Brooklyn, New YorkbyEnjoy.©
Brooklyn stepped over the threshold into Jonathan's studio apartment. Oh, man, what am I doing here, Brooklyn thought. She had known this man for all of twenty minutes—met him in a coffee shop down the street—and here she was, standing in the doorway of his shabby apartment as he tried to push piles of dirty laundry under the bed and behind furniture.
"Sorry it's so messy," Jonathan smiled embarrassedly, "Usually, I'm the only one here."
The shyness in Jonathan's voice softened Brooklyn and she took a few more steps into the room. "It's ok, man, I'm messy too."
"Oh, ok," a childish smile spread across his face. He shoved his hands in his pockets and looked around sheepishly. "Well, this is it," he shrugged.
Brooklyn softened even more. He didn't look like a psycho murderer, just like an embarrassed little boy who had problems talking to girls. And Brooklyn understood that. She had always fit in with the guys, but talking to women confused and mystified her as much as any man. Too bad she loved fucking them as much as any man did.
But Brooklyn wasn't here to fuck any woman. She was here for Jonathan, whose tall, square frame attracted her with a new intensity. She'd never been with a man like this, but after her break with Anna, she'd decided that it was about time for some new experiences. She walked over to Jonathan, who was standing by his unmade, pullout bed, and planted a kiss on his soft, warm lips. She rested her hands on his chest, feeling the way his thin knit sweater fell over his hard body. Her hands wandered, exploring his chest, neck, the small of his back as she kissed him. In an instant, Jonathan forgot his embarrassed self and lost himself in Brooklyn. He kissed her back, wrapped his arms around her tiny frame, and took in her body, her confidence, and her charismatic, laid-back attitude. Brooklyn pulled back and laughed, "Let's start this, ok?"
Jonathan smiled, that evasive grin washing over his face. He couldn't believe this was happening to him. Brooklyn's outright confidence turned him on and seemed to extenuate her fine, athletic build. Jonathan knew that he was much stronger than Brooklyn, that he could take total control of her body if he wanted, but her self-assurance more than made up for the slightness of her physique, and this intimidated him. He didn't know exactly what she would let him do with her, but he knew that he wanted her, wanted to come inside her and break her laid-back façade with screams of pleasure.
He pulled off his sweater and drew Brooklyn to him again, running his fingers through her cropped black hair, smoothing his hands firmly down her back, around to her flat, hard stomach, over her small, soft breasts. He held her narrow hips and slid his hands up her torso, taking her shirt with them. He pulled the garment over her head and let it drop to the ground as he took her in his arms again, his strong hands huge on her fine back, guiding her body into him.
Brooklyn could feel Jon's desire for her; a musky, rough, masculine craving that she hadn't felt in the long months with Anna. His insistent physicality sent waves of yearning through her and she knew that she wanted him, and she wanted him now. Forcefully, she pulled him to her by his belt, then roughly unbuckled it and pulled open his button fly. Jonathan returned her passionate savagery, tearing at the clasps on her taupe French bra until they pulled free and it fell away from her body. He took her firmly, pinning her fine body between his hard chest and his commanding hands as he explored her breasts. He pulled back from Brooklyn's mouth to watch his own fingers as they ran over the teardrop mounds, her tight nipples like drops of espresso in cream. He enjoyed watching the effect that he had on her body, and as she began to squirm from the sensations he was sending through her sensitive skin, he held her tighter, checking her movement, forcing her to endure him.
Brooklyn was exhilarated and enraged. She had never been controlled like this, never had anyone explore her body so confidently, never had someone return her roughness with such ease. Brooklyn grabbed Jon's wrists, pulling his searching fingers away from her body. She pushed him backward, five steps until he was against the wall. She held Jon's arms against the wall, pressing her body against his and kissing him hard. When Jon pressed his tongue deep into her mouth, she pressed back with equal force. He half-heartedly tried to move his hands, but she dug her blunt fingernails into his wrists and forced his arms back, slamming his fists into the cold plaster.
Feeling effectively in control, Brooklyn began working her way down Jonathan's body; kissing his lips, his neck, his smooth chest. When she reached his hard, flat stomach, Brooklyn smiled. She'd picked a good one. Jon's slim physique left no want for musculature, and his tight abdominal muscles rippled under the tickling of her lips. She smelled his sweet masculine scent, a smoky mix of wool, soap, and earthy sweat. Her lips opened and she let her tongue trail over his taught skin, tracing the shape of his abdominal muscles. She pressed her body against his legs as she licked him, her breasts against the hard lump that had already formed in his pants. Jon tried to shake her hands free from his wrists to touch her, but she held him firmly and smiling, looked up at him and whispered, "Be a good boy."
Laughing, he put his head back and felt her taunting tongue move down his stomach, past his belly button and along the edge of his boxer-briefs. After an excruciating minute and a half of playful nibbles and licks, Brooklyn let go of Jon's hands and pulled off his worn jeans, his now irritating underwear.
Brooklyn knelt for a moment at Jon's waist, his hard, erect dick directly in front of her. She turned her eyes up and saw him watching her. "You're hard for me," She said.
Jon laughed in frustration, "No fuck," he returned, moving his hands towards her head.
"Nope," she said, intercepting his arms and pushing them back against the wall. She stood and pressed herself into his body once more, feeling his hard flesh pressed between their hips. "That was bad. And bad boys don't get what they want," she joked, rubbing her body against him, feeling him swell beneath her stomach with frustration. Brooklyn kissed him again, and with one hand, she slowly encircled Jon's thick rod, even more slowly sliding her hand up its shaft, then down, then up again. She pulled away, her lips inches from his open mouth as she tortured his desire. With her free hand, she unzipped her own jeans and let them drop to the floor along with her underwear, kicking them away from her as they fell.
"Condom?" She whispered. For answer, Jon cast his eyes at the night stand table to his left. Brooklyn reached down as she continued to stroke Jon's dick slowly, sliding open the table's single drawer and grabbing a condom from the stack inside, ripping the package open with her teeth, and bringing it to the tip of Jon's now pulsing cock. She slipped it over the head, hardly able to get her fingers around his generous flesh. Sliding the condom on, she continued to stroke him, now quicker and more firmly, sometimes jerking ever so slightly. She was rewarded by a single moan; a hoarse, deep rumble. But Jon was not a patient man. Just as Brooklyn was about to slow her stroking again, Jon grabbed her with all his strength, and holding her fine hips in his strong hands (his hands nearly touching in the center of her back), he lifted her off the ground. Brooklyn instinctively wrapped her legs around him, her arms around his shoulders. He bore her weight entirely for a moment as he kissed her hard and rubbed his sheathed penis against her body, desperately searching for release. Turning to the wall, he slammed her back against it. Jon's biceps bulged as he lifted her higher and then brought her down on his engorged cock, thrusting into her hard, feeling his dick force open her tight, wet slit, feeling the heat of her pussy surround him, the urgency of his need finally met.
Brooklyn drew in a hard breath as Jonathan penetrated her. She felt him plough into her, awakening the senses on the inside of her skin, sending shocking waves of pleasure through her whole body. Brooklyn wrapped her arms around Jon's head, grasping his body desperately as an wild moan escaped her throat. "Oh, fuck," she whispered hoarsely into his ear.
Jon thrust into Brooklyn again, her weight pushing her deep onto him, pushing him deep inside her. "Yeah," he said. "I thought you said I couldn't have what I wanted, but here I am, tearing deep into you, fucking you," He thrust again, this time harder. Brooklyn moaned. "Jon, yes," was her only reply.
Jon was quiet then, his wit spent and his concentration solely on his penis inside Brooklyn's tight pussy. He thrust into her over and over, breathing hard and hearing Brooklyn's moans border on screams. She put her head back and it hit the wall with a loud thud every time he thrust. He kept going, forcing himself deeper and deeper into Brooklyn's hot, wet cunt. His legs began to tremble and he knew he couldn't hold her up much longer, so Jon held Brooklyn by her back and, without coming out of her, he carried her the two feet to the bed and laid her down, driving into her again from his new position. Brooklyn watched Jon fucking her, his muscles contracted and working; working his way into her body. She smelled his sweat and felt the rippling strength of his body, and it intoxicated her.
Without the burden of Brooklyn's weight on him, Jon got closer and closer to coming with each thrust. Brooklyn felt the desire pumping through his body and into her, and she pushed her hands against his chest. "Slow down," she said, "I'm not ready yet,"
He slowed down, and Brooklyn pulled his face to her, kissing him briefly. Then she pushed him away, pushed him out of her, and in his exhausted state, rolled him over on his back. Jon laid in the middle of his bed; the unmade sheets billowed about him in their tangled whiteness. Brooklyn straddled him, her cunt suspended above his dick. He throbbed with desire to cum inside her, and she felt the tightness in her body preparing her for an explosion.
"I want you to touch me," She said to him, lowering her body so that her wet pussy just touched the tip of his cock. She brought his hand between her legs and placed it over her clit, guiding it in light circles around the tight knot. She guided him as she began rocking on top of him, never allowing him to come more than half an inch into her. She led his fingers directly over her clit, lightly and slowly at first, then harder and faster. "Good- that's so good," she moaned. She moved her hand away from his and let him continue stroking. She swayed to his rhythm for a moment and then, with one sudden movement, she came down on him, thrusting his dick deep inside her again. The two of them moaned together in wild ecstasy. Brooklyn fucked herself on Jon's thick, hard rod, faster and faster, deeper and deeper as she let her body slam into his hips with each thrust. Jon started to cum in seconds, and Brooklyn just moaned, "Keep touching me, keep fucking me." She came a moment later, her whole body trembling as Jon's body tightened; him cumming inside of her, she gushing her ecstasy onto him.
Brooklyn collapsed next to Jon on the bed, exhausted and shivering from aftershocks of orgasm. He pulled the condom off and dropped it in the trashcan next to the bed. He looked over at her, both of them panting their exhaustion away.
They lay there for half an hour, making small talk and relaxing in the afterglow of fucking. Eventually, Jon found his jeans and pulled them on, and Brooklyn gathered her clothes, pulling on her sweater and jeans and shoving her underwear into her back pocket.
"Well, I gotta go, man," she said, walking towards the door. Jon walked to her awkwardly, his boyish embarrassment reinstated.
"Thanks for… coming over," He replied. Brooklyn smiled and leaned into Jon's body, enjoying the strength of his chest and the scent of his skin as she kissed him lightly on the cheek. "Anytime, man. I had a good time." As she opened the door, Jon handed her a folded strip of paper- her invitation to another contact. Brooklyn smiled as she stepped out of the apartment and let the door swing closed behind her. She knew she would never call the number on that paper, and the thought empowered her. She ambled down the hallway and began sauntering down the two flights of stairs, feeling incredibly self-satisfied. As she pushed open the door and stepped onto the street, she hit a girl who had been looking over her shoulder the other way, knocking her purse out of her hands and onto the street, it's contents spilling out onto the sidewalk. "Oh, shit, man, I'm sorry," Brooklyn exclaimed, bending to help the girl gather her items.
"Oh, no worries," the girl said, reaching around Brooklyn to grab a rolling tube of lip balm. Brooklyn grabbed for it as well, and as the women's fingers touched, the girl lifted her dark eyes and gazed at Brooklyn. "Thanks," she smiled, embarrassed at having stared too long.
"No problem" Brooklyn quipped. "Sorry for running into you in the first place."
"Don't be," the girl responded, her long dark lashes fluttering. She had the biggest eyes Brooklyn had ever seen. "Where are you headed in such a hurry?"
"I was thinking about getting some coffee," Brooklyn lied.
"Great, me too!" the girl said, and started off for the coffee shop that Brooklyn had left with Jon only hours ago. Brooklyn stood in the sidewalk, watching as the dark-eyed girl walk strolled away from her, hips swinging. "Coming?" she yelled back at Brooklyn. Brooklyn smiled widely. "Absolutely," she said, and ran to catch up.