Yes - Sex Stories

Yes

... Take a girl out for dinner or drinks. When what you want to do is not make small talk, not have dinner. You want to fuck her, you say so. You should say, ‘I want to fuck you.’” The word “fuck,” was transformed by her voice into something large and insistent and unnamable. She said, “If I want sex, I ask for sex.” He moved his hand slightly higher up the bare skin of her knee, stopping at the hem of her short skirt, thrilled at the prospect of crossing another border. “That feels very nice,” she said. The accent, the whisper. He shivered. He felt her hand at his knee, slowly moving up his leg toward his still hardening cock. He took note that there were people within two or three seats of them on either side. A high school aged couple behind them. A family in front of them. He gave her a lopsided smile and said, “Maybe we should move to the back of the theater.” He stood, took her hand to help her out of her seat, led her quietly to the back. The only other people in the row were another couple on the far side of the aisle, regarding them furtively. Some woman in a red dress, some guy in a suit. They settled into their chairs. The previews over, the movie house lights dimmed further, the show began. He again placed his hand on her knee. She slouched back into her chair, reading herself for what might happen next. He leaned into her ear and whispered, “Spread your legs.” She let out a nearly inaudible birdlike cry, closed her eyes, leaned her head back, exposing the glorious ...

... white curve of her neck. He whispered, “Slide your skirt up for me.” Again, the barely audible cry. She spread her hands out and with delicious slowness hooked them under the hem of her skirt, pulled the thin material back to reveal several more inches of her skin. It was as white and perfect as her neck. His eyes stayed on the screen as his hand left her knee and moved slowly up her leg. Her leg shivered slightly. He stopped at the edge of her panties and relished the moment, on the dreamy boundary of something wild and new. She opened her eyes a fraction, giving him a sultry sleepy stare, and as she leaned in toward his ear his cock jumped in anticipation. The whisper. The accent. “Remember about the popcorn?” she said. “Yes.” “I want you to savor everything,” she said. “I will taste it all.” She leaned closer still and licked the inside of his ear. “I’m getting wet,” she said, the “w” sounding more like an “h,” the final percussive “t” in the last word resonating in his ear, every nerve in his body suddenly alight. Yes. Wet. What lovely words. He slid his finger along the outside hem of her panties. He felt the muscles of her leg tighten, heard a sharp intake of breath. He moved his finger mere inches to the dampness in the thin cloth, just over her moistening slit. He began to glide the tip of his finger up her pussy lips, then reversing direction to slip back down. She spread her legs wider, clearly wanting more. He began to tease her in earnest now, running two fingertips ...