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From: "Declan Stanley" <declan@declanstanley.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} Alexandra Chapter 2
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Date: Sat, 25 Feb 2006 01:10:02 -0500
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Alexandra Chapter 2

On Friday I arrived about fifteen minutes early and stood on the street
anxiously looking up and down, unsure as to which direction she'd come
from. Under the clock outside Easons bookshop on O'Connell Street is a
popular place to arrange to meet. Firstly it is a well known landmark.
Secondly it is in a fairly busy and public place. And thirdly from the
point of view of anyone waiting there are a number of buses that stop
there, so you can pretend that people are not looking at you wondering
if you have been stood up, and instead convince yourself that they
think that you are just waiting for a bus.

Then just as the clock above me began to chime the half hour I saw her
walking up from the direction of Abbey St. My heart stopped.

She was wearing a blue cardigan with a matching cotton top and long,
flowing skirt, with sandals on her feet. Her long black hair and skirt
were blowing in the breeze and she smiled as she saw me. I fell in love
with her again. She was just so beautiful it took my breath away. And
my heart started pounding in my chest.

"Hi," I said, restraining myself from grabbing her and hugging her off
her feet. "How are you?"

"Hi," she smiled. "I'm fine." She shrugged, "A bit tired from work, but
you don't want me to go into that."

I wanted her to go into everything. I wanted to know how she spent
every minute of every day of her life. But I couldn't tell her that. So
instead I just nodded and smiled.

"So," I gestured with my arm and started to walk towards O'Connell
Bridge. She walked beside me. "There's a French film on in the Screen
cinema that I thought you might like to see." I probably knew the name
of it at the time, but I can't remember what it was now.

She nodded, "That sounds nice."

"Do you mind," I slipped my hand into hers.

"No," she smiled and squeezed it gently.

My heart leapt and my grin became ten feet wide.

"So you had a bad day in work then," I said.

"Yes," she sighed. "My boss gave me this load of stuff the other day,
that he said he didn't want until next week. Then this afternoon he
comes around looking for it. And got really annoyed when I didn't have
it done." She stopped herself and smiled at me, "But then this is our
first date, you don't want me bitching about work."

I just wanted to hear her speak, I didn't care what she talked about.
"Not really," I agreed.

It was a bit early for the film so we went into a pub for a drink
first. I had a vodka, as drinking a pint before going to a film usually
spoils the second half as by that time I'm usually dying to go to the
toilet. She had a rum and coke. We sat by a window and were bathed with
late evening light filtered through the frosted glass. The sounds of
the city traffic could be faintly heard from the outside.

We talked about this and that for a few minutes. I was half turned
towards her with my arm on the back of the seat. She sat close to me
with her legs crossed and her hands hooked over her knee. As we talked
I took hold of her left hand. She smiled at me and squeezed it down
into her lap. We slowly finished our drinks as she caressed my hand in
her lap and I toyed with her hair, rubbing it across her neck and
shoulder.

We stayed a little too long in the pub and when we arrived in the
cinema it was quite full. But we managed to find two seats together in
the middle of a row that was not too near the screen.

"So have you done much writing recently?" she asked as we sat down.

I sat beside her. "No I seem to have a terminal case of writer's
block," I sighed.

"Well I'm sure it'll pass," she looked around the cinema.

"Yeah. But I keep getting itchy fingers, and thinking that I should be
at home doing some work instead of being out enjoying myself," I
explained.

"Well you might get some inspiration tonight," she looked back at me.

I laughed. "Inspiration ! That's the last thing I need. I've got
inspiration coming out my ears. What I need is to get some writing
done. Not an idea for yet another story."

"Surely you need inspiration before you know what story to write," she
said.

"I've got ideas for five novels and about fifteen short stories that
I've haven't written. And probably never will," I replied. "I don't
need any more."

"Oh," she said softly.

"Anyway," I smiled. "Inspiration is supposed to come from inside me, or
from my own observations, not from copying other people's work. You
wouldn't want me to plagiarise now, would you?"

"Of course not," she smiled back.

Yes I used to be that touchy about my writing.

Then the lights dimmed and the audience hushed as the projector sprang
into action.

"Do you mind if I'm assertive," I whispered as I slipped my arm around
her shoulders.

"Please do," she relaxed against me.

Normally when I put my arm around a girl I rest my hand on the outside
of her shoulder, because if you droop your arm over her shoulder your
hand almost inevitably comes to rest on her breast. Which is usually a
bit too forward for a first date. But with Alexandra I found my elbow
came to comfortably rest just past her neck and my hand brushed against
her breast before I knew it. I pulled it away and didn't know what to
do with it for a moment. But Alexandra came to my rescue. She solved my
dilemma by taking my hand in her's, so we were actually holding hands
and being intimate without me grouping her. Then she did something
which I shall always remember. All through the film she ran her other
hand up and down my forearm. Stroking the hairs on my arm and producing
a sensation which made me shake with anticipation.

The film was a French romantic comedy about the director of a yoghurt
company who falls in love with the cleaning lady at his office. She
discovers a plot by one of the managers, who is also having an affair
with the director's wife, to unseat him and take over the company.
There was lots of intrigue, good one liners and even some social
commentary, all rapped up in a fast moving plot, before we got the
happy ending.

All in all it was quite a good film, but it was turned into a
masterpiece because I saw it with my arm around Alexandra.

As we were coming out of the cinema I asked, "So where to now,
Alexandra?"

"I know a nice pub up towards where I live," She waved in more or less
the correct direction. "But I can't remember its name."

"That's OK," I said as I took her hand in mine. "Lets go." And we
walked over to the pedestrian crossing to cross the busy traffic coming
down Pearse Street.

We talked about the movie as we walked towards the pub, but by the time
we reached the gates of Trinity College in College Green we'd both said
how much we'd liked it a good few times and had told each other what
the best bits had been and there was a lull in the conversation.

As we walked up Grafton St. I looked at a clock and realised that it
was five to eleven. The pubs closed at eleven. I pointed this out to
Alexandra.

"Don't worry we'll make it," she started to walk faster.

As we reached the top of Grafton St. and crossed into Stephen's Green I
became more and more anxious. I don't know why, I mean it wouldn't have
been the end of the world if we didn't get a drink.

"So where's this pub then?" I asked knowing that the nearest pubs were
in Wexford St. or Camden St., both of which seemed a long way with only
a few minutes to closing time.

"At the top of Camden St," she replied.

"Hold on," I stopped, and because we were holding hands pulled her to a
stop. "Is it anywhere near Cassidy's?"

"Cassidy's," she smiled. "Yeah, that's the place."

"We'll never make it," I said.

"Well where else can we go?"

"There's got to be somewhere down Grafton St." I searched my memory. "I
know," I turned around and we headed back down towards Davey Byrne's.

We rushed down and managed to get there before the doors closed. I
asked her what she wanted and fought my way to the bar through the
last-orders rush.

I got the drinks and fought my way back out to find Alexandra had found
the one remaining free barstool. As I handed her drink I realised that
with her sitting on the stool I could look her straight in the eye.

I smiled at her.

She smiled back. "Cheers," she raised her drink and took a sip.

I took a sip from mine.

"This is nice," she look around at the décor. "Have you been here
before."

"Once or twice," I said. "I don't often drink in this part of town."

"Oh," she smiled. "And what part of town do you normally drink in."

"Well," I confessed. "It's usually Camden St. after Camera Club
meetings."

We laughed. And as I lent forward I put my hand on her shoulder.

"So when's your last bus?" She sipped her drink.

"Oh don't worry about that," I wondered if that was a gentle hint that
I wouldn't be going back to her place.

I sipped my drink.

"I'll walk you home if you like," I suggested causally.

"OK," she smiled back. "That'd be nice."

And I thought, Hey shit ! She really likes me, then.

I put my foot on the bottom rung of her stool and stroked her hair. As
I turned to take another drink and she ran her fingers across my head.

"Hey, it's soft," she continued to rub my spiky hair.

"Well of course it is," I said, wondering why she would think that my
hair wouldn't be soft.

"I thought that you gelled it or something," she continued, stroking my
hair.

"No," I smiled. "It's all natural. That's just the way it grows."

"And the way you brush it," she moved her hand down onto my face. "Hmm,
you didn't shave tonight."

"Yes I did," the sensation of her hand on my cheek was sending shivers
through my body and they all seemed to be gathering in my balls. "I
shaved before coming out tonight."

"Oh," she said. "It seems so rough."

"I'm just such a 'macho' man," I smiled.

She smiled back. Then realising that we were in a public place she
snatched her hand away and took a sip from her drink.

We talked for another ten or fifteen minutes, but I can't really
remember what we said. All I remember is the irresistible desire she
held for me. There was a huge passion for her building up inside me.

We finished our drinks and left. We were among the first to go after
they stopped serving. I took her hand as we walked back up Grafton St.

"So where do you live?" I asked, wondering if we were going to have to
get a taxi.

"I live in Synge St.," she replied.

"Oh," I said. "Just around the corner from the Camera Club."

"Yes," she smiled. "And my office is in Harcourt St."

"What?" I smiled back. "You only have a five minute walk to work every
day."

"Yes, it's dead convenient," she looked at me.

"It's not some grotty little bedsit, is it?" I asked.

"No it's quite nice," she assured. "I've a very good landlord in this
place."

"You mean you haven't always?" I teased.

"No," she replied. "I've lived in my fair share of grotty bedsits."

"And now you've found a nice place, that's convenient for both work and
the Camera Club, you're going to settle down for a while?" I asked.

"Well yes," she sounded doubtful. "But you do get fed up looking at the
same four walls all the time."

"Oh," I asked. "Are you planning on moving soon?"

"Well, usually I do," she said. "But where I am now is so good I'd have
problems finding another like it for the same price."

We continued talking about the poor quality of affordable accommodation
in Dublin as we walked. I told her about my own experiences and pointed
out that I had found it just as bad when I had lived in London. Then we
reached her house. I thought that she might turn to kiss me good night
and not invite me in. But without a word she opened the door and walked
in. I followed, closing the door behind me. She led the way to the back
of the house to the entrance of her flat.

As you walked in there was a tiny entrance hall, where we hung our
coats. With a door directly ahead that led into the bathroom and a door
to the right that led to the main room. In the main room her bed was
against the right hand wall, a small table and two chairs on the left,
with the kitchen set in an alcove "behind" the bathroom. There was also
a couple of armchairs, some bookcases and a wardrobe crammed in.

"I'll make us some coffee," she headed towards the sink.

I sat on one of the armchairs and asked, "Do you mind if I make myself
more comfortable, by taking off my shoes."

"No," she smiled. "Feel free."

So I did.

She called over. "I won't need to put on a gas mask, will I?"

"No," I laughed. "I spend most of my day with my shoes off so there
isn't time for the smell to build up."

We laughed and there was comfortable silence for a couple of minutes as
the kettle came to a boil.

I looked at her as she moved in the small galley kitchen. The arch of
her arm as she reached up to take two cups from a shelve. The swing of
her hips as she turned to take a jar of coffee from a press. The tilt
of her head as she spooned the coffee into the cups. Her tongue
caressing her upper lip as she was careful not to spill anything.

The kettle clicked off and with a polished grace she poured the water
into the cups and gave each a quick stir. Her back was towards me and I
could see her shoulders shake as she stirred.

She turned and I quickly looked away.

She came over with two steaming cups. "Here you go," she handed one to
me.

"That was quick," I said.

"Yes," she put her's down on the floor. "I got an express kettle a
couple of months back and it's really brilliant."

She sat on the floor with her back against the other armchair and
kicked off her sandals. We sipped coffee and chatted about the films
we'd seen and about photography for a while. She sat back and looked up
at me. I leaned forward with my elbows on my knees and looked down at
her. Then I figured enough polite social interaction had passed.

I put my half finished coffee down beside the leg of my chair where it
wouldn't be in the way. Then slid onto the floor beside her. I gently
took her cup from her and put it beside mine. Then I slipped my left
arm around her shoulders once more. She leaned into me and turned to
kiss. Her lips opened and I pushed my tongue into her mouth. She put
her arms around me and I put my right hand to the back of her head.

We kissed for a while, then I slowly moved my hand down to touch her
left breast. She didn't object, so I gently massaged as we continued to
kiss. A few minutes later we came up for air and I started to unbutton
her cardigan. She smiled as I worked my way down the buttons, then
pushed it open and put my hand back onto her breast.

I could feel the heat of her body through the thin cotton and her
nipple pushing through her bra. She hugged me closer and we started to
kiss again. I could feel her soft breast under my hand, with its nipple
rubbing against my palm. I could taste her as we kissed. Feel my arm
around her, her arms around me, our bodies close. I was in heaven for
the next few minutes.

Then she sat up and moved a couple of feet away from me to take off her
cardigan. I knelt on the floor beside her and put my arms around her
waist. She reached up to my chest and started to unbutton my shirt. She
slipped her hands inside and ran them around my body. I leaned forward
and we kissed. A few minutes later she was nuzzling my right shoulder
and I was licking and kissing her ear. I was feeling decidedly heated
and had developed a serious erection.

Moving back slightly I pulled my shirt out of my jeans and slipped it
off. She sat up, her hands still on me. We smiled at each other. I
started to take off my shirt and she took her hands away. When I'd
pulled it off and tossed it away I noticed that she was looking at me
with a strange expression on her face. I'm not exactly rambo, I know,
but there was enough hormones flowing that it didn't make much
difference.

Putting my arms around her, I leaned close to start kissing again. She
froze for a moment, then her lips opened and her tongue slid out. Her
arms roamed up and down my back and we held each other close. I could
feel the heat of her body as I held her. I could feel her breasts
pressing against me as I hugged her. I could feel her arms on my naked
body.

I pulled back. "So," I whispered. "Does this come off," I ran my hand
along the neck of her top.

She smiled and shook her head, "No."

OK, I thought this is as far as it goes. I was disappointed, but not
overly so. I'd never had sex on a first date before and hadn't really
expected to have it now.

I don't know if she was feeling adventurous, or if she just took pity
at the look of disappointment that must have come across my face, but
she added softly, "But it does pull up."

I looked at her and she smiled.

I said, "Yes?" And smiled back.

"Yes," she replied and pulled it out of the waist band of her skirt and
up to reveal her breasts cupped in their white cotton bra.

I was mesmerised. Slowly I put my finger tips to each breast. They were
so sweet. The skin so soft, yet the flesh firm underneath. I spread my
fingers across them and pressed my palms against her nipples. Then I
pressed down under and gently pushed them up within her bra. I glanced
up at her face. She was beaming at me. So I lent forward and kissed the
soft exposed flesh. I ran my lips and tongue back and across them, then
moved down to the cotton of her bra and kissed the nipples hidden
below.

She shivered in my arms. I hooked my arms around under her top and
moved my mouth up to kiss her. As I opened my mouth her tongue slid
past my lips. Her warm body was pressed against mine. Our tongues
worked in sync. Her hands raced up and down my back. My arms wrapped
around and pulled her close.

Her fingers dug into my back and my face was buried in her hair. With
my lips I could feel the heat of her naked skin neck and shoulder
underneath the tangle of her hair. Her breath was hot and moist on my
ear. We hugged each other as close as we could. The we pulled back to
look at each other.

"So," I ran my hands across her cotton covered breasts. "Does this pull
up as well?" I looked up at her.

She smiled and nodded yes.

"Yes?" I smiled back. And gestured with my hand.

She reached around and unhooked her bra. I ran my finger tips up from
her waist and under her loosened bra to touch her soft, warm breasts.
My fingers circled underneath the firm muscle. I ran my thumbs over her
erect nipples and she sighed. So I pushed her bra up, bent down and
kissed her left nipple. I ran my tongue across it, next my lips, then I
opened my mouth wide and sucked as much as I could inside.

Her hands gripped my head and shoulder and she clenched and unclenched
her fingers as I worked away. I switched from left to right breast and
back again. Using my fingers and tongue and lips in all sorts of
combinations. Then she put her hands onto the front of my shoulders and
pushed me back. I looked up. She smiled at me. Then she pulled down her
top and moved away to sit with her back against the bed.

"So, how far do you want to go?" I asked as I moved beside her and put
my left arm around her shoulders.

"I think you better go now," she whispered.

I kissed her and she responded.

I thought, now don't do anything foolish to spoil it, Kevin. Just take
it slow and gentle. Don't push beyond where she wants to go. I had this
fear that my desire would get the better of me and I'd end up raping
her.

I put my hand up under her top and ran my fingers around her nipple.
She lapped her tongue inside my mouth. Moving my hand down her body I
found her belly button just under the waist of her skirt. I rubbed my
fingers in and around it, but she wasn't very sensitive there.

Our mouths and tongues still intertwined I pulled my hand out from
under her waistband and moved it down to her leg. I felt her thigh
under the thin material of her skirt. And as I ran my hand up and down
I slowly moved from the top to the inside of her thigh. She let her
legs open wider. I brushed my fingers lightly across her crotch and
found that she was very hot.

We were still kissing so I ran my hand back down the inside of her
thigh and started to pull up her skirt. I pulled it up to reveal her
knee and pressing my fingers against her skin pushed it right up to
totally expose her leg and discovered that she was wearing white cotton
panties.

All my attention was focused on her vagina now. I was looking down, so
I know I wasn't kissing her. But I don't know if she was still kissing
me, or if her arms were around me, or what she was doing. I think she
was probably not doing anything.

I put my finger tips onto her warm, damp panties and felt her open lips
beneath. I pressed my finger against them and traced her slit. She
gasped. Taking hold of the edge of her panties I pulled at them, but
there was no give. So I took hold of the top and pulled them down
slightly to loosen them. Then I slipped my fingers into the leg of her
panties and ran them back down and under to touch her directly.

Her lips parted and my finger was inside her. I pushed my finger down
and then back up to find her clitoris. Her mouth was on mine and our
tongues found each other again. I pressed harder. She tilted her head
back I gently chewed her throat. She sat up and turned to face me. My
hand lost its place, so I ran both hands up along her sides to push up
her top and reveal her breasts again.

She leaned forward to kiss me and I cupped both her breasts. Her head
moved in rhythm with my tongue, her body with my hands. Then I slipped
my left hand around to hold her close and bent down so I could work
both hand and mouth on her left breast. She lent forward and I pressed
my hand between her legs again.

I had my back against the bed now, so I just lay back against it as she
started to rub herself against my fingers. I was in a sensual haze. All
my attention was centred on the movement of her clitoris against my
fingers. The smell, the dim lighting, the heat and weight of her
leaning over me was the background against which I rubbed her.

Her rhythm stopped and she tensed and pressed down, her arm across my
throat, as she tilted her head back and moaned.

Then she sat down on her knees in front of me and smiled. I let my hand
drop and relaxed against the bed. I had the strangest feeling. It was a
pleasant sort of contentment, as if I'd come myself, though I hadn't.

She slipped her bra straps off her arms, pulled it from under her top
and tossed onto the bed. "That was the perfect end to a perfect night,"
she glowed. "Thanks, Kevin."

One word stuck in my mind. "End"? What did she mean end? Surely this
was just the beginning? But she was so happy and contented. And it was
such a buzz to have made her so, that I thought, lets not spoil it by
disagreeing. After all I didn't want to appear like I was one of those
guys who were only interested in their own pleasure. Which, by some
strange altruistic twist of logic, I figured I'd be if I asked for it,
even though she'd clearly come first and was showing no intention of
returning the compliment.

It was enough for me to have made her come. It was the first time I'd
made love to a woman and I didn't want to spoil such the event by
ending the night on a sour note. It would have been nice to have
continued and even spent the night with her, but I hadn't even expected
to get that far on the first date and I was more than satisfied. Having
to ask for it would have ruined it.

I wasn't really thinking straight the fact of having made another
person orgasm just blew my mind.

"So you don't want me to spend the night then?" was the most subtle and
diplomatic thing I could think of saying.

"No," she giggled. "Of course not."

But even though I was trilled by having made her come I was still keyed
up and aroused. And having the expectation of coming myself frustrated
was hard to take.

"Come on get up," she pulled my arm roughly. "Up and out, Kevin."

So I had these two conflicting repercussions swimming around in my
mind. On the one had I was over the moon that I'd made her come. On the
other I was feeling dejected, and even rejected, by her not wanting to
return the compliment.

Slowly I got to my feet and picked up my T-shirt. I pulled it on and
she handed me my shirt. I buttoned it up and opened my jeans to tuck it
inside and readjust my underpants, by this time my erection had
returned to normal. I could feel her looking at me, but I didn't look
back. I didn't want to leave, but it was preferable to overstaying my
welcome.

I wanted to ask her if she loved me. But didn't speak. I wanted to ask
her why she didn't want to do more. But didn't want to appear to be
asking for it. I wanted to ask her why I couldn't stay. But it was
enough that she didn't want to sleep with me.

So I pulled on my socks and tied up my shoes.

She was standing against the table as I looked up. I smiled at her and
she smiled back. I walked cross to her and put my arms around her. She
hugged me back and we kissed again. I ran my hands down to her bottom,
gathered up her skirt and slipped my hand inside her panties. We hugged
tightly. Then she pushed back a bit.

I looked at her and she dropped her hand to my crotch and smiled. I
mirrored the gesture.

"Do you want to go again?" my voice was hoarse.

"Oh, no," she took her hand away and stepped back.

"Oh," I replied and could think of nothing else to do but to get my
coat from the end of the bed. As I put it on I asked, "Do you want to
go out again?" I looked around at her, "Like tomorrow or Sunday?"

"Emm," she looked down. "I don't know Kevin."

"If you give me your number I'll phone you," I smiled. The thought of
having to ask for her phone number after we'd had sex appealed to my
sense of irony.

She hesitated, "Tell you what, why don't you give me yours and I'll
phone you."

"477217," I replied.

She turned to the table and scribbled on a pad. "OK," she straightened
up. "I'll give you a call tomorrow."

"Do I get yours?" I asked.

"Well it's very difficult to reach me," she said. "Especially at work."
She paused. "I'm in and out all day long," she added.

"Oh, OK," there wasn't much else I could say.

She opened the door and stepped into the hallway to unlock the door to
her flat.

I walked past and stopped to kiss her.

As we kissed goodnight. I squeezed her left breast with my right hand.
It was a gesture to remind her what I'd just done, and to say I'd be
back. It was also a mark of ownership. To show that I was close enough
to her not to have to ask permission now.

I didn't consciously think that at the time. Then all I knew was that I
was head-over-heels in love with her and that she seemed to love me
back.

As I walked home those two conflicting feelings of elation and
rejection worked their way through my mind. I reasoned that she didn't
want to make love to me because she was shy, she was probably as
inexperienced as I was, but hadn't read as many books nor seen as much
pornography as I had. Anyway the thought of having made her come just
blew my mind. I knew that she must really like me, if not actually love
me, to have gotten so intimate with me.

I got home and climbed straight into bed. The smell and taste and feel
of Alexandra was still with me. And recalling the events of the evening
was as pleasurable as acting them had been, with one important
addition. As I remembered the feel of Alexandra in my arms, my hands
worked my erection. I savoured every little detail of my night with
her. All my passion came back renewed. And when at last I came it
seemed to go on for ever. It was the best masturbation I have ever
done.

Afterwards I fell into a contented and exhausted sleep secure in the
knowledge that the night had been a great start to my relationship with
Alexandra. It was only much later that I realised what a disaster it
really had been.

-------------
Copyright Declan Stanley. All rights reserved
http://www.DeclanStanley.com

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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