Betty Dodson with Carlin Ross

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I got out of the cab and checked the address I’d written down. I was a little too far up the street. I checked the time, noted that I had ten minutes left to get to where Wendy was with her good friend Kit-Ting. I walked with long strides. Stopped at the light for the traffic, then looked to my side to find Wendy and Kit-Ting standing next to me.

“Hi!” Wendy and I said in semi-unison after she’d made eye contact.

That was the first I’d met Kit-Ting, a woman in her late thirties who looked like late twenties to early thirties. I loved her looks. A soft Chinese accent, cute little nose, and shoulder-length black curtain hair. Perfect almond eyes. I felt that little moment, in spite of my confidence, where I hoped she felt the same about me.

We walked up to Kit-Ting’s apartment together, up the stairs, in through her front door, dropped our coats on her sofa, and slipped out of our shoes and socks. Kit-Ting felt most comfortable with Wendy being there during our sex because she had just met me and she also wanted Wendy to watch and be with her energetically and intimately if she needed support. We made quick bathroom trips, then made our way to the bedroom.

Kit-Ting was wearing a rich purple, Chinese-red, and orange dress. I remarked on how much I loved the color combinations of black hair and purple together, speaking from an honest place of desire. She liked that. I took out the things we would need, placed them next to the bed, then we sat down together. I suggested we sit facing each other, close, but not touching, close our eyes, and breathe together for a little while. My instincts told me that is what was best for her in that moment. It was nice to be there with her, concentrate on her, how it felt to be close to her, holding an intention to connect without sight or touch. I sighed, breathed a little easier and she did too.

“I like this,” Kit-Ting said.

It was a nice transition into eye gazing. I then offered her my open palms, which she accepted, scooted myself forward so that our knees touched, and looked into her dark chocolate brown eyes. I focused on her left eye and if it’s possible, set a desire to see her; the being inside her pretty-sexy physical body. I know it may seem cheesy to some and maybe it is a sweet delusion. And then again, maybe it’s something we all have lost touch with or were never taught. We lingered there for a bit, feeling. Then we moved so that she was leaning back against my chest. I cant tell you how nice it felt as she settled into place with me. The moment when her head found a comfy nook and was still.

I checked in to see if my hands were invited and she said yes. Wendy shifted in her seat by the bed. I cant remember how my hands moved over her exactly, but I do remember a gradual warming of her voice, her moans, the desire-burn in my center and in my erect penis pressing against the small of her back. I massaged her arms and shoulders before making my way to her firm and gravity defying breasts. I could only feel them through her bra, but I felt a lust surge with how surprisingly big and hard her nipples were. I asked if she was ready to undress and she nodded quickly, thanking me for asking her. I tossed her blouse behind my back and hit the chair by the door, and again with her bra, then my shirt. I said how remarkable, how flawless her skin looked and felt. Kit-Ting and Wendy started laughing a bit and admitted Kit-Ting was worried about how her shaved legs didnt turn out as perfect as she would have liked.

I remember her thighs opening and relaxing against mine. I gathered the fabric of the dress up in my hands and raised it toward her waist. Red thong panties. I paid close attention to her inner thighs with both hands. The red-wrapped round mound between her legs became too much to resist. I touched her there.  Kit-Ting had soaked her underwear all the way through. So much so that her slippery fluids had made a pool in the center of the satin fabric. I took both hands down and pressed against the slippery soft place in her creamy center and worked her gently, feeling her heat and fullness, her hard clitoris under three fingers of  my left hand and her fig’s opening with the right. Kit-Ting breathed, moaned, then began to thrust her chest out here and there. God that was hot. So spontaneous and natural to what her body wanted, is what I felt.

I brought my juice-coated fingers up, my palms around the sides of her breasts, wet fingers down and circling slowly against her nickel-sized nipples. The thought and sensation of her own thick slickness being used as lubricant for her nipple-play drove me further toward the beast in me. Kit-Ting’s groan-voice deepened some as she reached a new place in the moment as well. Those amazing nipples thickened and fought back against the pleasure by growing, then pressing back against my fingertips.

“I don’t think we need panties or my pants anymore do you?”

Kit-Ting giggled a bit and gave an exuberant yet feminine, “No!”

-Fin

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