A Hot Day in December

For her own scene, it would be a basic missionary position with most of their clothes still on. That and the use of Michelle's couch made it seem more abrupt, dirtier somehow. It was as if they couldn't wait to fully undress and go into the bedroom. He simply entered her after a few moments of her hand stroking him from top to bottom.

What she couldn't know was what that erect cock would feel like in her. She retrieved her hairbrush and inserted it into herself. From experience, she knew that with one of her hands rubbing her clitoris and the other working the brush an orgasm could be reliably obtained. To get better traction she put her feet up on the seat and spread her legs even further.

The imaginary part of it was important too. Probably they would praise each other's attributes.

Paul, you have such a big, hard cock.

And you have such a hot, sweet cunt.

During this, her mind was almost gone from the restroom in upper Manhattan and was mostly in the little wooden house a few miles away. A stray thought came to her about how quickly a car could take her across the Triborough Bridge and then to Michelle's parlor.

No one else had yet come into the room, so she felt unrestrained about moaning as she handled herself. She wasn't that loud but vocalizing intensified her pleasure. If the outside door opened she would hear it as a warning. She hoped that wouldn't happen because this session was cresting at such a good pace that it would be a pity to have to start over.

She remembered from the Danish porn photos that when the girl was on the bottom she had spread her legs up and out about as far as they would go. By deduction it was easy to figure out the point of that; there would be a more intimate collision between the male's hips and the female's crotch. Judy had never felt that but she guessed it must be very intense indeed.

Michelle had told her that reaching behind a man and gripping his ass might inspire him to come faster -- assuming that was what was wanted. Judy wanted it now.

My God, I'm going to come in you, I'm going to put my hot load into you..

Oh please do it, please shoot into me.

Straightforward dialogue, perhaps, but again it got the job done. As Judy climaxed she said things like, "Fuck, fuck my pussy, ah God, ah, ah." This was now rather loud but, fortunately, no one walked in now because she was beyond stopping. Her fingers slid along the hairbrush and she felt herself clamp down on that hand. "Oh, yeah, fuck that, fuck my cunt."

She was often surprised at how out of breath she was at the end of these events. Michelle's living room faded from her mind and she leaned back and rested while staring at the gray stall door. Well, that was one of the better ones, and pretty fast too.

She remembered that this very building had once been a dormitory for girls of the Manhattanville College of the Sacred Heart. That had ended around 1952 when the city bought the South Campus. The youngest cohort of those women would be in their forties now. What had her long-gone Catholic sisters thought about and done while living in this place?

It was time to leave. She noted how soaked her brush was. Man, did all that come out of me? It was for lubrication, pussy juice one could call it. Plus that stuff from men, pre-cum was the name -- it all made intercourse possible.

Judy, you've got to stop thinking about this or you've going to do it again, right now. Jesus, I'm becoming a sex maniac. She wiped off the brush and put it into her purse. Then she decided on something else.

I'm not going to put my tights and panties back on, I'm just going to walk around bare under my skirt. Even though it was December she had an urge to try it for the first time. I'm a hot sexy woman, as well as being a woman of heart and mind as Joni Mitchell put it. Sexy women experiment with sexy behaviors.

For a moment she had that bittersweet feeling that often came after masturbation, the realization that the person imagined in the scene wasn't really there. She was alone in this room in this mostly deserted building. Well, let's get out of here, it's depressing. The last thing she did was admire her boots. Guys like girls with boots, don't they? She remembered Gene Hackman picking up a boot-wearing woman in The French Connection. I wonder what it would be like to have sex while wearing these?

Outside she considered going to the security office across the way and having a guard drive her through the dusk to one of the subway stations. Instead, she walked the two blocks to Amsterdam Avenue to hail a livery cab. Along the way, she felt the cold air around her thighs, hips, and crotch. It was a bit uncomfortable yet there was also a pleasant tingling sensation. It gave her a feeling of power. Hah, maybe I'm getting goosebumps around my pussy.

She was able to quickly hail a car and she was down to her corner in fifteen minutes. Before going home she stopped at a deli to pick up a few items. The checkout clerk was a college-aged guy she had seen before. She had never said anything to him beyond thanking him for returning her change.

I'm not going to start with guys in stores, there are thousands of them at the school I actually go to. Nevertheless, Michelle sometimes flirted just for the fun of it. It would be simple enough to just say hello, ask for his name, say I've seen you here before. She smiled to herself imagining a follow-up. By the way, I'm not wearing panties under my skirt. What do you think of that?

That would be way too much to start with. Most guys would be sort of shocked rather than intrigued. But the minority who could handle it, those might be interesting to know.

Michelle had said to her once, "Sometimes you have to be coy, but sometimes you have to approach a man like a fighter plane coming in out of the sun, attack and strafe him from end to end."

Judy had just gaped at that. Michelle had continued, "Wow, where did I get such a violent image from?"

Anyway, Judy had had enough for this day. The clerk had been at that store for months and he could always be added to the agenda later if that seemed worth it. She paid as usual and said "Thank you" as usual. He offered no expression indicating that she was anything to him beyond a customer. Now it was time to go home and study for that last exam of the year.

She had been invited to Michelle's New Year's Eve party. The previous year they had been at someone's place in Queens and the annoying Hank had still been around. This time Paul would surely be there.

Judy was ambivalent about big parties; she was uncomfortable with large numbers of people she barely knew and she usually wound up being more wasted at the end than she had originally intended. What did serious drinkers call New Year's, Amateur Night?

Resolutions for 1975? Talk to some guys, just see what happens. Talk to Paul, just to get some practice. I'm not going to seduce him, I'm not that kind of person.

Then she thought of a scene in an old cartoon with Elmer Fudd or maybe Daffy Duck. A little Judy-like devil sat on her shoulder and said into her ear, Go ahead, make a play for him, it would be so easy.

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