Cometh Hither

I felt alive.

"Having only seen him from through windows, across the street, now having him so close and so naked next to her, she was consumed with the idea of consuming him—"

She stopped.

"Wait, that's just terrible," she said. "Let me try again."

I snapped out of the story.

"She burned with an... insatiable... hunger?" she tried again.

"Christ, it sounds like she wants a hot dog. Fuck what she wants, I want to suck your cock," she said.

And that's exactly what she did. She slid her panties off my erection and tossed them to the floor. Grabbing me again, she looked at me, tongue pressed to the corner of her parted lips. Almost in slow motion, her tongue slowly licked her bottom lip as she descended. As her tongue reached the middle of her lip, it also met the head of my cock. And then I was inside. I felt her tongue probe its way along the curves of the head and I was awash in pleasure. Her lips tightened around me, as did her fingers. She moved slowly, her mouth and hand in wonderful, maddening tandem.

Her mouth, her hand. On me. Consuming me? She thought it sounded like crap, but that's what it felt like. She was utterly consuming me. I wanted nothing but to be consumed. Her hand (the words slick, warm, silky came to mind) squeezed, manipulated me. Her lips. Her eyes. Her fingers around me. Her mouth. Hot, wetness, a hum from her, mmmm, vibrating through my core. Tongue along the underside, finding the head again. Her hair, brushing against my stomach, the sides of my thighs. Electric sensations building on each other, now cresting, teetering like a rollercoaster at the top of its steepest drop...

I brushed her hair back with my fingers. "I'm going to come soon," I panted.

She suddenly took her mouth away from me and in a flash leaned over to the side. She picked the unopened condom off the floor with her free hand, stuck a corner of the wrapper in her teeth and tore it open. Something about that seemed almost feral. Hot. So hot. She let go of my erection which now was so hard it seemed to have a pulsing life of its own. I was afraid it was just going to start spurting on its own and I knew that's not what she wanted. Deftly she slid the new condom on me, giving it a quick little pat with two fingers as if to say "good to go" and pushed me back on the couch. She climbed on top of me, reached between us, and guided me back into her.

"Watching you with my panties really got me hot," she said, as if I needed an explanation.

For the second time in, fuck it, I had no concept of time. We fucked. This time slow but insistent. I watched her body undulate rhythmically. Up, down. In, out. I began moving my hips to match her movements but she pressed me down with a hand as if to say "lie still." I did. She was watching me watch her body with a smile.

"Fingers. Pussy. Now, please," she commanded politely.

I moved by hand down between us, palm down on her abdomen and then downward, tickled by her pubic hair. And then I did as she asked. A whisper.

"Fuck."

She really did like that. Her movements quickened and she began to press harder on me. I could not lie still, I moved my hips in time with her movements and this time she let me. I increased the speed and pressure of my fingers on her. I wasn't going to last much longer.

Shit, I wasn't going to last another second.

I pulled her to me with my free hand.

"I'm coming," I breathed into her ear. "I'm... fucking, fuhh---"

I exploded inside her. My last words hung in the air as formless sounds. Was that coming from me? It didn't matter. Nothing mattered. My body racked with the release. Spasm after spasm, I felt like I couldn't stop coming. When I did stop, the room got quiet except for our breathing which was heavy, ragged. I opened my eyes. She was looking at me with a huge smile on her face.

"Mmm... good?" She turned her head slightly to the side and gave me a coy look. "Looked like it was good." I realized she was still slowly moving on me.

I put my hands on her hips and stopped her. I wasn't entirely confident with the condom in its current state. I had images of a water balloon bursting in super slow motion in my head.

"Oh yes. It was amazing." That was no lie.

She kissed me. "I am so glad." She pulled her face back from mine. "But why are we stopping?"

"Um, the rubber. I think it's, uh, full," I said lamely.

"I see," she said. She thought for a moment. "Maybe it's best..." She moved off me. This time I reached for the tissues and carefully removed the condom. I wadded it up in probably more tissues than it needed and tossed it at the wastebasket, which was thankfully not too far away. Thunk.

"Two points!" Molly exclaimed.

We both laughed like it was the funniest thing we had ever heard. She sighed and let out a deep breath through puckered lips. "Phhhhhhhew." It looked like she was getting up. This time I spoke:

"He was not experienced, but even he knew she not yet satisfied. He reached over and put a hand on her thigh to direct her to remain seated. Using both hands, he pulled her towards him, laying her back on the couch."

The almost imperceptible swish of sweaty skin on leather, a low creak from the couch.

"He felt her legs go slack in his hands and he slowly guided her legs apart."

A soft sigh, leg muscles relaxed in my hands.

"Moving his body backwards down the couch, he let his hands slide slowly down the outside of her legs, then up around her thighs."

A short intake of breath.

His fingers arrived at her pussy—uh, sex, the same time as his mouth—"

"Pussy is fine," she murmured.

Yes, indeed it was. It was exquisite. I wish I had thought to say that at the time.

And then speaking was no longer possible.

Molly bucked up hard to meet my mouth and fingers. I tensed and pushed back against her, just enough to not be pushed backwards.

"Fuck!" she groaned.

I let a finger, two, of one hand slip inside her as the fingers of my other hand found the spot she had directed me to earlier. My tongue joined them. My nose felt like it was in on it too. It was quite a party. I tried to tell a wordless story the best I could with my tongue and lips. She grabbed the back of my head. I took it as a good review.

"FUCK!" she bellowed, in a whisper. I'm not sure that's possible, but that's how I'd describe it. It sounded like, "faaaaaaaAAAHK!" I felt her body shake. Her heels dug into my back. I didn't care. Everything was centered on one thing right now.

I looked up past her belly button, then breasts, seeking her face. I could see her slender throat, muscles tensing. Her head was thrown back. She tilted her head forward. I could already see by her stomach that she was breathing heavily, but now I could see her mouth was closed, she was breathing heavily through her nose alone. She put her free hand over her mouth. Sounds escaped through her fingers. How I wished we were somewhere more private. I wanted to hear her shout out. I wanted to shout. It just--

"So... fucking...," she said through her fingers. "I'm—"

With that her body tensed. I kept going. She shuddered and I could feel the muscles in her legs go taut. Another shudder and her legs relaxed, slowly.

She let the breath out with the word: "Coming..."

I hoped it felt as good as mine. Her leg muscles shook. After a few moments when the aftershocks had seemingly subsided, I slowly came to a stop, expecting things to soon get ticklish. A murmured "mmm" from her. Her hand on my head pulled me gently upward. There wasn't much room on the couch for cuddling, but we tried. It didn't matter that we were jammed into each other. On another day it might feel uncomfortable, but at that moment it simply felt right.

"Right," she said. It could have been a minute, it could have been fifteen. It could be that we dozed off.

"That was... something else," she continued. "How are you?"

"Totally fucking awesome," I said.

"No, I mean... feel, um, weird about... anything? The panties?" she trailed off.

While I wanted to brush it off with a joke, I knew why she was asking. She was legitimately concerned. She cared. That prompted a warm, jittery feeling in my stomach. Watch out buddy, you want to fall in love with teach?

Yeah, well, what's so wrong with that? Well for starters, I didn't even know if she had a boyfriend, a hus--

I realized she was still waiting for an answer. "No, not at all."

She laughed. "Score one for the old psychiatrist's couch! Well, maybe we should clean up, get dressed. And maybe get something to eat? I'm famished."

That sounded terrific to me.

As we were cleaning up and dressing, I noted she was putting on her underwear. After what I had done with them, I figured she'd go without. She noticed me looking at her panties and she let the waistband go, snapping against her abdomen. She waggled her eyebrows lasciviously. Looking like she was going to pledge allegiance to, something, she put her right hand over her breast, nipple poking between her index and middle fingers. She gave the nipple a tweak, then slid her hand down, fingers falling into her cleavage and then along the underside of her breast. My eyes followed those fingers down her stomach, down, down... under the waistband?

Hold the phone.

I watched her fingers through the material, tracing a path ever downward, until she reached that spot I now knew so well. I realized I wasn't breathing. She looked at me through lidded eyes and traced a few small, slow circles around that spot. Then, that devilish smile. She tensed her index and middle finger outward, stretching the material, very much like I had done earlier with a different appendage. With the fingers of her other hand, she lightly traced the outline of the fingers showing through the material, over wet spots we both knew were from me. She closed her eyes, brought her hand out of her panties, put the tips of those fingers to her lips and blew me a kiss. Then her eyes opened wide and she laughed a short, almost surprised, "ha!" She gave me the double guns with a wink.

Pew pew, gotcha cowboy!

This woman. I was speechless. Words had been flying around this room all night and all I could do was sit there slack-jawed.

"Someday maybe you'll write this story." It was half question, half statement. "If you do, promise I get a copy?" She thought a moment. "Change our names, though. Probably for the best. I already catch Schmidt leering, the last thing I need is him finding our dirty stories!"

I nodded. I would surely be committing this story to paper, I doubted anyone else would ever get to read it, but I made a note to change names. Wait, "stories?" Would I have more to write about? I sure hope so.

She stopped midway through putting her bra back on. Stock still, standing there in her panties, the ones that had so recently been wrapped around me. I stared. I started feeling like I'd be ready to go again in no time. That little show with her fingers... I wanted to dive right into that unclasped bra, feel her warm, soft breasts against my--

"It just hit me! Delta of Venus... Sigma Tau Delta? It's a sign!" she said firmly.

Sad trombone, boner averted. Yay, Honor Society pillow talk!

I sighed. "Okay, okay, I'm in."

"Great!" That was that.

While I didn't relish more work... hang on. What the hell was I even complaining about? I didn't even know if this would be more work. I didn't see myself submitting any erotica for review or publication, but surely it wouldn't be the only thing I'm writing over the next few years (even though it was the most fun I'd ever had writing by far). This terrific woman, beaming at me right now, half-dressed, only wanted to help me. And fuck me. Yes, both of those things. What was so bad about either of those? Not a damn thing, pal.

Fuck me, indeed.

As she was finishing up with her bra and dress and I was slowly remembering how socks worked, she asked:

"So, the woman in your story. Cynthia? If that's her real name. Have you even seen her since? Don't make me jealous," she warned with a smile.

"No, not once." I said, noticing my t-shirt was on inside-out.

"Would you feel more comfortable seeing her now?" She added,
"Your shirt is inside-out."

Flipping my shirt around, I realized I didn't need to think about it. "Yeah, it'd be fine. I'm fine. Really."

In a way that I hoped implied I was only jokingly trying to make her jealous, I added, "and hey, her son goes here too, I'm sure there'll be puh-lenty of opportunities."

She didn't laugh this time. Well shit. Here she is being the cool and you have to be an ass.

She narrowed her eyes at me and cocked her head. "So, she might be here sometime?" Molly came over and sat beside me on the couch.

"I think I'd like to meet her," she said. "We certainly have something interesting in common." She smiled and rested her hand on my knee, giving it a playful squeeze.

"I believe she would like your story as much as I do," she said, dark eyes glittering in the muted light of the room.

"Yes," I agreed. "I think she would."