Harp Un-strung

“We’ll come here some other time, then?” she asks innocently.

“That’s a great way to ask me out,” I say.

She laughs. “That’s because I know you’re not going to.”

“I’d love to ask you out.”

“Then ask.”

My throat runs dry in an instant.

She giggles. “See what I mean?”

We climb down from the rocks. As I help her down, a sudden impulse takes over. I clear my throat and face her. She looks up at me, waiting for me to go on.

“So, Claire…I was wondering if you’d like to, you know, go out on a…date?”

She bursts into another fit of giggles. I feel an embarrassing blush creep over my ears and cheeks.

“What are you so afraid of?” she asks. “You’re so confident, but balk at the prospect of asking a girl out on a date.”

“I guess I need some more practice,” I reply cheekily. “So?”

She steps closer, wraps her arm around my neck and pulls me until our faces are millimeters apart. Up this close in the dark, her soft grey eyes are spellbinding, determined, yet scared. As her lips inch close, the realization strikes.

She’s going to kiss me.

CLAIRE is going to kiss ME!

Before I know it, our lips meet, soft and hesitant. On an instinct, I pull her closer against me, mashing our lips together. I lose myself in that soft, warm feeling. Pulling gently at her lower lip, I suck on it. She moans, winding her fingers in my hair and pulling me in for a deeper kiss.

My hands, with a will of their own, roam over her back. I sigh contently as her body rubs gently against mine, her breasts soft against my chest and the warm scent of her perfume infusing my senses.

It feels so perfect, so beautiful, so…right.

Unfortunately, the kiss goes on for so long that I never notice my lungs begging for precious air. We part reluctantly, our lips producing a soft ‘pop’ as they separate. She buries her face in my chest.

“How’s that for a yes?” she asks.

“Wow.”

We just hold each other, basking in the warmth and quiet companionship.

“So, that’s what it’s like to kiss someone,” she says after some time.

“I…it was a first for me too.”

She looks up at me and smiles. “We’re on the same boat, then.”

~ Harp Un-Strung ~

We kiss for a good fifteen minutes, each round growing more fierce and desperate than the last.

It’s good, but it’s not enough.

I want more.

“We’re getting late,” he whispers again reluctantly. “My aunt will raise hell if she finds about my nocturnal activities.”

“Let’s go to your house then.”

He gulps. “Are you sure?”

“Well, someone wants to play,” I tease, running a hand lightly over the obvious bulge in his jeans. He lurches back from the illicit contact.

“You’re such a doofus,” I laugh.

He regains his composure very quickly. “Okay, call someone from your house and say that you’re staying over and…whatever else you see fit.”

I’m already done texting a message before he can complete his words. I grab his hand and race towards his car.

“C’mon, I need a closer inspection of your goodies.”

The drive back to his house is full of anticipation. As if time has slowed down, making the short journey incredibly torturous. We kiss some more during the red signals, not even realizing when it turns green until a driver honks angrily behind us.

He opens his garage doors long before we’re in sight of the house and parks the car with squealing tires. I don’t know how we navigated through the house, but we somehow end up on his bed in a tangled heap of intertwined arms and legs. My hands are everywhere at once, as if it’s the end of the world with far too little time to spend.

“I have a crazy idea,” I say, pulling back from the kiss.

“What?”

“Let’s go to the roof.”

He grins.

“I like the way you think.”

We rush up the stairs, careful not to make much noise. He settles the blankets and pillows on the roof. I push him onto his back as soon as he’s done.

“Easy,” he says, but I swallow his next words with a kiss.

I’ve never felt so…wanton, so eager for someone’s touch. As if a dam broke somewhere inside me, carrying me away with its tide. It’s the one thing that I’ll never regret doing in my life.

He rolls over on top of me and holds my hands above my head, controlling me effectively. Just like last time.

“Slow down, we’re not going anywhere,” he says, grinning down at me. I try to think up an excuse, but I realize he’s right. We’re both panting like dogs in heat.

“Nice and slow,” he says and buries his head in the crook of my neck, sending tingles of shock as he nuzzles my skin.

His warm body is a comfortable weight atop mine. I wrap my legs around his hips and hold him closer to me, sighing in contentment as he kisses my neck and shoulders. My heart feels full, almost to the point of bursting out of my chest with sheer joy.

He kisses my cheek, my jaw and descends down to my throat. A startled gasp escapes me when he kisses a particularly sensitive region. His lips quirk into a devilish grin as he spends more time on that place, licking and nibbling and eliciting small gasps from me. He nibbles my neckline as his fingers search for the zip.

My heart jumps when he finds it, holds it and pulls it down slowly. The sound, instead of arousal, brings panic.

He stops.

Holding my chin, he makes me look up at him. His eyes are sincere, full of love and understanding.

“You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen, Claire,” he says simply, and just like that, a sense of peace and calm replaces the panic. He leans down and kisses me once more, our lips molding with each other’s.

“If anything makes you uncomfortable, tell me, and I’ll stop.”

I nod gratefully. He pulls the zip down to my waist. Threading a finger to each of the straps holding my dress, he pushes it aside and brings it down to my waist. His eyes remain glued to my skin, revealed inch by inch, as a piece of my dignity is carefully pried apart. I raise my hips as he pulls the material down to my legs. I’m out of it, finally, clad only in my bra and panties.

I wonder if anyone could see us on the roof, with me scantily clad in my underwear. Maybe doing it in such a romantic setting was a bad idea.

“No one can see us,” he says, reading my thoughts. “It’s just you and me.”

Just me and Mike.

It sounds like music to my ears.

He draws another lingering kiss from my lips and then kisses my sternum, down to my cleavage. I’m only a girl with a modest cup size, but his enthusiasm gives me a gigantic ego boost, elating my feelings to new heights.

He reaches behind my back and unhooks my bra…or tries his best to. I giggle uncontrollably as he fumbles with it and curses under his breath.

“I hate this thing,” he says, mock-anger in his voice.

“Maybe you need some more practice.” I smile and reach behind myself, unhooking the bra and holding the cups with one hand.

He watches me with barely contained lust. I feel like a virgin deflowered by the meanest wolf around. The panic begins to resurface, but a sudden kiss on my lips surprises me, making me open my eyes. I didn’t even realize that I had closed them out of fear.

“I wish I could tell you how beautiful you are to me, Claire,” he says, a faint smile on his lips. “You don’t have anything to hide.”

I smile. “You always know the right thing to say, don’t you?”

“Yes, I think…” he trails off as I let the bra fall.

My breasts, though not the biggest hooters around in school, are well-formed – teardrop shaped topped with light pink areolas and nipples. Many a day I stood in front of the mirror, wishing them to somehow grow bigger. Not today.

“Like what you see?” I ask, even though his expression of sheer awe says it all.

“Love it.”

His warm hands make my breath catch as they caress the sensitive underside, hefting my breasts and worshipping them slowly. My insides clench with pleasure as he rubs my hardened nubs, rubbing and rolling them over. His touch, so foreign, make my nerves tingle with an electric shock as he gently lowers his head and takes one of my pink nubs inside his hot mouth.

“Oh,” I gasp, as his wet tongue flicks over my flesh.

My eyelids shut down as I take in the sensory overload of two nipples being stimulated simultaneously. I never noticed his other hand moving down onto the crotch of my panties. I jerk as his tentative fingers rub my slit through my moist panties.

It’s only a matter of a few moments before a small wave of contractions grip my body in its throes of orgasm. Everything falls apart and I clamp my thighs close, nearly crushing his hand.

I barely hear his grunt of pain as I familiarize myself with the foreign feelings coursing through my veins, stimulating me to a limit far beyond my imagination. Slowly, the muscles of my legs relax and Mike pries his hands away.

He lies down beside me, draping an arm over me, embracing me sideways, as I thank the stars above.

I just don’t know what for.

“You look adorable with your eyes shut.”

“Really?” I ask. It feels like an out-of-the-body experience for me, as if someone else had asked it.

He laughs softly. “Having my hand crushed for that cute scrunched up face was definitely worth it.”

“I’m so sorry,” I apologize, reaching for his hand.

“It’s the other one,” he says, amused. I reach for it, but he holds it away. “It’s alright, Claire. You didn’t break any bones.”

As we lie there, doing nothing and basking in the comfortable silence of the twinkling stars, a realization hits me.

“Hey, how come I’m the only one naked?” I ask.

He grins as I get up and straddle him. I open his buttons one by one, following each with the softest kiss. After I throw the offending piece of clothing away, I start kissing back again from his neck, biting particularly hard at a spot near the junction where his throat met his chest.

“Ouch,” he yelps.

That bite will bruise proudly on his neck for everyone to see.

“I’ll have a hard time explaining that to people,” he says.

“I’m marking my territory,” I say a little more harshly than I had intended. I don’t know why, but something about this reminded me of that loser, Jim.

"Always yours, Ma'am," he replies sincerely, taking my hand and kissing it softly.

The reply was a bit corny, but it’ll do nicely for me. I respond with a sweet kiss to his cheek.

I unbuckle the belt and pull his jeans and shorts down his legs at one go before he can protest. His cock jumps up, freed at last. I hold the warm throbbing flesh with my hand, marveling at its warmth and inherent pulsating beat.

Mike looks at me apprehensively. “Look, Claire, you don’t really have to…OH Sweet Jesus!”

The next few words are drowned by his moans of pleasure as I envelope the sensitive head with my mouth and lap it gently with my tongue. I’m no stranger to blowjobs, but I never thought that I’d actually enjoy giving one.

“You were saying?” I ask innocently.

He grunts his denial, and I happily go back to my mission of keeping him in touch with Lord Almighty. I take my time, marveling at the way his thick shaft hardens further inside my mouth. A strange taste invades my senses as his precum oozes out, lubricating him further. I pump him rhythmically, swirling my tongue and sucking over his glans.

“You know what?” he asks mirthfully.

“Hmm?” I hum, sending vibrations straight to his cock. He moans and clutches a handful of blankets as the pleasure scatters his train of thoughts.

I want to giggle, but it’d ruin the effect.

“Masturbating with my hands will never be the s-same.”

This time, I have to pause and laugh. The little remaining tension in my gut dissipates as we laugh together.

I dive straight back to my homework after that. His hands reach for my hair as his back arches off the makeshift bed. The head of his cock hits the back of my throat, and I gag. Thankfully, it doesn’t last long and he pulls back, letting me take control once more.

“Claire, I’m going to cum,” he gasps after a minute.

I look into his eyes and renew my efforts, watching his eyes lose focus and then roll back as he ejaculates inside my mouth. The first spurt hits the back of my throat, and I swallow it quickly, making sure not to let it leak over and make a mess.

Mike tastes somewhat like peach, a sweet-salty peach at that. My instant reflex was to spit it out, but I bear it quietly, knowing that I do this for him. He calms down after a few moments, and shudders sporadically as I lick him clean. His semi-limp manhood pops out of my mouth apparently satisfied for the moment.

He hooks his hands under my pits and drags me upward until I’m lying on top of him. I half-squeal in fear but calm down as my common sense takes over. He kisses me hard, possessiveness evident through the act, like never before.

“Thank you,” he whispers.

“Thank you too,” I whisper back.

He catches his breath, while I acquaint myself with the turn of events. Never in my wildest dreams did I even think about having sex with Mike, on a rooftop at that. It seemed like such a foreign idea. Now?

Well, our compromising position speaks for itself.

The sensitivity has waned somewhat, renewed slightly by the friction as my nipples rub against his chest. I feel him with my hands, slowly this time, wondering if it’s a dream.

“I’m real, Claire,” he says, “Everything is happening for real.”

“Will you regret it in the morning?” I ask quietly.

I don’t know why, but my insecurities always crop up as mood spoilers just when I feel most vulnerable.

“Never,” he says without hesitating, “tomorrow morning or the next ones after that.”

I just hold him tight, afraid to think what would happen if he ever chose to leave me. It would be too much to bear.

Mike kisses me again, his touch gentle and reassuring. He rubs my nipple and pinches it, sending a sudden jolt to my senses. He leaves behind a trail of wet kisses as his lips trace a path from my lips to my shoulders and down to my breasts. Ample attention is given to my nipples again, this time more roughly. He suckles on one nipple, and then bites on the sensitive nub.

Me?

I’m just a wet, shivering mess. I’m damn sure that my panties are thoroughly soaked with my juices.

He kisses my stomach. More than a source of arousal, his tongue is ticklish on my skin. I end up serving him an accidental kick.

“I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”

“I’ll live,” he wheezes.

Carefully avoiding my tummy, Mike skips down towards my feet, planting soft smooches all the way. Lingering on my mound, he peels off the last remnant of my clothing, now I’m completely naked. I raise my hips and watch the soggy cloth being carefully ditched to the side with my dress.

Each kiss sends a thrill from my legs to my spine and straight to my head. I nearly faint as I feel his wet lips on my inner thighs. My scent must be overpowering him as he stops just short of my sex.

“Do you want me to kiss down there?”

I nod, afraid that my voice would be too weak for an answer.

“I can’t hear you,” he teases.

“Please kiss me down there,” I beg.

My legs part and I feel a gentle touch of his warm lips on my inner thigh, just an inch away from my pussy. A groan of frustration is all I can manage.

“Not there,” I say.

“Here?” he asks, placing another kiss on my outer lips, millimeters away from my throbbing clit.

“Please kiss it.”

“Kiss what?”

“My pussy,” I say exasperatedly.

He runs a slow tongue on my slit, from the perineum to my clit that’s aching to get out from underneath its hood. He wraps it up with his lips and sucks it gently. My back arches and my thighs close, but he holds them apart.

There’s no escape. The assault is slow but relentless. The pressure builds up as he licks my warm folds, almost exploding as he sucks on my clit like a mini-penis. My legs, held wantonly apart by him are of no use so I use my hands instead, clawing at the soft sheets and grabbing fistfuls of his hair.

I explode when he firmly wedges his tongue inside me and explores. Breathing is a foreign idea, as is seeing. It’s not a tidal wave, but a storm that sweeps away everything in its path. My cry is hoarse, deep throated and guttural as the joyous feelings course through my veins.

Another storm sweeps, unexpected and sudden, as he reaches up and pinches my nipples rhythmically, suckling on my clit hungrily at the same time.

My thighs clamp shut on his head, my hands on his trying to stop and augment his touch at the same time. I take a deep breath and cry out in joy, uncaring of the judgmental world that would hear me.

My vision darkens around the edges, and soon, I see nothing but blackness.

~ Never Alone ~

I could stay here like this for the rest of my life – between her legs, tasting her sweet cream and hearing her sweet moans of pleasure.

I could go on forever.

My ears are shut out by her thighs, so all I can feel are the vibrations that travel from her chest. I close my mouth on her sex and suckle to my heart’s abandon, reveling in the touch of the silky smoothness of her nether lips and the sweet juice that flows through it. It is glorious.

Soon enough, her thighs lose their strength and they rest lazily on my shoulders. I lick some more, feeling her quiver with each stroke of my tongue.

“Stop,” she says.

“Don’t you like it?” I ask, sucking her clit to emphasize my point.

She groans and pulls away. “It gets sensitive.”

“Oh.”

I sit up, kneeling between her legs. With her hair askew and skin visibly flushed, she looks magnificent. Lying by her side again, I hold her close, feeling her breathing slow down to normalcy. I feel happy and proud of myself. I’m the one who did this to her, after all.

“Where did you learn to do this?” she asks, amazed.

I grin.

“Secrets.”

"Here!" Daniel said as he dumped a freakishly thick book on my desk.

"Master Daniel's Guide to a Woman's Body," I read the title out loud, incredulous, then looked up at him. "Master Daniel? When did you get the time to print pieces of crap?"

"Oi! It's not a piece of crap." He held up the book with an expression of sheer reverence. "This is my gift, in advance, for your birthday."

As I said, Dan is smart, but sometimes he takes it a bit too far.

"I don't get it."

He slapped his head in dismay.

"You are going out on a date with Claire."

"Sooo…?”

"You are in the ‘Friends' zone of her brain. Nothing more than a male acquaintance she can freely talk to without getting hit upon, you get my drift?" He starts pacing back and forth. "If SHE has asked you out for a date, then I believe the day is not far away when she wants to take things a step further. The last thing I want you to do is to perform a two-second squirt and go your different ways singing Sayonara.

I grudgingly admitted that he was absolutely right.

"Just read it. You won't regret it, I promise.”

As I look down at Claire's naked form I mentally thank my cousin for his far-sightedness. Her pale body is flushed pink from her exertions and she is stroking my shaft lazily. Mike Junior is quite the trooper, responding to the call of duty.

“Well?” I ask. “Now what?”

“That’s a rhetorical question.”

“I’m scared,” I admit.

She rolls over, on top of me. “Would you like to know a secret?”

“Gladly.”

“I’m scared too,” she whispers, her breath hot in my ear.

Slowly rising until she straddles me, Claire places her hands on my chest for support as she adjusts her position. She grinds on my cock slowly, just like the last time, lubricating with her juices, preparing it for the inevitable.

“I’m safe. You won’t make me pregnant,” she says, rising and positioning the mushroom tip to her opening, grazing the sensitive head along the entire length of her slit. “Let me do it.”

She doesn’t move as she prepares herself. Taking a deep breath, she plunges down on my length. A barrier resists as my cock pushes against it, and then it gives away. Barely half of my shaft is inside when she stops. Tears brim in her eyes.