<<<<<Orphan Annie's 5th Adventure>>>>>
Even though we'd stopped going out a year ago, I was still
curious about Norman. He'd always been intriguing, he'd always
made me laugh and smile, and I remember his being dynamite in
bed. But he'd gotten serious about another girl (god, don't you
hate to compete with 18-year olds? and I'm not sure she was even
18) and without much ado I'd just made myself scarce. No big
scene a year ago, but I wasn't going to be merely an irregular
Thursday-night diversion for him!
But then just last week someone had mentioned him in
passing, in the single mode. It wasn't "Norman and Chris," but
merely "Norman." So I called, and knew as soon as he answered
I'd got myself wrapped up again. I loved just hearing his voice.
He was delighted, even over the phone he made me smile, and we
eagerly set a date for a movie Friday evening. I would come over
to his place, and I knew there was already a good chance I
wouldn't leave until Saturday or even Sunday.
When I arrived I presented him with a bottle of wine and a
very sensual kiss. I'd dressed in tight jeans and a thin crepe
blouse, and I could feel his hands warmly embrace me right
through the fabric. We decided to start the wine--so it could
breathe for later, of course--before leaving for the theater. I
stood right next to him as he maneuvered the cork out, so he'd
catch the perfume I'd worn for him; I know I was close enough to
feel the warmth of his body without even touching him. We
toasted our good fortune and then left hand-in-hand; during the
drive over I kept my hand on his leg and he was most terribly
distracted. You give men just the hint of sex and they go to
pieces on you!
In the theater I pulled his hand over to my leg as soon as
the lights dimmed. I held it down firmly as he massaged my thigh
and then slid up to cup my mound. He gently rubbed me so that I
could tell he hadn't forgotten a thing. My legs were spread wide
apart and I held his wrist in close to me. Pretty soon my breath
was getting shorter and shorter and I had to make him stop. My
sigh of relief was almost audible, for I was about to come right
there!
Then it was my turn. I reached down between his legs and
grabbed his balls. I could slide my hand up his shaft and back
down again, and even through the heavy fabric of his jeans could
feel him thick and throbbing. I kept that up for a half hour or
so, and had to quit when my arm was so tired from the contorted
position that my only other choice would have been to drop down
on my knees between his legs; it was a hard (!) choice, but the
theater was too crowded to do something obvious like that.
So I squeezed his thigh, let go, and sat back in the chair,
resting while trying to catch up on the plot I'd been ignoring.
He put his arm around my shoulder just as the movie began to
shift to the romantic part of the adventure. Inspiration to
Norman! He let his hand drop down my front and squeezed my
breast. I had only a slender, thin bra on beneath the crepe so
that I could feel every one of his fingers caress me, and in a
very few moments my nipples were quite erect. He reached over
and undid a button on my blouse and slipped his hand inside. I
was so hot I was surprised there wasn't steam coming out, and the
warmth of his hand just reflected right back onto my chest.
Audacious as ever, Norman then proceeded not merely to cup my
breast, but there in the theater to slide his hand beneath the
bra cup and directly stimulate my nipple. I was about to come
right there, once again! The sexual tension was so high I had to
grab the armrests to keep from jumping him there in the seat!
Thankfully, the movie soon ended and we emerged into some
surprisingly cold night air. Well, the whole world was cold
compared to us! We went to get a bite to eat, where he and I
played a marvelous game of footsie. The wine didn't at all
measure up, though, so we rushed home to where we had something
worth our attention(!).
Norman lit a fire while I freshened up (and put in a
diaphragm!). When I returned to the living room he had two
glasses, the wine and some pillows all arranged in front of the
fireplace. I bent over and kissed him as he handed me a glass,
and rubbed his chest. He grabbed my calf in reply while I sipped
the wine. What a smooth, sensual bouquet! A good beginning to
this part of the evening, for sure!
Then we stretched out before the fire and kissed. Gently at
first, our lips just sort of nibbling on each other. Then we
drew each other closer and really explored mouths. He put his
glass down and began again on my blouse's buttons, and I likewise
started in on his shirt. I soon was rubbing my hands all over
his hairy chest, kissing his neck and tongueing his ears, and he
was fumbling with the front closure of my bra. Once he had it
open I rolled him onto his back, pushed his hands away from my
tits and rubbed my chest directly over his. I was so horny now!
With his arms pinned to the floor I wrapped my legs around his
waist and squeezed there, then ground my pelvis against his. He
closed his eyes and just took it like a man!
When I let his hands go they went for my butt and began to
massage it firmly, exploring all of it from my waist to the tops
of my thighs, and as he held me down I could feel him growing and
throbbing beneath his zipper. I lifted up and began to pull his
zipper down, soon exposing his shorts and then opening his pants
all the way so I could reach inside. What a find!
He was moist, and warm, and full of fun there! I soon moved
my mouth's attentions there and took him fully between my lips.
He was tasty, too. I started sucking, kissing, and squeezing
him, all the while my hand cupping and massaging his balls. In a
very short while his hips were moving up and down in rhythm with
my mouth and I knew he wouldn't be long in coming. When the
spurts came I was swallowing it all and kept sucking even after
he had collapsed.
After a brief recovery, he pulled me up to face him. I
first maneuvered his pants the rest of the way off, and then he
began to work on my belt. He had this great smile on his face
that made me let him do to me whatever he wanted! Soon, my jeans
joined his in a pile and his face was down between my legs, his
hands on my breasts. His tongue explored all the crevices and
folds of my labia and soon I was rubbing my mound up and down his
face, getting him thoroughly wet. In a last spasm I collapsed in
a series of yells and was twitching on the floor, like an
epileptic, until I just fell asleep.
I think he did too, because the next thing I remember is his
gently shaking me, murmuring with half-closed eyes. Whatever he
said, it had something to do with going to bed and I was all too
ready. Somehow, with unsteady legs, I managed to stand up and we
both sort of wobbled down the hallway, leaning on each other. We
didn't get out of bed for thirty-six hours, though we must have
slept no more than five. For that night and the next full day
the only sunlight we saw was what came in through the curtains
blowing at the open windows. Well, Norman did get up to get the
champagne and bagels we had for breakfast, and I did have to pay
attention to the contraceptive supply. We would doze and awake
only to make love. Then we'd decide we were too musky (an
oxymoron?) and go take a shower, where I'd climb up on him in the
hot stream and we'd screw away, my legs around his waist and my
arms around his neck as as I pumped away and he swayed in the hot
water. Then we'd towel each other off and climb back into bed
where he'd eat me again. I wholly lost track of how many times I
came, well over a hundred. I was at once exhausted and
exhilerated. After I went home, Sunday was shot, of course, but
I was exhausted for good causes: I think I'm now bowlegged for
life, and I think Norman has sworn off inexperienced girls!