Pretty Petals

Yvette Black gave me the second of our kisses for the evening.

The first had been at the end at the tail end of a very nice, impromptu date. Yvette and I weren't the best of friends but we didn't know anyone else interested in going to the art exhibition. I was a little nervous because it was the first time I had hung out with her without anyone else from our circles, and I had a major crush on her. I was pleased, but made doubly conscious of my feelings, by her choice of outfit when I met her at the gallery: a spartan white business shirt and black slacks combination that matched the contrast of her pallid skin and black hair and flattered her lithe, little body. A thin silver necklace was visible through her collar, which was open far enough for a hint of cleavage when she shifted. The shirt was just transparent enough for her white bra to show. Yvette smiled when she saw me: one of her curious beams that employed her whole face but lasted less than a second. "Heya, John" she said, in that slow, deep drawl of hers.

"Hey, you," I said, my throat drying as my cock went slightly turgid.

My fears were further heightened when we arrived at the exhibition and I found the displays absolutely ridiculous, but previous conversations with Yvette had taught me that there was much she enjoyed that I found pretentious. I was afraid of offending her with an opinion when I noticed she was looking at the images in amusement, stifling laughter. I took the risk and said, "This is a load of shit."

"It is," she nodded, giggling, making my heart beat faster. "I'm glad you said something, I'm dying to get away from here." She put her hand on my arm and smirked, "How about you take me somewhere nice?"

We took a walk along the lake, trying to agree which picture had been the worst and then the conversation just galloped. I won't bore you with the details, but it was a lovely night out in the city and there was a fresh breeze blowing across the lake and by the time we went past a cafe that Yvette said we should stop for a bite at I suddenly realized she'd been clutching onto my arm and leaning her head against it for a while. Her weight felt nice, and her body was surprisingly cool.

The kiss came at the restaurant, during a satisfied lull in conversation after our meal where we rested against each other in quiet satisfaction. We'd ordered an assortment of little delicacies for desert and Yvette told me that I had to try the cinnamon ones, right as she popped the last one in her mouth. She was halfway to chewing it when she stopped and realized her error, flushing with embarrassment. I thought it was adorable and I didn't really mind, but put on a despondent face. "Well, I can't taste it now, can I?"

Her eyes gleamed with a sudden mischief as she looked around to make sure we we weren't being watched. The cafe was almost empty and we were seated where the waiters couldn't see us. She reached up to pull my head down and before I could process it I was in Yvette Black's mouth. Our tongues coiled and wrestled and her mouth was thick with the dissolving cinnamon cream. She was right. It tasted good. Her soft moans urged me as I ran my hand up her back. Her hand gripping my hair scratched and caressed, and then, after an eternity but far too soon, gently pulled to tell me to stop. A thick strand of saliva and cinnamon connected our parting mouths, breaking to fall onto her chin and speckle her pristine shirt. I went back in to give her chin little kisses and dry licks to clean the viscous fluid, and she gasped, "Oh God, John..."

After I pulled back, we were both slightly out breathe and wide-eyed. I saw surprise and naked lust in her eyes, and I'm sure they mirrored my own. Did we just do that?

Yvette composed herself enough to say, "I think I'd liked to be walked home."

Her house was a short route away and the night air calmed us down a little. She asked me how long I'd wanted to do that with, and I admitted that while I'd had a crush on her from the moment I'd seen her I'd never imagined who seemed so composed and refined as her would do something so spontaneous and dirty. She laughed lightly and said that I didn't know the half of it, and that I shouldn't be one to complain after going along so enthusiastically. I said I wasn't complaining, that it was the hottest kiss I've ever had and I'd love to do it again.

"Well, as you know, we're all out of cinnamon balls... but how about a clean farewell kiss?" She pointed at the apartment building we'd come to. "I'm afraid this is me."

I was sorry our evening had come to an end so quickly. "I'd love to see you again," I said, placing my hands on her hips, causing her to raise an eyebrow archly. "We can see more shitty art together, if you like."

"Mmmm, very tempting. How 'bout you show me you're worth my while?" She closed her eyes and puckered up theatrically.

I though I'd take my time with her on the second kiss, using my hands to slowly get her going, but it seemed we were both hornier than we'd admitted. Before I knew what I was cupping and squeezing her perfect ass through the thin fabric of her slacks and she was grinding against me, her hard nipples rubbing against me and my hard-on hot against her belly. Scared we must be doing something illegal we stopped after maybe a hour or so. She looked at me, her eyes burning my clothes off. "Yeah...," she said shakily. "That'll get you a second date."

"When?"

"I'll text you," she said. Then she made her way up the steps to the apartment's doorway. "Goo- goodnight, John."

I was so fucking blue balled that as soon as I was going to go home I was going to wank out the biggest load of my life, but I'd never been happier. I was positively skipping as I started to walk home, figuring it'd do me good to calm down before I got into a cab. I think I was about fifteen minutes' distance away from Yvette's house when my phone dinged. I pulled it out to read the text.

"Hey if you're still around I changed my mind. We can have that second date right now if you don't mind staying in. I live in 4C. Doors open don't ring the bell sis is asleep. Walk in quietly I'm the bedroom right opposite the door. Oh and lock the door obviously"

I didn't have money to text back.

I didn't think I could run any faster when she texted again. "In case you need more incentive". There was a photo attached. A hi-res camera photo of pale fingers with long nails I recognized as Yvette's from their light pink paint. They were as pink as the fat pussy lips they were parting. The slit looked tight and inviting, the little clit expectantly emerging. The harsh glare of the camera flash made the wetness glow. Her mound was stubbly, with an unkempt tuft of black hair above her clit. Its strands were matted down with her girlcum.

I was panting and sweating lightly by the time I reached 4C. I didn't think Yvette would mind the latter but I had to catch my breath before starting the night. Speaking of which...

I slowly turned the handle of the apartment door and found it still unlocked. It hadn't been ten minutes since her last text so I was hoping she was still awake. The door hinges were well oiled and didn't make any noise. I could see into a large, dark living room. There was a ceiling fan on. Directly opposite me was Yvette's room, its door slightly ajar, a dim orange light creeping through into the gloom. Beckoning me in.

I stepped into the darkened apartment and quietly locked the door behind me.