The Storytellers Ch. 03

Belva had a full set of curves which nobody had seen fit to improve on. She was giving me one of her best smiles, ( as it turned out, she had several) and her mouth was as sensual as I could stand without excusing myself to run into the stall in the men's room and relieve myself.

She looked at me with a sort of absent expression, and then gave me a smile I could feel in my hip pocket. "You're something, you know?" she said softly, as we melded together under the spell of Sinatra's smooth, mellow voice.

"And you're not?" I replied, as my dick tapped at her groin. She was listening to me with her lips slightly parted, and a rapt expression on her face, as if she was looking at the Dalai Lhama. Then she laughed softly, and moved her hips a little faster than the music called for. I began to hope that this might just turn into something very nice for the two of us.

Apparently Belva was on the same wave-length, for as the second consecutive slow dance came to an end, she whispered in my ear, "I don't care for being stared at. Why don't we go to my place?"

I looked around, ready to fight to protect my ladies honor.

"No, don't start nothing; let's just go."

"Now you're cooking with gas," I replied, and pulled her tight against me, making certain she could feel my manhood before we left.

*****

Ten minutes later we were in her apartment. She made us both strong drinks, and handed me mine. She sat down, and crossed her legs a little carelessly. She drank a sip or two. I mimicked her. But when she finished her glass with a big swallow, and set it aside, I held mine an inch from my mouth and waited.

She told me about her interests; of just moving to town and not having any friends. I told her about my interests, and how much I wanted to fill in her friendship void. She gazed at me with her blue eyes shining, and said, "Roy, you're really a very sweet guy."

We both felt a need to take a drink at that point, and did.

"You were in the war, weren't you?"

I nodded, and when I saw that wasn't enough to satisfy her, added, "North Africa and then Normandy."

"Oh," she said. "Did you kill anyone?"

"I don't know," I told her. "It's very possible. I usually kept shooting until my rifle ran out of ammo. The last time I got shot before running out of ammo."

"My God, what did you do then?"

"I waited for the medics and hoped to hell whoever shot me didn't try again."

Her mouth dropped, and after a slight pause, she said, "I'm so sorry, I... I didn't think you'd been wounded." She quickly emptied her glass, and just as quickly filled it, or almost filled it.

I shook my head, declining another refill, and said, "That particular day it was pretty hard not to have been shot at least once."

"Oh, my! Roy, how many times..."

"Twice."

"Twice," she said, repeating my words. I made no effort to correct her, and took a sip of my drink, it was scotch on the rocks, I think.

Suddenly she said, "To hell with this polite drinking. You know, you're a very good-looking guy, but you're not drinking."

"I'm doing what I call drinking."

She shrugged her pale shoulders and recrossed her legs. I caught a glimpse of garter and pale white thigh, before remembering to keep my eyes where they belonged. She took a healthy slug of her drink, and put it down; missing the coaster it was intended for by several inches. I took that as a good sign.

"Where?" Belva asked.

"Where what?"

"Where were you shot? How bad was it?"

"In the chest, and..." I paused, "um, my derrière."

"Your derrière," she said with that feminine tinkle men love to hear. "I think we'll get along just fine."

She reached for my glass and touched my fingers. Then despite my previous objection, she poured a fat slug of fine scotch into my glass, and added a drop of water. She gave herself the same treatment.

"You're a very good-looking dame," I volunteered, and adjusted my slacks.

"You're not getting drunk on me, are you?" she asked.

"I've been known to be soberer."

She put her head back and burst out laughing. I smiled sheepishly in response, and took a big gulp of scotch.

"You're gammin' me, ain't cha? Why don't you come and sit next to me?"

"I've been thinking about that for a while now," I said, "Ever since you crossed your legs."

She pulled at the hem of her dress. "These things are always up around my neck."

"That's exactly where I'd like to see it." I said, and grinned Cheshire-like, as I moved to sit beside her.

"You work fast," she said quietly, and took my nearly empty glass away from me and started to fill it up again.

I took the refilled glass out of her hand, transferred it to my left, and took hold of her left hand with my right. She squeezed my hand. I squeezed her back. After a moment, she looked down at the hand I was holding and laid her hand on mine and gently stroked the tops of my fingers, then traced my palm.

"Show me..." she said her breath hot against my ear. "I mean show me the wound in your chest."

Leaving my tie on, I opened my shirt. She ran her hand over my chest. My nipples hardened.

"What's your name again?"

"My name's Roy. And yours is Belva."

"How sweet, you remembered." She had her face turned toward me now, and looking into my eyes she stuck her tongue out and licked her lips. I didn't know anything about body language then; all I knew was that I had an overwhelming urge to kiss those wet, glistening, lips and see if I could get a taste of that delicious looking tongue.

She tweaked a nipple; and I croaked, "I did, didn't I."

"Kiss me, Roy." The sultry way she murmured my name had me falling in love with her. I pulled her to me; well maybe she fell into my arms, maybe she didn't, but I felt her embrace and I pulled back, uncertain as to how far this was going to go.

Belva looked into my eyes, worked her eyelashes and opened her mouth to say something... and I kissed her. When I got to her mouth it was open and burning. Our tongues found each other hesitantly, as if daring each other to make the first move. We opened our mouths wider, allowing for our tongues to meet aggressively. Our lips sucked and constricted.

I held Belva tightly to me, and she responded by sliding her hands down to the small of my back and pulling my hips against her own.

After the kiss, she laid her head on my shoulder, and continued to press her body against mine as she laid butterfly kisses on my cheeks.

I may have been naive, even rusty, for it had been three years since I'd been with a woman; and that had been my second experience. There had been a brief coupling just before I'd shipped out for basic training. Holly. We'd gone to college together and she was sweet on me. It was the first time for both of us, and as such, it didn't go well. She wrote to me and me to her for a year, and then she met another guy.

The Dear John letter followed, and that was that until I was limping along a Paris boulevard with the use of a cane while recovering from my wounds, when I met Edith. We spent an exhilarating weekend together in her garret. She taught me the way people are supposed to make love. She showed me how to go fast; how to go slow; how to please my partner, and I truly believe that I managed to please her. She certainly pleased me. Our brief encounter – I never saw her again − helped me recover faster than anyone had thought possible. But I'm rambling and should return to the matter at hand.

So, I wasn't completely dumb and put my arm around Belva's shoulder and held her even tighter than we had been before. With my arm that way, my hand was draped down the front of her shoulder at the very top of her breast, where the beginnings of its gentle slope just showed above the almost transparent, dark blouse she was wearing. With just the lightest of touches, I traced little circles on the black lace underneath, gradually increasing the pressure so that there was no way she could fail to notice. All through the process, my hand was shaking from nervousness and excitement.

After a few minutes of this action, Belva lifted her hand to cover mine.

'Well, it was nice while it lasted,' I thought to myself, expecting her to move my hand back up to her shoulder. Instead, she pulled it down even further to where it covered her whole breast, and then pressed it against the up-thrust mound. My hand automatically cupped the firm, rounded globe and squeezed it gently.

"Ummm, that's so much nicer," Belva said, smiling.

I lowered my mouth to hers and kissed her again. She put her hand on my neck and drew my face even closer. At first, the kiss lingered on just the lips, but then I tentatively thrust the tip of my tongue out and brushed it across the soft skin of lower lip. Her hand squeezed the back of my neck, and her tongue came out of hiding and touched mine, playing games with it. She had me tingling everywhere.

Our kiss continued for what seemed an eternity, but was really only a moment. We were now face to face, and I was squeezing and kneading her right breast, while our tongues swirled and delved into each other's mouth.

Belva finally pulled back and broke the kiss.

I took the opportunity to blurt out: "I won't make you do anything you don't want to. If tonight isn't feeling right, I can wait. I don't want to push you to anything. And I'm sorry if I already have."

Ignoring my every word, Belva said, "Wait a second, this is in the way," and after unbuttoning her blouse, put her hands to her back and unsnapped the clasp of her bra, then pulled it completely off, baring those magnificent breasts to my eyes.

"There, now, that's better," she said, leaning back against the couch.

'Better?' I thought it was unbelievable! As my eyes hungrily devoured the vision of Belva leaning back with the high, twin mounds of her breasts completely exposed. She reached out to my hands and pulled them up to the creamy while hills, and placed them on top, then pressed them into the soft billows of her flesh. Her hands then went to the back of my neck and pulled my mouth down to hers, her mouth already open and waiting for a continuation of our tongue loving.

Finally the kiss broke, and gasping for air but gasping even more for Belva, I dove for her cleavage and pushed my face into her chest. Her warm breasts pressed against my face as I hungrily licked and sucked them, desperate to get as much of the soft flesh into my mouth. I found a nipple, put my whole mouth around it and licked and sucked madly. Then, with impatience and frenzy, I moved to her other nipple to give it the same treatment.

I could hardly believe how firm yet soft her breasts were. Each one completely filled a hand; each one a handful of hot, pliant girl flesh. Belva's nipples were hard and standing out like little nubbins as I moved them softly between my fingertips. She arched her back up to my caresses and whispered, "Ohhhh, that's so nice."

I was practically drooling by now. I broke the kiss and moved my mouth down to her front, taking a nipple between my lips.

"Yes, suck on them, suck hard," Belva muttered, pushing her chest hard against my mouth. I obeyed, pulling as much of a breast into my mouth as possible, and sucking and slavering the area with my tongue. Her breathing was much faster now; almost as fast as mine. "Oooooohh, yes, that's the way!" she whispered.