The Philanderer and Her Top Secret

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“Hi… I didn’t think you were really here.” She peeked behind her apartment door then let me in.

“Now, why wouldn’t I be in Washington?” She inspected me.

“No, not about that–I figured you’d forget and go back home.” I handed her the tiny plastic Krishna I’d hidden.

“For me?” She smiled, there was something different, maybe it was the lipstick she wore. She inspected Krishna.

“I told you I’d come. I bought it from a Hare Krishna I met on the Mall. He told me his life story so I gave him five dollars.” She laughed.

“They’re tricky. They’re usually pushing those pink and blue elephant books though…I love it!” She hugged me, ran into her room then returned without the figurine.

“I put him on my dresser. –How was Erin’s? You drove?” I sat on her couch, she went into her kitchen.

“It wasn’t as dramatic as I imagined.” She came back with pineapple juice. She didn’t ask if I wanted anything to drink, she just poured and handed it to me. She sat beside me and drank hers. I thought about her mouth, I’m sure her smile seemed different because she wore more lipstick now.

“Less weeping and pleading?” We both grinned, but mine was defensive.

“It was all very casual, I guess we’ve been over-over, for a while now.” She responded,

“You’re a drama queen, you wanted her to cry and carry on over losing you.”

“I might have. It was just so surreal. She agreed that we shouldn’t be ‘together’, and she wanted me to meet the guy she’s been sleeping with.” She laughed.

“The two of you are surreal… Did you meet him?” I shook my head.

“I know enough about him. You probably know enough about him. –Having an open relationship with someone is as contrary as most people think.”

“Well, I heard that you two were always pretty graphic with each other about what, err, who you did.” I couldn’t help but laugh.

“That’s true, it’s always been like some sort of competition. Really though? She’s always said she’d scratch the eyes out of any of the girls I’d been with–why would I want to be buddies with this guy? –The worst part was that she asked if I wanted to watch them fuck…she can always one-up me. She says she loves him, but the tragic part is- he has a girlfriend that he apparently loves enough to keep Erin as his secret late night piece of ass.” She didn’t respond, but straightened her hair in the reflection from the glass coffee table.

“Your hair’s very trendy these days.” She stuck out her tongue.

“Don’t be a dick.” I didn’t mean it as an insult, I liked it.

“Jordan, I wasn’t–Haha. I don’t know how to say ‘I like your hair’ devoid of any form of sarcasm.” She half-smiled at the compliment, but against the fact that I felt I couldn’t compliment her without her being defensive. She adjusted whatever was keeping her hair pulled back, then spoke:

“I also heard that your living with someone back home. Did you break up with Erin because of her?” She was going right for it now; none of the usual banter and silly stories.

“She wanted me to, I guess; she was excited when I told her I was going to come down here and tell Erin–she never asked me too though.” She sort of frowned. I continued:

“I’m sure Erin and I were never really in love…in lust, yes, all those types of feelings; but I thought it was time to have some sort of official break-up.”

“Which turned out less spectacular than you’d hoped?”

“More mundane than I felt it should be, for having such a crazy relationship for so long.” She called me a drama queen again.

“I hope it did the trick, and that you don’t get back with her–it was rather dysfunctional, I’d have to say.” She giggled. I agreed.

“Tell me about the girl you’re living with; I kind of hoped she was the reason you broke up with Erin–the woman that would make you decent.”

“Oh, so you’ve higher aspirations for me after all?” She blushed, I felt bad. I wanted her to be invested in me.

“You don’t talk to me as much as you used to, I have to get my information from secondary sources.” Namely, my sisters and who knows who else.

“Well, you sort of moved hundreds of miles away to work in some fancy office for some douchebag politician… I miss our after school talks too.” In high school we pretty much walked home together every day, and even the days she had cheerleading I usually had soccer or baseball, so we’d wait for the other to finish and go home together.

“Haha, fancy offices, douchebag politician… You left me first, you were off in some sleazy dorm room doing who knows what when I was still walking home all by myself, terribly lonely and bored out of my mind.” I laughed at how she dragged out the ‘terribly’. She was two years younger than me, I met her when I was a sophmore in high school–her family had moved into a house a few hundred yards from mine.

“I called you more than anyone else when I was away. Besides, we talked just about every night on the computer.”

“Text messages aren’t the same, plus you pendik escort only called me a couple of times anyway… Wait a minute, how did you manage to evade my questions about whoever you’re living with?” She eyed me, interrogator again.

“For someone who’s barely five foot tall and 100 pounds you sure are intimidating.” I smiled, she mocked a scowl.

“I’m 5’3!” She slapped my shoulder. I was sure she wasn’t 5’3, but that’s ok, cuz I tell people I’m 6’3 when I’m not at all. She poured more pineapple juice into my half-full cup, then asked if I wanted more.

“You remember Heather with the almost black hair, right?” She thought about it.

“Pale skin, fake eyebrows, works at the mall?”

“That doesn’t sound so nice when you say it like that, but yeah, I think she was in your grade.” She nodded.

“I spoke maybe three words to her in my life, ran into her a few months ago in front of the grocery, talked for a while and she invited me to a party at her and her boyfriend’s house. I wasn’t gonna go but Rick mentioned he was going, and that he was friends with her, so I went, and then sort of took her home with me.”

“You’re horrible. I can’t even imagine…” She fiddled with one of her earrings, a belated Christmas gift I’d sent her last year after she’d given me mine on Christmas. I felt horrible not having something for her on Christmas when we’d given each other little presents every year we’d known one another–I’d completely forgot, since I hadn’t heard much from her since she’d started her internship in D.C.

“She wasn’t like drunk or anything, I thought we’d just make out on her back porch for a little, then I’d head home.” She said I was terrible again.

“It was freezing, January frigid, and we were just kissing out back and she says she wants to come over. So we go and the next morning she has to deal with her boyfriend, I guess he found out quick and he threw her stuff on the front lawn. I felt bad, so she stayed with me, and sort of never found another place.” She didn’t respond and went into the kitchen again.

“Kerry’s not gonna be home for dinner; you want me to make you dinner?” She peeped out at me from between the counter and cupboard.

“Yes, please. You’re a very good cook.”

“I am a very good cook. When you going home?”

“Why, is your secret sweetheart coming over tonight? Am I going to have to hide in the closet, because he gets so jealous he beats dudes up?” Her face flushed and she popped back behind the cupboard. For as long as I’d known her I teased her about having a boyfriend that she hid from me. It was always fun for me when we were young, because I thought she had a little crush on me and I loved her nervous and embarrassed faces. I always had a little crush on her, so I teased her, mostly because I was afraid of what people would think if she were my girlfriend–really though, when you’re sixteen and seventeen, and she’s fourteen, it’s not really acceptable.

“Oh, is it Thursday already? Victor doesn’t come over to ravish me until Sunday afternoon. And I suppose I can blow off Henry and Joey tonight, so you’re safe–unless Paolo is back from the war early, and wants to surprise me…in that case you’d better make for the fire escape, Paolo’s a commando and he could sniff you out from under a pile of my panties.” I laughed harder than I can remember at her grocery list of lovers.

I went into the kitchen, she was boiling water, I inspected the pictures her and her roommate kept on the refrigerator–mostly of the two of them at different D.C. sites making lascivious gestures toward our Founding Fathers. There was a picture of her sitting in my lap from last summer, my face was horribly sun burnt, it was at someone’s graduation party, she was only home for a few days then.

“Look at how red my face was from when I went fishing in the Adirondacks with Ricky and Jack–that was brutal.” She put noodles in the pot, then looked at me and the picture.

“Yeah, I remember, you got Jilly’s mom to put lotion on your back. God, she practically applied it with her tongue.” We laughed.

“She’s still hot though–I hope my wife looks as good as her when I’m however old Mr. Lewis is.” She raised an eyebrow at me.

“You’ll have to scout perspective wives’ mothers then–Jill’s a lock for middle-aged mom hotness.”

“Yeah, little Jilly would go in the top-ten of the future-hot-wife draft.” She laughed.

“What are you then, the commissioner?”

“Yeah, I went to college, I could head that league.” She shook her head and began stirring some sort of sauce. After a pause she asked where she’d go in the draft.

“Well, your mom’s definitely pretty, still slim, good genes–so just on that you’d fair well in the first round; but you’ve got an advantage with your lighter hair and blue eyes…so I’d have to say you’d go ahead of Jill, since she probably won’t match her mom’s hotness, whereas you’ll easily surpass your own mom’s.” She smiled and continued with the dinner preparations.

“My maltepe escort Dad’s mom was a strawberry-blond, but my hair isn’t as light as hers or my sister’s.” I turned the heat down and stirred the noodles when I saw the top start to foam.

“Leah’s got little girl hair, yours is womanly, grown-up hair. I like it darker.” She blushed and asked me to retrieve some items from the cupboard. The heat from the stove made her look especially sensual. I watched her for a few minutes while she spread garlic on bread and cut various vegetables for a salad.

I wanted her, but I knew she wouldn’t let me work her, plus I didn’t want to do anything to cheapen what we had–or what I hoped we might have. I’d never kissed her mouth, just her neck to make her squeal, a quick kiss on the cheek, and held her hand for a bit. The fact that she knew most of my secrets made things difficult, the fact that I had someone waiting for me at home made things seemingly impossible. She spoke after I’d been silent for so long:

“You almost never wear jeans, I like those, they look nice on you.” She studied my pants then smiled at me. It was early April, but warm enough outside that she wore a light sweater over some sort of low cut shirt, her jeans also fit her nicely. I peeked down her sweater when I handed her the strainer for the noodles. Everything about her was small, her hands, her teeth, her waist–and her breasts fit her perfectly, they were small but seemingly pert, sexy. Her ass also fit her well, a round little bump most petite girls would love to have behind them.

“I don’t like how they feel, but I do like how they look on girls with nice bottoms.” She caught me looking at her, smiled, then told me to behave. Dinner was ready, we sat on the floor in the living room and ate, she told me about what it was like working for politicians.

“I forgot…” She got up and went into the kitchen and returned with wine. She poured it for us then sat back down next to me on the carpet. I’d never seen her drink alcohol before, it was strange, but nice in that it fit well with the adult version of her.

“This sauce is great, I do remember how good a cook you are–especially when I first lived on my own and had to make my own food. I still think about that cabbage thing you used to make with your grandma on Sundays.”

“Thank you. Perhaps I’ll make it for you again–if you’re a nice boy and call me once in a while…”

“I promise I’ll let you in on all of my top secrets from now on.”

“Good, I just hope there as good as mine.” She smiled, I wondered.

“Does your internship run through summer?”

“No, most the other interns are going to move on to bigger internships, and on and on, ’til their some top aide to a senator or campaign manager… I’m sick of working for politicians, I think I’m gonna take a break from Washington this summer. How about you? You’re gonna graduate soon.” We’d finished eating, she took my plate to the kitchen.

“Yeah, I’ve got a spot at my uncle’s hedge fund. I’ll be staring at a terminal, watching squiggly lines at a trading desk, by Labour Day.” She returned and sat on the couch over my shoulder. I continued:

“But not before I spend a month in Europe like so many other frivolous young men on the verge of ultimate responsibility.” She laughed.

“Europe will be great. You’ll have to send me a cheezy postcard from every one of the typical tourist stops…says the jealous girl, who’d die to get her picture taken in front of the Eiffel Tower.” I laughed, then had a maniac idea. I got up and sat next to her on the couch.

“Come with me then, it’s only a few weeks…” A bunch of different feelings crossed her face then.

“Yeah right, like you’ll even remember asking me this a month from now.”

“I guess I’ll just have to call you up every day so you can remind me.” She leaned into me.

“Alright, but every day you don’t call me you’ll break my heart a little.” She had her head on my shoulder, she was warm, her hair smelled like raspberries, maybe. We sat there silent for a few minutes.

“You smell nice. I probably smell like car still.”

“It’s going to be dark soon, I don’t want you to fall asleep at the wheel…stay over.” I was becoming incredibly turned-on, though I still couldn’t figure her out. She continued:

“You can use the shower and smell like flowers or fruit, instead of sweat and car.” I laughed. We watched a little TV, then I took said shower. When I was drying off she called from her room:

“Stephen. Don’t put your stinky clothes on, I have shorts and a t-shirt I think will fit.” I left the bathroom to retrieve them, with towel around my waist, more or less trying to read her reaction to a half-naked me. She’d changed into tight blue shorts and a little t-shirt that barely covered her navel. She turned and was startled.

“Oh! Hi.” She looked at my chest for a moment, smiled, then handed me a pair of white shorts. I went back to the bathroom and kartal escort tried on her clothes. The shorts were pretty short and tight, but the t-shirt fit fine. She laughed when I came out wearing the shirt that read ‘Angel’.

“You’re not very nice, you have plain t-shirts.” I saw her check out my package, well defined by the tiny white shorts. She giggled.

“I could get you the one that says ‘Daddy’s Girl’ if you don’t like ‘Angel’.” I passed. We watched a movie and ate popcorn, which made me forget the clothes I was wearing; soon she announced that it was time for bed. During the movie I hadn’t really done much to try and get her going, we just sat together and made silly comments, but she did hold my hand for a while and nuzzled against my shoulder from time to time. I figured I was couch-bound for the night when she got up.

“Come on.” She looked back at me. Then I figured out she meant for me to come with her to her room.

“This is a slumber party, silly, we’ve got to have a bed.” She brushed her teeth and said I could use hers. Which would probably make alot of people sick, to use someone else’s toothbrush or to have someone use yours, but I thought it was erotic in a way. When I came into her bedroom she was under the covers. I got in beside her and propped my head on my elbow so I could look at her. I was telling her about some weird stuff that was going on back home, just light chit chat, when she started pinching my arms and laughing at my grimace.

“You think I won’t pinch you back?” With that I grabbed her hands and held them over her head and made like I was going to pinch her stomach but tickled her instead. She laughed hysterically and kicked the covers down to her feet.

“I won’t stop until you tell me all of your top secrets.” She squirmed and said she’d tell me anything if I stopped. When I let go of her hands and stopped tickling she brought my hand to her mouth and bit it. I swore. Her breathing settled.

“Alright, you have to tell me your top secrets.” She smiled, leaned in as to whisper something in my ear, but instead bit my neck; which made my hardening dick, rock hard in the tight shorts.

“Ahh! –You’re the naughtiest girl of all-time, I can’t believe you keep tricking me.”

“Sorry.” She stroked the red marks on my neck then leaned in and kissed it, I thought for a second she was going for a repeat performance, but the only repeat was how aroused she made me when her lips touched my neck. I stroked her arm when she lay back down, I could see her nipples poking through her tight shirt after a minute of my tippling. We watched each other before I stroked her face and chin, which made her basically coo. I leaned toward her to kiss her when she smiled and said:

“If you want a kiss you’ll have to ask.” I replied,

“I want you.”

“You can have me.” I more or less dove in, but kissed her softly, she whined while I worked on her tongue with mine. I licked her lips and teeth, I wanted to taste the inside of her mouth. For so long she’d been this inaccessible ideal, idea, desire, sensual whatever; and here she was pulling my head and neck toward her, letting me nibble on her neck and chin and fondle her breasts.

“You want to see my top secrets?” She lifted her arms so I could pull her shirt off over her head.

“I love your top secrets.” Her breasts were perfect, small and pert and pretty. I fondled the right and kissed her behind her ear, while she slid her hands under my shirt and rubbed my chest and stomach, then I took her other tit in my mouth. I swirled my tongue around her aereola and lightly nipped her, which made her moan and chest heave as I licked and played with each breast. She found her way to my cock and rubbed it with her palm over my shorts. I attempted to remove it from my shorts, but she stopped me and stated:

“Let me take it out.” She initially tried to yank the shorts down, which was slightly painful. She saw my reaction and went about my disrobing, cautiously, I watched her react when she’d finally exposed my nakedness. She looked at me, giggled, then wrapped her hand around my cock while I took off my shirt. I lay back and she held my dick, not sure what she was up to, I started to rub her shorts over her thighs and puss. She looked at me,

“I like holding it.”

“I like you holding it, but I wish you’d stroke it a little, I think you’re cutting off the circulation…” She smiled, leaned over me and pressed her tits into my chest while she kissed my chin. I was able to get her shorts and panties down her thighs and felt the moist heat from her vagina against my own thigh. We kissed more as she started to fondle my balls and dick. I pressed two knuckles against her clit and stroked her slit, she pressed into my hand and moaned.

“Oh, I like that… Let me get these all the way off.” She shimmied out of her shorts and then back onto my chest so she could play with my dick. It was all very slow going, I wasn’t sure what she was up to, so I kept rubbing her clit while she rubbed against my slick thigh.

“Ohhh… this is uhmm…” She stopped caressing my penis and held my hand tight against her clit, she’d also stopped grinding against my thigh and I didn’t know what had happened until she let go of her breath.

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