Goodbye, Miss Granger - Part 3 - Sex Stories

Goodbye, Miss Granger - Part 3

... hem of my skirt, threatening to expose my bottom. I put an arm around Kevin’s waist and pulled close so that our hips were touching. He turned to look at me, his eyes dark shadows behind his sunglasses, and I craned my neck up to give him a coffee-flavoured kiss – just a soft one, lips only. Kevin put his arm around me, his fingers resting lightly on the curve of my waist and his thumb a scant couple of inches beneath the support of my bra. Suddenly I wanted that hand to head north; I was glad we didn’t get more intimate the previous night, but now – after all of that talk of first-time sex with Belinda – I was curious, and I was so ready. He kissed me back, more deeply and insistently. “Ow!” I pulled back, just an inch. “I’m still sore. From last night. Pash-rash” I smiled, indicating the skin around my lips and my chin, still heavily made up. “Oh!” he said, the disappointment obvious. “I’m sorry.” “It’s not your fault,” I said, and then smiled. “Well, not entirely, anyway. You just have to be gentle with me.” I gave him another kiss, soft, dry, lips only. “Like that,” I whispered, our noses still touching. He kissed back again, more gently this time. “Is that better?” “A bit,” I said. “Maybe you need to practice. Here, hold this.” I gave him my coffee cup and now, with his hands full, I turned him to face me and embraced him with both arms, pecking at his lips with short, gentle kisses while I explored the contours of his back, following the lean lines of muscle under his ...

... shoulder-blades, down over his kidneys, and finally sliding my fingers into the back pockets of his jeans, feeling the shape of his backside until he tensed the muscles deliciously beneath my fingertips. “That’s not fair,” he murmured through my kisses, his hands full and using his forearms to hug me ineffectually around my bra-strap, yet still managing to press by breasts deliciously into his chest. “Let’s walk back through the gardens,” I said, letting him go and taking my cup back. We crossed the forecourt again towards Farm Cove and through the gates into the Royal Botanic Gardens, where we binned the coffee cups and took the steps up to the low bluff that overlooks the Sydney Opera House. There’s lots of little paths and thick, shady trees and not so many tourists, so it feels kind of private. We walked slowly with arms around each other, his on my waist and mine in his back-pocket, feeling his backside though the denim. It was slow progress because we stopped at regular intervals to hold and kiss, his hands occasionally straying down to cup my bottom, making me wonder whether he was checking for a panty-line that wasn’t there. ~~~ Back at Circular Quay, Kevin led me to what might be Australia’s most recognisable water-craft: the Manly Ferry. So much for a surprise. I wasn’t disappointed though, I like Manly; nice cafes and restaurants, nice beaches, and the ferry ride is romantic – it’s quaint and old-fashioned like a vintage train ride. We went straight to the seats by ...