Lisa
Jennie and I walk so close together that our arms keep brushing. I can feel myself getting hard again, but at this point I'm sure the moment has vanished and beginning where we left off will be awkward. And maybe it was too soon. Maybe the interruption was a good thing.
I leave the bag of towels on the front porch. I'll deal with them later. For now, Jennie is here and we're finally alone and whatever she wants to do, I'm hers.
Once inside, she stands in the living room and nervously rubs her arms. She smiles sheepishly.
"Well, that was interesting," she says, but I know what she means. It was a downright painful experience compared to what we could have been doing.
I scratch the back of my head. "Sorry. Mrs. Choi lives alone. Her husband died two years ago..."
"It's fine, Lisa."
I try not to think of what we'd be doing at this moment had we not been interrupted. I try, but I fail, and the bulge in my shorts shows this. Jennie sucks in a deep breath.
One second, things feel awkward. I'm not sure what to do or say or whether we'll pick up where we left off or simply watch a movie or go out for ice cream or something else completely inane. The next second, I'm all over her. My lips, my hands. I'm pushing her against the wall, one hand on her neck and the other on her hip as I kiss and suck and tug and pull her closer and press my body into hers. I'm not sure whether she met me in the middle or if I provoked the entire attack, but she's matching my frenzy, tugging and pulling and yanking my shirt over my head and tossing it to the floor where it lays in an abandoned heap.
Her shirt comes off. She's still wearing her bikini beneath her clothes and with one tug of the string, the top loosens and is easily removed.
She quickly unbuttons her skirt, but I'm anxious to feel. I slide my hands up her thighs and over her hips. They linger beneath the fabric of her skirt, and her bikini bottom creates a barrier between my skin and hers. I tug them both down.
She's naked before me, completely bare and wholly beautiful. And with one swift tug of my short strings, it's suddenly skin against skin. I rub my hands down her back, over the swell of her bottom, and in one sudden movement I hoist her up and against me.
She gasps as her legs lock around my body. I push her against the wall for leverage, kissing her hard, and I can feel the moist heat between her legs as it grazes against my cock. It's so close, and the waiting has left me barely able to stand.
I'm normally a patient person, but not now. I feel like I've wanted this - her - for years and years, and one small interruption isn't enough to drive away the desire. The need.
My lips move to her jaw, her neck, her shoulder. She pants against me, and I know she wants it just as badly, a theory confirmed when she snakes her hand over and around my arm and grabs my cock. She shifts away, seeking space so that she can slide it inside.
"We should go to the bedroom," I pant, but the words are useless. Everything is useless except me and her and this need.
She shakes her head and her own words are breathy and strained. "No, Lisa. I'm tired of waiting."
"But...we need...condom..." I kiss and bite her shoulder between words.
"Do you trust me?"
"God, yes."
