Less caution, more grabbing

Scarcely ten minutes later Roland was letting us in through his kitchen door, which he barely got shut before I’d removed my cloak and tossed it on his kitchen table. “Can I—” he began, but I cut him off with a kiss and he wisely shut the fuck up. His lack of experience was evident, but he was doing his best to make up for that by taking attentive direction from me. Together we stumbled into his front room, where I steered us to the sofa, then broke our kiss to pull my shirt off over my head.

“Stop trying to get my permission for everything,” I ordered him, when I straddled his lap and instead of unclasping my bra or pawing my tits he opened his mouth to speak. “The only rule you have right now is, don’t try to put anything in my ass. I’ll tell you if I think of anything else. Other than that, grab anywhere, assume I’m fine with it, and that I have enough prior experience to handle myself.”

We stared at each other a moment, and after a moment he began to laugh, which made me laugh too. “Noted,” he said. “Less caution. More grabbing.”

“See, you’re a quick study,” I said, and bent my head to kiss him again. With me distracting him thusly, it took him a couple of tries to get my bra undone, but once he did and my tits bounced free, more of his instinct seemed to kick in. He broke our kiss to shed his own shirt, then bent his head and began doing something to my tits with his tongue that felt pretty good. After my weeks-long drought, a few minutes of that was turning my insides to jelly, so I slid off his lap to the floor and began unfastening his trousers. He helped me pull them down, lifting his hips to make it easier, and I did the rest, getting them down his legs and tossing them aside.

“You have a pretty good-looking cock for somebody who acts so modest,” I said, when I had it in my fist, and began lashing my tongue over it. It was a little adorable, how unaccustomed he apparently was to such treatment, and it made me want to show off for him. I straightened my shoulders to better position my breasts for his visual enjoyment, and more if he felt any inclination, then proceeded through a series of all my best moves, cupping his balls throughout, and enjoying his little groans of pleasure.

“Can we—” he said, then broke off, closing his eyes against my onslaught, and reopening them when I stopped to see what he wanted. “I wouldn’t mind if we finished together,” he said a bit shyly, as if worried my cocksucking sensibilities were delicate enough to get offended by that.

I held his gaze while I pulled my leggings off and discarded my underwear, then stood naked and straddled him. “Is this what you had in mind?” I asked.

“Something like that, yeah,” he said, setting his hands on my hips as I lowered myself onto him, still looking a bit amazed that any of this was even happening. After a couple of strokes had established a rhythm for us, he reached between my legs, trying uncertainly to locate the right spot, and I reached down to show him where to touch me. Inexpert as he was, this still felt reasonably good—and I was worked up enough—and he was letting me have all the control—unlike some men who felt so obliged to take charge that they made it near-impossible for me to finish. So after a few minutes of this, and a little concentration, I crossed into my climax and collapsed against him, panting. Before I was quite all the way through my own finish, he groaned aloud and thrust upward into me, hard, almost lifting me off his lap.

A couple of minutes later, we separated and took turns cleaning up in the water closet off his kitchen, while I tried to decide how I felt about this encounter and what I should say when asked about it, because he was probably going to ask, and it was important to be careful when talking to a man after a sexual encounter that was most accurately described by words like, mostly fine, or not too bad, considering. Such discussion must be carefully calibrated to one’s desired outcome.

Which was—what exactly was my desired outcome? His sexual instincts were, all-right-ish. The novelty of a new partner was its own thrill, but if that wore off and nothing else changed, he was not a particularly interesting lay, exactly. Though, he had tried, if a bit clumsily. He seemed open to instruction. And, not my best ever, but I had managed to finish. Not all my partners could make that claim. It wasn’t like he had anything to feel embarrassed about.

It wasn’t clear to me why exactly I was even debating this with myself, when this encounter was absolutely the type of experience I would typically conclude by damning him with faint praise, reminding him that I was a one-time-gal who didn’t do relationships, and staying scarce for a while from wherever I had met him.

But the conversation hadn’t been bad—certainly more interesting than the last few people I’d bedded. Most of them I’d wound up more or less cutting the discussion short so we could skip to the fucking. I couldn’t make up my mind why I was so **** to simply walk away from Roland, and by the time I’d reached this point in my meanderings and he came back in just his trousers, I was mostly dressed, pulling on my boots.

“Hey,” I said, smiling for him. “Don’t be annoyed, but I have stuff tomorrow and I never sleep well at other people’s places. I had fun tonight.”

He smiled back. “Can I ask—blame me not being used to this kind of thing—is this a letting-him-down-gently ‘fun tonight,’ or an open-to-seeing-him-again ‘fun tonight?’”

“See, you have to treat it like a continuum,” I explained. “It’s pretty well never an either-or thing. You’re closer to the second end of the scale than the first, though.”

“Thanks for being honest about that,” he said.

I shrugged. “Thanks for not being pissy about me not having a completely solid answer for you on the basis of knowing you only three hours.”

“Quite fair,” he said. “I had fun tonight, too. It was nice talking to somebody who doesn’t think my occupation is fucked up or creepy.”

“Oh, oh, I didn’t mean to make you think that,” I rushed to correct him, affecting chagrin, “I mean, it is fucked up and creepy. It’s just that I’m also fucked up and creepy, so.” I finished with my boots and stood up.

He laughed. “It was also nice talking to somebody funny. Even if we never do this again, this was good.”

Impulsively I moved up to kiss him. “In fairness I want to tell you that I’ve been sorting out some other stuff in my life lately—so I'm not going to promise anything when I’m in this place of trying to decide what direction I want to take certain things that have absolutely fuckall to do with you,” I said.

“I remember,” he said. “You said no relationships. So I assumed if we got together again, we’d keep it casual like this time. I—well, it’s not like I couldn’t use the practice.” He offered a rueful little shrug that made me smile and chuck him gently under the chin.

“Yeah. All right. Thanks for respecting that, by the way, instead of taking it as some personal gauntlet to overcome and wrongly assuming I’ll think it’s romantic to press the issue, when it’s really just incredibly uncomfortable.”

He shrugged. “I try to take people at their word when they make a point to tell me something.”

“Well. I just wanted to explain that anyway, because I liked our evening, and I didn’t want you to make anything of it if we don’t wind up doing this again because I’m being too self-absorbed to deal with anybody but myself.”

“I’ll be all right if that happens,” he said, then seemed to hesitate as I moved toward the door. When I picked up my cloak he asked, “Hey… can I kiss you again?”

“Sure.” He was more confident this time, deepening the kiss right away and slipping his hands up my back, gently stroking my neck and collarbone, tracing his fingers up to touch my earlobe. It lasted a few seconds longer than I expected, leaving me a bit breathless and half-inclined to take him back to the settee and give him a second audition—except, it was getting kind of late, and I was a bit tired, and if I stayed longer he might want me to sleep here after all—

I broke the kiss, smiling, and gently extracted myself. “See you around.”

He returned my smile. “See you.”

===

I was all the way home and getting undressed for bed, when per recent habit I reached to touch Curry’s Ravanite rook pendant on its chain, and realized I had lost it somewhere.