Message-ID: <14599eli$9808201804@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: gandersonac@my-dejanews.com Subject: Surprise (f mast voy) Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: X-Original-Message-ID: <6rhaom$a8n$1@nnrp1.dejanews.com> I usually come home early on Fridays. Who can get anything done with the weekend staring you in the face? Especially when there’s a beautiful young lady waiting for you. She knew my schedule better than I did, and liked to get off early on Fridays too. This, however, was a Tuesday The stereo announced that someone was home. The Tori Amos album announced that it was her. Nothing could have announced the scene on the couch. Her head lay on the back of the couch. Her eyes were closed, her lips parted slightly. One leg was tucked under her; the other sprawled across the couch. The slight flush on her face and the bead of sweat that ran down one breast to disappear into her tank top could be explained by the heat. The pair of shorts and panties around one ankle could not. I was frozen in place as my eyes traveled down her arm to the hand moving slowly in her lap. The tips of two fingers lightly pressed on the folds of skin atop her lips, moving in lazy circles. No great pressure, no great need, just languid satisfaction. The slow stead way she pleased herself, moist fingertips gliding over moist skin, was somehow more erotic than a sweaty unbridled frenzy would have been. I felt like an intruder standing there watching her. I felt like I should leave as quietly as I came in. I felt like I should let her know I was there. Hell, I felt like I should be taking notes. As I stood there in the doorway barely breathing, evil thoughts filled my head. Disrobe as quickly as I could and take her right there on the couch. Crawl silently to her, brush her hand away and finish with my mouth what her fingers had started. . Appealing as they were, none of the visions dancing in my head could compare to the one before me. As if in slow motion, her fingertips left their station over her clit and ran down her lips to slip within. Two fingers disappeared, brining a long slow deep breath that set my hair on end. She drew her now glistening fingers back out, her lips clinging to them as if sorry to see an old friend go. Perhaps they were. Her fingertips returned to the fold above. Was it my imagination, or was their lazy caress a bit more determined? I moved before any conscious decision was made. Quietly, quieter than I’d have thought possible, I approached her. As I drew nearer, details became sharper. The twitch of a muscle in her thigh, a small drop of moisture, the pulse at her neck, her eyes rapid motion behind lids shutting out the world. By the time I reached the arm of the couch, I was sure she could hear my heart pounding barely an inch from her elbow. I could feel her heat, hear her shallow breath above and her moving fingers below. My own breath brought me the smells of clean sweat and desire. Her face, a mask of concentration, made me wish I could paint or sculpt, somehow etch it into my memory forever. Her face, her breasts, her smooth muscled legs, I still couldn’t keep my eyes from the hand bringing her closer and closer to… Her head pressed back into the couch a bit harder. Her back began to arch slightly. Her eyes shut a little tighter. A tension started to fill her. A tension I knew well. Soon. Soon. As I saw the beginnings of her orgasm, I pressed my mouth to hers in a kiss. She froze. Her eyes flew open as shock replaced the determination of a moment before. Neither of us moved a muscle for a heartbeat, then two. Then, all at once, she kissed me back with abandon. Her eyes squeezed shut. I reached an arm across her chest, holding her to me. Her hand returned to its task with the urgency, the frenzy that lacked a moment ago. Three fingers pressed the hood over her clit, up and down, side to side, in tight needful circles. They danced, flew, nearly a blur Her skin burned against me. I felt every twitch. Unwilling to break the kiss, her gasps drew air from my lungs, and I from hers. I could feel it even as it hit her. Every muscle contracted, her back arched, her hips bucked once, her legs and belly shook. A sharp, desperate intake of breath. Her fingers shook… then were still. A few moments passed before either of us could move. I broke the kiss with a brushing caress of my lips against hers. "Hi honey, I’m home." Barely a whisper. Her only reply was a soft sigh as she lay her head on my shoulder. It was the most beautiful sound I’d ever heard. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Again, I'm new at this, so any feedback is welcome. The image is so clear in my head, but did I manage to get that image, and more importantly the erotic energy across? Does my language limit me? Is it too... stuffy? restrained? longwinded? Please send input or suggestions to gandersonac@my-dej -- +----------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `--------------+ | | | | Archive site +----------------------+--------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | ----