Between the wine-glass conversations of critics and artists, I followed Kira through the art gallery. I watched the way she closed her eyes when she sipped from her champagne glass, how she tilted her head sideways when examining a painting, nodding slightly as though someone were telling her insightful facts about the work. But she didn't need anyone to tell her about art. A superb painter in her own right, she'd just returned from a summer program at the Chicago Art Institute and in two days was due back at school in Massachusetts to begin her senior year of undergraduate studies. We'd been casual friends since high school, and there'd always been a mutual attraction told in stories of glances and light flirtations. But strings of significant others had always gotten in our way. Now, both of us had been single for months: there was nothing holding us back. And we both knew it.
Mandy, who'd invited us to the opening, came up to us, said she had to cut out and asked if I could give Kira a ride home. Mandy was always inviting people to artsy events during summer and winter breaks, and she was always leaving early, usually to go hang out with other friends at coffee shops and bars. In the past it had annoyed me. Tonight I'd been counting on it.
"No problem," I said, then turned to Kira.
"Fine with me," she said, her face unreadable, but her big, glistening eyes studying me as though I were a canvas to be picked apart, analyzed and eaten alive. I felt myself grow hard with that incisive gaze. I tried to cover it up with my gallery program when Mandy glanced down at my pants -- I was certainly pitching a bit of a tent.
Not a minute after Mandy left, Kira said, "Mark, this show sucks."
I laughed.
"Let's get out of here," she said.
I froze as she took my arm and dragged me out of the gallery. The force of her will always surprised me when we hadn't seen each other in a while. In the past women had been forceful with me, but it'd never been arousing the way it was with Kira. The others had done it for fun. Force was the very essence of Kira.
Sure that we were headed straight to one of our places to satisfy our long-denied lust, I started to head toward the garage where my car was parked. But Kira wanted to toy with me. She led me through the warm August air laced with scents of kettlecorn, roasted almonds and hot dogs that wafted from the stands set up in the plaza outside. There were couples making out on benches and on the edge of a pluming fountain, and Kira stopped to watch the fountain's centerpiece: a group of naked cherubs frolicking around a tree, water shooting from mouths and from behind strategically placed leaves. I turned to look at Kira and found her intently watching the sculpted scene as though the stone angels were actually dancing. She gave me a sidelong glance and that irresistible half-smile I'd fallen in love with over the years.
The sudden blast of a kazoo knocked us out of our reverie. At the far end of the plaza stood a makeshift circus tent. An open pane displayed a childish backdrop painting of a city that reminded me of scene from a Dr. Seuss book. Kira's fingernails dug into my arm, and she pulled me toward the tent as a pair of hand puppets popped up onto the makeshift stage. Delicious fire coursed through my arm and arced down into my tightening groin. Again I tried to hide the bulge in my slacks using the program I'd taken from the gallery. To my surprise, Kira took hold of the program and wrested it from my hand, but not before brushing it lightly over the front of my pants, sending lightning through the length of my shaft. I looked at her to see if she'd done it on purpose, but she was staring and grinning at the puppet show beginning before us. She was enjoying this.
A small crowd gathered around the tent as the puppet show, little more than a fight between a French policeman and a scruffy dog, began. Kira stood right in front of me, her short dress swishing when she laughed at the silly antics. Just as I was beginning to lose hope and my erection in the competing attention of the show, I found Kira pressing her ass against me. A moment later and she wasn't just pressing, she was grinding it as though trying to embrace my rod with her ass cheeks. She leaned back against me, her perfume and scented shampoo making me dizzy. Taking this as a clear sign, I placed my hands on the white cardigan she wore over her dress to keep warm, and gently squeezed her shoulders. Immediately her hands flew to mine and whisked them off her body. She spun around, and I was half-afraid she was going to slap me.
Instead, she grabbed my arm and led me through the giggling crowd as the scruffy dog whacked the French policeman over the head with a stick.
"Where's your car?" she said, but it was more of an order than a question - a command to take her there at once. I eagerly obeyed, and soon we were racing out of the garage in my little sedan. I didn't even take my change after I paid the parking attendant, which made Kira laugh.
On the way to her house, she leaned across me to press all the window switches. As four panes of glass slid down, wind blasted through the car and sent Kira's long, sandy blonde hair flying, blinding me while she kept her head dangerously close to my throbbing lap. My heart pounding with lust and panic at not being able to see the road, I swept aside her hair with my hand and swerved back into my lane. Somebody honked. Kira giggled.
"Be careful, Mark," she said, scratching my thigh with her fingernails. With a finger, she traced a line up my left leg, then reached up to the other side of the wheel and pressed the moon-roof button. Her hair danced into disarray again as the night exhaled into the car. August air and streetlight and the brightest of stars stirred up the soaking whirlwind of feminine aromas.
I sped up. Kira giggled again. She thrust her arms up through the moon roof and clapped at the air like a woman gone wild, a Maenad intoxicated by the heat of the season.
After pulling into her driveway and closing the windows, I was about to get out and go around to open her door when she put her hand on my cheek and turned my head to look at her. I heard a click and glanced down at her hand wrapped around the emergency brake handle. She was flicking the button playfully and running her fingers up and down the lever. When she moved closer, I leaned in to kiss her, but she put a hand on my chest and roughly pushed me back against the door. I loved it.
"I hope you're this hard for me," she said, squeezing the emergency brake.
I moved in to prove it to her. She sat back in her seat as I pressed my lips against hers. Her hands immediately clawed at my hair, and I pushed my tongue deep into her mouth. Kira's kissing was fierce, her tongue darting and coiling like a snake. I ran one hand up and down her spine, using the other to tickle her breasts through her cardigan. She moaned, then pushed my hand down to her legs. Heat surrounded my hand as I ran my fingers up her smooth thigh and beneath the fold of her dress. Her panties were warm and damp, and her kissing slowed and intensified as I tickled her soft mound through the fabric. She pushed closer to my fingers, so I increased the pressure, found the wettest spot on her lingerie, gently poked her. Suddenly her tongue was deep in my mouth, her mouth surrounding mine, threatening to swallow me alive.
I didn't realize how hard I was until her fingernails brushed my cock through my pants. She pressed down on the fabric around my dick, bringing out its shape in sharp relief, sculpting it. Forming a half-cylinder with her hand, she began rubbing it slowly. In response, I pulled aside her panties and caressed her moist, tender pussy lips. She scratched my back and groaned into my mouth, but when I began to probe her cunt with a finger, she grabbed my arm and pulled my hand out of her dress. I looked at her, hoping I hadn't gone too far, but she was beaming as she pulled me toward the passenger seat.
Before I knew it, the seat was completely reclined and I was lying on my back. My slacks and boxers were down at my knees, leaving my cock exposed and standing at attention. I noticed the windows were completely fogged up, and I hoped her parents or any passersby wouldn't be curious enough to take a closer look. She clambered over to the driver's seat to lean in over my crotch. With light flicks of her fingers and tongue she teased my stiff shaft, all the while looking up at me to study my reaction. I needed her to touch it, suck it, anything. She was driving me crazy, and she knew it.
Suddenly her mouth was upon me. I watched her head slide slowly down over my cock, enclosing it in sultry heat all the way to the hilt. But that was all the satisfaction she allowed me. She took her mouth away, then crept through the car like a spider to situate herself over my face. Her dress dropped around my head like a curtain, and her musky scent whispered through me as she lowered herself onto my face.
"Lick me, Mark," she ordered. "Lick me now."
I happily obliged, working my tongue around her underwear and into the rolling folds of her labia. Amazed at how wet she was, I savored her honey with my tongue and lips, switching between the hard knob of her clit and the delicate petals of her inner warmth. She moaned with pleasure above me and scratched a hand through my hair, pulling it against her, using it to pleasure herself. Soon her moisture soaked my lips, chin, even my nose, and when she crawled back down over my body I made no move to clean my face of her nectar, which, judging from the smile on her face, pleased her. I wanted her heady bouquet to stay with me, and so did she.
Kira reached into her purse sitting on the floor and pulled out a small package. A minute later my rod was sheathed in a blue condom decorated with swirling yellow patterns that reminded me of Van Gogh's "Starry Night." Considering who I was with, it would not have surprised me if that's what it was. Tossing the plastic package aside, Kira reared up before me like a lioness. In the orange light of the streetlamps diffused by the misted windows, she looked as though she'd been splashed with fiery paint.
She stroked my cock a few times before lifting her dress and moving forward to straddle me. After sliding me into position and pulling her panties to the side, she slowly sank down on my pole, gasping as my engorged member burrowed into her. She was tight, but as wet as any I'd ever experienced, and it only took a moment before I was buried inside her. We both moaned. My hands immediately flew to her chest, squeezing and fondling with amateurish haste. I realized this and so slowed my movements to deliberate, circular strokes around the erect nipples straining through her dress. Kira smiled, rewarded me with a quick squeeze of her lovemuscle, which sent tingles into my groin and balls and elicited from me a soft groan.
As she began moving on top of me, I pulled off her cardigan, then slid aside the straps of her dress. She obliged, wriggling her arms out of the straps to reveal a black bra that shone in the soft light of the mercury-vapor streetlamps. I reached behind her to undo the pesky harness and was rewarded with a pair of beautiful breasts I'd spent years imagining. They were medium-sized and perky, the areolae large and the nipples rock hard. I tried to sit up in order to suck on those luscious tits, but she pushed me back down and tightened herself around my staff with the skill only an experienced lover could possess. Although my jealousy had raged over the years listening to her tell tales of various boyfriends and romantic interludes, now it excited me that she was a bedroom veteran.
I began thrusting to complement her circular movements, spreading and stretching her open with my ever-hardening shaft. She cried out. I moved my hands down beneath her skirt to caress her ass while we moved. Suddenly she stopped, and again I froze, terrified she was going to change her mind about the whole thing. But she nuzzled her face against my neck, nibbled it, ran her tongue up to my ear, gave it a bite. She breathed into it nervously.
"I don't want us to be shy, Mark." Kira's voice was heavy, sultry, sweltering like I'd never heard it before. It felt wonderful to be discovering this new side of her. "I want you to do something for me. Something I was too afraid to ask the others. I saved it for you."
"What do you want me to do?"
Like any true artist, instead of telling, she showed. Her hand closed around mine still gripping the smooth cheek of her ass, and she moved it toward her crack, selected my middle finger as though choosing just the right paintbrush for the stroke she had in mind, and pressed it onto her tight bud. Thrilled with the discovery of Kira's dirty desire, I fingered the puckered, resistant hole, probed gently with my fingertip.
"Yes," she groaned. "Finger my ass. Stick it in, Mark. Fuck my asshole with your finger."
Not wanting to hurt her, I caressed her wet bush for some moisture, then set about lubricating her tight hole. She licked her fingers and added to the natural lubricant. "Now do it," she ordered, and pressed on my finger to get to work.
My finger still met some resistance, and I had to wiggle it to loosen up that eager flower. Kira's gasps of pleasure kept me going, and soon I was finger-fucking her hot anus. Then she resumed riding my cock, clenching it with her wet pussy, squeezing it, milking it.
"Oh yes, Mark. Do you like that? Do you like fingering my ass while I fuck your dick?"
I moaned in reply, but that wasn't what she wanted. She grabbed me by the chin. "Do you like it?" she hissed.
"Yes!" I cried back.
"Say it!"
"I love fingering your ass!"
Satisfied with my response, Kira smiled and groaned. She seemed to get wetter and wetter around me, painting me with her juices. Her ass swallowed more and more of my finger, forcing me to lean forward to suckle her jiggling breasts. Realizing I was about to come, I felt around for something to hold onto and squeezed tight.
"Oh God!" she cried, her strokes becoming more precise, more deliberate as she neared completion of a masterpiece years in the making. "Oh God!"
The light in the car seemed to shift around us as I exploded inside her, shot my cream into her starry night, and the world seemed to slide around us, sending shadows and light dancing over Kira's pale skin.
"Yes!" Kira cried. "Don't stop!"
Her fingers were in my mouth and all over my face. Her hair hung wildly around her head like a Dionysian tangle of vines, and her face was poised in that precarious expression before orgasm, mouth open, eyes closed. I thrusted with every ounce of energy I had left, pounded into her, and she slammed her hands into the roof of the car to push all her weight down on me.
"Take it out!" she screamed excitedly. "Your finger!"
I pulled my finger out of her ass, and the entire car lurched. Kira came with soft, shuddering cries of ecstasy, each one an exquisite pose for any artist: painter, sculptor or photographer. Her body rippled as she ground against me. Liquid warmth surrounded me, filling my mind with images of a painting melting in rain.
After a moment, she collapsed on top of me with a tremendous exhale. I kissed her cheek, tasted the salty pigment of sweat, and she responded by parting my lips with her wet, luscious tongue.
We lay there for what must have been several minutes, our breathing gradually slowing, and I was just beginning to doze off when a car honked. Sitting up we found a car blasting its headlights through the fogged-up passenger window. I realized that in the orgasmic confusion I'd grabbed hold of and released the emergency brake. The world really had moved -- we'd drifted backward down the driveway and into the street! Luckily it was a rarely used avenue, and we'd stopped at the curb between two parked cars on the opposite side. We both laughed as I made my way over to the driver's seat, started the car, and drove back up her driveway.
I all but begged Kira to stay with me in the car for a while. Unfortunately, her parents expected her home and in bed by a certain time -- "Curfew for a college student?" she scoffed. So we said and kissed good night, and I watched her walk up the steps to her front porch and vanish into the shadows.
...
Kira and I saw each other every day until she went back to school, and, eager to expand our vehicular experiences, we made plans for a road trip during her October break. I'm looking forward to her digging her fingernails into my skin. I'm looking forward to her pulling me around and pinning me down where she wants me.
I'm looking forward to more starry nights.
***
Originally published August 2005 - "Sultry, Sexy Summer"