by Lydia Fay
(07/10/02)
Julianne had a problem. No man could give her an orgasm. Every lover she had fucked would finish long before her, causing her to have female blue balls. It wasn't till she meet Eric that she realized that it wasn't her, the lovers had just been selfish, only trying for their own pleasure. Eric was Australian. She had meet him in a coffeehouse in New York while trying to balance a plate of fruit, another plate full of ham-stuffed chicken, and a large mocha. The steam from the food had been dripping down her arm, warm and gooey. It had blown in her face and had made her all flushed and warm. Suddenly the plate of chicken had been taken out of her hand and the cool air stroked her face, causing her to shiver. She looked up and saw Eric standing there, just looking at her.
"Thanks," Julianne said breathlessly as she tried to recover and look him over as well. Eric was tall, six foot one with black hair that he wore longer than even bikers wore theirs. It gleamed shinily with waves that fell down to his shoulder blades. His eyes were dark brown, like Godiva Chocolate.
He smiled slightly at her thanks and moved over to a table where he silently placed her plate. He pulled out a chair and sat down, stretching out his long jean-clad legs. He turned his head and gave his attention to the people outside. Julianne tenderly put down her fruit and mocha on the table and sat down across from him. He looked over at her and flicked his fingers to indicate that she was supposed to sit next to him. Julianne complied and moved so close to him that she could smell his scent. He smelled of sunlight sweat, of lazy warm Sunday afternoons and lemonade. Eric continued to look out the window as Julianne ate. She loved the taste of the ham and cheese combined with the roasted chicken. She closed her eyes and let the chicken burn softly in her mouth. She felt the whole world in clearer definition when she closed her eyes. The pleasant hum of conversation from the other people, the feel of her clothes....
Wait a minute, she thought as cool air contacted her legs where the feel of her long silk skirt used to be. She started to open her eyes but was stopped by a hand over her eyes. She felt the air warm as Eric leaned over close to her ear.
"Don't," he said. Simply "Don't." But she knew what he meant in that one word. Don't open your eyes, he meant. Don't protest, just relax, sit back, enjoy.
She centered her attention onto that bit of her body where the air kissed her skin. The skirt moved to her knees and stopped. She held her breath in anticipation. A warm large hand traced her ankle. It moved lightly up her leg where it stopped at the knee to explore the contours of the flesh and bone. It continued up, touching the lower thigh, then the upper. Julianne let out a little air in a small gasp as she felt her panties getting really wet. The hand moved upwards and touched the fabric of the panties. It moved slowly to the inner bottom of the panties, lightly brushing knuckles across her pussy. The hand withdrew and Julianne felt disappointment. Was that it?
No. The hand came up and stopped under her nose. She breathed in the salty, sea smell. The scent filled her senses and she thought about what his semen smelled like. It would be similar but different as well. Unique to him, as a man, as Eric.
The hand moved down and traced her lips.
"Lick," he commanded out of the darkness.
Julianne touched his fingers lightly with her tongue. She tasted herself, but she tasted him as well. She moaned softly at the flavors. She couldn't get enough of him. She nibbled at his finger, wanting his penis instead. She took a little bit of skin between her teeth, pulling and licking it. Eric withdrew his finger from her wet, warm, mouth. The finger came back with a hard black blueberry. It slid across her moist lips with the bittersweet taste. When she tried to place it into her mouth, he withdrew it. She could feel his hand moving up her leg again and into her panties. There he moved the blueberry against her pussy and around the edges of her clitoris. Tracing the folds and bumps of her vagina. At the entrance of her pussy he circled the blueberry again. Around and around, he traced till he finally placed his finger and the blueberry into the warm, very wet pussy. He kept his finger there, not moving. Julianne moaned again and pushed her head against the top of her chair. Eric withdrew his finger and moved over the folds of her pussy again. At the top side of her clitoris he pushed down slightly and moved his finger in a circular motion. The streaks of passion mounted through her body with each circle. She begged and pleaded. Moved her body with the motion of his hand, but only in her mind. Outwards she sat still, with her hands clutching the bottom of the chair. One last stroke, she thought and exploded into the orgasm.
She sighed softly and slumped against her seat in total relaxation. She felt Eric's finger move into her soaking pussy and retrieve the equally soaking blueberry. Julianne opened her eyes and stared into Eric's. He brought the blueberry up to his mouth, paused for a moment and smiled at her with satisfaction and then closed his mouth around the blueberry. As he devoured the blueberry, he moaned softly with pleasure. Julianne felt herself getting wet all over again as she imagined the taste of her honeydew combined with the blueberry. She glanced down and saw that her legs were uncovered up to her thighs. She moved the skirt down again where it lightly hit her ankles, moving like his fingers against her skin. When she looked up again, Eric was gone. She did not even know his name, and she wouldn't till their third meeting.
But that is a tale for another night.
