Moving Day

Several students from the college next door were hanging out in front of my brownstone when I arrived. Only one stood out – a thin, blond with a brown tweed cap cocked to one side. She was smoking a cigarette. The way she pinched the butt between her thumb and middle finger and took short, quick drags made her look so delinquently juvenile that my cock twitched.

I had loaded my car with light things and valuables, including my racing bike, which the girl immediately came over to admire. She said her name was Erica, but that people call her Rickey. I suggested that she take the bike for a spin, and then got busy carrying my belongings up to my second floor condo. Just as I was about to lift the last box, Rickey came walking back with the bike. She'd taken a bad spill, so I invited her in to clean up.

I fished through the boxes for first aid supplies, towels and soap and showed her to the bathroom. She glanced in the mirror, checked her face from different angles and adjusted her hat. It hit me that she looked like a deliciously pubescent blend of James Dean and Jean Seberg.

Assuming that she'd want privacy I headed out, but she said, "Don't go, I'd like your help," and rolled up her torn pants leg. I crouched at her feet, examined her knee, washed the abrasion, dabbed it with peroxide, and rubbed her smooth calf as she bravely fought the sting.

That wound attended to, she unfastened the top buttons of her blouse, pulled it down over her shoulder, and asked me to take care of the scratch which she couldn't reach. Like the most ethical of doctors, I treated the wound. Even when her blouse slipped revealing her nipple and she said, "I don't bother wearing a bra because my boobs are so small," I averted my eyes and disguised my excitement by making a bad joke:

"That's okay, what's a little breast between friends."

Instead of covering herself up, she undid the rest of her buttons and pressed her body against mine. My cock swelled and I felt embarrassed that she might notice. But when I started to pull back she tightened her embrace, humped me ever so slightly and said, "You've been so sweet, I want to repay you."

I told her that I didn't want her to think I was a dirty old man.

"Don't be ridiculous," she said, "just tell me what you'd like me to do."

I was shocked by her statement and her matter-of-fact tone, and I suddenly experienced the strangest sensation, a feeling of lightness in my stomach and chest which, like a mild electric current, practically tickled.

An image flashed in my mind of an old-fashioned rubber stopper being yanked by the chain from a bathtub drain allowing the water to rush out. In an instant my words spontaneously flowed, words I didn't believe I was saying but had no desire to stop:

"I'd like you to play with your pussy and tell me your thoughts as you make yourself come."

If she had protested in any way I would have apologized and taken back my request. But she didn't protest. She didn't say a word. Her face took on a serious expression, as if I had given her a challenging assignment, one that intrigued her and at which she was determined to succeed.

Incredibly, she took off her jeans and panties, sat on the toilet, opened her legs, rubbed her clit up and down and around, looked at me with a face that made me think she had the dirtiest mind in the world, put her middle finger into her mouth, drew it out slowly through slick, pursed lips, went back to her pussy and fingered her clit.

I knelt down as if to worship at an altar. My face was about a foot from her twat. Her pussy hair was short and fuzzy. Her clit stood tall and was surrounded by a beautifully shaped butterfly of loose skin.

I watched her shift her fingers from her clit to her hole, and put one, two, three fingers inside, moving them together in and out in a slow, steady fuck, and then she drew the wetness up to her clit, closed her eyes as if entering a trance, and started to talk:

"I'm with a girl in her bedroom. Her name is Laura. I'm not sure if she wants to get it on. I don't think she's made love with a girl before, but I've had the feeling for a while that she wanted to try.

Laura sits down on the edge of the bed. She's flipping the pages of a book trying to find a poem that she'd told me about. I take the book from her and put it on her night table. We look into each others eyes. I go to kiss her lips and she lets me. I press my lips harder against hers and she parts them so I can slide my tongue in. We kiss and rub tongues and hold each other in our arms.

I can feel my pussy beginning to throb and get wet. I wonder if her pussy feels that way too. I place my hand on the crotch of her jeans. She opens her legs a little more. I press her crotch harder and move my hand around. She starts humping my hand. I reach for her zipper. She helps pull it down.

I stay outside her panties, rub and squeeze her mound, find her slit and slowly track it up and down. She presses her pussy harder against my finger. I rub a little faster. She moves her hips so I can focus on her clit. I rub it in circles and sometimes up and down and then sneak my fingers under the lower edge of her panties and touch her pussy hair and her hole.

She says that her pussy is wet like a bowl of water and tells me to put my finger inside. I do as she asks and find that her pussy is drenched just like she said and I fuck her with my finger a few times.

She stands, takes off her jeans and panties, her blouse and her bra, pinches her nipples as if to waken them from a deep sleep, sits on the edge of the bed and lies back with her legs hanging to the floor.

I kneel with my face in her crotch, inhale her smell, spread her pussy lips with my fingers, kiss her hole, stick my tongue inside, slowly drag my tongue up to her clit, lick it slowly, very slowly at first, and then go back to her hole, lick along the edges, they're so slippery and wet, then up to her clit, licking a little faster now, first in small circles and then up and down.

She moans a little and gently thrusts, matching the rhythm of my tongue. As I lick faster and start flicking her clit with my tongue, she moans louder and humps faster, and soon my own pussy needs touching.

I slip my hand inside my panties, moisten my fingers with the juice in my pussy hole, draw the wetness up to my clit, and finger my clit with the same speed and motion as I tongue Laura's clit.

In moments it seems as if my finger and tongue are the same and that Laura's clit and my clit are one. I rub and I lick and I lick and I rub and when I forget even to breathe Laura gasps and moans and we…we…Oh, I coming."

Rickey clutched her twat and pressed down, and when she caught her breath she sighed, opened her eyes, and said, "My God, that felt so nice, but what about you?"

She leaned forward and held her fingers to my nose, so I could inhale the smell of her pussy, and then she placed the same pussy-scented fingers on my lips and slid them into my mouth. I licked them and sucked them as she slowly moved them in and out.

Still on my knees I dropped my pants and briefs and started jerking off. She leaned forward a little more and said that she wanted to see. My cock was so wet that I didn't have to use spit. I stared into her eyes as she watched what I was doing.

I looked at my cock with her, the way it was gliding through my clenched hand, the way the head was there, then gone, and then there again, and the way the hole stretched open as my hand stroked back on the skin, and then I asked her to open her legs wider and pinch her clit and stretch it out as long as it will go.

She did just as I asked and said, "I'm going to pretend that my clit is a little dick."

She moistened her fingers with juice from her pussy hole, squeezed her clit between her thumb and middle finger and slowly masturbated up and down like a boy.

Before long she started to moan. The sound of her voice and the sight of her twat all wet and pink and puckered, and her fingers moving, and her blond pussy hair, and her taut stomach, and her tiny nipple-bump tits, and the way she was sitting on the toilet just like she was pissing or shitting made me so excited that the head of my cock stung as if I hadn't pissed in a week.

I said that I was going to come. She motioned for me to stand up and took my cock in her mouth and sucked me and sucked me while she jerked her clit off, and just as she trembled and stuffed three fingers up her twat I shot cum all over her tongue and deep into her ravenous mouth.

After we came back to earth she said that she had to pee. I yanked up my briefs and pants and turned to leave, but she grabbed my shoulder, pulled me to her side and proudly said, "Check this out."

She faced the toilet, lifted the seat, spread her feet about twenty inches apart, made an upside-down V with her index and middle fingers, parted her pussy lips and her sticky pussy hair, tilted her pelvis, aimed her twat and shot a golden stream of piss straight into the toilet.

As I watched the squirt and splash of her pee I traced the crack of her butt with my finger. She spread her feet a little further apart to allow me better access to her asshole. I circled the tight ridge of her sphincter and had just inserted my middle finger up to the first joint when her pee stopped flowing.

"Uh, oh," she said, glancing around. "No toilet paper."

I had a piece of crumpled Kleenex in my pocket and took it out to give to her. But she jokingly whined, "No Daddy, you do it," so I patted her pussy dry, sniffed the damp and fragrant tissue, dropped it in the toilet and flushed.

She picked her panties up off the floor and carefully pulled them on over her sore knee. I knew that exploring her asshole would have to wait till another time, so I inhaled the pungent fecal smell on my finger, helped her on with her jeans, buttoned her blouse and walked her to the front door.

"Hope you enjoy your new place," she said, as she winked goodbye.