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Warning: Long Story.

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*This story is slightly long winded, so read as a bedtime story, or hide in folder and pretend to be consulting notes during boring meeting.

*This story is soft-porn, and the author shall not be held responsible for anyone who's errmm.. urges were unable to be fulfilled.

*This story is not all true, but it's not all fantasy either hehehe...

*This story is mainly from a girl's point of view, so I'm not sure it'll satisfy evryone. Definitely titilate a few people though.

*And last of all, never accidentally put a paper plate in a bagel toaster.

Last night I saw him again. But this time, it was more than a fleeting glimpse or brief conversation.

It was the typical high school love story. Boy meets girl. Boy and girl try to kill each other. For three years, we used to fight, call each other names and make fun of each other in front of the other kids.

The third year I tried to kill him by hitting him over the head with a chair. Luckily, I didn’t succeed, but I did end up on my ass in front of the whole class which did make me hate him (more than usual) for a lot longer than I should have.

By the fourth year, as my hormone levels built up to levels never before achieved, I began to notice that he was pretty tall, and that he was kind of filling out in all the necessary places. I also began to notice the way his dark hair was… well very dark, and how deep his honey eyes seemed, especially when we were in the middle of exchanging some sarcastic nastiness, which occasionally bordered on snide flirtatiousness. That was the year he was expelled from school for chucking part of a desk out of the window. Would have gotten away with it, except there was a professor a few feet away from its landing area.

After that, I finished my last year of school and traveled halfway across the world to go to college. A year and a half later, while home for vacation, I spotted him all of a sudden at my friends campus where we had been playing basketball. He saw me at the same time and gave an enthusiastic hello. I was acutely aware that I was sweaty and scruffy, while he, on the other hand looked like something out of a Versaci ad. However I rallied quickly, gathered my wits and said, “bllrg nrrf.” I tried again and this time got as far as “hello.” He asked me if I was studying at that university now, and I again with my quick thinking wit, parried with, “No.” So he said, “umm…ok…goodbye” and that it was nice seeming me again and then left. Later I theorized that it was all the blood that had gone to my face (and other areas that had lain dormant for quite some time), that had left my brain so neglected. But looking back on it somewhat objectively, he seemed somewhat shy and flustered as well.

Yesterday, two years later, I saw him at a club. It was late, and I was winding down from my music high, when I thought I saw a familiar face. I looked again and saw him only a few feet away. I smiled hugely, saw my smile reflected in his mug, and we started walking towards each other, even while my one still functional brain cell told me I was a being so cheesey he could probably smell me. We tried to talk, but the music was too loud and his breath against my ear was making my nipples hard, and a sending a feeling of hot honey to my legs. And I couldn’t tolerate that for too long without any promise of satisfaction. So we settled for dancing.

I couldn’t take my eyes off him. He’d only changed for the better. His hair was shorter but it suited him. I’m not sure how long we danced or who made the first move, but we both stopped dancing, and were closer and closer to each other, until I could see the fine stubble of his beard, and smell him. A mixture of a fresh-smelling cologne, soap, and some kind of musk that only men seem to produce.

Our lips brushed. Our bodies got closer. My breasts (what there is of them) were crushed against him, and I could feel him hard against my stomach. I buried my head in his neck, trying to inhale him, like some sort of drug, but better than any chemical man could possibly buy. He hugged me back, running one hand though my hair, and pulling slightly, while the other caressed the small of my back, under my shirt, and just above my pants. I shuddered, and looked back into his eyes. We both understood that we had to leave.

We were silent on the way back to his hotel, but it was a comfortable silence. We both knew what was going to happen, and that there was no avoiding it. None of the usual thoughts went through my mind. I didn’t worry what he’d think of me tomorrow morning. Or more importantly what I’d think of myself. Because sometimes your brain just can’t win the battle with your body, and even better, sometimes there’s no need to.

His hotel suite was almost at the top of a high-rise, and I could look down at the city lights from the semicircular living room with glass walls. I again marveled at how far away I was from home, but then looked over at him, and finally understood that corny line so many people had fed me. “Home is where the heart is.”

Well at this point I’m not sure how involved my heart was, but it was definitely lust at first sight, and that was something I hadn’t experienced in a while. Usually shy and non-aggressive, I walked straight up to him, told him I’d missed him, then proceeded to kiss him very … very slowly, nibbling his lips, flicking my tongue over them, while trying to press every inch of my body against his. He responded gently and just as teasingly at first, but soon deepened the kiss, crushing me in his arms, while doing indescribable things with his hands that made me shudder a hundred times. I stepped back when I started to feel light-headed and tried to catch my breath. Then I plunged back into the fray, unbuttoning his shirt, and kissing every new inch of dark olive skin I exposed. He quivered violently and sighed deeply, then stopped me when I started to nibble and lick his nipples. He kissed me again, smiled wickedly, picked me up with a flourish and a cheesey smile, and laid me on the ottoman. I peeled off my shirt, and I saw his eyes go molten with desire, as he stared for a couple of seconds as my nipples puckered even more in the slight cold of the air-conditioned suite. Deciding upon the quickest way to warm them up for me, he stroked and gently pinched one with one hand and began to suck on the other. I could feel the slight scratchiness of his beard, and the tickle of the soft hair on his chest, and it almost drove me over the edge. In between sighs and quivers, I urged him to be more aggressive. He switched stations, and began to rub my clitoris with his knee. It was at this point that I realized both our pants were severely impeding our progress. I succeeded in flipping him over, kissed him some more and then tried to fling off all unnecessary articles of clothing (ie: all of them) as quickly as possible, but he stopped me mid-fling and did it himself, kissing me where clothing had previously been. Then kissing me some more… and then it was sort of a pink haze for a while, punctuated with small moans and deep sighs.

Not wanting to be selfish, I stopped him breathlessly and stripped him with agonizing slowness. I ran my hand through soft curls, until I met with a solid obstruction. He wasn’t excessively large, but was doing very well in the circumference department. I closed my hand around him (or tried to), and squeezed gently, feeling the intense heat radiate into my fingers. I then started him off on his journey into insensibility, watching his beautiful eyes glaze over as my mouth closed over him, and my fingertips lightly stroked his tense buttocks, my nails grazing them.

After a while we both stood up and tried to make it to the bed, stumbling and stepping on each other’s toes, because we were trying to kiss in light provided only by the pulsating city outside the windows.

We never made it. He sandwiched me between himself and the wall, and lifted me up slightly (since I was a bit shorter than him, and lowered me with tormenting slowness onto his cock. We both let out enormous sighs simultaneously, as his hands cupped my buttocks and I wrapped my legs around him. I felt myself tighten around him as I tried to make him part of me. The heat coming off of him. The curls tickling me deliciously. Then I was about to make a wise-ass remark about him having to be pretty strong to be able to lift me, when he started to move. Everything was a blur after that, involving lots of wetness, friction, and a look in his eyes that turns me on just by thinking about it.

After that I lost consciousness. Kidding. But it really is pointless to try and put something as enormous and earth-shattering as that experience was in words. So I’ll leave it to the imagination. We fell asleep in each other’s arms and even though my arm was like limp spaghetti in the morning from him laying on it all night, it was worth it. I woke up thinking, “He’s so pretty.” Soon after that I ceased to think again…


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