|Blogs > CuriousAries67 > Insights & Observations|
It was her last night in London.
Even though it was December, the evening air was mild. She smiled to herself as she crossed Piccadilly Circus to Shaftsbury Avenue. She was meeting a fellow Yank at six for dinner before hitting a club to see one of her much-loved singer/songwriters perform.
Isn’t it funny, she thought to herself, that one of her favorite bloggers would be in the UK at the same time she was? Quite an interesting place for a first meeting, she mused.
She’d been reading his posts for months now, and they never failed to leave her laughing out loud, no matter what the subject. Delightfully, they had struck up an email and instant message correspondence as well. There she learned that under the outrageous humor was a kind and caring man ‒ one who, like her, had lived through several relationship battles. Although scarred, he seemed to be as much of a cock-eyed optimist as she was. Not one to give up herself, she was pleased to find a like-minded soul with whom to share the war stories and the healing process.
She quickened her pace and reviewed in her mind what she was supposed to look for… a six-foot tall, slender man wearing cargo pants, Hawaiian shirt and a leather bomber jacket. Well, she chuckled, he should stand out. You don’t see many of those in London. I wonder what he’ll be like in person? I wonder if we’ll like the sound of each other’s voices? I wonder what it would be like to run my fingers through that curly, dark hair… Whoa, she thought, that’s a thought for another time and place!
She reached St Giles High Street. She could see The Angel, the pub at which they’d arranged to meet a half a block up. And there he was, standing by the door, watching the passersby attentively. She took a deep breath and approached him.
He turned, smiling and opened his arms.
Well, hello there, he said as he embraced her in a warm hug. Good to meet you at last.
Same here, she replied. Let’s go in and warm up. We’ve got time for a swift pint before Nick goes onstage.
He held the door for her and followed her into the smoky pub. It was an old Victorian pub; complete with the outer “sitting room” for the women and the inner saloon for the men ‒ each with its own separate bar ‒ although nowadays each half was definitely “co-ed”. She found a small table in the corner as he ordered their pints at the bar.
She watched as he approached the table and noticed the heads of several women turning to do the same. Oblivious to the attention, he settled down next to her and raised his glass. Here’s to new friends meeting! She replied with a soft, Cheers and touched her glass to his.
So, tell me about this guy we’re going to see, he said.
Nick’s a fabulous musician. I don’t know which is better ‒ his guitar playing or his lyrics. His style is pretty unique: very powerful and sensual. You’ll just have to see and judge him for yourself.
Nodding in response, he started to chitchat, asking the usual first face-to-face meeting questions, reaffirming answers to questions already asked in their correspondence. Soon the words were flowing between them as their conversation echoed their stream of consciousness. Already, they found themselves finishing each other’s sentences and anticipating each other’s thoughts. She loved his smile and his ready laugh. One pint turned into three and it was time to leave the pub and head for the gig.
They dashed to the club, The Borderline, just around the block. They arrived downstairs as the crowd began to fill in. He made his way back to the bar for a couple more pints of lager. An old pro, she secured a couple of spots just to the left front of the stage.
Alone for the moment, she reflected on the evening. What a terrific guy, she thought. His hug was all that I had imagined, and better. It so funny that he knows as much if not more as I do about Warner Bros. cartoons…
He arrived with their drinks right as Nick took his place in front of the microphone. Placing the glasses on the lip of the stage, he stood behind her and gathered her into his arms as the music began. As the wave of opening chords washed over her, she started swaying to the beat. He loosened his grip to give her room move. His hands rested lightly on her hips.
As Nick played his set, she lost herself in familiar melodies, often joining in when she knew the words. Comfortable in her newfound friend’s embrace, she was completely unaware of the effect her dancing had on him. At least, she was until he leaned down and pressed a kiss onto the curve of her neck. She turned and gazed up into his hazel eyes: mossy green and veiled hunger. He clasped his hands around her waist and bent his head to kiss her. She rose to meet his lips with hers ‒ such a soft, sweet kiss ‒ and one that left little doubt as to the attraction he felt for her.
With a sigh, she turned back toward the stage and nestled back into his arms. She could feel his erection pressing into her backside. She couldn’t resist wiggling her bum, just a little, to tease him and to let him know that she appreciated his attentions. He continued to hold her and moved with her, as the music became a part of their mutual seduction. Desire sparked and kindled, warming her.
By the time the gig ended, she was hot, wet and wanting him. Taking him by the hand, she led him out of the club. They hailed a taxi and made for the cozy bed & breakfast near Paddington Station where she stayed. On the short trip, they whispered their lusty intentions, punctuated by quick kisses.
Once in her room, they eagerly undressed each other. They moved as one toward the narrow bed. Hungry for each other, they tumbled upon the mattress, still tangled in their embrace. Lying side-by-side, he caressed her. The feel of soft, ivory skin inflamed him. Kissing her, he fisted his fingers in her hair. With a gasp, she opened her mouth under his and let the kiss deepen. Their tongues danced as their bodies pressed together.
Panting slightly, she broke the embrace and raised herself above him and smiled. She pushed him flat on the bed. He answered with a smile of his own as she bent her head toward his lips, which she kissed ever so thoroughly. He groaned and reached for her, but she pinned his arms.
She moved to kiss his neck where she could feel his pulse beating swiftly beneath her lips. Still kissing him and holding his arms, she traveled across his collarbone to his nipples. She paused to suck on them, licking them with her tongue. She enjoyed the feeling of them as they firmed between her lips. She released his arms and gently stroked his chest while she bent to nuzzle under his arm. Breathing in his scent, she licked him making him moan.
Teasingly, she rained quick nipping kisses across his chest, down his belly and continued toward the velvety warmth of his penis. She took the length of him in her mouth and slowly pulled him out again, letting her teeth gently graze his shaft.
Just as he reached to stroke her hair, she moved downward and licked his balls. Kissing them, she enjoyed their sweetly salty taste and the heavy musky scent of him. Gently she cupped them in her palm. Kissing, licking, nuzzling, she ventured further down and turned her attention to the silky inside of his thigh, to the back of his knee, to the top of his foot.
Mischievously, she lightly bit his big toe. He yelped with surprise and grabbed her. Tickling her, he wrestled her under him. She could feel the length of his erection pressing into her thigh as he began to administer the same sweet torture upon her.
She sighed as he began to suckle at her breast while caressing its twin. Her pussy hot and wet, she ached to feel him inside her. As if reading her mind, he moved the hand, which had been stroking her tit, between her thighs and parted them. Releasing her nipple from his mouth he pushed himself up on his hands and positioned himself between her thighs.
Open your eyes, he said quietly. Look at me. I want to see your eyes.
She opened her blue eyes and fixed her bright gaze on his. He placed the tip of his penis into her opening. Her eyes widened as he slowly slid into her, filling her. She clenched herself around him. As she held him within her grasp, she reached up to kiss him, sucking his tongue into her mouth. They both groaned as she stroked his tongue with her own.
Leisurely, he began to move, gliding in and out of her like a well-oiled piston. He reached down a hand to finger her clitoris. Her breathing quickened as he stroked her inside and out. She could feel her climax start to build with in her. Oh, he feels divine!
She raised her legs to rest over his shoulders taking him more deeply within her. She whimpered as the sensations mounted, urging him with her hands to move faster. Conscious thought impossible, she cried his name as she shuddered and trembled from the powerful orgasm.
He lowered her legs from his shoulders and gathered her into his arms, careful not to break their connection. He rolled to his side and cuddled her against him. Breathless, she clung to him as she recovered her equilibrium. Feeling him still inside her, she rallied quickly and began to move her hips in a circular motion. Mmmmm he moaned as his member twitched with the new sensation.
Emboldened by his obvious approval, she pushed him back against the mattress and rolled on top of him, her legs outside and alongside his. Extending her arms, she took her body weight onto her hands. She looked down at him and smiled at the dreamy look on his face. She bent to kiss him.
As their lips met, his hands clutched her butt and pressed her pelvis into his. She gasped at the feel of his pubic bone beneath her clit and the head of his penis at her cervix. The sharp stimulation almost brought her to climax again. Though she relished the feeling of him so deeply and firmly inside her, she did not want to cum again so soon.
Kissing him again, she moved her legs so that he could sit up with her in his lap. Wrapping her legs around his waist, he crossed his under her. They hugged one another close and began to rock, smoothly, back and forth. Like a slow dance, they moved to each other’s rhythm as if they’d been doing so for years. Her breasts rubbed gently against his chest. They looked at one another, memorizing each other’s face. Softly, they murmured words of endearment. They kissed each other’s faces tenderly ‒ lips, cheeks, eyebrows, chins, ears, and necks ‒ all explored and savored.
In unspoken agreement, they shifted so that once again, he straddled her. She smiled up at him and nodded at the silent question in his eyes. It was time. He began to move with the sole purpose of sending them both to their peaks. She met each of his thrusts as they climbed. The mounting pleasure had them both gasping. He held her close to him. She could feel his heart racing, matching her own as they soared.
Come with me baby. Come on, darlin’.
Yes, I’m with you.
With a few, final swift strokes, he pushed them both to the top, their cries mingled like an ancient pagan chant as their orgasms burst simultaneously. Exhausted and spent, they fell asleep entwined in each other’s arms as the street outside the window came alive with morning traffic…
12/13/2005 6:37 pm
Yummy tale, I really relished it! Doesn't sound like it was a peccadillo in the least!
I really oughta travel more...
Been a while since they last let me out into polite society. Resurfacing, catching a breath, & catching up.
And while I got my Broad-Brimmed Pimping Hat on, could I cajole all of y'all to Comment on, Alone In A Cloud? It's probably the best thing that I've written!
12/13/2005 8:20 pm
Glad you found the tale tasty.|
12/18/2005 7:18 pm
Yes, Aries, wonderful tale.|
Though, if only you could have described the guitar player's technique in more detail... *smirk* ah well... once a guitar geek, always a guitar geek...
(though names change, the song remains the same...)
12/19/2005 8:22 pm
MBDEX! A visitor by any other name is still most welcome. Nice to see you again. The Nick refered to in the story is Nick Harper, son of English folk-rock musician Roy Harper. I wish I could describe Nick's techniques for you better (never a guitar geek, but a musician nonetheless). I can tell you that he's guaranteed to break at least one string per gig - which he can replace without missing a beat vocally. He has the most interesting habit of using the tuning pegs while he plays. His lyrics are quite bitingly brilliant and often amusing. And, lest I forget entirely, thank you for the compliment. Glad you liked the story. ~ aries|