A Study in Fragrance Pt. 03

"Yeah. I've seen them, but not up front and personal. And I've never felt one."

She had his jeans undone and he lifted his butt off the chair to let her peel them down. She could see his erection bumping into his boxers, his hair, dark black and thick traveling from under his t-shirt to below the waistband. His smell was strong. She breathed it in, letting it swirl in her head. It was almost too much. "God," she whispered. "So much hair..." She ran her fingertips through it and knocked the heel of her hand against the boxer fabric stretched by the top of his penis. They both jumped.

"Sorry...does that hurt?"

He just looked down and sighed. "You really don't know what you're doing." She could hear that he was starting to believe it. "Either that, or you're the best fucking whore in the whole world."

I deserve that. The words stung, but in a minute he'd see it was for real and that was going to be more embarrassing. "Please, Cos. I'm serious. I've never done anything like this. I want to make it good for you. I want to learn. That's not terrible is it?" She looked back up to see if he could be convinced.

He nodded, his face relaxing for the first time. "Keep going. You're doing fine." His fingers stroked the back of her neck.

She peeled his boxers down and he lifted again. Her hands brushed against his ass cheeks, feeling the skin, warm and sweaty, and more hair. So much hair! And then she pulled the front waistband over the top of his penis and down, exposing him. It was purplish pink, the crown stretched, his hole staring back at her. She hadn't expected so many veins. They stood up like a 3D map, traveling down to where the shaft met his ball sac. It was long. It was so much bigger than she'd expected. Way bigger than her vibe. She swallowed thinking about it entering her. It smelled...like sweat and corn starch and maybe something else. Acrid. The hair enveloped everything, all the way down to the chair where his balls were squashed against the seat.

"Doesn't that hurt?" She pointed to his sac.

"Be really careful with them," he cautioned. "But no, not unless you squeeze them too hard."

She didn't know where, or how, to begin. She moved her fingers up to the crown. It couldn't be like her clit could it? It was sooo huge. He gasped when she stroked lightly across the tight skin, his reaction sparking something in her. She glanced at his face and back to his cock. His eyes were closed and his mouth had dropped open a little bit, his hands had dropped to her shoulders. His cock pulsed. She could see his heart beating in its movements. She moved her fingers down to the shaft, just below the head and pressed in lightly. It was a weird feeling: firm to her pressure, but the skin moved under her fingers. Except where the crown rolled under. The skin there was tight against her knuckles. He exhaled and shifted forward a little.

She ran her fingers down each side of the shaft, pulling the skin slightly while she pressed in. His dick pulsed, hard, jumping away from his body and slipped into her fingers slightly. She wrapped her hand around it and just felt it pulsing; his heart beating. It was hot.

"Fuck, fuck fuck. Shit. Yeah. Just move your hand up and down, not too loose, not too tight. Yeah. Fuck. Yeah. Like that." He hated this part and he loved it. Little kittens, so innocent, so inexperienced. It rarely went well, but the sheer novelty of it made up for the terrible technique.

She glanced up and saw his eyes were still closed, and then looked back to see what effect her hand was having on his penis. It seemed to be swelling, getting more firm in her grasp. His sac was tightening, his balls moving around on the chair. So fucking weird!

"You better find a towel or something." His voice was low, rough. "It's going to make a mess."

The images of girls with cum all over their faces came back to her. That seemed so gross, but it was everywhere, so she thought it must be what people did.

"I'm serious, Emily. I'm going to cum if you keep doing that, and it won't be pretty."

She let go, the air hot and sticky on her palm. His balls were tight in his sac. She rolled back onto her heels and stood up. "I can just use my shirt," she suggested, starting to peel it off.

"It stains." He was whispering, his cock pulsing erratically. "Fuck, fuck fuck...this can't be happening." Let her know how terrible she is at it. How much she has to learn. Get the competitor going in her.

"Let me grab a dish towel."

"Really?" His eyes shot open and she stopped, looking at him. "You want to dry your hands and dishes on a towel that you used to clean up my jiz?" His eyes had widened.

"I don't know!" She looked at him. "I've never seen it. I've never dealt with it. What should I get?"

"A rag. An old rag. I have a ton in the truck, but..." He smiled inside, wishing she'd do it, but hoping she wouldn't.

It would be crazy to go out to the truck like this. Washcloth. Basement. She looked at the doorway and the construction and realized it was a mess and she didn't have shoes on. Washcloth. Upstairs. "Hold on. I've got something." She ran to the front stairs and stopped, detoured to the guest bathroom and opened the cupboard. "Yes!" She grabbed three guest towels. Terrycloth and small, smiling at the thought of guests using these later. She ran back to the kitchen.

Cos's hands were on his thighs, his head leaning back in the chair. She stared at the scene: his arms, thick, powerful. She imagined him holding her, taking her. She had no idea what that would feel like but she wanted it. She wanted to feel him against her. His cock didn't look as stiff as it had.

"I want to take your shirt off. Is that okay?" She didn't wait for an answer, letting the towels drop, slipping her fingers under the t-shirt hem and drawing it up, past his abs, his chest, his arms rising to help. She took it and threw it on the floor, stepping back to look at him. His eyes opened, studying her, his hips moved up and down. She glanced down to see his penis had softened a little, drifting to the left. She wanted to rub herself on his hair, to feel it scratching her skin.

She peeled her shirt back off and slowly knelt down again, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, the chair back against her arms, his thighs, hot and sticky with sweat against her waist. She pulled herself against him, his cock pushed into her ribs, hot, more squishy now, his hair tickling her stomach, her breasts. She slid her way up his body, letting his hair drag against her skin, her nose pressed into his chest, his neck and then his hands came to her head and he pulled her into a kiss. She gasped as he held her, tight, his penis pulsing, she could feel it swelling again, trapped. An upwelling of embarrassment, of shame, flooded through her, driven by the image of being on her knees, naked, and serving him; the tendrils thickened and wrapped themselves around her chest.

His tongue pushed between her lips and she didn't want him to, she wanted him to, he held her head, she pulled her waist away and felt his dick move toward her navel, his tongue pushed between her lips and she tasted the beer and his lunch and her stomach clenched and his cock pushed against her and his hands held her and she realized she was holding her breath and she pushed her lips against his and pushed her tongue against his and she had to pull away.

"Fucckkk," she inhaled, his breath and sweat filling her head. "Fuckkkk, Cos."

His hands were all over her, down her back, onto her butt, pulling her cheeks apart, pulling her tight against his cock. His hair pushed against her chest like sandpaper on her breasts. She's a wildcat kitten. This is new. "You got a rag?" His voice croaked.

She nodded into his neck, smelling him, feeling him. She could do just this. This was enough. But she knew it wasn't even close to enough for him. She felt him pulsing, pushing his erection against her belly.

She pulled back and found a towel, kneeling again. Like I'm praying to his cock. The thought took over her brain. She didn't know where it came from. It scared her. She'd never felt anything like this when she played with herself. It was like her runner's high, but way more intense. She thought about virgin sacrifices, praying to the priests' cocks and reached down to lightly stroke his erection.

"Like before," he whispered, his eyes closed again. "Wrap your fingers around it and stroke it up and down, not too tight, not too loose." His hands were on her shoulders.

The memory of his hair, scratching her breasts, made her want to press into him, but she couldn't figure out how to do both things at the same time.

He grunted approval as she returned her right hand, stroking slowly, studying how the crown darkened and expanded. She held still, her hand just under the ring and squeezed, feeling him squeeze back and shudder.

He cursed softly, bucking his hips up. "Stop teasing me, you slut. Get ready...get ready." Maybe too much. Whatever. Show time...

The word stung, but she focused, watching his balls move along the chair, his sac crinkling and folding in on itself. She had the towel ready and then he pulsed, his muscles contracting up and down his body, a white glob shot out, up and down onto her hand and another. She didn't move her left hand fast enough, the arc moving in her memory as it landed on his thigh with a plop. She unconsciously squeezed his shaft harder and he groaned, lifting his hips, the white goo dribbling across his head and onto her knuckles.

OH MY GOD!She giggled, excited and nervous. She wrinkled her nose at the smell. Yeasty, acrid. She couldn't place it, but it was vaguely familiar. She wiped the towel across her knuckles and along the crown.

"Ouch! Fuck"

She backed off as fast as she could, alarmed. "Sorry!" She looked up at him for forgiveness, feeling so stupid. If that's his "clit", then it literally is a clit on steroids. He put his hand on her arm to hold her still.

"Fuckkkk." He looked down at her. "Tell me you haven't done that before." That actually was sweet! She takes direction well.

She smiled. Proud that she had surprised him, that she had made it good for him. She shook her head, and carefully inspecting her hand and his shaft, dabbed around with the towel to clean him up. Sitting at the bottom of his crown was a dew-drop of cum, and before she could think too much about it she leaned forward and licked it with her tongue.

She sat back, pulling her lips across her teeth, swallowing as fast as she could. It was too intense. How am I supposed to swallow that?!

"What? How?" She sat back, amazed. She had so many questions. She pulled the towel apart and watched the goo stretch and break. It smelled so intense; it made her stomach clench...in a good way. "Do you...did that...was it okay?" She needed to know how much she needed to improve.

He nodded, closing his eyes and leaning his head back. His penis, deflated, curved down and fell toward her, another drop emerging from the hole. She reached forward with the towel and gently dabbed at it, watching his hips jerk slightly.

"Your first hand job," he said to the ceiling. "Nice work." She really doesn't have any experience. It will get better with the right coaching.

She wasn't sure he was convinced she was a novice. It couldn't have been that good...

She saw his balls had rolled forward, his sac loose and thin. He wasn't moving but they were moving on they're own. She sat back on her heels, waiting, watching.

"Okay," he exhaled. "Let's get to work."

"Umm," she rolled up to standing, looking down at him. "I think we have a few details to discuss before we get going, yeah?" She looked around for her clothes but decided it was way too hot to get dressed. Why bother anyway?

He nodded, leaned forward and pulled on his boxers and jeans. He left his shirt off. And here comes the rest of Step 3.

"What have you decided about the door?" He was trying to get back to business.

She sat down and immediately jumped up. "Can I get you something else? Another beer? Iced tea?"

She's good. Daddy's a lawyer, remember. He nodded gratefully. "Iced tea. No more beer til I'm done. The hardware is Sugatsune. At least that's one of the possibilities," he called back to her. "It's pretty cool. Then we need to talk about the materials. You have a couple of choices."

She offered him the iced tea and he walked her through his pencil sketches from a notebook he'd pulled from the counter. It was all pretty straightforward as far as she could tell. Pretty much what they'd discussed the night before. A few minutes in he asked her what she thought about plywood as the covering.

"Versus...what?" She sat back, letting the breeze blow across her body. She could feel the sweat building up below her breasts, the smell of his cum still strong.

"Well, on the closet-facing side there really isn't much choice if you want to keep it hidden." He looked to confirm she still was set on that requirement. "On the inside, I could leave the hardware exposed..."

It sounded faintly like a double-entendre but she couldn't quite come back with anything. "Hmmm....but that wouldn't be very attractive, would it?"

"It depends," he said, scratching his chin. "Some folks like to see the hardware exposed. Others prefer to hide it. I took a closer look at the finishes in there. The floor is pretty amazing. Looks like inlaid maple or walnut or something. We might want to buff it up. I can rent a machine."

She nodded.

"Anyway, the walls are paneled all around, don't know if you saw that yesterday...anyway I could try and match the paneling on the inside of the door. That way it would look hidden from either side."

That wasn't so important to her, but she liked the idea of keeping The Study's appearance as close to the original as possible. And then she realized where this was going. "Okay," she stopped, looking at the sketch and back to his face. "What's it going to cost?" Me. She squeezed her legs together.

He cocked his head and took the pencil from behind his ear. "So, materials-wise, I'm proposing salvage hardwood for the hallway. We decided to paint it, but like I said, it looks good enough to stain if you want to go that way, add molding to cover the edges against the wall, and we'll want to talk about latches, locks and the like. Those can get pricey. And some way to hide those. I have a few ideas there too. Might be off the shelf stuff we can buy. Plywood for the backing, furniture grade and some molding to match the interior, if possible. Paneling for the wainscoting to match. We're still in the $800 range for materials. Like I said, I've got the salvage for most of the hallway side."

She shook her head. Yesterday it was $800 for materials and labor. "And your cost?"

Let her see how much you think she's worth. The job is only a week, but there's an entire summer still. He looked at her, his eyes drifting down, her triangle only barely concealing her lips and back again, stopping at her breasts. "Retail, on the up and up, four days -- another $800. But that's not the arrangement you want, is that right?" If a smile could look wolfish, his fit the description. Parry, thrust. Swordplay? Let's try a little.

He had shifted a little and she didn't take her eyes off his face, smiling thinly. She nodded to his phone. "We just need to get the details worked out so that it's fair to both of us." She didn't move an inch except to take another drink from her iced tea.

Don't ever play poker with her. Daddy's given her some training. "You really think you're ready to do this?" His smile was open, his eyes predatory, but his leg had started bouncing. Yeah. Focus on my tell.

She ignored the leg and sighed. "Did you enjoy that?" She nodded to his waist. "I sure as fuck did. I want to do a lot more of that." And he's going to expect a lot more than that. Her words hid the inner turmoil, her imagination leaping to how he might use her. She stared at his eyes, his expression boring into her, the tendril winding up to her throat.

"$800 is more than I would pay for sex," he kept up the stare. "You ready to be that good?" You have no idea what I'm even talking about. His eyebrow flickered up at the thought.

She smiled. "Let's talk about that, k? I don't like being slut-shamed. I don't see this that way. This," she waved her hands around the table, "this is business. We negotiate a price. We negotiate what each of us wants. That," she pointed to his waistband, "is us having fun and me getting some experience. I'm okay keeping those things separate. Can you?"

Well will you look at that! He smiled, barely admitting her courage. Okay. No slut, no whore. But as long as it's fun. I can make it fun. "Shit, you've got a lot of balls..."

"But as you can see, I don't have any...," she interrupted him.

"I'll grant you that." He laughed at her joke. "No, you certainly don't." His eyes looked down to where she'd spread her legs a little. Nice move, kitten.

She could see a bulge starting again. Holy crap!

"You need the money?" She wanted to give him the out. "I've got the money if you don't want to play." She took a drink and looked away, calling his bluff. She was ready to walk. She needed him to know that.

Hah! As if. She needs this so much she's dripping. "I could use the money, 'course. Who wouldn't?" But he couldn't tear his eyes away from her breasts, flat abs and open lips. "You really a virgin?" Poke poke.

She nodded slightly but didn't say a thing. She didn't blink. Silence. Wait for it.

We're almost home. A couple of loose ends it seems. "What'd you mean back there about recording a different version?"

And we're done. If that wasn't what her dad called a 'buying signal,' nothing was. "Just like I said. I did that to show you good faith. I mean it. But it's a crappy contract. I'm no attorney but it needs a little more beefing up. I'm ready to record the right one today if we can agree on the work."

She took another sip and watched the wheels turn.

He shook his head. "We need to talk about the other one. The other door."

Fuck. Four days and there's more. But she didn't care. She had the whole summer and if he was willing, she'd get her experience. Crash course. Fuck. "Okay," she nodded, "what do you think the other door is going to cost?"

He explained the trickiness of the hardware, and the finishes on the inside to hide the door seams. He was suggesting paneling the closet, he could keep it pretty inexpensive. She was starting to have an out-of-body experience. Like a runner's high, she knew it was from not enough oxygen, or her heart beating too fast, but she kept her expression open and innocent, waiting, watching his leg in her peripheral. This is getting too much...breathe, breathe.

"Another three days, minimum. Say another five, just to be careful, and if I finish earlier I won't charge you." But by then you'll be begging me to fuck you in every hole. Twice. He smiled disarmingly, but he was thinking about spreading her face down on the kitchen table, listening to her beg him to pound his dick into her.

She looked down at the table. "Is that it? Anything else I should know about?" She said it without any malice. Open, honest, sincere.

Oh, if only I could tell you what you're signing up for. But then you'd run away, screaming. "Balls. The size of your balls. I've never seen any chick with balls your size." His look said everything she needed to hear.