The Appointment

"You can come up to my room silly, I won't bite." A quick flash of the smile that's always melted my heart as she disappeared around the corner. I fought down my foolish excitement and tried to keep my mind off her lips, the muscles of her back, her beautiful ass... I was trying so hard to be good.

We'd been friends for years, and I've always been attracted to her. But even though rotten timing had kept us from ever getting together, none of that strained our friendship any. We'd finished a long lazy wonderful lunch at her house, and my train was due in a few minutes. Then again, I'd never been in her room before...

The floor was a catastrophe of clothes, papers, and other sundries that somehow managed to feel homey rather than messy. The collage of photos, posters, drawings and clippings on the walls fit with the rest of the room: cluttered, but somehow beautiful.

"My humble abode. You like?"

"Of course m'lady." I looked at the pictures on the walls while she tended to her birds. Pictures of her and her sweetie, old friends, her little sister being cute....

"I'll be back in a sec. And don't worry. If it's on the floor, you can step on it."

I looked down at that and saw that I was standing on a pile of socks and bras. I had to smile at that. She was so beautiful it took my breath away, but when it came to organization.... Well, we all have our strengths and weaknesses after all... And my weakness....

At the sight of the bras, the body that occasionally filled them took form in my imagination. The soft curves I longed to trace, to feel pressed against me... Reluctantly I cleared the image away. She had harmlessly invited me to her room, and I should do my best to keep it harmless. Still, being in her room without her was oddly exciting. The same guilty thrill as a stolen kiss from sleeping lips. An explorer in uncharted if not quite forbidden territory.

I stepped over to her bookshelf to take my mind off the warm flush that was beginning to fill me. You can learn a lot about someone from their bookshelves, even if you've known them for a while. Hers was pretty diverse. Books on philosophy and religion, books in French, children's books, erotica... LOTS of erotica. Gay, straight, novels, short stories... I wonder if....

As I turned to look at the bookshelf by her bed, I saw something out of the corner of my eye. Something in an open dresser drawer. Curiosity overcoming prudence, I peered into her dresser. Amid the panties, garters, and stockings was a small pile of magazines with titles like "On Our Backs" and "Anything That Moves." I opened one with a wry grin. Yup, smut. And behind those were some condoms, a most impressive looking dildo, and a power cord that probably led to some kind of...

"Ahem. Looking for something?"

I could hear the smile in her voice, but I still froze in embarrassment. Even if I pretended not to see the toys and magazines, I was still standing there with my hands in her undies. Reason failed me, so I just said the first thing that popped into my head...

"I thought only guys kept drawers like this." Even as I said it I wanted to shrivel up and disappear, but her smile never even wavered.

"Of course not, silly! Did you think only guys ever got horny?" A soft warm laugh set me slightly more at ease as she approached. Her breasts brushed my arm as she reached around me to retrieve the dildo. "That's the biggest drawback to living with your parents. Even with a boyfriend, you still can't get laid whenever you want. Sometimes you have to take matters into your own hands."

The matter-of-fact way she said it, the sight of her standing there with an amused smile, absentmindedly stroking the disembodied cock... My throat went dry; a falling sensation grew in the pit of my stomach as I pictured it: She lay alone in her bed, the covers kicked aside, the reading lamp illuminating the thin sheen of sweat on her naked form. One hand holding a book up to half-open eyes, the other dancing between her legs, caressing her clit, bringing her closer and closer as the story nears its climax. The book falls away forgotten as eyes clench shut, muscles tense, breath races, back arches, fingers fly faster, faster... The gasp as orgasm washes over her is muffled so no one will hear. Her breathing slows, her flushed body still bathed in the glow of the single lamp...

The images, the afternoon's discoveries, the smell of her, the sight of her before me, the odd intimacy of being in her bedroom... It either made me brave or shut off rational thought all together. I heard myself say, "Would you like to make love?"

I couldn't believe what I'd just said. But even before shock, embarrassment, shame, or regret had time to form, she was kissing me. Softly. Slowly. Wonderfully. It may have lasted a second or an hour. I just know I never wanted it to end. But it did, and I found that being held by her was almost as wonderful.

"Mmmmm... I would love to. But my parents will be home any minute, and you should probably go catch your train. Tell you what, I'll come over to your place after diner. Say about 8?"

Another quick kiss and I left for the train. At least I assume I did. The next thing I have any clear memory of was sitting in my room trying to decide if any of it had really happened. I would have been convinced it was all just fantasy except that my lips still tingled, I could still taste her kiss, and my stomach still had that melty first-date feeling. Had we really just made an appointment to... what? I tried to come up with some sign that I had misinterpreted the conversation, but there just wasn't one.

We'd set up an appointment to have sex.

I was completely out of my depth. Sure it's the ideal: both parties know exactly what they want and make it clear to the other. But it never really happens like that. The young man is always trying and occasionally the young lady humors him. I must have misunderstood her. I must have.

But some how I knew I hadn't.

She always had been different. That was a lot of why she was so attractive. She was the only woman I've ever known to mention that she was horny in casual conversation. She was completely comfortable with her body and her sexuality. She discussed sex and desire more freely than anyone I'd ever met. And she always said exactly what she meant. She didn't fit any stereotype, and was all the sexier for it.

The rest of the afternoon passed. There was some house cleaning, a shower, a light diner, but mostly there was imagination. Images of her nude figure stretched along the sofa, of tearing her clothes off and greedily taking her on the floor, of water coursing over us as we kissed in the shower, of her hair thrown about her face as she came... As 8 o'clock approached, the images, the fantasy vignettes grew more real, more detailed until I could almost smell her, almost feel her skin, almost...

The doorbell. It took a moment to come back to reality, and a moment longer to (unsuccessfully) hide the telltale signs of my arousal. Then to the door. If she noticed me staring, she was too polite to mention it.

Or she was enjoying it...

It isn't often that reality is more beautiful than fantasy... A light green silk draped her from throat to ankle. The dress was a simple cut, framed by chestnut hair above, and what looked to be a very sexy pair of boots below. It showed no evidence of anything underneath. The slight Mona Lisa smile on her lips completed the image. Perfected it. I spent long moments trying to memorize every detail of her before she broke the tableau, coming into my arms for a kiss.

It was delicious: exploring her lips and mouth while my hands roamed the soft silk along her back and sides, the softer skin beneath... As my tongue slid along hers, I was intensely aware of her thighs against mine (no chance of hiding my arousal now), her breasts pressed into my chest.

Suddenly very self-conscious, I broke the kiss, and invited her inside. One of us probably closed the door. I was mostly concentrating on walking over to the couch without tripping or saying anything stupid. I found myself staring at her body again, and made myself look away. To say that I felt awkward would have been something of an understatement. I asked her how her parents were, how she spent the rest of her afternoon, how her littler brother's soccer game went. The small talk sounded artificial even to me. She moved closer to me on the couch and cuddled up to my side. Her feet pulled up underneath her; her head lay on my chest, my hand in both of hers...

"Excuse me," she interrupted, still curled up in my lap, "if you'd like to snuggle and chat all evening, I don't mind. In fact it sounds wonderful." Then her head lifted, her eyes claiming mine. "But I was rather hoping to have some naked fun with a cute boy I know. It's up to you." She squeezed my hand, and put her head back down on my chest. She could tell I was a little flustered, and was giving me time to work things out. God she was wonderful...

Then again, what was there to figure out? She could hear my heart beat, feel the bulge in my pants. She must have known my answer before I did. Still, this was going a bit faster than I was comfortable with.

"How about a massage" I asked, pulling her a little closer. She unfolded from my lap and stood. That playful sparkle still danced in her eyes, but there was something else there too. Amusement? Excitement? Hunger?

"Deal" she said as she turned on her heel to walk towards my bedroom. Without breaking stride, she shrugged off her dress and green silk pooled behind her.

By the time I found my legs to follow her, she lay on her stomach in my bed, pulling her hair up off of her neck.

"Put on some music?" she asked, her head to the side on my pillow. The unbroken expanse of bare skin from the arch of her foot to the nape of her neck... Her perfect ass, the swell of a breast pressed beneath her, a glimpse of her sex between slightly parted legs... It took me several seconds to comprehend her request and several more before I could actually do anything about it. She was so beautiful lying there, completely comfortable, completely relaxed. Waiting. For me.

I put on some Peter Gabriel and lit a few candles. I realized that I was moving around the room just to look at her a little longer. It was almost as though touching her would break the spell, wake me up from this wonderful fantasy. This was too good to be true. This beautiful girl naked in my bed... Her eyes closed, she looked so peaceful, so content, so innocent.

She stretched her arms above her head, drawing my attention back to her body, her muscles, her curves... Peaceful perhaps. But innocent? A wry smile found my lips. Hardly.

"Forgotten about me cutie?" she teased, breaking my reverie. I suddenly felt odd being fully dressed, but didn't quite know how much to take off.

"Just getting comfortable m'lady" I replied, pulling my shirt over my head. After a moment's indecision, I stepped out of my pants as well. I moved to the bed, rubbing my hands together to warm them, and knelt on either side of her hips. I continued to warm my hands, letting the anticipation build (hers or mine?) then reached down to knead the muscles of her shoulders.

I couldn't tell you if it was a gasp, a moan, or a sigh, but the sound she made when our skin met turned me on far more than even the sight or feel of her beneath me. I kneaded her shoulders, her upper arms, her neck, down her back, working out any tension I found there. My eyes closed as I focused on my task, feeling the muscles under her skin, focusing on her responses. Whenever she made her purring contented noise I lingered there a bit longer.

Without my hands leaving her, I moved beside her so I could continue to massage her ass, her thighs, her calves, her feet, and back up again. I was still working my fingertips into the muscle of her upper thigh when somewhere, from a long way off, I heard her dreamy voice say "If you keep that up, I might just fall asleep on you." I slid my hands up her back, along her arms, and finally covered her hands in mine, covering her body with mine. My lips nearly touching one ear, I whispered "That wouldn't be so bad, would it?" A gentle kiss to her earlobe, her cheek, the base of her neck. We rose and fell with her breathing. Then after another long, delicious moment then I moved from her. "But perhaps I'll keep you awake a bit longer..."

"Mmmmm.... Promise?" In reply I rolled her to her back and kissed her. Soundly. What began as a light caress deepened into something much more... primal. All gentle romantic flirtation forgotten, months of building lust and need burst forth. Tongues darted past one another, lips mashed together, teeth nipped. I moved atop her, and her arms circled my back, pulling me against her. Moans mingled with the fierce kiss as our breathing quickened. Our muscles began to tense, pressing together rhythmically. An offer? A promise? A preview of things to come?

As our hips ground together, the kiss forgotten. I could feel how wet she was even through the fabric of my underwear. As I found the right angle and pressure there was a gasp at my ear, then teeth biting into my shoulder. Only a thin layer of cotton separated us. I wanted her so much. "Yes."

Was that her voice or did I need her so badly I was imagining things? "Yes." The fingers that pulled my briefs from me answered that question. I could feel her, hot, wet, slick, alive against the tip of my cock. I no longer wondered if this was real. I could no longer think at all. A moan (impatient?) as fingers (hers or mine?) applied a condom. Then her hips were trying to bring me inside of her. Her breath, throaty, needy, resolved almost into words. "Please."

Suddenly everything aligned and I was inside of her. For a moment we were both still. Enveloped within her, her warmth felt like a caress, a promise, a dream. She gripped me, surrounded me, held me within and without. It felt like... beauty.

Then as suddenly as the tableau formed, it dissolved. She bit my earlobe hard and my hips bucked involuntarily. I drove deeper into her, forcing her into the mattress. We slid just far enough apart to slam together again. And again. Relentlessly, without delicacy or deliberation. There was no building, no finding a rhythm, I thrust into her and her hands gripping my ass drove me on. Need had turned us both to animals, fucking, writhing, each ripping pleasure from the other. Every muscle strained as I took her, rode her, ground into her. Her nails dug into me, her face a mask of ecstasy and agony. I could feel her convulse, first her jaw, then her arms, then her thighs, then her cunt as she exploded, her frenzy impossibly reaching a higher pitch. Just when it seemed we would rip each other apart, I burst within her, the world ending in a pulse of sensation.

We both took a long time to recover. Hell, it seemed like hours before we could breath normally. Our ears still rung from our own screams. The air cooling burning skin, the feel of her still beneath me, surrounding me... I don't know if she slept, and I'm not even sure if I did. Somehow lying together was almost as wonderful as what we'd just shared, and at least as intimate. Finally, reluctantly, I broke the silence. "Do you want to take a shower?" I could actually feel her chuckle from inside of her.

"Sure" she replied. But neither of us moved. "Eventually" she said, and softly laughed again. Another long moment.

"You know" I heard myself say, "we should really do this again sometime.

"Any time" she sighed into my ear. "Anytime."

She really was something else. Who would have guessed that all I had to do was ask?