byAlex Finch©

I’m lying awake, at three. Little else to do but wait. I never had her when I wanted her, now she’s here every night. Home from college, which seems to change everything. Hot night. Sweltering night. The humidity nulls any relief my open window can provide. I’m sweating, under my single sheet. My watch: two fifty-one, exactly. She’ll be here any minute now. I lie down, and dream of old things.

I saw her there, running across the fields, high school girl. Hair dyed green, which caught my eye. She’s bubbly, and cute. Short, but supple. Fleshy legs, pale skin. Impish smile, freckles all over. I did not see her all over at first.

Heartbreak is exquisite when you stop to appreciate it. So much emotion rushing through you; it’s like what the Tantric would describe as a sustained orgasm, except the energy is not joyful. It’s fire, but fire can warm as well as burn. It was better then. Stealing glimpses at her bra, as we jogged. The whisper quick exposure of flesh, as the wind picks up. Her warm, wonderful breast bouncing in her brown bra. Lacy. But I couldn’t touch it. Could barely kiss her. I’d die for her cool lips on mine, because I knew that was all I’d get. Beautiful girl, beautifully chaste. That is what killed us.

But college changes everything.

A soft rap at my window, and I know it’s time. I’m hard already, in spite of myself. I open the window, and pull her in. She stands before me gasping for breath, having run all the way here from her house, three miles away, in the night heat. Her beet-red face grins wildly as she huffs in air, her chest pounding in and out. She’s dressed in flannel pajama shorts and a matching button-down shirt. The shirt is too big on her, so it seems she’s only wearing the top. She has white sneakers on, and white socks with blue rims, kissing the flushed skin of her ankles. Moving close to her, I can smell her; her coconut body lotion, mixed with feminine sweat. It turns me on more than usual. She is soaked in sweat.

“Best time ever,” she whispers between breaths.

“You’re too good,” I respond, smiling vaguely.

“Hey, I can move when I’ve got something to run for. All ready?”

“Yeah… you think we could…” I begin. She’s already pulling up my shirt.

“Could what? I love it the way we do it now.” Her inflection is that of a schoolgirl, happy to get her way. “C’mon blowup doll, you love it too.”

She’s right of course. I love it. Hell, I dream about it, and I get it every night. I hesitate, my bare chest now exposed for her. She sits down on my bed, and crosses her legs.

“Take it off… lemme see it.” Her eyes light up with genuine sparkle.

I pull off my pants, revealing my erect dick and the rest of me too. Pre-cum is already sparkling at the tip.

“Mmmm… I love it. Now clean me up,” she says, shutting her eyes. I caress her cheek with my fingers. “Come on!” she whines, jiggling her whole body. I kiss the tip of her nose.

The shoes are the first to go. I untie them slowly, and pull them off her feet, one at a time. Her socks are damp with sweat. They feel so soft in my hands, though, and she moans audibly for the first time as I rub her feet. Slow caress from the tips of her toes to the balls of her heels. She rubs her right foot all over my naked body as I concentrate on the left. The cotton wetness warms me as it passes up and down my chest, and around my thighs. I grab it for a second, and massage my dick for a while. She gets the picture and envelops my penis between both her feet, rubbing up and down. I lean back and kiss her knees as she works, and I run my fingers up her legs. Always shaven every day; she swims too. My fingertips dance up to inside the leg of her shorts, and I tease the rim of her panties, still hidden from me. I stand.

Her eyes are still shut, and I kiss her eyelids. My kisses travel down her face, catching the side of her lips. She does not respond. I kneel before her, and undo the bottom few buttons of her shirt, and push aside the soft material. Her shorts are very skimpy, the legs barely lower than her waist. I kiss the naked flesh of her tummy, and roll my tongue into her navel. She’s getting hotter, and she’s sweating again. I lick her all the way up to her ribs, then down to slightly inside her shorts. She wraps her legs around my back. The feel of her sweaty flesh on mine is a joy. I unbutton the rest of her shirt, and brush it off her body. I kiss her breasts, under her bra, which is the color of rust, a dull brown. My kisses grow more and more frantic, all over her chest. I squeeze her sides as she squeezes mine. We stick to each other from the sweat on our nearly nude bodies, and I’m breathing so hard now. Pressure is rising in my dick, in my stomach, as I lick her neck. I stand and kiss her mouth, exploring every inch with my tongue. She does not try to kiss back. She’s caught up in the moment, caught up in her Zen-like state of immersion. I kiss her fiercely, my cock driven between her warm legs, her shorts so wonderful against it. I finish my kiss and stand her up. The shorts fall to the ground. Her panties match her bra, and they cling perfectly to her ass, so wet with sweat and her own arousal. She smells like musk now, her skin freshly licked and her pussy so dripping with need.


I stop for a second, and push her away. She falls onto the bed, and sits up, her eyes wide with curious anger.

“Hey! What the hell’s the matter with you?”

“I… I’m really not sure. I don’t like this any more. It… it’s…”

“What?” She still looks wonderful just sitting there in her underwear, those panties just barely visible between her crossed legs. “Why… I… I know you like it…”

“I do, I do like it, but… shit, why don’t you… respond to me? Huh? Why don’t you touch me at all?”

“I touch you silly…”

“Yeah, but you don’t take the initiative at all. You sit there and accept everything. Why?”

She looks at me, honestly not understanding. “Because you like it this way. And I always enjoy it too. Are we in love?”

I’m caught off guard by her question. “What… why do you say…”

“Are we in love? Answer my question. I run over here every night and we fuck our brains out and why do we do it? Are we in love?”

“No… I don’t think we are.”

“Fine. Then I should enjoy fucking for what it is. Right?”


“And all you’ve ever wanted to do is fuck me. That’s why we broke up in high school.” Her fire. Her fire is rising. “I didn’t want to have sex with you but you wanted me and now you’re getting exactly what you want. You can please me. You can pick me right up off my feet and take me directly to the point of no goddamn return just like you always wanted to. And I like it.”

“Then why don’t you respond to anything? Why don’t you try to make me feel good?”

“Because I like to just sit here and accept things as they happen. I like to be fucked. You like to fuck. That’s why I come here all the time. We complete each other.” She licks sweat off her lips. Seconds ago that pink tongue was in my mouth. I keep thinking that as she talks. And maybe that means something…

“I think you’re being selfish.”

“I’m maximizing my pleasure. We’re not in love so we’re having sex for pleasure, right? And I’m not having sex with anyone else because I know you. You like to please. That’s sweet, and I need that.”

“Well I need to accept pleasure too sometimes. I want to be on top, so to speak, for once. I want to try it that way.”

She looks into my eyes, through them, and into my mind. She nods softly at first, and hops to her feet and nods again. Unsmiling, she kisses my lips so softly, a baby’s kiss. She puts her arm around my waist and whispers:

“C’mon then. I’ll do this once.”

And we walk out of my stuffy room, myself totally nude, and she clad in her bra, panties, and socks. We walk to my front door, open it quietly, so not to wake the others in the house, and slip outside. My breath speeds up as I realize with a flash that I am outside, away from the privacy and safety of the house, naked and defenseless. And at the same time, it’s relieving, as the air has a cool breeze, which feels wonderful on my sweaty skin, so sensual on my aroused penis, coupled with her naked arm around me. We walk softly, so the rocks on the road don’t hurt our feet.

“Who’s that girl you used to tell me about?” she asks.

“What girl?”

“The one you liked to watch... you know… in the bushes.”

“Oh. Kirsty.”

“Yeah. I used to think you were such a perv. Look who’s talking, huh?”

We chuckle together, and she squeezes me a little tighter. But I look down and the smile she should have has already faded. Total seriousness marks her next question.

“She lives around here, right?”


“Let’s go.”

Kirsty lived in a large house up my street and over to the left. It was a ranch home, with large picture windows. One of which provided an excellent portal into her room. She rarely drew the shades, and I had spent many a night creeping near the window, waiting for her to come home (from a long night of partying usually) and drunkenly strip off most, and on glorious nights, all off her clothing. She was my placebo. I knew the way into her yard by heart.

“I haven’t done this in a while,” I began.

“You remember.”

I’m thrilled beneath my fear. I’m walking totally naked into a girl’s yard, to do who knows what. It’s… it’s wonderful. It’s flawlessly exhilarating. It empowers me more than anything else ever has. Another heavenly breeze washes me with her sweet breath as we approach Kirsty’s window. No shades, of course. The two of us peer in. I am actually shaking with anticipation. We press ourselves to the glass, to get the best look. She seems almost as intent as I am; her breasts (in bra) are smooshed up against the glass. I press my dick, now standing totally straight up, against the glass, adding an extra bolt of cool energy. Moonlight licks the room inside.

Kirsty lies in bed, in all her glory. She breathes slowly, snoring a bit every so often. Her single, silk blanket lays across only her left leg. Kirsty is gorgeous, with curly brown hair strewn about on her pillow. The stars catch light off of the peach lip-gloss on her full mouth. Her skin is a deep olive, so smooth and tempting. Her breasts are huge and totally natural, nearly falling out of her hot pink sports bra, as her chest swells up with each satisfied night breath. I inhale sharply as my eyes caress her downward. The cover shields much of her waist as well as the single leg, but her right hip reveals the almost invisible lip of a lemon-drop yellow thong. She also wears wooly socks (she once told me her grandmother knitted them for her; she wears them for good luck, even in summer), brown, and so big they run up to almost her knees. The left one, however, is hanging off her foot halfway. I gasp as a strong gust invigorates my entire body, and I notice a line of pre-cum running from my dick to the window as I back away.

“Why are… we… why are we doing this?” I stammer.

“Shh.” She’s behind me now. “Don’t think about me.” Her hand softly explores the crack of my ass, and her fingertips slowly ascend my back. “The worst thing you can do now is think of me. React to me. Help me if you want, but try not to respond directly to me. Think about her.”

Her hands dance up my chest, quickly and slowly, and I decide to follow her orders and look forward. I watch Kirsty breathe. I close my eyes, and her hands seem to work in unison with the wind. My body grows hot again even as the air cools it slightly, and the contrast is marvelous. I concentrate. I see Kirsty’s nipples are hard under her bra. Her chest heaves in a great yawn, and I feel my girl’s tongue on my back. She licks me softly, up and down, and my breathing is faster and faster. I close my eyes and imagine. I see Kirsty standing before me. She smiles and removes her… no, no, she rips off her bra. Her boobs bounce free. Always smiling she licks the palms of her hands oh so slowly with her long tongue. I can feel… I can feel her in front of me now, her tongue sliding up and down my legs, that tan bra rubbing against my knees. I concentrate more on my vision of Kirsty. Her hands are wet with saliva now, and she rubs those awesome breasts all over till they are wet and red. She pinches the large purple nipples, her eyes slamming shut in ecstasy. My mind’s eye goes downward, and her legs are spread so wide, so wide, that blinding yellow thong tight against her pussy, hot wetness softly trickling onto her thighs. I see… I…

She’s in my mouth. My arms instinctively squeeze her as she kisses me deeply and fully. I am obedient and do not respond in the least, and her tongue explores ever nook and cranny of my mouth. I absorb her power, her lust, and her need to please me. I look down to see her bare back, and notice for the first time that her own, little breasts are scrunched against me, as she kisses my neck.

“No looking,” she whines, that schoolgirl tone again, in between kisses. She reaches her foot up behind her back, and snatches off one sock with a free hand. She’s behind me again, and swiftly ties the sock around my eyes, blindfolding me. I can see nothing at all. She sits me down on Kirsty’s windowsill. And does nothing. I keep dreaming anyway. She’s running through those endless green fields, all of her underwear so visible through her uniform. She’s that unattainable goal, my Holy Grail. The glass is so damn cool on my back as I sit. I feel her on me now. He knees on my lap. Her body… twists… and her legs are suddenly around my neck. She’s upside down on me, as I feel her tits on my chest, those tiny balls of flesh. And in a glorious single movement, she takes my whole penis into her mouth. Her body writhes and curls around me as she sucks my dick as hard as she can. I smell her musk all over my face, her thighs and the wet fabric of her panties smother my face, intoxicating me fully. I cannot see, but I imagine her enveloping my body. I breathe more and more deeply, filling myself with her sexual scent, letting her teasing tongue her inviting mouth her squishy body and strong legs become one in a zone of total pleasure for me.

I am so drunk with her attention, with the night air, with Kirsty’s breathing behind us, I don’t cum. I should have cum minutes ago, but I didn’t. I want this pleasure to last, to last forever, to sit and take all that is giver to me. And she furiously blows me upside-down for what has to be ten minutes. Maybe twenty. My face is so sticky with her own moist arousal. Finally, she rolls off me. My dick is suddenly freezing from being in her mouth for so long and suddenly in the summer’s air again. She pulls the sock off me, and I see her red, flushed face gasping in air. I am stunned by how much she has worked, and her mouth and face are moist with her own saliva and my pre-cum.

“Turn around,” she orders.

I comply, and hear her rustle behind me. I gaze into the window, and Kirsty has rolled over in her sleep. Her amazing, juicy ass in totally exposed, with only the thinnest touch of glowing yellow accentuating it. I devour the flawless lines on her thighs, so perfectly connected to those ass cheeks. From behind me, I am blinded again. From the moistness, I know it’s her panties, now off, and pushed into my face. I shut my eyes as tightly as I can, and inhale the deepest and most powerful breaths I ever took, sucking in every drop of her feminine smell, her smell of sex. I feel her in front of me now. I catch a quick glimpse between her fingers, and see she is now standing on the windowsill, her ass pressed against the glass, her pussy fully shaved and red and waiting. I move forward, blinded again, and she mounts me, like climbing onto a horse.

It all hits me at once. We are two young people, barely out of our teens. We are standing in a yard. We are fucking, standing up, in front of a window. Anyone can walk by and see us. I don’t care. I don’t care at all. I’m alive, so alive that I’m sure I must die at any moment. I don’t fuck her; she rolls and bounces for me. Her panties are gone now and I don’t care. I see nothing but joy.

I am the only person in the world.

Only. Only.

I cum without a sound, as no sound could fit the moment right. I don’t breathe. In the back of my head, in some other universe perhaps, I feel tears stream down my face.

And in an instant, I am back to reality.

I softly lift her off me, and hug her. I am relieved to find that she hugs back, and plants a smooch on my chest. We leave her clothes behind, and walk naked and tired and stumbling back to my house.

Back to my bed. I sit down, exhausted.

“So how was it?” she asks, pulling her pajamas back onto her dripping flesh.

“That was, without a doubt, the single greatest experience of my life.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I know. Same for me.”

An awkward silence.

“You know,” she says, “I can’t come here anymore.”

I recoil. “Why? Wasn’t I good enough… I mean…”

“No. You liked it. Just like I liked it my first time. Now you can’t be giving like you were before.”


“I’m… I’m sorry. But you know how good it is now. I need someone who can give without knowing how nice it is to receive.”

I look downward. “Who else is there?”

“I don’t know. Someone I hope. You… you gave like no one else. Maybe I was cruel, but you wanted me so much you… you just gave like no one else.”

Her shoes are on minus socks. She is starting to crawl through the window.

“I… I think I can still give. I can try.” I grasp for words. “Because… I’m the same way. I can’t give to anyone like I gave to you.”

She looks back at me. I continue.

“And… and maybe you can’t give to anyone else like you gave to me. Maybe you wanted to give to me back in school and… and now you can… maybe. Maybe.”


Her lips move. Nothing comes out. They move again.

“Maybe. Maybe I’ll be back.”

And she’s out the window and running.

I lay back, so tired on my bed. I think I feel tears, different from the ones before, welling up, but they won’t fall. Maybe she’ll be back.

I need her back.

Sugar baby.

* * * * *

Copyright 2001 Alex Finch. All rights reserved.

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