Message-ID: <4895eli$9710161138@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: OscarPaco@aol.com Subject: In Search of Perfection (m/f, romance) Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: X-Original-Message-ID: <971015194928_-1160334945@emout02.mail.aol.com> The following story contains material of an adult nature and is therefore not intended for persons under the age of eighteen. In Search of Perfection Rose was a strawberry blonde who came into my life in high school under strange circumstances. She had just come out of a bad relationship with a guy, and though we didn’t know each other well, for some reason she took a shining to me. As it happened, I was single at the time, so our relationship developed naturally and slowly. I had never thought of her in a romantic way, but clearly she had decided to pursue me as her next interest. Not that I minded. She was a cute girl: short (about 5’3"), with freckles and a delightful smile. I was a senior in high school, she a junior. And the more I looked at her as she spilled her heart out concerning her failed relationship, the more I came to see that she was quietly attractive, stunning even, especially under the light as we walked through the neighborhood talking about life and love. It was an odd feeling walking next to her. I am 5’11" and have always dated girls who are relatively tall. I had never given shorter girls much thought until now. Until now. We reached a corner at the top of the hill by the viaduct. She touched my arm, and we stopped beneath a street lamp. The night was quiet, clear: a perfect Midwestern summer night, and when I turned to face her, she looked up at me with an expression I hadn’t seen before. Something longing, curious and soft. But there was also something dark in her gaze. "What I want to say is this," Rose continued. "I think I want you to kiss me." I was completely taken by surprise. Even though I had suspected she wanted this to happen, I hadn’t expected this kind of boldness, at least not this soon. But the light against her freckled cheek, the lamp reflected in her eyes, and the gently tilt of her neck made the decision easy. I kissed her. I had intended to make the kiss friendly, compliant, but Rose would have nothing of that. She pulled me into her and placed her tongue against my lips, then moved it past my teeth, and there we were: French kissing beneath a street lamp. The sensation was beyond nice. It was marvelous, involved, committed to something promising, and though I had not idea what that something was, I gave into to the warmth. We kissed for a good few minutes. A car driving toward the viaduct beeped its approval as it drove by. And by the time the kiss was over, everything had changed. *** The relationship developed naturally. Within a month, Rose told she thought she was falling in love. I felt the same way. Our intimacy had grown slowly, purposely, and though we still had not progressed into a full expression of our desires, we had certainly made each understand that this relationship was traveling down that path. We had not explored one another much beyond some groping in the dark in our cars, constant passionate kissing and snuggling every chance we got. I had no way of knowing then what was smoldering inside of us, what would eventually break through the surface of our longing. We took our time, trusting our patience, trusting our relationship. And it was worth it. We talked and talked. And more than once, our talk drifted into the sexual arena. We were happy to discuss our experiences – she was a virgin, I was not; neither of us were that well-versed in the ways of sex – and we found a way to lean into the probable. The first night we had sex came out of the blue. Sitting in the front seat of her car in a park, we talked and kissed, hugged and talked, kissed and groped. Finally, Rose sat forward and flipped on a light. Then she said, "I can’t take it anymore," and reached underneath her shirt, unfastened her bra. She moved around awkwardly until she was able to remove her bra from under the shirt. She leaned over me, brushed her breasts against my knee and placed the bra in her glove compartment. "There," she said, sittin back triumphantly, smiling over at me. The masochist in me decided to play it cool, to continue talking as if nothing had happened. The effect on her was palpable: her breathing grew coarse, and when I glanced quickly over at her, I saw that her nipples had grown impossibly hard. I made no move to touch her. Sweet, quiet torture. Delicious beyond compromise. Fifteen minutes passed. Rose became deliriously uncomfortable, moving around in her seat beside me, leaning forward on occasion to give me a better look of her breasts in the crass light of the car. The circumstance was clearly driving her crazy. I loved every minute of it. Finally, it was too much for her to take. In one swift, self-conscious movement, Rose lifted her shirt over her head and dropped in the seat beside us. When I pretended not to notice, she said in a gruff, expectant voice, "Are you going to suck my nipples, or what?" Enough was enough. I complied. Her nipples were thick and long, hard as pebbles, and when I bit them, she let out quiet noises, like birds in the trees, tossing her head back. Her breasts were beautiful, heavy, large. I spent the next fifteen minutes loving nothing else in the universe but them. And if she would not have told me later, I would have assumed she came while I nipped and sucked her breasts. She writhed. That night she asked me to finger her to orgasm. I did. She was wonderfully tight, though not tremendously wet. Her climax was quiet but forceful. She laughed at the tale end of it, and I knew that I had pleased her well. It was the beginning of a relationship that would blossom wildly soon thereafter. El Fin -- +--------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `------------+ | story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us | story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us | | Archive site +--------------------+------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | \ .../assm/faq.html> /