The Girl in the Cartwheel Hat|
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Copyright ©2013 Mikala Ash
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"Tell me about your first time."
I opened my eyes and gazed at tonight's Adonis. Garth, a literature major from the local college, peered up at me from between my thighs, his gorgeous lips glistening.
"What did you say?" I asked icily. I was a tad peeved that his agile tongue was uttering inane demands when it should have been licking my aching clit. I was particularly aggrieved because Garth's tongue was very, very good at its self-appointed duty.
Pale, blue-gray eyes contrasted with the sun-kissed ruddiness of his tanned face. I suspected he was a surfer; he had the lively vitality I've always associated with Californians. I'm a sucker for a good tan and blond hair, and Garth was blessed with both.
I'd picked him up at a downtown pub. He was playing pool with some other college lads. I'd watched him for a few minutes. He was well built and carried himself with an easy grace. It was a simple thing to catch his eye with a coquettish smile. He hurriedly lost his game, which, up until that moment, he'd been winning easily. Obviously he was a young man who knew his priorities. After he'd said goodbye to his friends, he'd boldly approached and asked if I was in need of a drink.
Little did he know how thirsty I truly was. He'd bought me an iced tea, and how he'd raised his sandy eyebrow at that surprising request. The traditional icebreakers ensued. He was casual, articulate, and oh so young without being boorish which many of this generation could be. Things had swiftly developed from then. After a move to a shadowy corner, a deep kiss and a subtle fumble, I'd made the easy decision to bring him home.
He'd been impressed with my little red sports car and up-market apartment, though he hadn't been so crass as to draw attention to them as so many men his age would have done. That impressed me. He'd been itching to get into my pants but he'd played it cool. No immediate gratification for this one.
"Tell me about your first fuck."
His question brought me back to the present moment with a jolt. "Why should I do that?"
"It turns me on."
"Humor me," he continued. "You might get a kick out of it too."
Perhaps he was worth humoring. I hadn't yet touched his magnificent cock because he'd surprised me by being a gentleman and, without any prompting, spread my legs and engaged in some preliminary cunnilingus.
"Well..." I hesitated, not because I was shy or because the "first time" was too unpleasant to discuss. On the contrary, I just wasn't sure I wanted to share that with someone I'd only met ninety minutes ago, because there was a very real chance he'd freak out, and I'd have to kill him.
He poked out his surprisingly long tongue and let it hover over my clit. "Go on," he prompted. "I'll make it worth your while."
"Oh, all right," I surrendered. "Just get back to what you were doing."
He lowered his head and slid the flat of his tongue all the way from the bottom of my pussy up to my clit. I shivered and, with a deep sigh, sank my head back onto my pillow.
One more stroke of the tongue. Then nothing... "You're not speaking," he said.
"You're not licking," I replied.
"You go first, and while you talk, you can enjoy my specialty at the same time."
He thought he had me over a barrel, but what the hell? He had a pleasing nature, with no silly pretensions or boring arrogance. His ego seemed pleasantly grounded. It cost me nothing to indulge him, and besides, the memories were more than pleasant...