Open Re-Edit

We repair to the couch, yet neither one of us starts reaching for our clothing. Perhaps a little naked discussion between the two of us might just do the trick. Lynn is fearless, or mighty crafty because she says she is making us a second night cap and makes sure she saunters her little ass in my full view. Maybe my eyes being glued to her behind has not been as stealthy as I told myself. Her slender torso has just enough womanly curve, but still slender enough where my ultimate goal for the evening is shimmering in the low light, even with Lynn walking straight and proud while adding just enough hip shimmy to attract any predator with two eyes in front.

I can not help but wonder if Jim might not soon be regretting all the flexible little monkey stories he liked to tell me about ways he has taken Lynn. I guess it was one way to fill long hours between set up and takes for out latest pocket picking via the airwaves hoax we were perpetrating on the public.

As Lynn approaches with our second night cap of the evening I notice that she is sporting a bald pubic region. With full view of her pale thin lips I realize that it is a perfect match for her facial features. Color and spare fleshiness all in perfect harmony. I also now appreciate the trouble some women go to in pursuit of physical symmetry and beauty, but Lynn was well ahead of her time in this detail. Young blond woman in my past had the fine down accenting the area but the care put into this landscaping was clear. And the sight of full frontal naked Lynn was reinvigorating the desire to put in some renewed effort to enter such a well groomed piece of the universe.

Lynn hands me my replacement cocktail for the one toppled in our first unconsummated dalliance and instead of joining me on the sofa she kneels before my naked knees with her drink in hand.

Lynn’s large blue Pisces eyes I was swimming in again as she knelt before me were quizzical. Her large mouth and slender lips split to reveal a line of straight white teeth. I knew because of her short shorn hair that was alternately brown, blonde, or red depending on the light, that should I play my cards right I still had a chance for a particularly tasty visually oral treat.

Again the list of justifications that this night’s proceedings will require is running through my head; all while my cock was straining and bobbing in front of Lynn’s watery blue eyes. Blue eyes she can not keep off it. She is talking into it as if to a microphone. “Look at how nice and hard this cock is.” Lynn says and lowers her head between my thighs so her eyes are now wide and peering heavenward as if admiring an obelisk. She places her hands on either side of my prick as if in prayer and rises up as if ready to engulf me in her wide thin lipped mouth. Still not making contact. Hovering over the head of my dick. I am looking at the neat side part in her hair. Being short it does not obscure the view of my prick poised erectly below her nose. I can feel her breath on the glans and I resist the impulse to pull her face and mouth onto me. I will let her have her fun. There will be a piper to be paid by us both, whether or not the act is consummated on this night or not.

Another justification. I know what Jim does on those business trips in LA, NY, Detroit, and Dallas; because I am there with him. A young creative team for a major advertising agency with per diems on top of generous salaries can foster a variety of liaisons. Thank you pre-internet and video conference days. From the continuity girl to having to service the older account women who, just as older automobiles need more attention but are well worth the ride, are available and eager to service and be serviced. Lynn is not stupid. I am sure she knows Jim is no monk out on the road.

Meanwhile Lynn’s payback program is doing a number on me. On the floor between my thighs Lynn teases me mercilessly with feints towards taking my now reinvigorated and resplendently erect prick in her mouth only demurring at the last mouth agape moment in exaggerated hesitation to torture me for my earlier tentativeness. She places a finger tip at the corner of her mouth and looks up and to the side, highlighting her large blue eyes and plays her parody of Hamlet’s soliloquy to mock me. “Should I or should I not, that is the question?” With that she smiles her large white smile and places her chin atop my straining member and at last touches me slowly wrapping her fingers gently where balls and shaft meet.

She is probably squeezing a little harder than I might have liked. Though in my brain I was begging for her to start the age old stroking motion to commence a hand job with the lovely Lynn's face as a backdrop. That might be just enough for me. She again pauses and seems to be searching my eyes for a clue. It is as if we are both just waiting for the other to say. “It’s OK.” As if the both of us naked, on the couch, Lynn's fingers wrapped around my cock and her chin resting on that pedestal were not answer enough.

But Lynn adds to the answer with her other hand which glides under my balls lifting them playfully and holding them on her fingers. I feel her fingernails on the firm stretch of real estate tween sack and butt. In a final taunt she tells me, “These sure look like some big balls.” She gives me a smirking grin. With a squeeze on the shaft and a firm grip on my balls Lynn opens wide and her head drops and I watch most of my cock disappear into Lynn's wet and busy mouth. I think my moan could have woken the dead.

But did it awaken Jim?