A first time with Nell that never happened

I am prone to kiss with my eyes closed, and the few times I peeked I found her to be doing the same. I had leaned in over her, and was highly aware of the curve of her hips below me and the pressure of her breasts against my chest. What I was most aware of, though, was her mouth, with the skill of her lips and tongue in interacting with mine. I ran my hands slowly up and down her side, occasionally catching and slightly lifting her shirt, then moving on; occasionally placing just a bit more pressure against her breasts as I moved past them. After one such pass of particularly bold half brushing half cupping, she chuckled, placed both of her hands on the side of my face and stated: "we can do better than that."

With a quick movement she pushed me away from leaning over her and back to sitting straight on the bench. In another movement, she was up off the bench, standing facing me and affording me another change to admire her. As I have said, she was tall, and looking at her from this angle, sitting on the bench, only accentuated her long legs. She was wearing brown pants of some kind, probably a poly-cotton mix, which, while not tight, still hugged her hips enough to show her basic shape. She bent over a little and placed a steadying hand on my shoulder, and pulled off first one shoe then another, then both her socks. I could not help but notice as she did this the excellent view of her cleavage her stance afforded looking down the neck of her green longsleeved shirt. Nell's breasts were large, but not overly so; perhaps C cup. Stolen glances at cleavage are a strong aphrodesiac, and a sight not easily given up; it is not surprising that I was throughly indiscreet in my interest in Nell's chest. Her shoes finally off, she laughed, and asked if I'd like a better view. I began to make motions to stand up off the bench but she pushed me back, then kneeled on the bench over me, straddling and half sitting on my legs, facing me. Nell looked at me playfully, her face still a bit flush from our brief liplocking. "Why don't you take a better look at those?" She sat up tall, throwing her chest out and shoulders back, thus putting her breasts, which were now pressed firmly against the fabric of her bra and shirt, only a few inches in front of me and at eye level. She then hooked her hands under the hem of her shirt and with a smooth motion pulled the shirt inside out up and over her head, revealing purple cotton bra containing a beautiful, smooth pair of C cup breasts. She then dropped the shirt on the ground behind the bench, and again pulled her shoulders back, jutting her tits in front of me. Her bra smelled like lavender, or some other sort of potpourri that she must have kept in her underwear drawer. With shoulders still pulled back, she rested her arms on top of my shoulders, pressing in and propping up her breasts. I obligingly reached behind her and undid the clasp on her bra, and her bra instantly loosened a little, providing her breasts with a little breathing room. I slowly and teasingly pulled the bra straps over her shoulders, then along her arms towards me, gradually peeling the bra entirely off. With the article of clothing removed, Nell took her arms off my shoulders, letting her tits fall to her chest, then raised her arms above her head again, pulling her tits up a bit in the process.

I have always preferred C cup breasts for their size: nice and big, but not so big as to be overly floppy or loose. Nell's breasts were unique, in a good way. Though they were quite soft to the touch and seemed to compress easily, almost melting away under a hand, they did not sag. Also strange were Nell's aereolas, which were very wide, probably three inches, and her nipples, which I could barely even make out. I brought my hands up and felt her tits, cupping, raising, separating, rubbing, and squeezing. Nell smiled, closed her eyes, and leaned back a little. After a bit of playing her nipples grew more erect, and I understood why I had never seen her nipping out: though hard and well formed little buds when erect, her nipples were not very big -- to show through a shirt, that shirt would have to be very thin, and she would have to be very aroused (or cold). Still, the sight of her pale, milky breasts with their wide, pink aereolas and small, dark pink nipples stretched out in front of me was more than enough to make up for any other number of "nippings out."

Nell leaned back in, allowing me to plant alternating slow kisses on each of her nipples. As I played my mouth across her breasts, she reached down, and fumbled open the button and zipper on my pants. The thought immediately crossed my mind that I was about to be the receiver of some oral sex. Nell smiled, then undid the button and zipper on her pants. I stopped kissing her breasts, and leaned back against the bench. She placed a hand on my shoulder, and I watched as she slipped the other into her pants. Though I could not see the specifics of what was happening, I could pretty well guess. Nell blushed under my intrigued stare. Still digging in her pants, she dropped her other hand down to my pants, and fished my penis out from against my leg, until it was resting against my stomach, pointing straight up, sticking out past my boxers. Holding the fabric of the boxers out and away from my dick, she took her other hand out of her pants, and wiped her wet fingers against the underside of my dick, smearing a trail of her juices along the bottom. Placing her hands on my shoulders again, she leaned in for another long, hot kiss. Between subsequent urgent kisses, I heard her slip a simple phrase into the momentary breaks between our lips, a phrase repeated more confidently at each utterance: "take me ... take me ... take me."