New York Winters

At home, I slumped on the couch and replayed the kiss again. And again. And again. What had really happened? Why was she so hard to read? What was that vulnerable look just before she departed? I turned on loud music, opened the windows slightly, and watched the city below from my little perch, letting my mind wander wherever it would go. But it kept returning to the museum, and to Simone.

At that moment I heard pounding, and I turned down the music. Sure enough, someone was pounding, loudly, at my door. Strange since there was no way someone could get up without calling up. Maybe the loud music had obscured the bell I thought.

I opened the door, and Simone almost burst into my apartment. She pushed the door behind her, and it slapped shut with a loud thud. Still in the evening dress, she dropped her bag, pulled me to her, and the kiss began again. This time it was harder, more urgent. Her hand on my neck, pulling. Suddenly I could feel her body responding -- her hard nipples pushing through the thin material of the dress and rubbing on my tshirt I had changed into.

"Jesse, I want you, I have always wanted you. I need you," she said, through a break in the kiss.

She pushed me up against the wall of the entrance, against the wall where I hung my coats on big hooks. Nestled into coats, she kissed me, and suddenly her mouth was on my chest. She lifted my tshirt up and over my head, and pulled her cheek to my chest. My heart was pounding at this point. She heard it, kissed my nipple, and looked up at me. She was crying, which was confusing to me, but it looked like it was joy not sadness. And I held her to my chest, running my hands through her thick jet-black hair, over her ears, to her throat, and shoulders.

She pressed the flat of her hand on my belly and pressed hard, pulling my belt out in one long motion. Tugging at my zipper, her mouth was urgently sucking on my cock as soon as she freed me. Sucking hard. Nothing like my casual dates with Claudia that summer. This was desire mixed into a frenzy. I was shocked, and still hardening in her mouth, as she urgently pulled me into her mouth. She moaned, and bit down hard as her hands cupped my balls, tugging.

She bit the shaft on the side, gently, stroking with one hand, and I came hard -- unexpectedly, quickly, spraying pulses of semen onto her beautiful dress, her mouth biting down on the side of the shaft, her tongue able to feel each pulse pass through the grip of her mouth, her hand stroking the cum out, my moans and shudders slowly subsiding. I was shocked by how fast I came, and how aggressively she chased down my orgasm. I had just kissed this woman an hour ago, for the first, time, and now she barges into my condo and sucks me off within the first two minutes of arriving.

My shudders finally subsided, and I lifted her up, scooped her up, sticky dress and all, and walked her into my living room. I lay her on the couch and, a bit awkward without pants or shirt at this point, I giggled. She smiled.

"What?" she asked.

"I am just a little surprised is all. And it is taking me a moment to get used to the idea of you seeing me naked, here, in my apartment, on a late night in September. I didn't think I would ever see you again, Simone."

"I haven't stopped thinking about you since the night of your book party, Jesse. I date, sure. But I wanted you. You were the one that I was really waiting for. And it took me kissing you tonight, then running away, then deciding what a mistake that was -- it took all that for me to realize that I wanted you. Needed you."

I was speechless. I just stood and smiled. She smiled back at me. She took a breath to say more, but I put up a finger to my lips to silence her, and winked at her. I crossed the room to put on music, softer this time. I turned to her, she had stood, and we met in a kiss again. This time, my hands pulled the straps of her dress aside and I guided it to the ground. She was naked underneath and I gasped at her body as my eyes took her in. Slender in the shoulders and hips, with small breasts of incredible symmetry and tightness. Her nipples were hardening as we stood. She was strong, I could tell that -- and I remembered her firm handshakes when we first had met. I lifted her again, meeting her lips as I carried her back to the couch.

She pulled my head to her nipples, and her moan gave up her pleasure. Her hands tugging at my earlobes, and running across my cheeks as I kissed her.

She pushed my head downward, arching upward at her hips. My mouth met her clit and her hands started pressing hard down on my temples, pulling me to her. She rocked herself against my tongue and lips, and, like me, found herself in a deep orgasm momentarily. Her head thrashing back and forth on the pillow, her mound pressing upward to my tongue, her body vibrating to the rhythm of each pulse generated by her orgasm. She whimpered as she recovered, and pushed me back.

Rolling over me, she held one hand on my chest as she pushed herself down onto my cock. Her sex pulled me in hard, and tightened around me. With half her weight on one arm on my chest, she slowly fucked me, staring into my eyes in a squint of pleasure and joy. She started slowly, and I held her back with each stroke. She pressed hard and stopped every couple strokes to take in the full pressure of my cock inside her.

The pace rose, then relaxed again. Over and over, each time bringing us both close to orgasm. Then she let go. Her head nuzzled along my collar bone, her teeth playing with my nipples. Her rhythms accelerated as she pulled my cock almost fully out, then re-mounted it deeply, my balls shaking with each stroke.

"I am going to cum Simone," I said.

She immediately put one hand over my mouth and said, "Let me fuck you -- don't interrupt."

And fuck me she did. It just got more and more intense. The music in the background, the city lights and sounds making their way into the large living room, her pussy tightening on my shaft, her nipples raking across my chest with each of the pumping motions she was making.

Then she started to cry out. "Fuck me. God damn that feels good Jesse. I needed your cock for a year now. I don't know why I held back. But I need that cock now Jesse. Push up. Deeper. Now. Don't fucking stop now Jesse."

Then she tightened further and started coming. Her pussy pulsed. She cried out, loudly, her head thrown back as she fucked me. My cock felt the pressure with each tightening, and she fucked me fast as she came, causing my seed to swirl up from within. Quickly, I found myself cumming too. Spilling into her. Pushing the head as deep as I could. Filling this woman with my cum. As hard and fast as I could. My hands on her ass, pulling her down onto me with each stroke, helping her now-tired legs fuck my cock fully. Helping her come down from her orgasm, slowly, and me from mine, into a completely relaxed state.

After ten minutes of near-sleep, in eachother's arms, she popped up. I slipped out of her, she stood, pulled my tshirt over her head.

"I am famished! How about some dinner?" she said.

"What? Um, sure. There are a few places that still deliver at this hour I suppose -- this is New York after all," I replied.

"No," she said. "I meant dinner -- let me cook."

"Ahhh. Ok?" I said in response, not sure what food I had around.

We padded out into the kitchen, and when I switched on the light, she let out another kind of moan. This one was a blend of glee and excitement.

"You never told me!" she said.

"What do you mean?" I responded.

"You never told me you cooked -- I mean, look at this kitchen. I have never seen anything quite like it!" she said, gesturing her arm at the layout of the large kitchen.

"It was my uncle's passion. I am not a cook, I assure you," I said.

"Well, then you are in for a surprise," Simone said. "I AM a cook. And an excellent one at that. And this is a dream kitchen!"

I smiled, nodded, and with the slightly strange variety of ingredients, fresh and dried, that I had around, she put together an unforgettable meal. I sat on a stool and watched her prancing around the kitchen, using strange little devices I had never even tried before, grating and mixing, toasting and frying. She was in seventh heaven.

I have to say, I was in my own little heaven. Simone was a wonderful woman, a romantic, dreamy, and an incredible sexual partner to boot. I watched her put together that meal, her delight in the process. And I watched her breasts bouncing under my tshirt, her long legs jutting out from underneath it. Her hair swirling as she chopped and chatted.

We ate with the lights dimmed. Feeding each other. Telling stories about when we first met, the feelings that came up, the desires we felt, and how we kept them private for so long -- too long.

We slept in bliss that night. Thus began a long, rewarding relationship with Simone, the editor, the beauty, the chef, the lover.