Chinese Takeout Ch. 02

"How tall are you?" I was undoing that denim jerkin thing he wore. It looked old. Old and dirty. Like it'd never been washed. Maybe I should take care of that for him when I had a chance.

"Six foot," he said, watching my fingers. His hands moved to rest on my thighs where I sat astride him, resting on my skin just below the hem of my uniform skirt. It felt good to sit astride him, my legs spread wide by the bulk of his body. I liked feeling him between my legs. "And you, you're just perfect."

Really, I wanted to kiss him again. So I did, easing myself forward and down to lie on him. To look down into his eyes. God, I was so small compared to him. But I felt so safe. This time I kissed him, devouring his mouth hungrily, my tongue sliding into his mouth and tasting him, exploring him, finding his tongue and teasing him. His hands stroked the backs of my thighs, his fingertips brushing my inner thighs all the way up to those tight-fitting lycra gym shorts.

"Take them off," he said, between kisses.

"Take what off?" I asked, between kisses.

"Those shorts," he said, just before sucking my tongue into his mouth.

"Okay," I gasped after my mouth lifted from him. A long time later. Neither of us seemed to want to stop. I knew I didn't. But I also wanted to do what he asked me to do.

I sat up. I swung myself off him and stood up and pushed my shorts down and raised one leg, then the other to get rid of them. I knew he could see my panties when I did that. I didn't care. Well, I did. I wanted him to see my panties, boring as they were. I wanted to excite him. Showing myself to him excited me. I was wet. Wet with heated excitement. Wet with anticipation of who knew what.

I stood astride him, then sat down again, seating myself a little lower now, so that I pressed on the visibly bulging length that was restrained by his jeans. I almost squealed at the sensation. Almost. I did tense and shudder as a surge of excitement shivered through me at the touch of his body against mine. I shivered again, feeling that hard bulge pushing upwards against me. I wanted to move, I wanted to move against him, to lie on him, to do something but I didn't know what to do. It didn't really matter though. His hands moved back to rest in my thighs, to slide up under my little skirt all the way to my hips. He held me and then he moved me himself, sliding me against him so that I felt him rub against me along the length of my slit.

His hands moved me backwards and forwards while I shivered and gasped, feeling the roughness of his jeans through my little cotton panties. Panties that were now soaked completely through. I placed my hands on his chest to hold myself up. It wasn't enough. My arms turned to jelly, I toppled forward in slow motion until my head rested on his chest. Everything of me rested on him while his hands continued to move me, no longer on my hips now but on my butt, holding me, cupping my butt, brushing my panties upwards and inwards while his fingers eased down the back my thighs to my inner thighs, to where I was most tender and sensitive.

I lay on him, flushed, panting, helpless under his hands as he caressed me. As he caressed my butt under my skirt. As he moved me. As he moved me upwards until my flushed and excited face looked down on his once more. He smiled up at me and then one hand seized my head and moved me to him. This time it was no delicate gentle kiss. His mouth was hard on mine. Hard and demanding, his tongue possessing my mouth, controlling, taking what he wanted from me. I surrendered so willingly, so eagerly until, both of us breathing hard, our lips reluctantly separated. I looked down at him for a long long moment which ended when he rolled me off him and over onto my back.

On my back on the white sheepskin rug.

Now Keith was looking down at me again. Looking down at me and breathing hard. "God Jay-Lin, I want you so much."

I was breathing hard, my body on fire. Burning. Wanting. Needing. Hot. Hot and wet. I'd never felt like this. Not like this. I wanted more. I wanted to feel more. "Last time," I gasped. "Last Saturday, where you touched me, touch me again."

"Don't tease me, girl," he growled, a growl that scared me, that send little shivers up and down my spine. For a moment, I was afraid. But I wasn't teasing him. I wasn't. I just didn't know what to do.

"I've never," I gasped, "I've never done anything like this ... I don't know what to do."

I didn't. I had no idea. I mean, I was eighteen, I knew the theory. Only, all I'd ever done with guys was kiss them. What we were doing, it was all new to me. I had no idea what I should do. I knew more or less what guys did, I mean, the mechanics were pretty obvious. But the finer details? No, I didn't know anything, I was totally inexperienced. But I knew I wanted him to touch me. There.

"Jesus Jay-Lin." But his eyes were on fire, his face showed his desire. His desire for me. A desire that made me want him even more.

"I don't want to tease you Keith," I gasped, "it's just, I don't know, I never ... you can do whatever you want to me Keith... Just ... just don't hurt me, okay ... Not too much anyhow..." I was scared. Excited and scared. He was so big. Everywhere. And I had no idea what it would be like but I was willing. "I want you to ... I do... please ..."

I did. So much. So very very much.

His expression became less fierce, tender again, no longer scary. Tender and gentle. One finger stroked my cheek. "You do don't you Jay-Lin?"

"Yes," I gasped. "Yes, I do."

Then I did what I'd wanted to do from the first time I'd felt it pushing up against me. I did what I'd been too shy and timid to do before. But now it felt right. I reached down with one hand and I placed it over that long hard bulge in his jeans and I squeezed lightly, feeling that hard length through the denim of his jeans. Feeling his body tighten, seeing the sudden change in his expression, the quick indrawn breath.

"Oh Jesus Jay-Lin, you have no idea what you're doing do you?"

I didn't. I was worried. Had I hurt him? Had I squeezed it too hard? Had I done something wrong?

"What should I do?" I gasped. I wanted to please him. I wanted to do my best to please him.

He stroked my hair. He kissed me. He smiled down at me reassuringly. "It's okay Jay-Lin, really, we're not going to do anything you don't want to do. We're not going to do anything too quickly, just relax. Whatever you want to happen will happen, if you don't want it, it won't happen. Just remember though, you're my girl now Jay-Lin"

"I am? I'm your girl?" Really? I was his girl? He wanted me to be his? I felt as if somebody had given me the sun and the moon and the stars, gift-wrapped.

"You are Jay-Lin... You're mine." He smiled, his face came closer, closer still and then we were kissing again, my mouth wide open to his. I was more than okay with that. I was ecstatic. I was his. I was his girl! He was mine. Keith was mine. Or I was his. Whatever. In that moment, as I realized he'd decided, I'd had a little taste of heaven and I wanted more. More and more and more and more until I had everything. Until I gave him everything.

His mouth lifted from mine. "If you want to be mine," he added. His expression was intent. Serious.

It took me a second to comprehend the question. My mind had turned into a marshmallow. "Oh yes," I breathed. "Yes, I want to be yours Keith." I did. I wanted that more than anything. I looked up into those eyes, looked up at that face, that serious expression. I reached up and I stroked his cheek with one hand, gently, tenderly. "I want that so much Keith, just don't hurt me, okay, I couldn't bear it if you changed your mind."

He smiled, a smile that warmed me and thrilled me through and through. A smile that told me he wanted me as much as I wanted him. "I'd never hurt you babe," he breathed, "never."

I knew he wouldn't when he said it like that. I could almost taste the honesty, the sincerity in his words. In his expression. I knew in that moment that whatever happened, I was safe with Keith, he'd never hurt me, he'd never let me be hurt. Not while I was his. And I knew I was his. And he was mine. He was mine and I wanted to give him more. I knew what more I wanted to give him too. I knew what my dates in the past had wanted. Something I'd never given them, try as they had.

Keith would be given freely what they'd tried for. Tried and failed.

Almost timidly, I reached up and began unbuttoning my white school shirt. He watched my hands, watched my fingers, glanced at my face, glanced back to my fingers as I worked my way down, button by button, my heart fluttering. That last button came undone. I was too shy to open my shirt. He looked down at me. He smiled. His lips came down on mine, he kissed me so tenderly. He kissed me while his fingers brushed my shirt to the side, exposing my plain little white bra.

His lips lifted from mine. He smiled. "Undo it for me."

He didn't have to tell me what to undo. I knew. I lifted myself a little so I could reach beneath myself and unhooked my bra. He kept looking at me as his fingers took that plain little bra and pushed it up. His fingers pushed it up to my armpits, exposing both my breasts to his eyes. I shivered as my breasts were uncovered. I shivered and I looked at him and my heart fluttered wildly. My breasts were so small, small and firm and I hoped so much he'd like them. Maybe they were too small for him. Maybe they weren't what he liked?

"They're gorgeous," he breathed, and the world righted itself again.

I breathed, a breathe I realized I'd been holding only when I exhaled. .

One of his hands very gently cupped one of my breasts, his thumb brushing across one nipple that was already rubbery hard and aching so that I shivered and gasped. His hand on my naked skin felt so good, it felt even better as his hand moved on me, explored my breast, explored both my breasts. When he dipped his head down and used his lips to take possession of one of my nipples, I moaned, arching my back as one of my hands clutched at his head. His tongue played on my breast, moving in little circles, and then he was sucking and tonguing my entire breast and I was shivering and moaning.

His hand moved over the smooth flatness of my tautly muscled stomach, jumped over my skirt and onto one of my legs, his strong fingers spooning the taut muscles along the inside of my thigh. He didn't touch my panties, not then, but for the effect it had on my body he might as well have. My mouth opened wide. I gave a heady moan of pure excitement, shuddering as Keith's fingers teased the inside flesh of my thigh while his mouth sucked at my breast. That first brush of his fingers on a part of me that had always been concealed, that had never been touched, send a sudden flare of unexpectedly intense pleasure and excitement through my inexperienced body.

His fingers slowly moved down my leg, caressing me from the top of my inner thigh to the crook of my knee while his mouth suckled gently at one breast. I did nothing except cling to him, one hand on the top of his head, the other behind his back, breathing hard. The intense arousal his touch inspired in me stunned me, appearing from nowhere as his fingers brushed my inner thigh. I lay there, enthralled by the slow slide of his fingers on my skin, all the way down to my knee. Once there, he hooked a finger against the inside of one white knee sock and tugged it up, as if he had to make sure I was perfectly dressed.

My sock in place, his hand slid upwards until the palm of his hand rested high on my inner thigh, not quite brushing the edge of my panties. It was stimulating and it was exciting but his hand didn't move further. Not then. But I wanted him to touch me. Even while his mouth suckled at my small firm little breasts, alternating with one and then the other, I wanted his hand to touch me where he'd touched me on Saturday. My growing arousal demanded that touch. My excitement, my arousal was building slowly, building with every movement of his mouth on my breasts. With just the touch of his hand where it rested on my inner thigh.

This was a desire, an arousal, such as I'd never imagined. Never experienced. When Ginny had told me how excited she got with her boyfriends, I had never really believed her. Now, with Keith's hand on me, with Keith's mouth on my breast, I believed. It was an arousal that felt very feminine, very strong, very...adult. It was something that a girl like me who'd never had a real boyfriend had never felt before, for me it was new and unique and ... intensely exciting. I'd been wet with excitement before, last Saturday when Keith's hand had touched me there, through my shorts. I'd been wet with excitement thinking about Keith earlier in the week.

Nothing had prepared me for the flooding heat and wetness I was feeling as his hand rested unmoving on my inner thigh. I was liquidly slippery wet and unbearably sensitive. I could feel that growing wetness, feel the material of my thin cotton panties soaked through where they shaped themselves to my body. I could feel a growing and unfamiliar but exciting heat in my sex, a tight wet and demanding heat that was altogether new to me. My hips were twitching now, an involuntary jerking that betrayed my increasingly intense excitement. I wanted his hand. I wanted him to touch me there. I wanted that touch so much.

And I was too timid, too inexperienced, too shy to ask.

It didn't take long for my increasing need to overcome my timidity. And I was timid, I was shy, I was embarrassed. But I wanted so much. In the end, it was impossible to resist. "Keith ... Keith... Touch...me ... please touch me." I was begging. I was pleading. Almost unaudibly, my plea a quiet little gasp but Keith heard. He heard and he knew what I wanted, what I needed, even if I wasn't sure. Even if I had no real idea what I was asking for. His mouth lifted from my breasts, leaving them shining wetly with his saliva, my nipples so swollen and rubbery hard. He looked down into my eyes.

"Please," I gasped again.

He smiled. His hand moved on my inner thigh, sliding up and turning to cup me through my little white cotton panties, cupping me at the juncture of my thighs where I so wanted his touch. Where I so needed his touch. His strong fingers moved, found what they were searching for, pressed firmly against my sex through the wetly-clinging cotton of my panties. I knew he could feel how wet I was. How slippery wet I was. Embarrassment and excitement warred within me, then melded into one.

"Oooohhhhhhh." My voice cried out, a wordless cry of unadulterated excitement in response to the sudden heart-stopping surge of pleasure his touch brought to me. My head arched backwards, my back arched, somehow I tried to spread my legs wider for his hand, I tried to make myself more accessible to his touch, all without any conscious thought. My body knew what to do. I'd never imagined feeling like this, never imagined that it would feel so good to feel a man's fingers on my sex, pressing wetly into me, pressing my panties inwards where I parted with such sensitivity and sensation.

His hand lifted, moved upwards, moving away from where I wanted to feel him touching me. All the way up to rest on my stomach before his fingertips pushed under my panties. Yes! Yes yes yes. I lay there, breathing hard, panting in suspense and trepidation as his fingers slid downwards. I wasn't in suspense for very long. His fingers eased down, eased in between my thighs, brushed me lightly where I was so wet and so sensitive. I cried out as his fingers teased my lips, one finger sliding down between them.

I felt his fingertip part me, part my lips, gently easing between them. I shuddered, my legs twitching wider apart as he gently explored. His mouth lifted from my breasts, he looked down at me now, his eyes looking down into mine, looking at my face, at the expression my face wore.

"So beautiful," he breathed.

The tip of his finger eased into me. I couldn't believe how wet I was. How slippery. How his finger tip pushing into me could feel so exquisitely exciting. I couldn't believe how much I wanted him to touch me like this. I couldn't believe what was happening to me or how much I wanted this. Wanted this with him. With Keith.

"Keith," I gasped as I felt his fingertip push inside me. "Ohhhhh Keith ... Ohhhh ... ohhh."

"Jesus Jay-Lin, you're so wet."

His finger slid up inside me. My fingernails dug in to his shoulders my back arched, breathing hard, feeling his finger inside me. Feeling his finger working higher within me. Higher. Deeper. Stretching me inside. Feeling me inside. Oh god oh god oh god his finger was so thick it felt so good I wanted it I wanted it I wanted it. Sinking back down onto rug, I managed to moan out loud at last, a moan of exquisite surrender as I felt all of his finger inside me. So wet. I was so wet and his finger was so big. Strange and exciting and heart-stopping. His hand on me. His hand inside my panties was cupping me, touching me everywhere between my legs at the same time. So good. It felt so good.

I lay there on my back, shaking. Quivering. Feeling his hand on me. Feeling his finger inside me. Feeling his finger exploring me, moving inside me, easing out a little and then pushing inwards again. That sliding push into me was so exquisitely pleasurable. Such delicious friction. I couldn't help moaning my enjoyment. I had to moan my enjoyment. I had to part my legs further for him, it just felt so right to lie there before him and surrender to him, give him what he wanted, give him me.

"Ohhhh Keith ... Keith..." It felt so good. So very good. I was so wet. Wet and slippery. I could feel myself clasping his finger inside me, feel his finger penetrating me, sliding into me and now it all made sense. It all made sense and it was wonderful and I wanted more. I wanted Keith.

"Jay-Lin." And then his finger was easing from me, his hand withdrawing from inside my panties. Too soon.

"Nnnoooohhhh." I moaned my disappointment as his finger withdrew. I didn't want him to stop. I didn't want his finger not to be in me.

"Noooohhh." I gasped as his hand emerged from under my panties.

He held up his hand between us. I could see his finger, shining. Glistening. Glistening with my wetness. He smiled at me. He smiled and then he traced my lips with that glistening wet fingertip. I lay there shuddering, feeling his fingertip wetting my lips with my own excitement, one after the other. Done, he smiled at me and slowly, very slowly, he slid that glistening finger into his mouth, sucking it all the way in, tasting me on his finger, his eyes smiling at me. I shivered as I watched him. Watched him tasting me. Tasting my wetness. How could he? Oh. My. God.

"Ohhhhhhhhh."

His finger emerged, wet with his saliva now. "You taste delicious."

And then he was kissing me. Kissing me hard. Kissing me possessively. Kissing me as if I was his. As if I belonged to him. Kissing me as his hand plunged down inside my panties once more, kissing as his finger found me and slid inwards, kissing me as I moaned into his mouth, moaned as I felt his finger within me, driving me crazy. Kissing me until we both stopped, short of breath, breathing hard and his finger withdrew from me, his hand abandoned me.

"Saturday," he said. "What time? Where would you like me to pick you up from?"

Neither of us said anything about my parents.

"Here," I gasped, "my parents go to work around eight."

"Nine then," he said. He was breathing hard too. "I'll call you first on your cell, okay."

"Okay," I said.

And then I took his hand, the hand that had been inside my panties. I took that hand and I lifted it to my mouth and I kissed it. I opened my mouth and slid my lips down over the finger that had been inside me and sucked on it. Sucked on it and licked it while I looked up at him. I could still taste myself on him. At least, I thought that was me I could taste. It didn't taste like him anyhow. It was strange, tasting myself on his finger. Strangely exciting. It made my insides twist and tighten.