Living in a college town in the South is my ideal lifestyle, at least while I am still young. Of course, I graduated from a big university several years ago, but the atmosphere of college life still attracted me when I made my decision where to live. I have settled down in the arts district of downtown, replete with the bohemian air and mix of cultures that congregate near centers of learning. In some ways, I don't think I have changed much since I graduated. Sure, I've worked job after job, never for very long at any one place of employment. I don't seem to be able to stay satisfied with the same environment for too long.
I am the same way in relationships. I dated in high school and college and enjoyed myself a lot, but was careful to never get too attached to any one person. The old cliché about the typical male fear of commitment seems to apply to me.
My one room apartment, upstairs from a furniture store, is affordable and easy to maintain. I have a futon bed to sleep on, a stove, a refrigerator and a sink for the times that I don't eat out, and an old armchair that I found at a consignment shop. I spend a lot of time, when not working, frequenting a coffee house right across the street. A good jolt of java really puts me in the right frame of mind, and I have become sort of a regular at Joe's. The place is a popular hangout with the college crowd, and I have found myself getting to know quite a few of the intellectuals, artists, and musicians that show up for their daily dose of caffeine.
The type of woman that hangs out at Joe's tends to be the unkempt kind of female that never seems to be in the mood for too much male attention. I had made several attempts to connect with a few and at least get a phone number but I must not have been presenting my most attractive side, for none of the women went for the bait. Still, I kept my hopes up that someone would appear on the scene that could change things.
That person eventually did appear. Last Tuesday, I was stopping by Joe's in the morning for a donut and coffee before walking the five blocks further downtown to a paint store, where I needed to pick up a can of white latex paint to touch up my bathroom door. I had just left my tip on the counter when the door swung open and in from the sun came Melanie. She was wearing sunglasses that obscured her face, but I was not at all disappointed by the figure she wore underneath the shadow of her shades. Standing five feet, two inches tall in flats, Melanie cut a petite figure, but there was a chiseled look to her body which made me look twice. She was wearing a halter top and a pair of jeans that accentuated her subtle curves. We passed each other as she approached the counter and something made me take a detour to the restroom to check my reflection in the mirror before coming back out. She turned, coffee cup in hand, and met my smile with a smile of her own. Not knowing quite how to break the ice, I guessed, "You're a student here?"
She told me that yes she was and how did I know? Continuing before I could answer, she mentioned a communications major and graduation in May before I even had realized that we had sat down together. The conversation naturally turned to the social scene and she casually mentioned that she wasn't seeing anyone at the moment. Taking my time, I waited until she asked me if I was involved with anyone to reply that no, I was unattached. She took off her sunglasses and folded them in one hand while her other hand caressed her brown hair. Her blue eyes caught mine and I decided to take a chance.
"Are you doing anything tonight?" I asked. I am generally a person to put my impulses into words before acting on them, and I found myself really drawn to her quick smile and easy disposition.
"Well, no...I just turned twenty-two on Saturday and I still haven't celebrated it yet."
"How about I take you out to dinner at the grill tonight at eight, Melanie?" I asked gently.
"Sure, Harry, I'd like that." Melanie grinned. "I'll see you here at eight."
After we parted and I was so excited I could hardly remember walking to the paint store and back. My feet took me there ever distracting my mind from Melanie's sexy body and nice smile. I knew if I could get my hands on her, then she and I would discover just what we could do together. Was I ever right about that.
Later, I realized I needed to take a shower to wash the paint off my body. I had difficulty not masturbating while enjoying the hot, steamy water play over my body, images of Melanie dancing in my head. I focused on the evening before me. I decided to ask Melanie before buying her a birthday gift. Sometimes women don't like to be given gifts too soon in a relationship, as they feel it obligates them. I put on some comfortable clothes, got a beer from the fridge, and waited while reading my favorite automobile magazine. Eight o'clock arrived and Melanie and I met at Joe's. The grill was only four doors up the street, so we walked together as the light faded. We both ate well and drank a little too much before heading back toward Joe's.
Standing in the parking lot, I took in the sight of Melanie, with the moonlight playing against her, and I knew I had to make the next move.
"Melanie, I keep a small room right across the street and if you want we can go up and you can look around."
"You know, Harry, I think I'd like that a lot," Melanie answered shyly.
We took the stairs to the second floor, and I unlocked the door and swung it open to let her in. She gazed about the small but comfortable confines of my apartment, and, seeing the balcony, decided to step out. I joined her and we tilted our heads back to enjoy the stars. Her hand reached for mine and instantly I pulled her to me and kissed her on the mouth. Her lips were wet as she searched mine with a tongue that seemed as curious as she was.
I pulled from her slightly and asked her, "Is there anything I can get you for your birthday, Melanie?"
"Oh, I think there is something you could give me," she hinted.
"Melanie, are you a virgin?" I asked.
Melanie smiled shyly, "Actually yes, I am."
"Do you want to do something about that?"
"Well, Harry, I'm not sure. What did you have in mind?"
Drawing her closer, I whispered, "You have an incredible body, Melanie. That body has been given to you for your pleasure, and I want to give you that pleasure."
Melanie's eyes widened. "Do you really mean that, Harry?"
"Sure I do, Melanie. Hold my hands and look at me. What we will be doing together takes a lot of trust, and you have to be sure you are ready for it."
In reply, she pulled me back into my apartment and down onto my futon bed. She covered my lips with her mouth and slowly sucked against them until I knew she was ready. I couldn't help thinking that this was the chance of a lifetime to help her learn the skills every woman should know.
Melanie was wearing a red vest, a black skirt to her knees, and black sandals. It was warm in my apartment and her face was flushed. She wore an expression of childlike wonder, her blue eyes seeming bigger than they really were. Her brown hair was pulled back with barrettes, so I suggested she let it down to let me see her. She took off the barrettes and her shimmering brown hair cascaded to her shoulders. She took off her sandals and stretched her feet out in front of her. Her toenails were pedicured and painted sparkly blue. I asked her to lie back and relax while I guided her in some massage.
Starting with her feet, I traced my fingers over her skin, past her ankles and up her firm legs. Reaching her dress, I lifted the hem and rubbed my hands further up her thighs until she sighed and squirmed. Spreading her legs, she murmured, "Yes, Harry." I reached her white cotton panties and felt her getting excited. My light touch seemed to be having a pleasurable effect on her.
I leaned over her and slowly unbuttoned her vest and opened it. Her chest arched and I slipped the vest down over her shoulders and off of her body. I could tell she was excited, because her nipples were turgid against the white, lacy bra. Her breasts were small, but firm. I lightly skimmed my fingertips across them as I traced lines from her neck, down over her shoulders, around the curve of her breasts and over her belly. My hands fell upon her dress and I unfastened the top of it. She lifted her rear and the soft fabric slid down her legs. I laid it on the floor next to her vest and sandals. Eyes closed, she stretched her compact little body and smiled languidly as she felt my hands on her.
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