[aftn] [1994-09-02] Sticky Afternoon [MF, cons, foot]
Sticky Afternoon, by Rajah Dodger <rdodger@hotmail.com>,
Copyright (c) 1994. All rights reserved, except that electronic
not-for-profit reproduction rights only are explicitly granted
with the stipulation that this authorship and permission note
must remain attached.
Word Count: 2503
It was a sticky afternoon, and Karl was tired of waiting for
the bus, tired of looking for work, just plain tired. He tapped
his fingers impatiently against his briefcase as he slouched
against the building in the July heat. He grumbled to himself
from time to time about the short-sightedness of personnel
managers who seemed to want fresh young (read: cheap) applicants
instead of someone who knew the business and could be productive
in only a few hours.
The bus pulled up to the stop with a collection of squeaks
and the raw odor of exhaust. Karl wrinkled his nose as he swung
himself up the metal steps, tossed a few coins in the box and
plopped down in the first available seat. As he did so, his hip
collided with a somewhat attractive-looking matron who was
sitting by the window. Karl apologized, and she accepted his
apology with a brief but winning smile. That smile helped Karl
overcome both his natural reticence and the attitude he had been
building, and they chatted as the bus rattled and bumped its way
out of the downtown traffic.
Her name was Lara, and she lived in one of the older
neighborhoods, one that had been fashionable a decade ago. She
was coming back from grocery shopping and had also been looking
for work, her husband having left for greener pastures "with a
younger filly," she explained. They turned out to have several
things in common other than their generation -- enjoying
miniature golf, going to the theatre, a love of Tony Bennett, and
a hearty dislike for so-called "New Age" music. "It's just Muzak
without the bad reputation," Lara declared. Several times while
they talked, the bus would hit another pothole or swerve to avoid
traffic, throwing them against each other. Each time Karl
apologized, and each time Lara smiled and accepted the apology.
They chatted on as the bus rolled onto the smoother streets
outside the business district, her hip comfortably against his
where she had left it from the last road bump. As the bus drew
near her neighborhood, she invited Karl in for coffee "and maybe
something to eat -- you look famished!" When he asked about the
bus schedule in her neighborhood, she explained that she had her
own car and could give him a ride home; it was just that she
didn't like having to park in the city.
The bus pulled up to the stop, and Karl followed Lara out.
Somehow in the process he wound up carrying her grocery bags for
her. They walked down the sidewalk until they came to a small
Georgian house with crape myrtle and wisteria scenting the air.
"Nice landscaping," Karl commented. "It was one of the things
that I did while we were married" was her response. She unlocked
the door and they went inside. Karl stopped and closed his eyes
to savor the cool air, such a contrast to the heat outside. He
followed her into the kitchen and handed her packages as she put
them away efficiently, her cool hands occasionally brushing
against his.
Lara invited him to look around the house while she fixed
something in the kitchen. He wandered around the living room and
parlor as she puttered around. The house had a slightly musty
odor, not unpleasant, and it reminded him vaguely of the way his
grandparents' house had smelled years ago. While he was looking
over her bookshelves, Lara wandered into the parlor carrying a
tray with a couple of plates and glasses, which she put down
efficiently on an end table. They were cucumber sandwiches, with
a hint of dill in the cream cheese, and very good. He washed his
down with a cold iced tea.
Lara slipped out of her heels as they ate, and noted the way
his eyes dipped to her feet and back. She got a warm feeling,
one she hadn't had in quite some time, and rubbed her feet
together as they talked about city life, taxes, and traffic. She
could tell he was interested in her, but he seemed to keep
holding himself back from doing or saying anything. Finally,
she decided she was going to have to make the first move. She
crossed her legs, swinging her right foot near him on the sofa.
"The only problem with doing so much walking," she said, changing
the subject, "is that my feet do ache at the end of the day." She
waited to see what his response would be.
Karl looked at her foot, and his eyes drew a line up her
calf to the point where her leg disappeared under her skirt. He
swallowed another bite of his sandwich quickly, and reached out
tentatively, hoping this woman would not take offense. He was
pleased to see her close her eyes and sigh when he took her foot
in his hand and start massaging it, rubbing deeply into the arch
with his thumb. After several minutes he took both hands and
drew her foot up on top of his leg. Lara leaned back a little to
accommodate him, bringing her other foot onto the sofa and
lifting her leg the slightest bit. A flush came over Karl's face
as he caught a glimpse of her upper thighs. She was wearing
knee-highs, and while the foot in his hand was sheathed in nylon
the area beneath her skirt was bare skin. He used his knuckles
on her sole, and separated each toe in turn as he rubbed her
foot. She sighed again, and stretched her leg out so that her
foot was comfortably nestled in his lap. Too comfortably,
perhaps, as Karl felt the stirrings of a desire he hadn't felt in
some time. He extended his reach to rub her calf as well,
reveling in the feel of her musculature under his hands.
Lara sipped her tea as she enjoyed the feel of Karl's hands
on her. She wanted more, and hoped he would continue with her
legs. She suppressed a moue of disappointment when he put her
foot back on the sofa, but it was only to take her other foot and
begin the same delightful massage. She rubbed her free foot
against the side of his leg as he worked. When he moved his
attention to her calf, she rolled her free foot in his lap,
feeling her effect on him directly. "Lara," he said, and looked
in her eyes. "I know," she replied simply, and opened her arms.
Karl leaned toward her and she met him halfway, smooth cotton
shirt crushed against muslin blouse, skirt rucked up carelessly
past her knees. Their lips met and clung, needily, greedily, for
the moment like two sixteen-year-olds. Her hips pressed
comfortably against his, and after a bit, she began to stroke his
back with her fingers.
Her nipples were on fire. She was on fire. She wanted to
feel him against her, around her, within her. She moved against
him, trying to get nearer. He reached down and rubbed her breast
in a circular motion through her clothes, but it wasn't enough.
She pressed against him gently, and as their lips parted she
leaned back to start undoing buttons, quickly but without haste.
He smiled as he saw her freckled chest appear, then her plain
brassiere, her belly. She sat up and turned around to let Karl
pull the blouse off and unhook her bra. Karl slid his hands
around her chest and under the bra cups, fondling her small
globes, jiggling them in his hands, then letting her breasts
slither against his palms as he moved his hands away from her
body taking the bra with them. Her nipples were crinkled in the
cool air. "You're beautiful," he said to her bare back.
Lara turned back to face this stranger, now less stranger
and more something else, and found him removing his own shirt.
She moved forward and was suddenly pressed against him, her naked
breasts hard against the coarse hair of his chest. He rubbed
against her, making low, choked sounds deep in his throat. The
feel of his curly hairs against her breasts was exciting, and she
shivered as he kissed her bare shoulders.
His head lowered and his mouth opened wide and then closed
on her right breast as if he were starving for it. He sucked,
bit, licked, all the while making low throaty sounds. Lara
gasped, her fingers tangling in his hair. She couldn't think. His
mouth still clung to her breast even as he lay back and pulled
her down atop him. He hugged her tight with one arm while the
other palmed her ass through her skirt, his palms running
feverishly up and down her flesh, feeling the textures of her. He
tugged at her skirt and she lifted her hips to ease its removal.
That gone, she lay on top of him, feeling his maleness pressing
against her mound, separated by the thickness of his trousers and
the thin barrier of her panties.
Karl suckled on one breast, then the other, learning the
geography of this strange wonderful new body with his fingers,
stiffly aware of the warmth of her mons lying on top of his
crotch. Surely, he thought, there must be some more genteel,
less clumsy way for two people to remove the barriers between
them. She pulled at his shoulders and he responded to the
nonverbal cue, sitting up with a look of disappointment as Lara
pulled away from him. She smiled, though, and pointed at his
trousers, especially the swollen crotch, then leaned back to
watch as it became obviously his turn to show off.
Karl, mildly embarrassed at being caught with his interest
showing, focused on getting his pants off without incident and
thus missed the sight of Lara sliding her panties over the hump
of her buttocks and down her legs. He looked surprised when he
lifted his head and saw her bare as Venus. Lara lay back in the
sofa, a mischievous smile playing at the corners of her mouth.
She held her left breast in one hand; the other hand covered her
mound, her fingers barely visible in the moist hair. Karl leaned
down to kiss her upper legs, and Lara settled back against the
sofa, spreading her knees and delving both of her hands into the
thick fur of her vulva. She watched Karl's reactions, licking her
lips unconsciously as he proved with his body language that her
age had nothing to do with her desirability. Karl sat up and
stared, openly panting now, as she slowly and carefully slid a
finger down to part her pubic hair. For a moment she held it
back, exposing the soft, sweet treasures inside. Then she dipped
one finger down to her entrance and slid back up to massage her
clitoris.
When Karl made no move, frozen with his mouth open like a
deer caught by headlights, Lara got up and leaned forward to
press her naked body against his and kiss him again. He was
finding it somewhat hard to breathe, torn between wanting to
touch her everywhere and wanting to do something about his own
excitement. He took her hands and pushed them back down to the
sofa by her hips. He leaned forward and down, breathing in her
sweet fragrance. He parted the thick mat of curled hair with his
fingers and touched the tip of his tongue to the area just above
her vagina. Warm fleshy tongue met damp sweet flesh, causing
both lovers to shiver. Softly, slowly, his tongue slid up
between her fleshy labes and outlined the tiny mound of her
clitoris. Around and around he circled, too much perhaps as she
gasped and moaned. He drew back and delved lower, exploring the
entrance and the dipping his tongue into her interior, darting in
and out with quick motions, then sliding a finger in to join the
lingual invasion.
Lara gasped, her fingers tangled in his hair. She couldn't
think. She clutched her ass and pushed her hips upward against
him, inviting him further. His fore and middle fingers touched
her, probed, sank deep. She cried out, the muscles of her
stomach clenching, convulsing as she felt the intruders begin a
fast, jerky rhythm. She wanted him in. Her heart was pounding so
hard she couldn't get her breath. Her hands clutched his
shoulders, her nails bit into his flesh. He sent his mouth back
up to her clitoris. This time he gently sucked the little
button, feeling her start to clench her muscles around his
fingers. She moaned louder now and the movement of her hips
becomes more violent as she pushed against his mouth. She began
to call his name, softly at first, then louder until it was
almost a scream. He stabbed his fingers into her as her entire
body tensed, her face flushed. She dug her hands into the skin
behind his ears and pressed him firmly against her as she shook,
then she released him and he withdrew, resting his cheek against
the inside of her thigh, marveling at the passion buried in this
woman.
"Move." She could barely force the words from her dry
throat. "I want you, not just your fingers." She undulated her
hips against him. Karl moved slowly upward, meeting her lips
with his as he rested his turgid staff in the damp hollow between
her legs. He tweaked a nipple gently as she wriggled beneath
him, stroking his sac and shaft with a cool hand, fingernails
teasing his behind. She moved against him, lifting her legs and
opening wide as she guided him inside. He placed his hands on
either side of her and pressed steadily. First the head popped
in, causing both of them to gasp and pause, then she urged him on
with her hands on his bottom as he sank deeper inside her until
she had him completely in. Karl had to close his eyes from the
sensation. It was incredible. He moved back and then in,
building a rhythm as Lara took her hands away from his buttocks
to play with his rudimentary nipples.
She pulled him down to her and they hugged and kissed as she
rocked her hips. His tongue pressed between her lips and she
squeezed her vagina around him. The motion of her hips around
his shaft almost sent him over the edge, and he said so just as
he felt the explosion forcing its way through him. Karl shut his
eyes and muttered something incomprehensible as the long-
forgotten feeling sent sparks throughout his body. Lara watched
raptly as he swallowed once, twice, three times echoing his
thrusts as he helplessly poured his seed into her body. As he
slowed down, Lara felt herself coming again, this time in slow
waves that rolled over and around her. They stayed locked
together for a while, his flesh hot against hers, just enjoying
the feel of each other in the afterglow.
/end/ 09-02-1994 Rajah Dodger <rdodger@hotmail.com> (c) All
Rights Reserved