"I can't believe I'm doing this," she muttered, barely able to look up from my feet.
"Ditto," I agreed.
After a long awkward moment, she finally crossed the threshold, and I closed the door behind her, making sure it was locked. Even though the apartment complex was incredibly safe and all the neighbors were very respectful of everyone's privacy, this situation, this night, was one in which I truly wished I owned a house in a secluded location: perhaps high in the mountains, or on a private island, or even a lone house surrounded by miles of Midwestern farmland.
"Do you want a drink perhaps?" I offered, hoping the nervousness was not evident in my voice.
"I'd better not," she said, shaking her head as she finally looked deep into my eyes. "I'm driving tonight."
"Good point, although you could stay here for the night if you wanted."
She shrugged. "We'll see."
"I'll leave the wine corked then."
Finally, she smiled. "From your profile online, I'm not surprised you have wine here."
It was my turn to shrug. "I don't care for beer, and wine reminds me of dinners in Europe when I was there as an exchange student and in college."
She seemed to be appraising me as I spoke. I could feel her eyes drinking me in, noting my all-black attire. If she could see through my slacks, she would know that I was even wearing black underwear.
"You have good arms," she complimented me, which took me quite by surprise, for I had never truly exercised, and other than when I moved to the apartment some three months earlier, I had not lifted anything even remotely heavy in several years. "You also have large hands."
I shrugged. "The hands are theoretically due to playing piano for over twenty years."
She reached for a hand, and pressed her palm to mine. To say that my hand dwarfed hers would be a major understatement. That was when, even though she had been standing directly before me, I realized just how much of a size difference there was between us. While I was not obese by any means, I had definitely put on a little weight, although my height fortunately helped to balance out my bad eating habits. In contrast, she had a rather small frame, with a very short height which truly befitted her. Her profile had stated that she looked "like a lolita fantasy" but was "very much an adult."
She was indeed very much an adult, especially given the reason she had come to my apartment.
"Let's just do it," she pleaded with a whisper. "I need this. The nervousness is really starting to get to me."
"Are you sure?" I countered. "It may be better for you to relax first, unwind."
"Please, just do it. Please..."
I put my hands upon her shoulders, noting just how much I had to reach downward to do so. I could so easily overpower her, and even her best resistance would barely counter my efforts. She knew from my profile that I enjoyed dominating young women, and she had admitted that eventually that may be something she and I could explore.
...but at this moment, something else was at hand.
Slowly, I allowed a hand to glide from her shoulder along the upward curve to the side of her neck. She was breathing faster than average, her eyes riveted with mine. For a moment, I was nearly drowning in the twin seas of blue, but the feel of her heat and her pulse beneath my fingertips thrust me back into the present reality.
I stepped forward, and she instinctively stepped backward. This repeated twice before she found her back against a wall, and her sudden intake of air was thrilling in combination with the widening of her expressive eyes. She was definitely rather nervous, but I could also see the flash of wonder within her.
Slowly, carefully, I slid my thumb across the front of her neck. She was still breathing a little quicker than what would be considered normal, and her hands had risen to press gently against my chest in a silent request to please wait a moment.
"Whenever you're ready," I reassured her, slipping my other hand to the side of her chest, feeling the material of her black bra underneath her red fishnet top.
A soft sound, almost like the mew of a kitten, passed between her painted lips. From previous experience, I recognized that sound, and slid my hand from her neck back to her shoulder as I leaned forward and downward...
Our lips met -- tentatively, like a butterfly alighting upon a flower for the very first time. In a heartbeat, she seemed to finally relax, pressing into the kiss as her hands began to roam across my chest and sides. She whimpered into my mouth, and I took her breath gratefully.
...then gently squeezed her dainty neck.
The breath which she gave me was rather short and accompanied with a small squeak. Her hands stiffened, her entire body going rigid with renewed tension and nervousness.
I lifted my head away and looked into her eyes. The pair of blue seas had become troubled, and I was only exerting just a little pressure with a single hand. She could still breathe, just not as well as she would under normal circumstances.
Then again, she was in my apartment. This was not a normal circumstance.
"It's okay," I reassured her. "I'm not going to harm you in any way."
I maintained the easy pressure around her neck as my free hand moved onto a breast. Her inhale was sudden, quick, nervous. But as I squeezed her breast, she seemed to relax a little, although still breathing faster than normal.
Myself, I was growing. Finally being able to have her in my presence, trusting me enough to give her this experience despite having met in person just minutes earlier, allowing me to touch her intimately, making herself so potentially vulnerable for me, it was a heady and arousing experience.
When she arched her back to press more of her breast into my hand, I knew that I could do more, go further, but I maintained the same pressure on her neck for several minutes, holding steady and feeling her occasionally swallow her saliva, losing myself in her expressive blue eyes as I fondled her chest.
At last, she closed her eyes, slowly, still breathing fairly well. She was clearly lost in the sensations, in the slightly-restricted breathing and the gentle manipulation of her breasts. I wished that she was naked or at least topless, so that I could toy with her nipples as well, gently rolling one between my fingers or carefully brushing one with a fingernail or pinching one harder and harder until she squealed from the pain...
I purposely waited until she had exhaled, then tightened my grip upon her neck. Instantly, her eyes snapped open, filled with an expression of fear. Her fingers dug into my sides, and I was thankful that I was wearing an undershirt for just a little more protection from her long fingernails. I smirked briefly, proud of myself for having surprised her, but that lessened quickly into a smile to try to calm her, an attempt to reassure her.
The breaths which passed through her constricted throat were rapid, shallow, needy. She trembled, trying to restrain the instinct to fight me. This is what she had come to experience, and her struggle to hold back her primal need and succumb to my will was beautiful to witness in her wide eyes.
Still I caressed her chest, alternating from breast to breast, giving each a gentle squeeze. A soft gasp arose from her as I squeezed a breast with a little more force, and her eyes wavered for an instant. Her hands moved to grasp my wrist, although whether to try to push my hand away or hold it in place seemed to be undetermined.
Despite myself, I lessened the pressure just slightly as I bent down to kiss her forehead. Feeling the slight puff of exhalation upon my neck and the small gasping sound which accompanied it further solidified my arousal, and she was not even bound and naked.
...yet. That would almost certainly be for another time, when I did not need to work in the morning, when she did not need to think about her college studies.
I kissed her lips and took another slight exhalation from her before breathing it back into her lungs. We traded the same breath several times before, at last, I eased and then released the pressure upon her neck and stood erect again, pulling her to me and enveloping her with my protective arms as she sagged against me, her arms sliding around me as she relished the ability to breathe properly once again.
For a long time, I simply held her, occasionally caressing her or kissing the top of her head. Eventually, my erection subsided. And soon, she looked up at me, her eyes only partially open, the blue seas no longer turbulent, but glowing with triumph.
"Thank you," she finally whispered.
"Glad to be of service," I acknowledged with a smile, "and to show someone the ropes."
She giggled softly. "Maybe next time. However..."
"Yes?" I prompted.
"How about some wine?"
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Disclaimer: All posted stories include descriptions of sex scenes that could cause offence to some people. Please do not read this story if you are offended by perverse sexual material, or if you are under the legal age of consent for your own country. These stories are pure fiction and are not based on anyone living or deceased.
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