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Two days after he had departed from Vic and Kristen, Jim was awakening beside Vic’s daughter Jane. He had almost immediately strayed from the path he hoped to follow. But Jane’s first words after stretching and smiling up at his tall body standing over her bed were, “So tell me about Harry.” He couldn’t have been happier.
He called Harry, told him they were going on a date with the lovely Jane. Harry paused, Jim hoping he wasn’t falling into an apoplectic fit. When Harry hummed and stuttered, Jim was getting a more worried. Harry breathed deeply. “Sure,” he said.
“Great,” said Jim, in the truest sense of the word.
Jim and Jane showered separately. Jim put on his clothes from the day before, and Jane put on a summer dress. Before they stepped out of her apartment, Jane wrote a message for her roommate Connie to meet them at the boat rental in Central Park from 5 o’clock until seven if she could.
Jim and Jane decided to stay together for the entire day until five o’clock came around and they would meet Harry. Jane was excited to show her city to Jim and wanted to hop in a cab as soon as they walked out her apartment building.
“Let’s walk,” said Jim. He didn’t care about seeing the sites. He wanted to be with her.
“It’s like thirty blocks to Central Park,” said Jane.
“We got all day,” he said as he began walking south.
“Okay,” she said as she joined him.
They talked and laughed and enjoyed themselves immensely. He even got to see the Guggenheim Museum which he thought was really cool and kind of fucked up for a museum. They stopped at a deli that sold Yankee caps, bought a couple of them to protect their faces from the hot sun and a couple sandwiches and sodas.
By the time five o’clock rolled around they were at the boat rental place in Central Park looking for Harry. The time came none too soon. They were on the edge of having maybe a little too much of being around each other. Waving a ticket in his hand, Harry appeared a couple minutes late.
“Got the canoe,” said Harry excitedly, like a little boy. Jane found him silly yet endearing, both in action and in dress. The guy wasn’t the model type. Tall and skinny with a high narrow face buried under even nerdier glasses than Jim sported. And he was either intense or he was retreating. Jane especially liked his intensity. She wanted to encourage it. But first they needed to put the canoe in the water.
Jim held the canoe so Harry could take the stern and Jane could sit in the middle. However, once Jane was in the boat, Jim sent them off. Jane nearly toppled out, but managed to have her lovely high seat meet the seat in the bow. “You fucker,” she said to the retreating Jim. She didn’t mean to be harsh. She was really just kidding. Harry caught a glimpse of her white panties as her dress fluttered up, and they looked marvelous stretched across her lovely tusch. Harry grabbed a paddle, turning the boat away from the dock and away from Jim. Jane scowled at Jim as they turned. She twisted around in the boat to keep the scowl on longer. She forgot about it when she saw Harry smiling at her. She smiled back. When she grabbed a paddle, Harry held it and placed it back at the bottom of the canoe. His paddle was all that gave the boat any speed and direction.
“Hey you’re good at this,” she said. She sat facing him, watching his lean torso twist as his lean strong shoulder muscles tightened with each stroke.
“My family would go canoeing a lot when I was a kid. We had our own. It was just the three of us which worked good. We’d go camping, do the whole portaging thing.”
“Sounds fun,” she said. She couldn’t believe how easy it was with this guy. At the start she thought it would be uncomfortable.
“Sometimes. Most of the time I guess. Sometimes, you know with camping things can get really unpleasant. The weather is bad or you just get in a funk that pisses off the two in close proximity for a long period of time.”
“Not going to happen,” she smiled. “Too nice a day.”
“Wonderful day,” he said, meaning her.
As they paddled around the winding channels of the lake they talked. Mostly Jane talked. It wasn’t shyness that kept him from speaking. He wanted to hear what she had to say. When he talked, he talked about music. He talked about the quiet splash of the paddle, the people’s passing conversations, the birds, the squirrels chattering as random musical events, the silences between notes. He talked about John Cage and chance composition. Then he talked about how he liked to compose. Not chance but sometimes sounding like it. But with melody. A melody he concocted using the mathematical relationships found in engineering. Maybe her poetry…maybe he could use her poetry…maybe to make a song…
“I’d love to hear your music,” said Jane.
“You want to come over?”
“I’d love to come over.”
“You would?” Harry said. When he swallowed it was as if all tension of wanting but not knowing if she wanted, of finding but not knowing if she wanted to be found was like a giant rock finally dislodged and disappearing down his throat. “I haven’t played any for Jim yet.”
“Fuck Jim,” she said with a laugh.
“But I thought…”
“Just you and me tonight. We’ll swing by my place, drop him off, pick up some poems and head kozyatağı escort down to your place.”
“Sounds…great!” he said. “But I thought…”
“I’ll admit it. I love the guy. I still love the guy. But he’s my past. You my friend are my future.”
He felt another lump of tension, this time much lower in his body, manifested by his hardening spear. It uncurled and inflated like a crumpled balloon at last making a comeback. She was a golden creature sitting before him in the sun.
She too was excited by the view. When she adjusted herself on the seat, she felt a cool wet breeze play over the dampness of her panties where they covered her juicy cunny.
They had circled the lake and were heading back to the dock, spotting and waving at Jim and Connie, Jane’s roommate waving to them from in front of the boat rental place. Jim and Connie, standing a distance away from each other came together when they approached the docking canoe.
Seeing the large brown paper bag Jim was holding made Jane aware how hungry she was. She and Harry dampened their shoes as they struggled out of the canoe and on to shore.
“Hi,” said Jane to her two friends, and they nodded to her. Jim had rarely seen her so happy. “Hurry up. I spotted the perfect spot,” Jane said and ran off. She slowed when she got too far away, glad to see Harry the first to catch up despite holding the blanket freshly purchased for the occasion. Once Jim and Connie were a few feet behind them, Jane continued a brisk walk towards her destination, Harry beside her.
On the edge of one of the lake’s channels, Jane stopped. “Down here,” she said, and Harry draped the blanket over the earth near the base of an old oak tree and a yard and a half from the quiet ripples of the lake against its edges. There they partook of the fried chicken and potato salad while continuing their conversation.
“I’m heading over to Harry’s to listen to his music after the picnic. Why don’t you spend some time with Connie?” said Jane to Jim, and to Connie, “if that’s okay?” That was it for being with anyone but Harry.
She liked Harry. Though not a handsome man he had a good heart and soul which shone through his eyes. She removed his nerdy glasses to see that soul better. Like the creeping speed of the minute hand, she slowly closed in on him. Maybe she was a little cruel, but she loved his reactions to each advance she made. Each advance made him twitch. First contact of knees touching. The first contact of her hand on him, on his thigh. When she took his hand in hers. It took him a few seconds to recover. His head would duck down and away from her. He would shake a little. It was crazy, but it fascinated her. It was amusing. Then he would recover and put on a brave albeit more and more horny face.
They were excited being together. Jane’s hardening nipples could be seen easily through her tank top. His spear was enlarging down his pant leg. They both wanted to act on the potential of what they saw. He wanted to kiss those nipples, suck them into his mouth. He wanted to feel what they felt like. She wanted to free his spear and push it against her pussy and rub it there.
A muscle in her neck tensed up, stopping her progression towards him, but inadvertently increasing it times sixty.
“Let me get that,” he said and stood up to walk behind her. He knelt and began to massage her shoulders. She reached back to touch his knees naked below his bermuda shorts. She encircled his knees with her hands, coaxing him to sit his butt down and slide his legs along her hips and thighs. This proved a difficult position for massage. He looked around for a makeshift pillow and found the bags for their food which he crumpled and stuffed under his ass. He leaned a little forward and continued the massage. After her shoulders and neck, he worked down her arms. When his hands passed over hers, the fingers intertwined and his nose was buried in her neck, smelling her scent, her hair, her skin, the sweet sharp odor of the water, and the sweet intoxicating odor of her excitement. She turned her head, leaned back, and they kissed.
Harry always imagined his first romantic kiss would be a simple moment. He would bend down standing to meet the girl’s lips. This was an altogether more complicated angle. He loved it. He loved that his lips moved from the side of her mouth, capturing her lower lip from its thin beginning to the plump, voluptuous middle. He loved the way she did the same to his upper lip. The kiss was soft at first, a light touching, then a gentle nibbling. Suddenly it was full on. Lips pressing hard to the teeth. Mouth opening just enough to let Jane’s tongue sweep around inside and lead his tongue inside her mouth. She brought his hands to her naked midriff, where he continued the massage. She left him there to do as he liked. His hands circled her tummy, moving her softness, applying gentle pressure to the firm muscles beneath. The circle widened, touching the lowest point of roundness of her soft breasts and the highest point of her pubic hair. The kiss continued, the tongues darting and playing, Jane’s mouth capturing and sucking on Harry’s tongue.
Realizing how public they were, she knew they couldn’t get away with taking this further. küçükyalı escort At least not in the position they were in. She ended the kiss and turned around on her butt. She wrapped her arms and legs around him and hugged. Her pubic bone pushed against his stomach. She lessened the pressure of the hug and began a new kiss. Her pussy began a slow slide down the front of his shorts, following his spear, engulfing it subtly in the valley between the nether lips. The lips on her face sucked his tongue in and out. Her brazen seduction was working wonders on his timidity, but he still was slow to grasp her ass cheeks. The slowness was turning her on. It was like his every reaction imitated a tantalizingly slow rising cock. Once he held those cheeks hard, he was guiding her cunny on his spear, a clothed fucking.
Maybe because they were so public and people could see him holding her, he made the next move. He brought her hands down to where their bodies met so as to have them hidden by the body. His hand slid into the waist of her shorts. She unbuttoned them to allow better access. He didn’t reciprocate. It would have been too much to let loose his spear with people passing by, though if they studied the couple, any passing stranger could probably figure out what he was up to. He slipped his fingers through her tangle of pubic hair until she felt them touch the crown of her cunny. It nearly made her cum, the climax of nearly two hours of mostly mind foreplay. His climax had been building for a lifetime. Her fingers found the head of his spear beneath his shorts and pulled on it. His right hand moved away from touching her cunny, leaving the left hand to feel the slick warm damp inner flesh between her pussy lips. His right hand slid beneath her halter to cup her breast, naked to its touch. She was tugging at his cock. It was all too much for him. She felt the twitching of the spear as he sunk a finger inside her cunny and massaged her tit aggressively with the other hand. She felt the hot sticky cum squirt out the head she had been vigorously rubbing and dampen the dungarees. Once he had let go of the passion of the orgasm, he let go of her and closed up.
“Sorry,” he said pathetically.
“Jesus, Harry, you nearly made me cum,” she said. She kissed his lips, flushed hot from his orgasm, and she could feel the pulse of the orgasm lingering there. She continued after the kiss, “and I liked making you cum.”
“I’m not…I’ve never…” he stammered, ashamed at what he was trying to tell her.
“You’re a virgin!” she exclaimed. “That’s so cool.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t know. Cool? I don’t know.” She kissed him again, and he kissed back fully, lovingly. “This is going to sound really corny, but I’ve been waiting for you.”
“What?” she said.
He gently and lovingly kissed her again. When their lips separated, he looked at her face and into her eyes. “I don’t mean to scare you off.”
“But you never met me before last night.”
“No, but it’s true. I always thought love was about connecting in a really profound way. When we met and we exchanged glances, I felt my heart was going to explode. I thought you could feel the same or something similar. I saw it in your eyes.”
“Yes, well I did get a certain curious tingle. Got it again when we met again.”
“Yes,” he said like he had just won something big, something life altering, or more someone. Someone he had won because she had won him.
“And many times since. It started all up in here,” taking his hand, she showed him, spreading his hand across her face and down, “and then moved here,” across her breasts and tummy, “and here,” and between her warm damp thighs, “and here.” He couldn’t help pressing at the crown of her cunny. “It keeps tingling,” she said and kissed him.
They decided it was time to move on. As they stood, they noticed they had been left by their roommates. Harry also noticed the tell-tale sign of his having cum. She noticed him glancing about and at his pants. She laughed loud and unashamedly at him. She shook the blanket and placed it over his shoulders so as to cover the stain below. She looked into his smiling eyes.
“Come on,” he finally said, taking her hand and leading her through the park and out onto the street and into the subway and out and onto the street and up the stairs and into his apartment. They had never been so quiet around each other. It felt good.
Once inside the apartment, they entered his study, and he put on his music. She sat on the guest bed, Jim’s bed for the summer. “I forgot to get my poems,” she said.
“Later,” Harry said with a big smile. Later was a good word at the beginning of a relationship.
“Later,” she said, returning his smile, agreeing with his unspoken thought.
“Want to dance?” he asked jokingly. The music was mostly silence with chords and single notes occasionally from an organ disrupting it. Not music one would normally find a way to dance to. Jane, a skilled modern dancer/choreographer could. As Harry sat on the edge of his desk, Jane got up. She took his hand and pulled him into her arms. They were slow dancing. Mostly holding each other. Barely moving. Her eyes were closed, not so much to feel their intimate contact, but to listen mutlu kent escort to the music. It was really good. She noticed the melody. She had to listen closely, but she noticed it. Simple while using the full spectrum of a chord, sort of like an Eno melody. It was lovely.
His eyes were open. They wanted to receive every nuance of her reaction to him and his music. She suddenly broke away from him and opened her eyes. She began to move and pulse and breathe to the music. She was dancing. A solo. He sat and watched. It was a long piece, over twenty minutes. She worked the music, and it worked her until the end.
“You’re really good,” he said, not so much surprised as glad she was so talented, gifted. Poetry and dance. The girl was remarkable.
“Oh god Harry, you too. Beautiful. Are they all so beautiful? Let me hear another one.” He played her another, shorter piece. She closed her eyes and listened. It was far denser, silences noticeable by their near absence, but again there was the subtle lovely melody. And the rhythm. Weird, intricate, complicated. What had the rhythm been about in the first piece?
“Play the first one again,” she said once the second had ended. She got the rhythm halfway through, got up and moved out of the room, dancing. She moved a table and chair to the side of his living room for more space, and danced, thought and danced throughout the still small space of his living room. He watched, entranced.
“Can I take a shower,” she said at the moment the piece ended. He pointed to the bathroom. She dashed inside. After peeing she got into the shower and washed herself carefully, spending the most time on her cunny and asshole. She wanted them clean for his piercing. She noticed how clean the room was. In fact the apartment was immaculate. What a thorough, meticulous gentleman. A clean towel was waiting for her when she exited the shower.
Once dried she wrapped it around her warm damp long voluptuous body and entered the living room. He wasn’t there. She peeped into his bedroom, in which the bed was crisply made and was glad he wasn’t waiting for her in bed. She liked seducing him too much for him to pass steps. She found him in the kitchen pouring red wine from a jug. Some cheap wine. She tasted it.
“This is delicious,” she said.
“Isn’t it? Best wine for under ten dollars.”
“As good as I have had,” she said. She looked him over as she gulped down the full glass. “Drink up. No etiquette needed. And you’re still in your wet sticky shorts.” She looked over the empty counter, everything put away. She then went through the cabinets.
“Can I help you…” he said, amused.
“Here we go.” she said, interrupting. She held a plastic bottle of Wesson oil discretely enough for him to not be quite sure what she had. She tugged on his arm then took his hand. “Come on, let’s get those sticky things off.
“Lie down,” she said, pushing him onto his back on his bed. She was glad to see it was queen size. He probably needed extra room for his height, certainly not for company, Not until she arrived. At his feet she tugged off his athletic shoes, then his damp and smelly socks. Even concentrated, she liked his smell. She even took his right foot in hand and licked the bottom, mostly at the ball. She couldn’t remain for long or he’d have kicked her by accident. As gently as possible, resisting the desire to jump him and fuck him right off, she lay the foot down and rubbed her hands along his inner leg, inner thigh, across the drying semen there, and to the zipper on his shorts. She unsnapped and unzipped and vigorously pulled them off his legs. It was a throbbing tent pole that tented the elastic of his briefs. Being far too brief for his spear, they were well pulled. She wrapped her hand around his cock through the cotton briefs, one step closer to flesh on flesh contact. A lot of friction was created, but he wanted freedom for his spear, her naked hands wrapped around it. It sprung out once Jane had pulled the briefs off completely, and thus he got his wish. And more. Much more.
She took the spear in hand and rubbed all the way up, rubbing along the tip and the ridges of the head, then down to the base, touching his balls, inserting her finger up his asshole. She laughed when he jumped. He soon calmed, or rather became distracted, when her lips kissed the tip and her tongue tasted the tiny mouth of his cock, while one hand vigorously rubbed the shaft. Her one hand occupied with his bung hole, she loved rubbing her other hand up and down his long lean spear, feeling its hardness, pulling on the flexible skin covering the stiffness. The helmet felt good in her mouth, too. She sent it deep inside, letting it slide down her throat. It was a long way down for the length of his spear, but was narrow enough not to expand her throat a lot. She brought it back out, saturated with spit. She sucked and licked the big purple helmet, a beautiful crown to his magnificent length, rubbing her hand continuously from the base of his cock up to where her lips played. Then she sent it deep inside again, the helmet squeezing along the walls of her throat. Revealing her sword swallowing skills, learned from the club swallowing she had performed on Jim, she had Harry all the way inside her throat, her lips making contact with his pubic hair. Pumping his spear in and out for four strokes, she pulled him out again to avoid choking on his rigid flesh, returning to the rubbing, the kissing and the licking. The pleasure kept building as his balls expanded. He was shivering with excitement. She felt the trembling of his balls when she deep throated his spear a third time, and knew she had to ease off.
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