Date: Wed, 27 Jan 1999 15:26:17 +0000 From: Moonwatcher Subject: First Encounter, (TG, m/m, TV) First Encounter (m/m, tv) Yada yada, legal age, no minors, etc. Whatever. This story is based on truth, but edited to remove the bits that didn't fit the fantasy. She opens the door, carefully, almost hiding behind it so that she's not visible from outside. I look at her, smiling slightly. Initially, her expression is wary, watchful but then she recognises me and smiles back; an embarrassed smile. I match it. "Come in", she says. Her voice is deep, husky, a mix of feminine with a hint of depth beneath. I find it inviting, it makes me shiver, unless that's just the realness of the situation, the actuality of it all, the movement from fantasy to reality. "Thanks", I say, and enter the house. She opens the door, still behind it, as I come through, retreating slightly so that, again, she's hidden from outside view. As I pass her she closes it. I take another step, looking round at her, then pause. She's dressed exactly as she said she would be, now that I have time to translate between my expectations and what I see. She herself matches her photographs, which is never exactly sure in this sort of situation. She's made up carefully, just enough to shade over from everyday into slightly tarty. Her clothes, though, are definitely on the showy side. A black semi-transparent blouse, through which I can see a black bra, no lace. A short skirt, tight against her thighs, made of a shiny satin material. Tights or stockings; she promised stockings, anyway. Shoes with a small heel - she's tall enough anyway. Her hair is dark, shoulder length. Earrings and a bracelet, gold. Whilst I take all this in, she's looking back at me. She still has the slightly embarrassed smile; she's aware that I'm admiring her. She's standing with one leg bent, one hand raised to the back of the door that's she's closed. She blushes, dropping her gaze. We both laugh, just for a moment, and it seems that we've passed some barrier. "In here", she says, and walks past me, along the hallway. There are two doors on the right; the first presumably to a front room which would look out of the front of the house. She obviously doesn't want to be seen there; she passes that door and turns right into a back room. As she walks, I'm looking at her backside. She has a nice bum, not small, but well rounded. Her skirt shows it off to perfection, and she's walking carefully, so that it twitches at me. I follow it, admiring the motion and her legs. As she enters the room, she turns back to look at me, catching me looking. My initial hesitancy has all but gone, and I linger before looking up and straight into her eyes. Sometimes, when you meet the eyes of someone who you find attractive, you can almost feel your instincts kick in. You feel yourself flush with blood and time seems to slow down as you gaze into their eyes. It might only be a glance, but it feels like you're sending long and involved messages. Well, let's be honest here, the messages all come down to one simple phrase: "I want you". I guess she got the message, because she took a step back, so that the light from the back window (blinds carefully drawn all the way down) fell on her, moved her hands away from her body, palm up, in a "here I am" gesture and said, "Well, what do you think?" "I don't think your pictures were very truthful," I say. I wait half a second to increase the impact and then add, "You were good-looking in them, but you're really gorgeous". I draw out the word "gorgeous", emphasising and savouring it. She grins, and poses a little more. We're about three feet apart now, and I realise that I very much want to kiss her. Before I can move, though, she comes over all practical. "Can I take your coat?", she says. It's not quite the phrase I was hoping for, but after a moment's consideration I realise that she should be setting the pace, not me. After all, it's her house. And her body. I shrug off my jacket. She takes it, and puts it over the arm of a chair next to the door. I walk a little further into the room and look around. There's a sofa, large and comfortable looking, a chair to match it. Quite a large, Victorian room, light and airy. A large back window, with a blind across it, lets in plenty of light. It's warm. "Sit down", she says. It's a sort of question and invitation in one, and I move to the sofa and sit, about two thirds of the way along. After all, if I sat at one end, she might sit at the other, and I'm hoping that the distance between us will get very small before too long. By sitting there I'm giving her the option of sitting so that we're close, but not too close. A fine calculation on my part. She sits down (smoothing her skirt under her, though really it's not long or loose enough to need it) and slightly sideways, so that she's leaning a little and turned towards me. Her left elbow is on the back of the sofa, and she leans her head on that hand. Her right hand tugs slightly at the edge of her skirt, teasing away an imaginary wrinkle, then clasps her left knee. Her legs are uncrossed and her feet are still on the floor. A moment passes. She's changed the atmosphere a little, losing the embarrassment of meeting by following the "welcome-to-my-house" rituals. I look at her, meeting her eyes. She licks her lips slightly. They're well outlined lips, full lips. Again, I very much want to kiss them. "I like your house", I say. I'm thinking, I'd better follow this line of conversation until I'm sure that it's okay to move onto ... other things. "Thank you. " she says. "It's nice enough, with just me living here. I've been here around five years now, so it's pretty much how I like it. It's pretty private, especially with the blinds closed." We're looking straight into each other's eyes again as she says that last sentence, and there are definitely very basic messages going in both directions. "So", I say, "did you like our last IRC conversation?" "Definitely", she replies. We still have that unbroken gaze between us, but now she breaks it to close her eyes, just for a moment, before she goes on. "I came like crazy. Did you?" She's very direct, I think. Definitely my kind of woman. "No", I say, "not then. I saved myself." She arches her eyebrows a little. "So you're expecting something, then?" Of course I am, and we both know it. We're grinning now; this is a great game. "Just waiting to see if anything's offered." There's a pause. I put a questioning look on my face. She takes her right hand from her knee and carefully shifts herself so that her feet leave the floor and her legs tuck up beneath her a little. Then she reaches over to my right hand, picks it up, squeezes it slightly and puts it on her left thigh, just above the edge of her skirt. She's warm to the touch, and her skirt is smooth and silky. I lay my hand on her, spreading my fingers out, then pressing into her. I slide my hand up and down her leg just a little, to feel her skirt rasp gently against her stockings. We're both looking at my hand as I do this. She breathes out, a long exhalation, an indication of pleasure. I look up at her. "Do you like me?", she asks, quietly. There's a tremor in her voice; I would guess there's a tremor in mine too. My hand feels like it's shaking, or as though I'm slightly drunk. In the words of Raymond Chandler, I feel as randy as a stallion. "God, yes." I reply. It's time. I move a couple of inches closer to her. Her eyes flicker over my face and finally, as I close the gap between us, they close. Her lips are even better than they looked. The first kiss is brief, gentle, though the shock of it feels like a static spark between us. The next starts softly, lips closed, and then moves into something more as our heads turn, her arms come up and around my neck, my hands move over her body, our lips open and our tongues meet. The kiss goes on, hardening, softening as we almost lap at each other. Finally we draw apart. We're both breathing heavily. She takes one of her hands from where they have been clasped behind my head and trails it down my chest. Slowly she moves it further down, opening her fingers and pressing in until she has me outlined under my jeans. She squeezes me gently and I gasp to let her know how good that is. She kisses me, firmly, and both hands work at me now, loosening buttons and fumbling at my belt. I help her with it and, as I come undone, shift myself to let her pull at my jeans. I'm hard against her hand now, just my shorts between her and me. She undoes the buttons, from top to bottom, carefully. Her fingernails are painted a dark red. Before the last button is undone I'm free, rising slightly away from my body, pulsing with my heartbeat. She places one hand palm up, cradling me, and strokes me with the other. She glances up at me, a wide smile on her face. "Nice?", she asks. I sigh with pleasure in reply. "It's so soft", she says, looking back down. "But still nice and hard." "How about you?", I ask. She gives me a reproving look. "All in good time." She strokes me again, and then lowers her head. I lean back against the sofa and anticipate. Her lips touch my cock. She kisses her way down it gently, and then trails her tongue up again, reaching the tip. Then she carefully eases it into her mouth; just a fraction at first, then out. Then a little more, then out. Then she takes me deep inside, rolling her tongue over me, over the most sensitive bits at the tip, at the front. Now I gasp for real. She is very, very good at this. My right hand is on her back, and she's slipped sideways on the sofa. Her skirt is tight over her bum, and now I slide my hand down onto her buttocks, and savour the feel of them. A little lower, and I feel the edge of her skirt. Frustratingly, it's so tight against her thighs that I can't slide underneath it. Her legs are close together, but as I try to move my finger between her thighs I feel her open them. She removes a hand from my cock for a moment, and reaches back to her skirt, easing it up. I slide my hand in between her thighs and upwards, finding the tops of her stockings and smooth shaven skin above. Searching upwards I find silken material along her crotch. I move my fingers up and back, pushing her skirt over her buttocks. I ease her panties aside as I reach the crucial area, and reach inside. Here too her skin is smooth, and warm. I brush her opening with a finger, asking permission. She takes her mouth from me for a moment. "Go on, try it". My finger touches stickiness, slipperiness. She's already well lubricated, so I wasn't the only one expecting something. I slide my little finger just barely inside, treating her gently. She responds by pushing herself back against me; I can almost feel her dilating. I remove the smallest finger and ease the middle one in. I take it slowly, letting her get used to each incremental bit, sliding out a little, then in further until I'm sliding the whole finger gently in and out. I add another, easing them apart when they're inside her. She lifts her head from me and I look down, worried that this is too much, but she's looking wild, excited. "I can't decide," she says, "between sucking you or fucking you." She kisses me before I can reply, and I taste myself on her tongue. She pulls away from me, and stands. She takes a breath, and then shakes her hair back. I gaze up; her lipstick is smeared, her skirt is halfway up and she's breathless and flushed. I don't think I have seen anything as erotic in my entire life. Then she reaches around to the side of her skirt and unzips it, letting it fall down around her ankles and stepping out of it. Her hands move to the waistband of her panties. "Wait", I say. She looks back at me. I sit up and reach out, taking her hands away, replacing them with mine. I move forward to the edge of the sofa so that I'm sitting in front of her, head level with her belly, and I pull her panties down slowly. Her cock is pulled down for a moment, and then springs up at me. It's shaven, glistening, swollen and wonderful. I let her panties drop to the floor and lean forward to kiss it, letting my tongue roll around the tip. I take it in my mouth while my finger stroke and caress her balls. Her hands touch the sides of my head, and then hold me. Then they ease me back, away from her. I let my tongue rub over her as I withdraw, and then look up at her. Saying nothing, she pushes me back. I take the hint and sit back on the sofa. She kneels and pulls off my shoes and socks, followed by my jeans. I help her get my shorts off. She stands up, one leg either side of mine, and kneels forward so that she straddles me. Once her weight is on the sofa she moves closer to me; I reach out and clasp her hips to steady her so that she can have a hand free. Her right hand holds me as she lowers herself, guiding me against her. I feel my cock touch her, then press against her opening. She pushes back and down, dilating, and I enter her. The feeling is fantastic. She's tight against me, and we move with each other, her eyes closed, mine open and watching her, each push taking me just a little further in. It takes about half a minute; she grits her teeth a couple of times and I ease off to let her know that she is in control. When I'm fully in she carefully lets her weight down on me, opens her eyes and looks down at me. "Is this what you were expecting?" she asks. I grin at her, and let my hands slide up from her hips, over her belly and down, moving around under her balls. I take hold of her cock and gently move my hand up and down. "You're everything I was expecting and more", I say. Corny, but genuinely meant.