A Kiss is Still a Kiss - Sex Stories

A Kiss is Still a Kiss

... be given a chance with a somebody like Samantha. A beauty like her. He felt like the ugly duckling that had woken up one morning to find he was a magnificent swan. And the biggest hint had to be that Samantha hadn't wanted him to let Amy know he was coming over. * At last, eight o'clock approached, and he found the address she'd written on that piece of paper – she must have written it before that rehearsal – and headed out to find her house. Somewhat unsurprisingly, her house was in the wealthy side of town – Beauleigh Heights, no less – and when he turned up at the gate, Harry's jaw dropped in awe. It was a mammoth house, a mansion! Her parents had to be very well-off. Business magnates, lawyers, surgeons or something. He felt very small walking up the drive to the front door. And as he stood in the porch in front of the door, he felt very nervous. He wasn't exactly experienced with girls – what if he mis-read her signals? It could all go so badly wrong... And at the edge of his mind there was Amy, who would somehow organise his destruction if she found out he wasn't keeping his distance from her best friend. "Harry!" He didn't have time to be nervous – before he even rang the doorbell, the door opened and there was Samantha, looking divine as usual. Tonight, with her hair tied in a long ponytail, she was dressed in a pair of soft pink sweatpants and a spotless white tank-top that left her midriff tantalisingly bare as well as the soft swell of the top of her pert ...

... little breasts, which made it difficult for Harry to keep his eyes on hers. "Uh... hi..." he said. "I'm so glad you made it!" she leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. She was wearing a trace of expensive perfume – just enough to heighten her femininity, catch his attention, but not enough to swamp him or asphyxiate him. "Uh..." he felt like a simpleton, his tongue tripping over itself. She was so gorgeous, how could he concentrate on the play with her looking like that? "Come on up to my room," she said, closing the door behind him, then leading him up the sumptuous staircase that led around the entrance hall up to a landing in the huge house. Harry wondered where Samantha's parents were, dreading meeting them a little – he wasn't dressed in expensive clothes, after all, he'd probably present a poor impression. "You know, Amy's been warning me about you," she said as they walked. "She has?" "Yeah. She thinks you're a dork because you're not into the whole jock-football thing." "Oh," he said, not so much surprised that Amy thought he was a dork, but that Samantha would reveal her secrets to him like that. "You know, I thought you were a bit of a dork too," she said with an amused glance, "before you opened my eyes." His heart was pounding again – he was almost surprised she couldn't hear it, it was so loud, so forceful. What was she saying? "You know, I think it's easy to see anyone outside your social circle as a bit of a dork," she said. "I mean, you probably weren't ...