by Emma Greer
(08/27/08)

He reached over, cupping her jaw, and pulled her to him. His kiss, intent and focused, opened her mouth and melted her. She pulled away.

"I like you -- but this isn't a good idea."

"We aren't going to have sex." He said it as he leaned in again. He looked at her, naked craving in his eyes as he circled the pad of his thumb against her throat. Still not sure what she was doing in this moment, in this car with this man, she let the kiss run its course and tried to ignore what it was doing to her.

She spoke again, after a shaky breath. "I like you, and we probably shouldn't do this."

He silenced her with a kiss, even deeper than the last. Although she had been drinking during dinner, in that moment she sobered completely.

"No sex, I promise."

"No sex...?"

"My place or yours?" he asked, his lips so close she could feel the heat of them on her cheek.

Without a second thought she said, "Mine."

They huddled on the couch like teenagers, his mouth teasing her nipples through the cotton tank top. He pulled it up and his warm tongue flicked her bare nipple. She began to wonder where this would end. The motto for the evening was "no sex"? She didn't know what that meant, didn't know what that left on the menu.

"See, your nipple likes me." It had turned hard and elongated under his exquisite assault. She undulated beneath him, the warmth between her legs making her uncomfortably aware that she was not going to be good at the 'boundary thing' tonight. Yet he seemed to have very specific ideas about where he was going.

"I bet you could suck your own nipple."

"Why would I do that?" She smiled and arched toward him, "when I have you to do it?"

The rhythm of his hands increased. He tugged harder at her nipple with his lips. She stripped her shirt off over her head.

"What beautiful girls," he said, eyes fixed on her breasts. He squeezed them together, attempting to get both nipples in his mouth at once. Hypnotized by the rhythmic pulse of mouth and hands, she closed her eyes and focused on the sensations.

"I want to look at your ass. You have a great ass." Turning her away from him, he placed his knees between hers and lifted her ass, pushing her shoulders down. As he cupped her ass he covered her back with kisses. He bit one cheek through the fabric of her jeans. She jumped, new nerves firing. Pulling her up, he leaned in, kissing the back of her neck.

Turning her head, she kissed him. "The bed is big and soft. Wanna try there?"

He picked her up in his arms.

"Feed me," he whispered in her ear. Uncertain exactly what he meant, she guessed. She reached down and fingered herself, stroking until her finger was wet -- soaked with her essence. Looking into his eyes she brought her finger and gently touched his lips.

Opening his mouth to receive her finger, he sucked it in. "You taste so good."

"Mmmmm..." A slight smile curved her lips. "What do you want me to do?"

His hand found the back of her thighs. Stroking them, he pulled her further up his body. But she squeezed his hips between her knees and reversed, inching her way down. Kissing him once, a long, devouring kiss, before lowering her head to his chest. Tongue to nipple, tracing circles around it, until her lips caught it. He moaned as she pulled, teasing with her teeth.

"You are such a minx."

He gasped as she turned to his other nipple, laughing, feeling her desire mount, yet guessing that there was no climax in her future. Which was fine. Truth to tell, she got off more on everything that came before the orgasm: Touching, kissing, stroking, licking raised her temperature more than anything else. She would readily trade the final moment of orgasm for hours of this.

His hands played over her legs and ass, one rougher than the other. Good hands, hands that did more than work a keyboard or play with a joy stick all day. They caressed her, igniting nerves, creating sensations she hadn't known she could feel.

"You do have a great ass." He gripped it with both hands.

"You said that before."

"Well, you do!"

"When did you notice?" she asked, pleased. She didn't remember anyone saying that to her before.

"When we first met."

"Yesterday? And that was the first thing you noticed?" she teased, enjoying the feel of his hands on her.

"First your smile, then your ass." He kissed her as a gesture of sincerity, swirling his tongue deep into her, stroking the insides of her mouth. She began to pull away.

"Don't you like frenching?" he asked, disappointed.

"No, just out of practice." She released her tongue to him and he pulled it deep into his mouth. The pleasure was mixed with pain, but she let him devour it again and again.

He rolled them over, moving naked on top of her, his mouth finding hers again. She wrapped her legs around him, feet linked behind his back. He reached down, his fingers exploring every fold of her as he continued the kiss. She rocked in slow rolling waves against his body to see if he would enter her.

"How do you define sex again?" she asked, hoping that this answer was slightly different than before.

"Intercourse."

"What about putting a finger inside me?" She kissed him, reaching up and hooking her finger in his mouth for him to play with.

A tentative search, a gentle push, and then his finger was inside her, sending ripples of pleasure to her toes. She pressed her chest against his and gave herself to the rhythm of fingers, his inside her and hers in his mouth. He kissed her stomach and then her inner thighs, and she gave herself utterly over to him, her body crying out for more. She arched her back and felt his hand pull hard at her bush. His finger thrust deeper inside her. She gasped.

"So warm, so tight." He breathed the words, struggling for control.

And in that moment she wanted nothing more than to have him in her, to feel him deep inside, moving, thrusting with long slow strokes. If he did that, she would cry out for more, beg for an ending, plead for him to take her over the edge into that space where time stops and the world explodes in color.

He withdrew and didn't put his finger inside her again, and as moments ticked by, the fire left her. But his hands caressed, waking up other parts of her, and she realized that a critical moment had passed. He would not go down on her, he would not taste her, he would not come inside her. Reaching down between her legs, she began to stroke herself.

He watched the movement of her fingers. "So beautiful..." he whispered. Her fingers opened the folds of her puss to display the delicate pink of its inmost recesses for him.

She raised herself onto her elbows to watch him watching her. "Wouldn't you like to see yourself inside me?"

"My cock, grinding in and out?"

"Yes."

He didn't move, so she placed her finger inside herself and pulled it out, glistening. She played her wet finger across his lips until he took it in, savoring the taste of her.

"No sex."

"No sex," she agreed, "but wouldn't you like to feel my mouth on your cock?"

He nodded and slid one long finger back into her mouth. She was distracted by the taste and texture of it. Playing her tongue around it, she pulled her lips to the very tip and then slowly sucked his finger back in. Her cheeks hollowed as she sucked, hard. Then, releasing his finger, she played her tongue against the palm of his hand.

"I could," she began, her voice low and throaty, delighting in the feel of his cock against her stomach, "start at the top and gently circle with my tongue, licking around the rim."

She stopped and waited, watching to see what effect her words have. His eyes glazed and a smile tickled the corners of his lips.

"Then short strokes across the fissure, back and forth, again and again. I'd kiss the tip softly, taking you into my mouth."

"So warm," he sighed.

"Yes, warm. And then I'd take you deep into my mouth, so deep that my lips buried in the hair at the base. My hand fondling your balls and dancing down the long nerve that runs between them." As she spoke she moved her hips into his in a slow circular motion. "Then I'd release your cock and lick you from base to tip until a milky pearl appears."

"I'd be ready then?" he moaned.

"Yes, you'd be ready...I'd lick until I spread your milk around the head of your cock and you were slick. Then I'd take you down my throat. And suck. And suck. And suck...until you came."

She watched his face looking for some clue as to what to do next. "Shall I do exactly what I said?"

Without speaking, he arched his back. Straddling him, she reached down to play with his nipples while he considered her proposal.

Gradually, taking his silence for permission, she worked her way down his stomach, kissing and licking. She wanted this, wanted to do this for him. She reached the tip of his cock and began slow wet circles around it with her tongue. He wasn't hard and her ministrations didn't produce the response she'd hoped for.

Gently, she took the head of his cock into her mouth. She expected him to respond -- to grow hard in the warmth of her mouth. But he didn't.

She came up and kissed him softly. "Oral sex. That equals sex?"

He didn't respond for a long moment.

"Yes." He said it with quiet regret. As badly as he wanted this, there was a line he was not willing to cross.

No Sex. She found his gaze and held it with her own. Neither of them moved or spoke.

She reached between them. She wrapped her hand around his cock and squeezed, hard, pulling him toward her. There were many things they could do without having sex.

He raised his head and kissed her, surprised as he absorbed her generosity and understanding.

He took a ragged breath. "Squeeze my balls. Please," he begged. "Please."

She did.

And they began a new dance.

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