She Doesn’t Pt. 01

Categories: Genel.

Şub 27, 2021 // By:analsex // No Comment

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He tries to figure out why his virgin girlfriend will make love with him, but won’t take off her blouse.

WARNING: This is an adult story, containing sensitive material of a sexual nature, including graphic descriptions of consensual “vanilla” sex. If you find such material offensive or are underage, do not read further, but please bypass this story for one more suitable for you.. This is a work of fiction. All of the characters are mine, and the events in this story never took place. This story is written for enjoyment and entertainment purposes only, and no commercial profit is expected to be made from it. It may be copied for personal use or for posting on other sites, provided the sites are free sites . . . it may NOT be posted on any site that requires a “membership fee” of any kind. Posting is permitted on an “Adultcheck” type site (which might cost a few dollars a year for access to many sites) but not on an “Adultcheck Gold” site, which requires much more money. Our characters use birth control in this story . . . because all reasonable adults should behave responsibly when participating in sexual activities and they wish to avoid conception and the spread of disease.

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Chapter 1. Dinner

I kissed one eye, then the other. She held her face upwards to me, with her eyes closed. We had met at the church young people’s group, and she seemed like a reserved, proper girl. She was short, about 5 ft. 2, with a fairly trim body, a little on the hefty side, but eager. She had been out of college for several years, and worked as a clothing designer for a specialty shop, and was wearing a wool suit with a snug (but not tight) skirt that came just above her knees and a thick wool suit jacket that she refused to take it off when she arrived, even though my apartment was quite warm. After a couple of dates, I had invited her to my place for dinner. As we prepared dinner, we kissed, and after dinner, we moved to the sofa where we had talked for a while before I kissed her again

She seemed to like the kisses and melted herself into my arms. I ran my hands over her back but the thick wool jacket didn’t reveal much.

His kisses felt good! I liked being in his arms. This was only our second date (or maybe third if you count the time we went out for coffee). I didn’t want to seem “easy” but he had given me a few goodnight kisses at the end of our last date, so I guess kissing him now couldn’t hurt. After all, this was the end of the twentieth century!

But still, I felt unsure. I was at an age where I should be surer of myself, but I had never dated much …. I never got to spend a lot of times with boys. I guess I was always afraid and uncertain. Maybe that would change with him. He seemed nice and respectful.

I knew he had been engaged for a year and that the engagement had broken up some six months before … I don’t know what happened, but it had been messy and unpleasant. I hadn’t seen him out with anyone else since — maybe I was his first venture back into the world of dating. I have heard that when you break up with someone, either you rebound immediately, or it can take a long time. Since six months had passed, maybe Steve was in the latter category.

I had casino şirketleri seen Cathy around for some time. She was always on the edge of things — never a leader. She always seemed quiet and withdrawn. As far as I knew, she didn’t date much. I had learned on our last date that she was 25 years old. Hmm, 25 – – – that can be a difficult age for an unmarried woman – – – time is growing shorter for them – – – maybe their afraid that life is passing them by and they have to take a more active role in what happens around them . . . and to them.

I let my kisses trail across her cheek to below her ear and down her neck. She rolled her head back revealing he short neck. I worked my way to her collarbone, then continued to kiss across her throat to the other collarbone and up to her ear. Then, finding her mouth, we kissed again, not a deep kiss, but her arms pulled my head to her.

It was thrilling feeling his lips move down my neck and back to the other side. I hadn’t been kissed by boys very often, and I reveled in the excitement this elicited in me. I pulled his head into our kiss, but kept my lips closed, like any “nice” girl should. Still, the emotions he stirred in me were beyond description. I definitely wanted MORE of this! In a way,, I always HAD wanted more of this but somehow it never happened. Now, here I was, lavishing in the arms of a handsome man. .

We came up for a breath of air, and I leaned back on the sofa, cradling her head to my shoulder, holding her hand in mine. As our breathing came down a little, we talked . . . small talk, nothing much. When the conversation lagged, we looked into each other’s eyes again and moved together for more kisses.

I let my kisses trail down her neck again, but when I got to her collarbone, I followed the collar of her shirt downward, planting kisses all the way, until I reached the top button of her blouse. After a moment, I let my kisses move over the blouse and outward until I reached her right arm that was hanging by her side with her hand in her lap. I reached over and took the hand from her lap and kissed my way downward until I kissed the palm of her hand . . . always a turn-on for any woman.

Oh! I was frightened at first. No man had kissed my chest since I was in high school in the back seat of a car. And then, it was only after a lot of pawing and Groping and finally ripping the buttons off of my blouse. Hearing my blouse tear was the final straw that got me to jump out of the car and run. Maybe that was why I was always afraid.

Somehow, tonight seemed different. Barnabas wasn’t using force of any kind. He was just . . . kissing me. Then, he kissed my arm and hand. I guess there can’t be anything wrong with that, can there?

I turned her hand over and kissed the back of it, then worked my way back up to her shoulder, but moved again toward the “v” of her blouse, continuing over the exposed skin to the arm that was closest to me. Then I kissed back towards her breastbone and allowed my kisses to work downward over the fabric of her thick jacket, passing over one mound first and then kissing my way to pass over the other mound. I felt her back arch and heard a gasp, and was aware of her right hand coming off of her lap toward the casino firmaları back of my head, but after a moment, it dropped back to her lap. The amount of fabric between her and my lips made the kisses more symbolic than stimulating.

I unbuttoned the two buttons on the jacket, but as she felt it loosen, she seemed to twitch, and she immediately buttoned it again. I smiled to myself. If she wanted the jacket in place, I could live with that!

From there I kissed my way back to her shoulder and up her neck again.

Oh, my! I didn’t know what to do! Should I stop him? But then again, he wasn’t pawing me like the boy in high school. He hadn’t even laid a hand on me. I liked being kissed. I liked the attention. I liked Barnabas! When his lips found mine, I was confused . . . I didn’t know what to do. I was excited. I was confused. I was turned-on. I was afraid.

When he unbuttoned my jacket . . . I was awfully nervous. But when I buttoned it up, he didn’t force me . . . he just left the jacket in place and continued kissing me.

I glanced at my watch and made a lame excuse that it was getting late and I had told me roommate that I would be home by 10:00 PM (a lie). He smiled at me and nodded, telling me how lucky I was to have a roommate that watched out for me.

I helped him put the dishes in the sink, then he took me to the curb and flagged a taxi. When the cab arrived, he climbed in next to me. He said he wouldn’t think of sending me home by myself, and rode with me. On our trip across town, he told me how much en had enjoyed our company. He walked up to my doorstep, and after I opened the door, kissed me on the forehead and thanked me for a wonderful evening. As I moved inside, he returned to the cab and waved as the cabbie took him home.

When my roommate asked about the date, I gave her an non-committal, “it was fine”, and excusing myself, I went to my room to think. But thinking just made me more confused and I still didn’t know what I wanted.

Chapter 2. The next date.

I didn’t known whether or not I had frightened her off, but I sent her some carnations two days later. Then I called and asked her to dinner after work on the following Friday evening. She accepted but seemed a little skittish. I wondered if she is just very shy, or if she is afraid of men, or if she is just inexperienced. Maybe all three. But in any case, she accepted my invitation for dinner.

As dinner came to an end, I invited her to my apartment, to hear a Benny Goodman recording that I had just purchased. She hesitated and appeared confused. Then, as if making a decision, she accepted saying she WOULD like to hear the Benny Goodman Album.

There was a young lady from Kent Who knew just what men meant . . when they asked her to dine with Champagne and wine. She knew. Oh, she knew! But she went!

I was amazed when he sent me flowers! He was probably the first man to send me flowers. Maybe he REALLY thought I was special! Then when he called to ask me out for dinner, I felt elated! We had a nice dinner at in a quiet Italian restaurant, which I thoroughly enjoyed!

Then, he invited me back to his apartment.

Although I had spent hours in thought, reflecting on our güvenilir casino last “date”, I still hadn’t come to any conclusions. If I went to his apartment, I knew things would quickly progress to where they were on our last date. And if they did, what then? But in all honesty, I wondered if that was what I really wanted.

As we walked to his place, somehow the conversation moved to the subject of sex. Somehow, everything he said about sex seemed to be in the context of a relationship! It all seemed to imply some sort of commitment.

In his apartment, somehow we ended up sitting on his sofa, listening to Glen Miller seated on his sofa.

After our previous date, I was surprised as she gravitated to the sofa as I started the Glen Miller recording. We sat side-by side as we listened to my favorite selection. We commented on the music as the piece came to an end, and once again, our eyes met, we blended into a kiss, and once more I held her to me. Once again, my kisses wandered over her breastbone (she was wearing a high turtleneck shirt) and over her felt blazer which put a substantial barrier between us. This time, however, as my kisses covered her mounds, I opened my mouth to simulate biting a large portion of her breast, zeroing in on her nipples. As my kisses once again moved upward to her ear, I whispered, “I like imagining that you have nothing on where I’m kissing!”

She pulled my head to her hear as she whispered in my ear, “I like it when you imagine like that!”

How could I have said that? I was almost terrified at the thought of my being bear breasted and him kissing my breasts, let alone my BARE breasts. And yet, he still wasn’t “pawing” me. His hands hadn’t moved from holding my waist. He had just kissed me.

That response had to signify consent! My kisses moved to her breasts again and this time I brought my hand up to support her breasts as I kissed them (although I did not really touch breasts or nipples with my hands.)

After kissing and caressing her breasts, I let my hand slip down to her hip, and move toward the junction of her thighs as I continued to kiss her breasts through the bulky blazer. She was wearing a panty girdle over her panty hose, so I just caressed her through her thick skirt. Rather than force the issue, I just caressed her through the layers of material as close to her clit as I could get.

I felt his hand move up my rib cage to just below my breasts. He didn’t touch me, but I felt him holding my breasts in place as he kissed me. Then his hand moved downward to my “private” areas. Then, I felt his hand move to the hem of my skirt and then up to my panty-girdle and he started to touch me.

His touch electrified me, but frightened me also. No one had ever touched me there before! I didn’t know what to do, so I did nothing. He kissed my breasts through my blazer and caressed my . . . lower area, as I felt heat growing within me. My hands fell useless beside my head as I could do nothing to respond to his kisses or touch.

She didn’t respond to me. But at the same time, she didn’t offer any resistance. I heard her breathing speed up in response to my oral and manual manipulations. Her body gradually raised and I could feel her orgasm coming until she exploded, arching her hips against my hand and suddenly grasping my head and clutching my head to her breast. I don’t think she was aware of what she was doing. I allowed her climax to subside as she held me close to her.

(To be continued)

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