Sex and the Summer Job Ch. 02

I lifted my head, trailing a strand of sweet pink saliva between my lip and her nipple. I swiped my tongue over my lip, broke the strand, and slurped it in like an overcooked length of spaghetti. I could tell that much of her sexual energy was channeling now from the periphery of her body to her pelvis.

Her breathing sharpened and she kept her hips in motion while she stroked herself and looked at me with smiling eyes. I nudged her hand away with mine and began to caress the smooth skin of her mound. She tensed and drew in a shaky breath. Her reaction reminded me that there was nothing casual or routine about this for her. It flashed through my head how spoiled I'd been, how sex had become, more often than not, little more than glorified masturbation.

I stroked my middle finger up and down the edge of her slit, hardly touching her at first. She sighed and spread her legs wider, opening her cunt for me. I leaned over to kiss her while I gently worked her with my finger.

She gasped when I hooked two fingers into her cunt. I rocked back and forth, then pulled out and smeared her viscous nectar over her mound while I kissed her once more. At last, I straightened up, still slowly fucking her with my fingers. I reached over with my other hand for a fresh dollop of jam. She let out a delighted moan. "Ooohhh, you naughty, naughty girl."

"You think this is naughty, you wait and you'll see just how good and naughty I can be. I'm such a bad girl." I plopped the glob of jam on her clit and rubbed it in, and she cried out at the thrill. I lowered myself, coming at her from above, with one arm hooked around her thigh so I could finger her cunt and open her when I wanted. I slathered jam all over her mound, and I began to lick it up just as I'd licked it from her breasts. By the time I reached her slit, she was a sticky, juicy mess.

I moved my head aside to get a good look at her cunt, and it was even more beautiful in the light of day. Her labia were puffy and engorged, her slit an intricate scroll of creases and bumps sparkling with wetness. Her fragrance was much stronger than last night, a complex mixture of smells that blended into a rich, musky aroma more pleasing than the fragrance of a wild rose.

Karen was in continuous motion, moaning and sighing softly with each breath. I tapped her clit with my free hand, and there was just enough jam residue on my finger to make it tacky, and that little bit of extra texture heightened her pleasure ten fold. I lowered to take her in my mouth, wishing I could see her face as I did.

If her smell was rich, her taste was even more so. I swirled my tongue around her clit, then flicked at it before sucking her into my mouth. The strong sweetness of the jam mixed with the vague saltiness of sweat, the tangy layer of her own nectar, and other indefinable tastes blended into a flavor as complex and pleasing as a good wine. I sucked her, lapped my tongue over her, pushed and probed it into the convoluted folds around her pearlescent clit, groaning happily as I did.

I slid my fingers out of her, dragging fresh cunt honey along as I rode my finger up and down her slit. I wasn't in the most comfortable position, but I could handle it. I sucked and slurped happily, roaming my tongue all over Karen's luscious cunt while my fingers pushed and stroked her.

Her moans and soft cries were growing more emphatic by the minute, and she twisted and rolled her hips faster. I could feel her muscles tensing up, almost quivering.

Her pelvis was rippling under me as she arched her back and held her breath, and when she exhaled, it came out as a tremulous moan. I held her labia open with both hands and lapped up and down, flicking and stroking my tongue over her clit and drinking in her honey.

She was squirming on the bed in total bliss. I kept at her as long as I could feel and hear that she was cumming.

I eased off by slow degrees, tapering down to wet kisses planted on her soaking wet, tender mound. I finally straightened up and climbed astraddle her. I smiled down at her, content for the moment to savor her euphoria. My pelvis thrummed with deep arousal, but it was a feeling I found very satisfying on its own. It was a feeling I wanted to savor, not rush.

"That was incredible," she said with a touch of amazement. "You're incredible."

"And you're beautiful," I said, looking into her bright, lovely eyes. "Especially when you cum."

She wrapped her legs around my hips in a strong embrace and pulled me down to her, our mouths meeting in a wet, probing kiss. She rolled me onto my back and knelt close over me, her smile bright and playful. "Now it's my turn to see how beautiful you are when you cum," she said, reaching between us to slide her hand up and down my wet, tender cunt.

Her touch was firm, and it sent a sharp pang through me, making me gasp and stiffen. She watched me closely to see how I reacted. "Right there," I sighed. "Right on my clit, nice and firm."

She drummed her fingertips over my swollen clit, then tapped on me before rubbing me side to side with her middle finger. She massaged me firmly until I was quivering. "Like that?" she teased with a smile.

"Mmmm, yeah, exactly like that. Don't be too gentle, don't be afraid, I like having my clit fucked hard."

She slid her fingers down my sleeve and coated them with honey from the well of my cunt before coming back to massage my throbbing jewel again. I groaned and rocked my hips as Karen dipped her head to my breasts. She nipped at my firm nipple, flicked her tongue over and around it while she worked my clit with her fingers.

My pelvis swelled with a bubble of hot lava while delightful thrills of pleasure rippled over me. She stretched my nipple out and let it snap back, then she snaked her tongue around my other nipple, nudging at the ring. I was squirming and panting, urging her on, my hands buried in her hair as she brought me higher and higher.

She held my nipple ring in her teeth and tugged and pulled on it. Just as I reached the apex of my passion, holding my breath, my toes curled in anticipation, she squeezed my clit and rolled me between her fingers, pushing me over the edge. I came like a pot boiling over, the pulsing heat of my orgasm washing all over me.

I let out a cry of exhilaration, and squirmed and bucked and bounced my heels on the bed. Karen kept devouring my tit and rolling and squeezing my clit, drawing hot surges and passionate cries of "Yeah, yeah, yeahhhhh, ooohhhh," from me. I finally stiffened then flopped back, and we collapsed in an embrace, laughing and panting.

Karen pulled me tight against her while I caught my breath. My whole body tingled, especially my wet, swollen cunt. "That was fantastic!" I gasped without a hint of exaggeration.

"I love making you feel like that. If you only knew how amazing and wonderful it is for me when I can do that for you."

I pushed her hair back from her face and looked into her eyes, and I thought I knew there was a reason she got me so hot and bothered right from the first. "I'm thanking my lucky stars that I got you before anyone else did. I'm not going to let you go, either. I might share you, but that's it."

Karen blushed, but she didn't look away. "I'd go anywhere with you."

We came together and shared long, slow kisses. I tried not to think of anything except the warm contentment I felt at that moment. After a time, Karen rolled on to her back and I laid my head on her breasts and looked up at her. "You know," she said, "we never did eat breakfast."

I laughed and said, "No, we didn't, did we? I guess we got side tracked. Maybe we ought to take that downstairs before we knock it over," I said, motioning to the TV tray.

"I suppose so," Karen sighed, sitting up.

"Have you got something I can wear? I'm getting cold."

"I can find you something," she said, and she got up and went to a dresser across the room. "How about a fleece robe?"

"Perfect."

She brought the robe over and held it open for me. I slid it on, and she sat me back on the bed. "Here," she said, holding up a pair of slipper socks. "Let me put these on you."

The idea of someone dressing me made me giggle, but I thought 'That's what lover's do'. She straightened and I pulled her down to kiss her, obviously delighting her. When I let her go, she slipped on her own robe and slippers. "I'm not used to lazing around the house in my robe," she said. "It's nice."

Karen took the tray, and I grabbed the coffee cups and followed her downstairs and into the kitchen. "The coffee in the carafe is still good," she said, taking the cups from me and emptying them in the sink. "Would you like a fresh cup?"

"Yes, I would," I said. My purse was on the table next to hers, and I fished out my cigarettes. "You want one?" I said.

"Sure," she said, as she poured fresh, steaming coffee into the cups. I lit a cigarette and gave it to her, then lit one for myself. "Do you want me to try making us something to eat again?" she said with a coquettish smile.

I looked at the clock, surprised to see it was after three. No wonder I was so hungry. "No, don't bother, no work allowed today. Maybe we can order pizza instead."

"OK, that sounds good. Want to watch a movie?"

"Yeah, that sounds like a good idea. It's a cuddle-up-on-the-sofa kind of day," I said. I came up behind her and slipped my arms around her waist. "What movie did you have in mind?"

"I like old movies, especially musicals. I don't have many newer ones."

"That's OK. I don't do movies very often any way. Old movies are fine." I nuzzled my lips against the nape of her neck and swirled my tongue over her silky skin. She shivered and giggled. "You're bad," she said, leaning her head back and turning to look at me. Her eyes danced and sparkled with delight.

"Hmmmm, I heard a rumor that you like bad girls."

"I guess I do, especially when they're beautiful and named Amy."

"Well imagine that." We kissed, and I thought about doing her then and there. It wouldn't take much to get her off, but what was the rush? We had the rest of the day ahead of us, and we weren't playing a game of How Many Times Can You Cum. I wanted to savor a long, slow afternoon of cuddling and loving with her.

I couldn't remember the last time I'd been with a lover and it wasn't all about getting each other off as much as possible. I pulled her tighter against me so her firm butt pressed against my mound. "Where do you want to order from? Not Domino's, please. Abbie won't eat pizza from anywhere else, so that's all we ever get, and it's like greasy cardboard."

"Lucky for you, I hate chain food in any form. If it was up to me, every damned MacDonald's and KFC and all their little clone cousins would be burned to the ground. Sorry, but that's the restaurant owner in me. How about Tiffy's? Have you ever had anything from there?"

"Nope. I've heard of it, but I've never been there."

"It looks like a real dive from the outside, kinda old and seedy, but it's been around forever, and the take-out is fantastic. I know the owner. He sends people to us at Periwinkles, and I send people to him. Works great. What kind do you want?"

"It doesn't much matter. Something simple, but no anchovies please."

"Pizza Margarita?"

"Yeah, that's perfect."

Karen reluctantly stepped out of my embrace. She got the number for Tiffy's from a refrigerator magnet and ordered our pizza and a bottle of Diet Pepsi. She took me by the hand when she hung up, and lead me into the living room. Her large HD TV sat in an oak entertainment center, and she opened a drawer filled with DVDs. "I won't bore you with a musical," she said. "Yet. How about 'Auntie Mame'. That's a good older movie, it's funny."

"Sure, that sounds good. I've heard of it."

She put the disc in the DVD player and said, "Let's wait till the pizza gets here to start it."

I looked around the downstairs part of the house, really seeing it for the first time, and everything about it was as casually haphazard as the upstairs. It was obvious that Karen had no use for pretensions.

I'd lived most of my life a house that was always consciously themed with deliberate precision. "I love your house," I said. "It's so comfortable and lived in. My mother is a decorating freak. I grew up in a house that was like a museum display. It was like my mother expected Martha Stewart to knock on our front door at any minute. I'm about one step above being a slob, and my mother had fits about my room."

"I'm not much at decorating, as you can see. I don't have the patience or the time to worry about how the house looks. When I have company, I assume they're here to visit me, not the house."

I smiled when Karen lit a cigarette and came over to be with me as I looked around. "And smoking," I said. "My Mom and Dad both loathe smokers. If you only knew the fits they had when I started smoking."

"Why on earth did you start? I wish I could quit."

I shrugged. "It's what a lot of the crowd I hung out with did. Besides," I said, giving her a devilish smile, "I knew it would rattle my parents' cage. It was a way of rebelling." We were in front of the huge fieldstone fireplace dominating that end of the living room. "Is this a real fireplace? Do you ever use it?"

"Sure, sometimes in the winter. I really like it. It was the thing that finally sold me on this place. I'd always wanted a house with a real working fireplace. Today would be a good day to get it going, but I don't have any fire wood."

"I could see us going at it in front of a blazing fire."

Karen laughed and said, "Well, with any luck you'll still be around when it's fireplace weather every day."

I almost blurted out, "Of course I'll still be around," but I bit my tongue. I had no business even thinking that far ahead and it surprised me that the words were right there, so close to the surface that I almost said them without thinking. Instead, I pointed at an old upright piano in the corner and said, "Do you play the piano?"

"A little bit," she said, finishing the cigarette and stubbing it out in the ashtray she carried. "Though I'd hardly call what I do 'playing the piano'. I took lessons through high school, but that's it. In some of my more delusional fantasies, I used to dream about becoming a famous jazz pianist."

"You put yourself down too much," I said mildly.

She shrugged. "I'm not much at tooting my own horn, especially when there isn't anything to brag about."

"Ahh, I see," I teased. "Not much to brag about. Let's see. You run a successful restaurant, you're beautiful, sexy, and passionate, you make a perfect cup of coffee, you make your own strawberry jam, and you're the best kisser I've ever known. Nope. You're right, absolutely nothing to brag about."

"Stop it," she blushed with a smile.

I kissed her and said, "I can't wait to find out what other things you're not so good at."

The doorbell rang before she could say anything. I followed her into the kitchen and she opened the door for the delivery boy. She told him to come in out of the rain and put the pizza on the counter. He was a skinny, nondescript guy in a dripping raincoat, about my age. I had to smile at the way his eyes widened when he saw us. "How much is it?" Karen asked, taking out her wallet.

"Uh, twelve fifty," he muttered.

I couldn't resist the chance to tease. I slipped my arms around Karen's waist and rested my chin on her shoulder while I pretended to watch her take out the money. That simple act would probably give the delivery boy fodder for a week of late night fantasies. He was blushing, trying to look casual, but when Karen handed him a twenty, he almost dropped it. "Keep the change," she said.

He paused and said, "You sure? That's, like, a big tip."

I was thinking how easy it would be to blow the delivery guy's mind, and I almost did kiss Karen's neck. Instead, I just looked up and smiled when Karen said, "That's OK. It's no fun to have to come out in the rain."

"Wow, thanks a lot," he stammered. "Really."

He fumbled out the door, and Karen turned to me with her impish smile. "Were you trying to mess with that boy's mind?"

Now I did kiss her neck. "Hey, you said yourself I was a bad girl. Besides, you're the one blowing his mind with a seven dollar tip on a twelve dollar order."

She chuckled and shook her head. "Why don't you bring the pizza into the living room and I'll pour out the sodas." I took the pizza box and the same TV tray we'd used for our uneaten breakfast into the living room. Karen set down the drinks and said, "I'll be right back."

I flopped on the sofa and when she came back, Karen was carrying a large, well-worn comforter. "This is my movie-watching blanket," she said, opening it. "I do most of my relaxing and movie watching in the winter when life slows down," she explained as she sat down and nestled close to me, pulling the blanket over us. "I've never had a reason to take it out during the summer."

Karen turned on the TV and started the movie, and I opened the pizza box. I realized how hungry I was as soon as I smelled the pizza. I gave her a slice and we both wolfed them down. "Wow!" I said. "This really is good pizza."

"Isn't it? He makes his own sauce and dough. The cheese is so good and greasy and buttery, just the way it should be."

I was too hungry, and the pizza was too hot, to play around with it like I did with the jam. By the time the opening credits of the movie were finished, we had demolished three-quarters of the pizza. "Oink, oink," I said around my last bite. "What a pig, but it sure hit the spot."

Karen handed me a napkin and we wiped our chins, swallowed our drinks, and heaved contented sighs. "Yup, that was good. That was a lot of pizza for me. Two slices is usually my max."

"Same here, but then I don't usually go eighteen hours without eating."

I leaned back into the sofa and pulled her into a light embrace. She shifted around until she found a comfortable position with her lovely butt tucked against the hollow of my pelvis. I nuzzled my face in the crook of her neck and delighted in the softness of her skin and her gentle smell. I slid one hand under her robe and very lightly stroked my fingers over her upper thigh and hip, just enough to make her sigh and wriggle closer to me.

I wasn't paying much attention to the movie. It was hard to think of anything other than Karen and the surprisingly powerful feelings she provoked in me. I was well acquainted with the euphoria that came with thinking I was in love. The first time it happened went back to the tremendous, aching crush I had on my dance instructor when I was 13. She was a lovely, totally straight married woman. I managed to get over her, just as millions of other kids got over their own crushes on teachers. The next one was much more painful. It was the girl who took my virginity, the same summer I was overcoming the crush on my dance instructor. At 18, she was a lot older than I was, and I fell hard for her. Our relationship was intense and very sexual, and I thought we'd be together forever. However, when autumn rolled around she left for college and the myriad adventures and lovers awaiting her in her life as an adult. I was crushed, and I wasn't over her until Abbie came waltzing into my life.

Abbie moved to the area before the start of our freshman year of high school. It took a while before she became more than another face in the hall, but it was inevitable we'd come together. She was a gorgeous blonde with a wild side a mile wide – not that I was a wallflower, far from it. By Christmas, we'd found each other. The one thing I appreciated about Abbie, besides the fact that she was hot and willing, was her honesty. She made it clear up front that she wasn't interested in a traditional relationship.

"I'm queer, and I'm a slut," is about how she put it. I could deal with that, and I willingly followed along with her. She showed me that I could love and enjoy sex it for its own sake. Under the surface though, was the constant gnawing urge to be with someone on a deeper level. When I was a junior, I started to fall for a girl from the local college. She was from away, and she liked me a lot, but she wasn't about to become emotionally entangled with some local high school girl when the world at large was awaiting her. After she left, I promised I was going to stay with Abbie and take my fun where I could find it.