pat2@pinet.aip.org (patrick_tibbits) (02/19/91)
It was taking her to "Swan Lake" that did it. Sometime during the ballet, something happened very deep inside Mary Catherine. I didn't know until I was driving her home. I rested a hand on her thigh, a thing she tolerated, sometimes seemed to enjoy, but had never encouraged. Tonight her hand covered mine, and she slid the other over my thigh to pluck at the inseam of my slacks. "That was a neat wizard, wasn't it?" "Your leg is so hard." "Will you stay with me tonight?" "I don't have any birth control." At the drive in window of an all-night drugstore I had forty cents less than the price of a package of condoms. The clerk looked at us, Mary Catherine bent forward, her back bowed, her belly tense, still picking at my pants, and gave us the rubbers. All the way home she kept it up, picking up the inseam, stretching the fabric and letting it snap onto my inner thigh. Sometimes a girl's touch is like an electric shock, sometimes just that sharp spark there in the belly below the navel. Mary Catherine's pluck sent a dull pulse right to my root, saying "Wake up". All the way home, hunched forward in silence, "Wake up. Wake up." She was a slim girl. She didn't exercise, so her thighs were a little loose. I remember her ass hanging out from under her swimsuit the day I met her. A slight girl, and a little flabby. She was shaky getting out of the car. "I'll carry you". Up a flight and over the landing, my arms under her bony shoulder blades and pinched behind her knees, letting her soft ass bump my pelvic bone. She leaned against me at the door and her hand crept down to my slacks again. I sat her on the kitchen counter so her ass spread to stretch her formal dress on the hard formica. She leaned against a cabinet, her hands in the lap of her satin gown, and watched me take off my jacket and shirt. I had been lifting for rugby, and when she saw me her hands made little cupping motions and stirred weakly against the satin. I slipped off my shoes and pants and shorts and my cock stood nearly vertical against my belly. Mary Catherine brought her knees up and rested her shoes on the counter. She reached out for me and put her thin arms around my neck when I stepped up to the counter. I slipped her panty hose, then her panties, under her soft ass, then remembered to unbuckle and remove her shoes. I pressed her knees together and found she was entirely limp. I slid her underthings down her oddly slender, loose thighs and calves then pressed her knees apart and back to her shoulders. Mary Catherine wore her dark red hair long, and I lifted her skirt and saw she was a natural bright redhead, the color contrasting oddly with the pink peeping out from beneath. Her small, very dark brown eyes watched me quietly. She leaned back, just looking and waiting with her arms around my neck while I slipped my arms through the crook of her knee on each side and stepped back and lifted her onto my cock. Months later, I remembered her with molten lead in my belly when I cleaned the car and found the package of rubbers, slipped down into the seat. -- Mail rec.arts.erotica submissions to erotica@telly.on.ca. Most software will automatically mail your postings to that address.