Arriving at home giggling, we went to the kitchen to sit. The roof creaked though and I looked up. She joked that during the snow storm a while ago, she had to shovel the roof with the neighbors shovel since they didn’t pack one. And then she added, if we were to get buried, it would be okay as we would be buried together :-)
She announced she was going to shower and change. I had completely forgotten about her habit of changing twice a day. As she showered, I wrote notes, while charging my piece of shit phone, and looked around the house. I noticed that they had no picture frames, which makes sense, and kept all the old furnishings. I imagined Anja spending a weekend cleaning everything. She never talked about chores.
In the time it took me to go around the house, she finished and called to me. I realized that in the hours we spent already, we were always together, except for now that she was in the shower. I smiled at myself.
Walking naked in front of me, she threw herself onto her bed and laughed as she bounced. I jumped after her. She lay there, facedown, expecting. Starting from her neck, I worked my way down, just as we have done before. Working out a kink in her shoulder, she asked me about plans for after graduation. Strange conversation but I didn’t mind.
I told her what I planned and about the military. We agreed that the military would be the sexiest, and best, thing for us. Together. We teased about her cargo pants and remembered us buying our pairs together. After the back massage (I avoided all her tender spots just to be safe), I lay down next to her and she gave me the sweetest smile and peck on the lips.
Ordering me to take my shirt off, I did so (as well as my stupid glasses). Lying there bare, with clean white sheets between us, we stared at each other. Each lost in our own thoughts. I really wonder what she was thinking. Maybe she was wondering what I was thinking about wondering what she was thinking. Wow, was that even said right?
I couldn’t just hold her. I touched her cheek and stroked her perfect hair. I commented in a whisper how beautifully perfect it was. She returned the gesture gently touching my cheek and tapping at each birthmark on my cheek and neck. My left side. I hate my left side.
Giggling, she told me to flex and squeeze my shoulders. She wanted my ‘boobs’ ha-ha. I did as she asked and she traced my man-boobs. I wondered if I should trace hers. I felt so tempted but I just kissed her. Cuddling, we agreed to sleep for an hour. And we did. Buried in each other’s necks, I was taken to dreamland just from her steady breathing and the way her stomach moved. Her skin was so soft from her shower.
When I awoke, I found my cheek on her chest and couldn’t help but grin. Just remembering brings smiles to me now. Gently, I moved and stared at her. Her small lips perfectly shaped. Her delicate eyes not needing the call of makeup. Her neck perfect length. The curve of her waist and legs. There was lust in my mind of course, but also there was love. A sense of… no, a need to protect and maintain a beautiful gem. I imagined that Anja was something the world never expected, and I, her guardian, fighting together; us against the world, protector her.
She stirred and smiled. Picking up her phone from the floor, she checked the time. We still had plenty.
She told me to get a pair of underwear from across the room. She wanted a specific grey, ‘small one’. She knew exactly what she was doing. I found them, the only grey pair. I giggled at the thought of her letting me in her underwear drawer.
Walking back to her, I stretched the underwear. It was so small I actually stuttered. It was made the same way a young boy’s tighty-whiteys are made. I remember looking at them then to her, and finding her laughing at me. Dying from laughter.
Tossing them at her, I sat at the bottom of the bed to watch. She gave me one of those sexy sly grins and I smiled back. Lifting her legs beautifully, the curve of her hips showing, she slipped on the grey fabric. Lowering her legs, I grabbed them and put them on my lap. Lifting her lower body, she slowly, so slowly it was painful, pulled up the underwear. I must have gaped. I must have done something. It was so hard to look away. Too hard. I was hard. She wasn’t finished. The thing was so tight, so small on her, it hugged her curves as if she was putting on a second skin. She pulled up the back making it ride up her butt cheeks while sacrificing height on the front. It slipped slowly downwards. It was so close. A beautiful triangle was showing, her mound becoming visible, and I was going insane.
She settled back down and outstretched her arms. An invitation. I took it. I couldn’t resist. There was no way. I heard my heart in my ears and was wondering how I was still alive. I couldn’t. Leaning over her, I ran my hands over her sides, hugging her belly as she sucked it in stretching, then ran my fingers down her soft, smooth legs. Her knees locked together, and there was still a beautiful gap. Perfection. It pays to be athletic.
I ran my index finger down the middle of her body. From her throat, between those lovely hills, to her belly button, and then down over the grey material hugging and outlining so tightly. There was less than half an inch from where the fabric started and where I wanted to go. I switched to my thumb and ran it over. A tiny bump. She whimpered a beautiful cry. She put her hands to her head and down her chest but I couldn’t pay attention. I did it again and again, that little bump becoming everything.
She groaned and came alive. My stomach was twisting and turning. I couldn’t keep up. I couldn’t breathe. Even now, I just made like fifty spelling mistakes in that one sentence.
I leaned in and kissed her stomach. She held my head, caressing me. I can still feel her delicate fingers on my head. My thumb was working, warming her. But we were already burning. She screamed little noises no louder than a whisper. I moved down, tracing her pink up and down. I looked. The tightness of her underwear outlined its shape perfectly. A little dot stained the fabric. I ran over the stain pushing gently up and down. Her body moved with my thumb up and down. I wanted so badly to continue, take it off, love her. But I knew I shouldn’t. The word ‘chastity’ floated in my head for a split second.
Her mouth open, she stopped breathing, holding it in. I stopped and rested my fingers on the little bump. The perfect jewel in the world. She screamed quietly, biting her lip. She curled her body flexing every muscle; her shoulders hunched up squeezing together her boobs, her abdominal muscles outlined. Gasping, she grabbed my hand and moved it down over the wet. It was still a small stain, a little bit bigger, but wet. Together we held it firm as she relaxed. Her face was flushed red and I knew mine was so red it didn’t matter. We burned against each other. Facing each other on our sides, she squeezed her thighs together with our hands in between. She was still whimpering with her eyes mostly closed. With my free hand over her head, I caressed her easing her down. Holding her firm breast in my hand, I kissed her cheek and little nose. Her legs squeezed more and then let go in cycles. Her bum curving away from her strong lower back. Her shoulders wide, squeezing her chest against mine. Her hair wrapped around me, a beautiful golden mess. Her gasps in my ear making me want more. I shook. I pushed my whole body against hers.
When she was breathing again, I apologized. Out of breath, she said no, that I should not; that she should apologize. She told me that her mind was okay with stopping, but her body was pissed at her. She wanted more. She used the reference from the Sweet book series; books we read together last summer. She opened her legs and dragged my moist hand up to her chest. There it stayed as we breathed in and out in harmony.
Suddenly, she was on top of me running her hand down my middle as I had done to her. She sat on my stomach and I could feel her wet. I groaned and so did she. I think, I don’t really remember. She leaned in though, curving her body to slowly colliding chests. I traced her body again but weary not to start anything.
I wanted to stay there forever, whispering things in each other’s ear. How much we love each other. Running away like in the stories. Loving and caring. She got up though. It was almost midnight and her father was going to arrive.
She got dressed, leaving the underwear on, still touching herself every now and then. I wanted to always hold her. She put on a sports bra and a simple shirt. Then, to top it all off, she pulled on pajama pants, outlining her curves, teasing me even more. She told me how much she liked me watching her dress. She leaned into me and I held her.
I could feel it. We were both sad that it was over. We went to the kitchen and joked about dancing and foreplay. We agreed that tomorrow we were going to dance.
We pretended to be cleaning when her father came in. He was unlocking and speaking Russian. Later Anja told me that he was asking about the car and why she wasn’t sleeping. When he saw me, he did a double take but then smiled and gave me a manly fatherly hug. I was amused and a little scared considering what I just did to his daughter.
He talked to us for a while, welcoming me, apologizing for the lack or food and whatnot, and then dismissed himself to go to bed. I felt sorry for him. He looked exhausted. I noticed and laughed that he didn’t even care where I slept. Writing this later, I think he has come to accept me fully.
We went back to Anja’s room where we went back into bed and slept. We were exhausted too.
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticstories/comments/8eevp2/m_in_new_york