I think I'm going to enjoy this." She took my swinging member in her hand.

I lifted one knee at a time and slid my shorts and boxers off, throwing the wad over the foot of the bed to make a pile with hers. Then I finally completed the action that I'd started when she'd lowered the top of her dress for me. While she carefully ran her hands up and down the length of my growing erection, I took her breasts into my hands.

I'd had occasion to handle the bare breasts of maybe half a dozen women in my life, but Rachel's were a revelation. They were so smooth, so firm. I'd thought they looked sensational, but they felt even better. Her skin tone was completely even, probably from never having been out in the sun in a bikini, and her nipples were hard and proud. She moaned as I ran my thumbs across them, teasing, then caressing.

It felt good to touch and be touched, but there was something I wanted even more. I took Rachel in my arms and began to kiss her for real. Her hands came out from between us and she wrapped her arms around me, clinging tightly as our tongues dueled. I was out of practice, but soon regained my confidence.

I reveled in the feel of her nude body pressed to mine. She felt just perfect, and I again marveled at how a trip to look at a used waterbed had quickly turned into this. It was vanishingly improbable, but still very, very right.

"Oh my God, this is so good," Rachel murmured into my mouth. "I never thought I'd find you."

A very enlightening statement, but those were my sentiments exactly. Her hands were roaming all over my back and shoulders. I groaned and felt myself harden further in response. My shaft was soon pressing hard up against Rachel's crotch.

"It feels like someone's getting excited," she murmured, moving her hips just enough that the flat of my member slotted between her lips. I could feel the sudden reduction in friction as her moisture bathed me. "Here, move onto your back and I'll help you with that," she murmured.

It wasn't easy, forcing myself to release her from my arms, but I did.

Rachel guided me to spread my legs, then knelt between them and began to massage the inside of my thighs, starting down near my knees. I'd kind of expected her to go right to work on my member, but even in my state of extreme horniness, I knew this would be better.

Unfortunately, she was touching me just a little too softly. Despite my best efforts to hold still, I flinched.

"Are you okay?"

"Not your fault. It's just that I'm congenitally ticklish."

She gave me an evil grin. "I'll have to keep that in mind, Alan, but for now I think I know how to get around that." She started right where she'd left off, just using a little more pressure. The feel of her hands on me went from tickle to magic.

"Is that better?"

"Yeah. You've got all evening to stop doing that."

"Good, because we've got all evening."

Rachel's hands seemed to gain confidence from my reassurance and she slowly began working her way inward. Her hands were soft and warm and the unprecedented sight of such a beautiful girl working to give me pleasure was mind blowing.

I loved the way she looked at my body with obvious desire. I loved her long stately neck, her narrow waist, the way her breasts bobbed ever so slightly as she moved, and her long, soft fingers where they touched me.

Slowly her hands moved closer and closer, the pleasure and anticipation now so intense that I could hardly breathe. Rachel sighed with pleasure of her own as she cupped my balls, gently probing and caressing. "Does that feel okay?" she asked softly, looking up into my eyes. "I like playing with them."

"It feels wonderful, Rachel," I murmured.

Her ministrations to my nut sack felt like an equal measure of clinical exploration and loving massage, but it was all good. I was more than willing to wait until she moved on to the more erogenous area just above, but I didn't have to wait for long.

Still cupping my balls in one hand, Rachel reached up with the other and gently swirled a big, slick droplet of precum around my cockhead. The sensation was so intense that... Oh no, not already! "Uh, Rachel? I'm gonna..."

"Now?"

I nodded with both urgency and embarrassment. She had barely even touched me there but, like a complete noob, I was about to blow my wad all over her bed! I started to reach down, thinking that I could direct it onto my stomach and not make such a mess. Instead, and to my utter amazement, Rachel grabbed me in both hands and popped her mouth over the head just as I erupted.

I groaned as I shot rope after rope into her mouth. Her eyes grew wide and I realized that this might have been a first for her. She gamely hung in there, though.

I wasn't looking forward to having to explain myself, but the sensation of her mouth on me was so unbelievable that I tried to just live in the moment. I rubbed the smooth, soft skin of her shoulders as my issue petered out.

Eventually I was done and Rachel sat up. With a little sideways flick of her head, she swallowed.

"Rachel, I'm so, so sorry," I said, shamefaced. "I really wanted to last a lot longer than that."

As with the last time I'd tried to apologize to her, she instead stretched out across me and kissed me. Even in my post-coital state, I responded with vigor.

All thoughts of apologies were pushed to the side now and I began to run my hands over every part of her body that was within my reach. Again I marveled at the supple smoothness of her skin. Her buttocks were firm, hard and shapely, her back nicely muscled, but emphatically feminine. How could it be possible that I was here with a woman like this?

Rachel reached back and released her hair. It fell in a lustrous curtain around us, creating a dark, cozy space for our ever-increasing hunger.

I felt Rachel begin to grind herself against me, wanting more now. I knew it wouldn't be long until I was ready to go again, but I wasn't there yet, so, wrapping an arm around her incredibly slim waist, I rolled us over without ever breaking off our kiss. She spread her legs and began to rub against me again. She needed more, and I knew just what I was going to do for her.

I broke away from her lips and slowly kissed along the fine line of her jaw, up and toward her ear. She was still trying to move her hips against me, so I raised mine out of her reach. She moaned at the loss and at her need, but I told myself that it wasn't really need so much as it was extreme want. She'd get what she needed, in spades, but she was going to have to be patient.

I nibbled at her earlobe for a moment and she gave up on trying to grind herself against me, instead reaching down to touch herself. I gently took her wrist and laid her arm back at her side.

"Patience," I whispered in her ear. "Just trust me." To my delight, she groaned but did as I asked.

I lifted myself on my hands and knees so that my mouth was the only physical contact between us. Then I began to slowly kiss and nibble my way down the side of her neck, and then to the finely sculpted hollow at the base of her throat. She was silent now, but I could feel that her entire being was focused on the feeling of my lips and tongue on her, just as I intended.

I kissed along her delicate collarbone and then down her side, just skirting the outside of her breast, then kissed along the well-defined border where the underside met her chest. As I circled up between, I could tell that Rachel figured I was going to slowly spiral inward, so instead, I surprised her by sucking her nipple straight into my mouth and biting down gently.

Rachel gasped and her hands flew up from her side and cradled my head, mashing my face to her. I took as much of her into my mouth as I could and sucked hard. She began to shake, and I realized that incredibly (and to no small pride on my part), Rachel was having a mild orgasm, just from my suckling.

I continued until she seemed to have recovered some, then did the same to the other breast. Rachel stayed in control this time, even putting her hands back down at her sides, but I sensed that she was now good and ready for me to head south to warmer and more humid climes. I started to do just that, but at my own pace.

On this trip I went right down the middle, across incredibly smooth, soft skin and rough, angry stain until I met her dark forest again. This time I skirted around her birthmark and across the front of her hip, pausing at my favorite spot on the whole female body, that perfect place right on top of the hipbone. Rachel's was not bony or pronounced, just barely and delightfully defined, and I worshiped at its glorious altar for a moment before heading down her thigh.

She moaned and squirmed in frustration as I went past her center and almost to her knee, but then I went to the inside and started back up. I could both see and scent her excitement as I kissed up her inner thigh, and she responded by opening her legs almost obscenely wide as I approached.

Rachel's smooth lip was engorged and nearly as red as her rough one, and I treated them equally, turning my head and lipping them both in turn. Her breathing was labored now as her anticipation grew, but after being as purposefully deliberate as I'd been, I wasn't going to rush things now. Her hands finally flew up from her sides and just brushed against my hair, but then she caught herself and laid them back down. I was so proud of her.

Little by little, I worked my lips and then my tongue a little deeper as I slowly went back and forth on her like a harmonica. My tongue again tasted her sweet moisture as I penetrated her inner lips. Rachel moaned a mix of passion and frustration.

She wasn't the only one suffering though. My erection was back and almost painfully hard. My baser instincts were screaming at me to just scoot up there and get with the program, but I knew that in the long run, this would be better for both of us.

I began to massage her inner thighs with my hands, gradually moving them inwards toward her center. Rachel was gasping now, so close, yet not there yet, desperate for what she so urgently wanted and needed. I was almost ready to do that, but first I used my fingers to hold her lips open to me and plunged my tongue as far as I could into her sweet depths. She cried out as I went inside.

Rachel was a marvelous contrast in feel and flavor. Her nectar tasted like ambrosia and her stained flesh was rough against my lips. Her hips bucked and her legs writhed aimlessly as I probed her.

There was no use at this point torturing her any further, though, so I moved just slightly north and took her engorged, and fortunately unaffected, clit into my mouth and began to work it hard with my tongue. I slid a finger into her slick center, feeling how incredibly wet and tight she was, and began to move it in and out.

Rachel erupted in a fury of sound and motion. "OH GOD!" she screamed as she came, in a voice that was probably heard in the parking lot through the open window. I held her thrashing hips down with my free arm as I diddled her furiously, sucking hard on her clit and not letting up on her as she climaxed.

My efforts, and her patience, paid off as wave after wave of orgasmic ecstasy washed over her. That was what this whole build-up had been for, and it had worked out just the way I'd hoped. I'd never seen a woman come with such utter abandon and it was an absolutely glorious feeling knowing that I'd done this for her, but now I was going to reap some of the dividends myself.