What A Nice Evening To Go Nuts
I guess I intentionally drive myself nuts. I think about the things I can’t have, and often crave them more than the ones in my possession. It sometimes gets the best of me.
I met Alison through mutual friends in the winter of my 19th year of life. She was a tad older than I, maybe 6 or 7 months, but not enough to really matter, or hurt my pride. She attended the same college as my best friend, about a half-hour from my home. I saw her a lot, well, often enough for the average person. She never seemed to say the wrong thing when we were around each other, she always had a good idea, and she smelled good. I took a liking to her rather quickly.
Oh, did I mention she was drop dead gorgeous? Well she was. Tall and sensuous in all of the right ways, she had a small sway to her hips; the kind that you hear of but never actually see. She had a smile that seemed to curl at the edges enticing you a little, and the most unfathomable gray eyes. Gray eyes with a touch of green to them that went deeper than could be expected. I think the real thing that beckoned me to her was the fact that she intriged me. I never knew what was coming next.
There was just one problem that kept me from asking her out the first time I saw her — she had a boyfriend.
Some people don’t cross a certain line. Cheating just happened to be my line, hers too. Instead of going out, we became good friends. I still liked her, but I held it in. I knew we couldn’t go out, but I really liked her. It was hard not to. We were close though, telling each other things we couldn’t tell anyone else. It was almost a relationship except for the fact we kept our respective differences.
She and her boyfriend were in a long distance relationship of the worst kind. She wanted to see him, and he wanted to see her, but it rarely happened, a weekend every 3 months or so. It was hell for the both of them.
I never really liked her boyfriend. It seemed to me he was always giving her a slight cold shoulder, saying things that got her a little pissed off when they were on the phone. She sometimes didn’t notice, but I always did. He was disrespecting what I figured to be the best catch of a young woman you could find anywhere. I’d try to tell her, but she never heard it. Things went on like this for quite some time.
I’m a flirt, whether I want to be or not. It must be the Italian in me. I guess I’m good looking. I know I’m tall; 6’5″ with dark blue eyes and short brown hair. I’m pretty buff from working in construction with my father over the years , but I’m no model. Alison and I always seemed to be flirting and laughing and smiling. We had a good connection; she knew I liked her. I think she exploited it a little, teasing me here and there, touching my leg, or keeping a close proximity to me, but all in good fun. Even with all of that, we were always a little nervous around each other, never knowing what to expect.
We were hanging out as usual, on a Saturday night, bordering on Sunday morning. We had been out partying together at the frat houses. Both of us were a little toasty. We wandering about the city in the direction of her apartment, smiling, and basking in the moonlight.
We walked in silence for a bit, just taking in the mid-spring weather. But silence kills me, and I began to talk for no reason.
“It’s a nice evening, huh Ali?”
“Yeah it is. what do are we gonna do?” she replied a few moments later, smiling brightly at me as she always does.
“I have to be home eventually so we can’t do too much.”
She stopped in her tracks and lit up like you seldom see a girl do. “Well I sure as hell am not gonna let you drive anywhere, so why don’t we go watch a movie at my place? The roomie’s gone, so we can make lots of noise, and you’ve got the time, your curfew isn’t for a couple of hours.” This girl must be psychic.
She was right though, I was really in no condition to drive home, so I Immediately accepted her proposal, making her smile again.
The movie was bad — some comedy that wasn’t really funny. Actually their attempts to make us laugh were rather sad. I stepped in to my duty and made the movie funnier by heckling cebeci escort the hell out of it. Less than 30 minutes into the movie, we were rolling with laughter. We were having way too much fun for our own good until I realized I had to go home in a half-hour. Honestly, it was the last thing either of us wanted me to do, so I formed a plan in my now fading drunkenness.
***
“Hello?” the voice on the other end of the line answered.
“Hi mom, it’s Gabe. I know it’s late, and I have to be home in an hour, but we’re in the middle of a movie. Do you think I could just stay here tonight? My chores were done before I left” I made a point to do this, sometimes it helps for them to have no reason to make you come home. “I don’t have to work tomorrow, but I can still make it home on time if you’d like.”
I very seldom pray, but if I were on my knees at that moment, I’d have been a prophet.
“Well since you called, I guess I can let you stay tonight. Just be home tomorrow afternoon. OK, Honey?”
I almost fell. “Thanks mom! See you tomorrow!”
“Goodnight, son. Be good.”
Booya!
Well who would have thought that she would say yes? I sure didn’t. I hung up, plopped back on the couch next to Ali, and after a few moments of celebration between us, the heckling began again.
“Wanna smoke some pot?” This was a risk, but I had “acquired” some at the last frat house from a friend, and I knew she had smoked before, so what was the harm in asking? It wasn’t like I had to go home, and the worst she could say was no.
“Sure” she giggled, “but I haven’t done it in a while, so I’m probably gonna get wasted.”
She winked, but I didn’t pick up on it, to me it was just innocent.
I don’t want to say I was a veteran pothead, but I had done it quite a few times. After a quick lecture on how not to get busted, I rolled a good-sized joint and we went out onto her fire escape — or the balcony as she called it — and puffed away our cares. About half way into it, she started to giggle. I did too. In fact, we were both stoned before we finished the joint, so I butted it. We just stood there for a while, looking at the sky, trying to find the stars above the city, and doing a horrible job, but having fun none the less.
“I hate standing up” I said in a hoarse, dry voice. I think it was from the cottonmouth. I don’t know why I said it; maybe it it was break the forming tension. She was so close, close enough for me to feel the heat from her body, and smell the the levels of perfume and lotion that girls wear. She looked fabulous on this cool evening in a black halter-top, and those leather looking pants, tight and black. When she turned the right way, you could see the outlines of her underwear. Drop dead gorgeous.
“Yeah, me too,” she said after a moment or two, getting ever so much closer. “It’s such a nice night. We should get some chairs and chill on the balcony.” Her voice had gotten softer, almost like a child when they ask questions of the utmost importance.
“Sounds like a plan. Lets do it.”
She smiled when I said the last part, but once again I assumed it to be innocent. We managed to get the motivation to move in the direction of the door, and walked inside.
Who would’ve thought finding chairs would be so hard? It was odd to say the least. We were being quiet for no reason, and giggling as frequently as possible, the lights weren’t on — why I don’t know — and I bumped into Alison, alot, sometimes hitting places I know I shouldn’t have. It was the first time I had touched her in any way other than as a friend. I became like a man possessed, “accidentally” brushing her breast with my arm, she even stopped once, and I “bumped” my hips against her perfect ass, like a dream come true. But it gets better. We finally found the chairs, I grabbed them and turned around and there she was. I don’t know if it was on purpose, but her breasts pressed against my chest, her hips hit my hardness, and we looked each other right in the eyes.
After what seemed like 10 minutes, we both snapped to our senses. She smiled, turned around, walked to the fridge, çukurambar escort grabbed a bottle from it and walked to the fire escape, exclaiming, “Hurry with those chairs, silly.”
My eyes, burning from the pot and the wondrous smell she had, did not move from her ass ’til she was through the doorway. She was turning me on a lot. I was so horny I could have gotten pleasure from a brick wall, but I held off. She had a boyfriend. Sure he was far away, but it still nagged me. I had to tell myself no. I even tried to, but it didn’t work. Finally, after some thought, resolved that if she came onto me first, I’d forget her boyfriend. With my newfound mental prowess, I managed to scramble to the door, chairs in hand, and out to the “balcony” with Alison.
“Thirsty?” she asked.
She took a swig of the bottle and handed it to me. I gratefully accepted and drank some myself — it burned as it went down. Apparently we were drinking again.
We sat and talked for a while, about this and that: the meaning of life, who really created Jell-O, and then about her boyfriend and her relationship with him.
The way she talked, it seemed to me like he criticized her, like he wanted her to be someone she wasn’t. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe her words weren’t making sense to me in my inebriated state, but it didn’t matter. She needed to know she was special, that she was intoxicatingly sensuous and sexy. It needed to be done.
“You know, he’s an ass. I don’t know what could possibly give him an excuse to say things like that.” I blurted. Maybe I overstepped the bounds, but it was too late to take it back, even if I didn’t want to.
“It’s not how you think, he’s… just jealous. I mean, sometimes he brings me down, but I can handle it. It’s not that bad.”
I saw it coming. She started to sob a little, and it made me feel like shit. I had to fix it, I had to tell her what I thought. She shouldn’t have to deal with it.
“Look, you deserve better. You’re gorgeous. There’s nothing wrong with you. Anyone would be more than happy to have you just as you are. Please don’t cry, Ali. I think you’re beautiful, and nothing would make me happier than to take you away from him.” She finally looked up, tears in her eyes. “I mean it, Ali, I really do. You would be the perfect woman for any man. More than perfect for someone like me.”
With the last part of my comment floating in the air, I noticed she stared at me in a way I’d never seen before. Her head a little cocked to the side, with teary eyes that looked directly into mine, lips slightly parted, her light brown hair flowing around each side of her face, she looked so good. At first I didn’t know what I was thinking as I looked at her, right into her eyes. Then I knew. I was going to kiss her, it would make this moment perfect. But as per my new rule, I couldn’t. Almost as an answer to my thoughts, she began to lean towards me, then I towards her, in that pre kiss motion you only see in the movies. Finally our lips met in what had to be the greatest kiss of my life: our tongues intertwining, exploring each other’s mouth. She had to be psychic.
We kissed for a long time, finally coming up for air, both of us breathing hard in unison. I held her hand, and squeezed it. I felt good, though I had a slight feeling of guilt for being part of her cheating, although it was fading fast. Then she did the unexpected. Before I could say a word, she stood up, never letting go of my hand or breaking eye contact, and sat down on my lap. She kissed me again, harder this time.
I responded by returning the kiss, rubbing her back softly, and pulling her closer towards me. Her hands were on my broad shoulders, nails digging in slightly, it was heaven to say the least. The next time we broke for air, I began to kiss her neck softly, starting just at her collarbone and working my way up. I moved my hands down her back, till they rested on the top of her ass, causing her to tilt her head upwards, giving a slight moan.
Encouraged by her moan, I began to get a bit bolder. I kissed around the side of her neck, and up towards her ear, finally reaching ankara escort it. With the tip of my tongue, began to lick the outer edge.
She moaned again this time shaking a little from it. I moved my hands up her back to the knot of her halter top, never stopping my attack on her ear. Grabbing the loose end of the string, I began to slowly untie the knot with no resistance.
She sat back a little to help me get the top off, sliding the strings over her delicate shoulders, then the rest over her head, exposing her perfect breasts.
She reached down and pulled my shirt over my head, dropping it somewhere. She ran her nails all over my chest, driving me wild. I began to kiss her shoulder, working across it with small, soft kisses, ’til I reached the bottom of her throat, then kissing downward the same way, ever so softly. I was driving her nuts, I could tell. Her breathing was getting shallower, and she began to move her hips against mine. I moved my hands down to her hips, resting them there, and continuing the kissing, right down the center of her cleavage, and around the bottom of her breast. I stuck my tongue out and slid it all around the underside below her hard nipple, then around it. Finally, I took her nipple into my mouth, sucking gently and flicking it with my tongue.
“My god….” she cooed, and took in a sharp breath, shaking a little, grinding her hips a little harder against mine. Pure bliss. I moved from one nipple to the other, sucking on each one ’til it was good and hard. My manhood was like a steel bar, begging to break free from my pants. I knew she felt it.
Slowly, she moved her hand down my chest, over my belly, down to the button of my jeans. With a little work, she managed to get it undone, and slid the zipper down slowly. She reached into my boxers and pulled out my rock hard cock, and began to slide her hand up and down it slowly.
“That feels good,” I managed to utter with a dry throat, closing my eyes and enjoying the sensation.
“I know what would feel better,” she said quietly.
She moved her hands down her belly towards the button of her pants, which she undid, then slowly stood up, removed them and her panties in one motion, and stepping out of them.
She looked right into my surprised eyes as she slowly guided my cock into her dripping canal, facing me as I sat on the chair. The head of my rod just parted her swollen lips, and then in a quick motion, I slid into her. She was tight, the walls of her pussy gripping me. We held that position for a second or two, and then she began to ride me slowly, up and down. My hands on her hips lifting her as high as possible, almost to the point of slipping out, then back down as far as she could go and holding her there for a second. We fucked like this for a bit, looking right at each other, until she closed her eyes, bit her lower lip, and threw her head back.
“Oh God! Fuck me faster. Please, Gabe, faster,” she begged in a whisper. I would not listen, forcing her to go as slowly as possible, driving us both nuts. When I began to suck her nipples again, it threw her right over the edge. It began as a low moan, and worked it’s way to near a scream as she came, forcing her to bite my shoulder to keep quiet, still sliding on my cock even with the vise-like grip of her pussy during the her orgasm. I finally began to speed up, Ali bouncing up and down, nails digging into my shoulders, nipples flying past my face.
“I’m gonna cum.” I whispered to her. All of the liquor and pot and the teasing ran through my head, causing me to fuck her at a feverish pace. Then the sensation hit, from the bottom of my toes, slowly working its way up to the top of my head and back down, balls tingling, vision blurring, hoping that the moment will last forever. I never came so hard in all of my life, shooting what seemed like gallons of hot sperm over and over into her hungry shivering body.
We sat there together, her head resting on my shoulder, both of us covered in sweat, our breathing slowing down, my dick slowly shrinking, my arms wrapped around her, holding her close. I had to say something. I had to say all of the things I wanted to tell her.
“Ali…”
“Shhhh,” she butted in, “Don’t say anything. I already know, besides, you don’t have to be home ’til tomorrow afternoon.” She was psychic afterall.
Silently, she climbed off of me, gathered our clothes, and led me by the hand into her bedroom.