He didn't kiss like a geek, or like a pervert. His lips were soft and slightly cool, dry, and very nice. He didn't seem to be in any sort of a rush, and just put his effort into kissing.

I only walked in to escape the rain.

I'd dressed for the summer, and hadn't realised the day was planning to play practical jokes. A short skirt and t-shirt wasn't the best combination for a wet afternoon, and the museum was the closest point of refuge.

The quiet, cool, dry corridors were a huge contrast with outside, and I decided to take a wander before heading back out, hoping that my clothes might dry properly and that perhaps the rain would stop.

I'd never have thought so in advance, but I was drawn to the bones. Prehistoric dinosaur skeletons and Palaeolithic turtles. Petrified bird turds from Africa, and amber dragonfly fossils.

The echoing halls were largely empty, and it seemed that just walking in them was some kind of intrusion, quite aside from the fact that I must have been dripping water on the well-trodden floor, at least for a while. It was inviting though, wandering amongst the exhibits and peering at the well spaced displays. Occasionally the rich old wooden structures were interrupted by some attempt at modern museum science. Some sort of blinking interactive screen enticing children to smear its surface with their chocolate-dirtied fingers. The consoles seemed out of place though, and I avoided them when I could. I wanted the old-school museum.

It was an hour or so before I saw the pervert. He wasn't quite what I expected, though he exhibited all the major symptoms. He was in his twenties, and looked more geeky than pervy, a thin face in deep glasses on a tall frame. Jeans and an untucked white business shirt. Just the one pen in his pocket.

I wondered, briefly, if he was also escaping the weather, but he seemed too comfortable in the large dinosaur hall, helping folk and answering questions in between sneaking looks at me.

Okay, so maybe I didn't mind that so much. I couldn't resist checking though, and ducked behind what might well have been God's thigh bone, turning to peer across the ancient calcium deposit. He was looking straight at me, a smile on his face. I could have turned away. I could have hidden again. I could have run; left; gone back to the rain. I smiled back at him, and he walked over.

"Are you enjoying the exhibit?" he asked with a grin.

"Depends. Are you throwing people out today if they just came in to escape the weather?"

"Not for a first offence."

"So I'm safe."

"Oh, I didn't say that."

"What if... what if I have dinosaur questions?"

"Well then, that's core business. I could never turn that away. What is it that interests you?"

"Ah... Dino sex."

"Oh?"

"Sort of. I was wondering... How did the lady dinos indicate their interest, in situations where it was inappropriate, wasn't going to go anywhere, and didn't make the slightest bit of sense?"

His eyebrows lifted, and he paused before responding. "They would just ask. It's an established historical fact that Ms Dino was one liberated... er... chick."

"Liberated chick? And this is the official line?"

"It's semi-official, but not promoted."

I grinned. "It's a secret?"

"More like an inconvenient fact."

"A hidden one?"

"Badly. How desperate is this chick?"

"Not desperate. Opportunistic. Anticipative."

"She plays the field?"

"Only if she has no other commitments, or conflicts."

"She's asking now?"

"She's asking."

"Come with me," he said, quietly, confidently, and with more of the smile.

"I... don't you have to... you know. Help?"

That made him grin, and his face dimpled. "It's my break."

"Oh." I couldn't decide why, but I really wanted to go with him. "Which way?"

He took my hand. "Just walk with me."

I didn't resist. I looked up at his face. He was a little taller than me. "Rose."

"Neil. Nice to meet you, Rose. This way."

He led me to a large door in the side of the hall, behind one of the dinosaur skeletons. As we approached he took a key from his pocket. His movements were all thoroughly assured, as though it wasn't possible that anything would distract him from his intentions. I felt as though I couldn't provide that distraction by resisting, and anyway I wanted to see what he was going to do next. And I liked the way he spoke, though he'd had to little to say.

Neil pulled the door open with his free hand and led me through it, releasing me to turn and lock it again behind us. In front of me was an old set of stairs. Just the sort of thing you might expect to find in a museum. Rich, dark, well-worn wood, glowing with an air of stability and age. Heavily varnished banisters bounded both sides, with turned balusters fencing off the area. The stairs themselves were dusty, with clearish spots near the centre of each tread, where the feet most commonly found themselves I guessed. Would it make any sense if I said the stairs seemed as though they were expecting something? Waiting? Anticipating?

When I saw the dust I realised that I could also see shadows, and looked up to see that the sunshine had returned. The rain must have been banished while I was inspecting bones in the hall, and summer had returned.

I couldn't actually see where the sunlight was coming from though, and turned back to Neil just in time for him to take my hand again, and walk with me up the wide stairs. There were no turns or landings. We suddenly cleared the top of the stairs and could see across another smooth wood floor.

It was an apartment of some sort. To my left were a kitchen and a living area, bathed in sunshine from a set of skylights in the roof. To the right was a small bedroom. I could see from where we stood that it contained an old wrought-iron single bed, and there can't have been too much room for anything else.

Further to the right was a set of internal windows, and I pulled Neil towards them and peered through. The windows overlooked the halls downstairs, and while the glass was clear, they were old and murky enough to prevent the few people downstairs from clearly seeing up, I was sure.

I turned to Neil and he put his hands on my hips, not saying a word. I put my hands on his shoulders and pulled him towards me, not speaking, not thinking, and not hesitating at all.

He didn't kiss like a geek, or like a pervert. His lips were soft and slightly cool, dry, and very nice. He didn't seem to be in any sort of a rush, and just put his effort into kissing. Our tongues eventually found each other, and our bodies pressed together. Still no rush, and decidedly no plan.

When he eventually lifted his face from mine, I was smitten. His eyes sparkled with desire, and he smiled before reaching for me again.

I backed away, a grin on my face, and took his hands in mine. Continuing to reverse, I looked quickly behind myself to ensure we were headed for the bedroom. Part of my mind was screaming, wanting to know what in hell I thought I was doing, but I just ignored the noise and pulled Neil to the bed. I fell backwards when we got there, bent my knees, and ended up sitting on the edge of the bed with Neil standing in front of me. The bed was scattered with small squares of sunshine from another skylight. Dust motes sparkled, floating in the air.

He reached out to put his hands on my hips again, and I had my one and only moment of hesitation, quickly scrabbling backwards until I was sitting haphazardly, my back against the wall on the other side of the bed.

I looked up and decided. He might have intentions, but he didn't seem to be dangerous, so when he reached out and grabbed my ankles I didn't make a fuss. I didn't help either, though, as though that token granted me the high moral ground here. As he dragged my unresisting ass back across the bed, my traitorous skirt stayed behind, and by the time he had my knees off the edge of the mattress, the little camo-patterned thing was pretty much around my hips, and my black briefs were on display. As it happened, some of the sunshine squares were shining warmly on my mound, and the dark satin sparkled in the light. I was beyond caring, and only felt a surge of excitement as he inspected me in the sunlight.

He bent, and then knelt on the floor, before reaching his hands out again. This time when his hands reached my hips, I was willing him to touch me more, but all he did was hook his fingers into the waistband of my panties, and stretch the lacy sides a little.

I looked at his hands, at his face, and at the bulge in his jeans, and scrabbled backwards again. Not in regret, or hesitation. I just moved back to make absolutely certain that he would remove my damp, silky, unnecessary panties. He just stayed where he was and my panties fell to my knees. He pulled them the rest of the way down, and persuaded them past my shoes before dropping them to the floor.

This time, his hands travelled up between my legs to the knees, and then along the underside of my thighs, sliding carefully against my skin, his fingers just slightly rough, his movement sure and precise, like everything else.

The next movement was complex, but somehow effortless. His fingertips slid up and under my ass, and as he pulled me toward him again, his elbows parted my knees, and my most intimate, dripping-wet and desperate parts were in just the right position.

His nose pressed gently against my pubic hair, and though I couldn't see very well I could feel him rubbing himself against me, obviously enjoying what must have been an overpoweringly desperate arousal odour by then. His face slid slowly down, his lips kissing gently as he went, and I sighed before falling back on the bed to give him better access.

He took advantage of the offer without hesitation, and the next thing I knew his tongue was lapping happily between my labia, his movements sending shudders through my body.

I was aware of the situation in some way, and I'd certainly never done something like this before, but I ignored all the alarm bells, and encouraged him instead, wrapping my legs around his neck and pulling him closer.

He didn't really need the help. His mouth was already finding its way fearlessly, with his wonderfully textured tongue exploring deep inside me.

I have this thing, usually, where I want to help. To lend my hands, or shout instructions. Perhaps take over and show the klutz where everything goes, and how to make things work. I'm not shy when I get this far along, and I don't hesitate to push clumsy fingers out of the way and take over while my partner watches. Hell, I like them to watch.

But this time, here, with Neil between my legs, I just enjoyed it. He knew exactly what he was doing, and when the tip of his tongue eventually touched my clitoris, I came on the spot. Lying back on a strange little bed, skirt around my hips, shirt not even touched, shoes and socks still on for God's sake, I orgasmed, with a force that surprised me, as a stranger tongued my clit.

Neil was a gentleman in all the ways that count. As I shuddered and quivered in front of him, he moved his attention down just a little, and kept contact with me, but didn't touch my clit again. For a while. As I was calming down enough to remember to breathe, he found his way back.

He was gentle, accommodating, and had a great sense of timing. The second time I almost strangled him with my thighs, and made him stop. I was exhausted, and stunned.

I sat up shakily on the bed as he straightened a little. We kissed. It was a different kiss now. For one thing, he smelled strongly. Of me. I liked that, but it wasn't the same. Also, it's a different thing. There's no need for a hesitant kiss when the tongue in that mouth just made you orgasm twice. You have a certain familiarity you can rely on. I made the most of it.

My hands found their way down the front of his shirt, and caressed the bulge that was readily apparent in the front of them. When I started to undo his belt though, he stopped me.

"I can't, Rose. Not now."

"Oh, come on!"

"No, really." He lifted my hand from his trousers. "It's a... thing. No."

"Neil, listen, you just... please. Let me return the favour."

"Uh uh. Look, could we do this my way?"

"What way is that?"

"Come back."

"Oh? When?"

"Up to you. I'm here most days."

"You live here?"

"Well, not exactly, but during the week, yeah."

"So, tomorrow?"

"Don't ask. Just show up."

"And then... Then you'll... let me?"

"I promise."

"Why not now?"

"I'm not sure I can explain. It's about anticipation."

"I can't persuade you?"

"No. You are beautiful, you know that?"

"You already got into my panties."

"So you know I mean it."

I put my hands on his shoulders and pulled myself to my feet. It seemed pointless to argue. Neil wriggled back a little and stood up himself. I bent down and picked up my panties, and then on an impulse I tucked them into his pocket.

"What are they for?" he asked, his face close to mine.

"Anticipation."

I turned and walked across the floor, and down the stairs. I unlatched the door and left without looking back or saying another word.

The next day I showed up in an even shorter skirt, and he knew before we got through the door that I still had no panties. We didn't even make it to the top of the stairs before he was inside me. The plan includes him eventually fucking me without my shoes on.

I'll show him anticipation!

Jul 2013
Another cute, all have been well written. You are very good.

Jun 2012
Excellent, for a short story, it had a beginning, a middle, and a nice ending.

Jan 2012
wanted more, so I really liked it - really having trouble anticipating a new installment.

Feb 2011
Marlin Munroe said it years ago. Anticipation is better than participation. Very well thought out and well written. I would have loved to be that Neil

Jan 2011
well writen tease, more, more

Jan 2011
Wonderful story...needs a follow-up.

Oct 2010
The story is staccato, the antithesis of anticipation.

Sep 2010
Well crafted, a good read, made me horny, and my nose wiggle

Jul 2010
What? You only write stories that deserve tens?

Jun 2010
Very nice. Unusual but nice. I haven't figured out though why she thought him a perv at first. Well, that anticipation thing is kind of pervy.

May 2010
I liked [this] one although I would have thought it more sexy if their names weren't Neil and rose (just saying, they r old names)

Apr 2010
Loved it! Timing was spot on...one of the hotest stories I've read in a while. Like your site's layout, too: works nicely on an iPod.

Oct 2009
This is more like your normal stories. Good dialogue, and story line. I like the anticipation of the next day.

Aug 2009
I have never sent a message to the author before... but I loved this story. I wish it had been longer, and not skipped over their second visit... but it was great.

Aug 2009
Welcome back; you have been missed. As usual, the story made me want to anticipate better than I have been doing.

Aug 2009
Lovely. Two thumbs up. You have to write more

Aug 2009
Another fine and unusual story well told.

Aug 2009
That was hot.

Aug 2009
Loved it.

Aug 2009
Missed you, this was great and now I'm anticipating.

Aug 2009
Damn good story GBF, very nicely done. Clever ending too. Thanks for sharing another story with us.

Aug 2009
i love the tone. it is great to see smiles in words...

Aug 2009
It's like one of those little Mozart piano pieces, that he seemingly tossed off in five minutes. Delightful.
      GBF: You can't say 'tossed off' in here. :-)

Aug 2009
Great little story - particularly because it didn't end up where I thought it would... and yes, the anticipation is fantastic... and left me wanting to read what happens next... ... so maybe some frustration as well as anticipation...?

Aug 2009
Another good one. Sometimes I just want a stroke story, but then the story takes over from the perceived need and requires reading as a story and not a stimulus.

Aug 2009
Hi there, we have been antipating your return

Aug 2009
Very, very nice. Very, very arousing. Wonderful writing style.

Aug 2009
Delicious!

Aug 2009
great read,short and sweet like a passionate quickie I look forward to your further offerings with anticipation

Aug 2009
Great to hear from you again. Very interesting sgtory. Great sexual encounter. Look forward to hearing more soon.

Aug 2009
I like it. It has a certain...anticipatory element that is softly innocent, yet perverted. A nice mix...sort of like rock salt on choclate.

Aug 2009
Gentle, I still like your writing, a somewhat unusual venue. I like this new place and the pictures are something else. Great story, thanks for letting me read it.

Aug 2009
I think I am anticipating.......Hurry Gentle........chuckle......no, really, this is good. I love it...