Making Music with Nick Ch. 01

Nick and I had been seeing each other for six months at the same club. He was gorgeous, always wore tight trousers which showed off his slim thighs and round bottom, with some kind of casual top which went with his light complexion, lovely brown eyes and dark wavy hair. He was a lawyer, and didn't know how beautiful he was, with wonderfully dishevelled hairstyle and that thrown together look which was devastatingly sexy. He had full pink lips which he pouted beautifully when he played the sax, and when he played the clarinet he moved his strong fingers deftly over the instrument, with a faraway look in his beautiful eyes. I started thinking he could purse those soft lips around mine, and could move his strong fingers around any part of me he chose.

And Nick didn't do relationships. He hinted at things in his past which would stop him doing the usual things, hanging out with girls, dating, kissing, feeling, touching. And now, a mature man, had he ever been kissed? Had he ever felt the touch of a woman on his body, had he ever reached beautiful mutual completion of the most intimate kind? He wanted to be good friends, he said, and that I seemed to want more. Too right I did. I wanted to kiss him passionately, to run my tongue around inside his soft mouth. I wanted to run my hands around his lovely muscular body. I wanted to run my hands against his dark body hair, some of which I had managed to glimpse at unguarded moments. I wanted his strong hands to play me like the instruments, to feel for my nipples and press them, squeeze them, stroke them, watch them go hard in the night air. Most importantly, I wanted him inside me, I wanted to feel his hardness rubbing against my inner surfaces, tingling and caressing, rubbing and sliding. I wanted him to take me in a wild place, right there on the ground, in the primitive way that generations had in the historic times which he held so dear. I wanted him to pleasure me until I screamed in ecstasy.

I spent so long frustrated, as he obviously loved me, cared about me, smiled at me, chatted, shared food, told me his thoughts. But I loved this guy, and I decided I wanted to be around him, on his terms if that was how it had to be. Some nights I nearly cried with frustration when I left him, ripe for him, longing for him, wanting him, but still untouched, still unsatisfied. When I got home I often found I was still so aroused by the thought of him that I found myself reaching for the secret place, feeling its readiness, feeling the rigid parts, feeling the soft parts, feeling the wet parts, stroking and soothing them to a climax, thinking all the time of him, wondering what his member would look like, hard, standing upright, soft, dangling so temptingly. I imagined it when he slid it into me, and my finger became the wonderful shaft which was going to pleasure me into oblivion. I imagined us coupled together, joined, united, feeling mutual pleasure, groaning, crying, speaking sweet words of love as we moved together to our mutual climax. But still this gorgeous creature did not want to take the delights I offered him in my mind.

But at one point I was due not to see him for a while due to circumstances, and slightly erotic thoughts started to appear in his e-mails. So he did have that side to him, he was unbending to me. I tried to respond in like manner, push him a little further, and he seemed to like it. My lovely, funny, innocent Nick was a real man after all. This had a wonderful effect on me, as privately I explored myself all day long, pretending it was his organ that was rubbing against me, parting the lips, entering into the damp sweetness, filling me, satisfying me, one minute right inside me, moving around, pressing on lovely places, the next minute on the outside, the lovely ridge of his glans flicking my clitoris, both of us groaning at the pent up pleasure now being released. I had decided he had a long, pink, slim penis, with a pronounced glans, which went red when he was aroused, and which was shrouded with layers of skin when resting. I hoped it wasn't too big, as I liked the idea of it being skilfully applied to me and being a pleasure, rather than an overwhelming thing.

It then came time to see him again. At the club we somehow concentrated on the show, looking, smiling. Would it be tonight? At the interval I went to the toilet, feeling how my parts were ready, swollen and dripping. I gave them a little rub, feeling the wetness. Not long now, I told them. Near the end of the show I made an excuse to go out again, and removed my lower underwear. I hoped I would not stain my clothes as I sat down and tried to concentrate.

The show ended, we all filed out, and we went to stand by our cars and say goodnight. Others came by, we let them go, until there were only the two of us in the street. "Can I give you a hug?" he asked shyly. I smiled and nodded assent, and somehow managed to just stand there, let him be in control, let it be lovely and relaxed. He stepped near to me, put one arm round my shoulders, the other round the small of my back. He looked long into my face, moved one hand behind the back of my neck, gently pulled my face towards him, and planted a reverential kiss on one cheek. I felt my parts go to jelly, my nerves tingle, but I stood still and smiled at him. He moved again, put his lips on mine, kissed me so gently I nearly fainted. That was a lingering kiss this time, and as he gently inserted his tongue between my lips, I felt my juices begin to run down my thighs.

I couldn't help moving my body closer to his, and to my delight he pushed nearer to me, pressing his lower body on to mine, telling me, asking me. I moved one arm behind his bottom – oh it felt so good, so firm, so gorgeous - and squeezed gently, and pulled him towards me. We both groaned as we were lost in another exploring kiss, moistnesses mingled, tongues encircling. I loosed one arm, and moved away a bit, to allow him to touch me.

I had on a wide-necked t-shirt, and a very pretty bra with loose straps which kept coming off my shoulder, and it was this bare dishevelledness which I let him see next. He pulled away the t-shirt, pulled down the strap, and stroked my bare shoulder, moving down to my breast inside the pretty lace. My breasts are plump, and I knew he loved them, as I had nearly showed them to him so many times, accidentally on purpose when bending down. Now he gently took my breast in one hand, feeling for the nipple and squeezing it between his fingers, with his other hand moving my face up for another passionate kiss. During that kiss he kneaded my breast, and pinched my nipple, ever harder as he heard me cry in pleasure.

After that kiss I wanted more. I wanted the whole lot, here on the street in the dead of night. I wanted him to press me against the car, the wall, and have me. I pressed my lower body towards him again, and he started to run his hand downwards. He lifted the hem of my skirt, and found my plump thigh. I tingled all over with anticipation, and we kissed again as his hand explored upwards. He murmured "Oh God!", as he found I had nothing on under the skirt. I moved so that I was leaning on the car, so that I could open my legs slightly. He found my soft dark fur and stroked it, curling it around his finger. Why do people shave, it's so much more fun like this. Oh, it tickled so much, and I groaned with pleasure as he rubbed my mound. Then his finger went exploring, down past the thicker tuft of hair in the centre, to the mysteries which it hides. He found my soft parts, my wet parts, and the rigid part in the centre. I took his hand and showed him what I wanted, showed him how to rub round and round my clitoris, rub the lips and finally find the wet slit which leads to the cave of love. I showed him how to spread the wetness and go back out again, up around the clitoris, above it to the mound, wetting the fur now, and come back down, and plunge in for more. I showed him what delights there were within, as he explored my cave with his finger, finding smooth places, rough places, and the place which made me gasp. I showed him how to rub that place upwards, and send me into frenzies, trying to keep quiet, trying to hold in the ecstasy.

After a little while of this, I was not satisfied. "I want you" I murmured in a broken voice. No time to linger, I just wanted him in me, satisfying me. With one hand he unzipped the gorgeous tight black trousers, got himself out of the slinky briefs he was wearing underneath, and his tool was there, resplendent in the moonlight. I ran a finger the full length of it, found the lovely ridge, and my parts started to melt, as he was still pleasuring them. I found some wetness on the head of his penis, and rubbed that around the head, making him groan. I wanted to bend down and pleasure him with my mouth, but that had to wait for another time – I would just imagine it for now. "I want you" I said again, more urgently this time. He let go of me, and I caught up my skirt under my chin for a moment, as I readied myself.

With one hand I opened my lips, and with the other, held a hand out for him. He stepped near, leaned on me and manoeuvred his member where I was showing him. He touched it to my clitoris for a moment, then the lips parted, and he slid into me, and I cried out with pleasure. Oh, the wonderful feeling as he went past every nerve ending inside me! Oh, the wonderful feeling as I felt his penis inside me at last, filling me with a lovely tight fit, the very first time, but so familiar as I had imagined it so many times. He plunged all the way in, and just leaned against me, and we kissed again, a deep passionate kiss that says we are one. As we kissed he began to move, still deep inside me, catching the place that makes me gasp, him groaning in ecstatic agony at this new but wonderful sensation. I started to grind my clitoris against him, feeling the root of his penis and his body beyond, applying wonderful pressure to my most sensitive and intimate part. I felt that juices were escaping me around his penis, and it was the most delicious sensation I have ever felt.

I started to lean back and hold his bottom with both hands, alternately pulling him into me, grinding against him, then letting him go until his glans was tickling my clitoris on the way both in and out. We were copulating, making love, having intercourse. He was no longer a virgin, and he was loving it. I was so scared he was going to come quickly, but with a visible effort hung on. We settled into a lovely synchronisation, and I relaxed and enjoyed every movement. I felt complete at last, with the man I loved, enjoying the best intimacy known to man and woman. I was glad we had waited so long, no fumbling, no awkwardness, just two people in love enjoying each other. We called each other darling, lover, wonderful, as we consummated this long-held passion.

I could feel a lovely deepening of the sensations in my clitoris and in my cave of love, and began to groan even louder, seeing stars in my head and stars in the sky. I knew it was coming, that lovely explosion of release which is the orgasm, the climax of all that I am. I grabbed his bottom and dug my nails in, wrenching him into me, screaming as I shuddered to my climax. I felt waves and waves of pleasure go through me, like a sea on a distant moonlit shore. I felt a tingling sensation start at my clitoris, move through my groin, out through my stomach, down my legs, and my heart skipped a beat. In the middle of all this, I felt him pumping, fucking me, hurting me, saying all kinds of things as he found his release too. He thrust hard into me, once, twice, a third time, a big groan with each ejaculation, then we held each other, his head on my shoulder, my hands stroking his lovely hair, calling him dear, darling, lover all over again. My lovely innocent Nick was initiated, was a complete man, had had a woman and had loved it.

We stood like that for a few seconds, then I began to push him away, and he slid his member out of me, still big, shiny, wet, covered with our mingled juices. Liquid began flowing out of me, and he scooped some on his finger and sucked it, and stroked my furry mound lovingly. I bent down and kissed his member, which was now flaccid, having done its wonderful job, and now allowed to rest at last. We had to be practical, and found some tissues, and we cleaned each other tenderly. He put his penis away, I let my skirt fall, covering again the site of the great loving encounter. One last embrace, one last time of saying I love you, one last goodnight kiss. No playing with ourselves when we got home this time – just thinking of what we would do next time......