FICTION
Cuff Links

By Kate Dominic
Excerpt from Any 2 People Kissing

Kelly’s Story

The rainbow flags almost tipped the facade off the building, but in that part of the Midwest, almost any gay bar that played good dance music became "mixed" pretty damn fast. I paid the outrageous cover charge and joined the sweating, gyrating sea of gay/lesbian/het-and-I-don’t-give-a-shit-what-you-are-so-long-as-I-get-to-dance bodies pulsating under the laser lights.

I’d had another long, rough week at my thoroughly crappy job. I wanted to dance. Maybe have a few drinks. Admire the scenery with no strings attached. I figured the drinks would help with that. I was still coming to terms with my attraction to women. I told my friends I was "bi-curious." In reality, it was more like bi-terrified. I liked men a whole lot. But I kept getting these gawdawful crushes on women--usually married ones. Then again, my ex-husband had been a married man, too. He just hadn’t bothered to tell me. By the time I’d paid off the attorneys to end that nightmare, I’d sworn off relationships for good. Well, except that I kept getting crushes on women.

Apparently, except on nights on which I’d paid an outrageous cover charge to meet women. After one quick dance with a woman who left me standing on the floor when her boyfriend came back from the bar, I suddenly found myself staring at the most attractive man I’d ever seen. We’re talking primal instincts here. He was short and slender, like me, though his biceps flexed noticeably when he lifted his drink. He wasn’t drop-dead gorgeous, just handsome in a graceful, artistic sort of way. But the overall impact had me squirming all the way down to my panties. His suit jacket was slung over his shoulder. Even though it was late in the evening, I figured he’d come here straight from work. His starched white shirt was still fairly pristine, his tie perfectly in place, and he was wearing gold cuff links.

I’d always had a thing for men in cuff links. They made me think of piercing and bondage, which I’d always secretly wanted to try. Which made me horny. Most people don’t wear cuff links anymore. But they seemed to fit this guy’s image--understated, but kind of commanding. His bright red hair was cut in a crisp crew cut. Not "red" like in punk-colored hair. I mean natural red, the kind that screams "Irish"--which matched the bridge of freckles across his nose. I shouldn’t have been eyeballing him closely enough to see that last little detail. I mean, I was in a gay bar. I doubted he was here to cruise me. But I figured if I was really discreet, he’d be so busy watching the shirtless guy in the blue nylon running pants dancing up on the side table that he wouldn’t notice me.

His eyes were a brilliant blue. I noticed that too late. He was smiling at me, his eyes wandering boldly down and back up my body. I blushed and looked away, shifting my weight from one foot to the other and studiously directing my gaze to the various small knots of women dancing together. I concentrated on trying to remember why I’d worn three inch heels when I knew damn well there’d be no place to sit down. I kept my eyes on the dancers even as Dream Guy walked over and stood next to me.

"The punky girl in the leopard print has great legs," he said casually, speaking just loudly enough for me to hear him as he nodded towards the dance floor. "I like the way her hair brushes her butt when she raises her arms."

Even over the music, his voice was nice. A smooth, easy tenor. Voices get to me right away. I concentrated hard on not shivering.

"She even makes her partner look like a great dancer." My eyebrows lifted, and he laughed, holding held his hands up in a gesture of surrender. "That wasn’t an insult. There aren’t many butches who can compete with these guys in a dance-off. She’s doing fine."

"She certainly is." I straightened my shoulders self-righteously. For some bizarre reason, I felt like I needed to defend Leopard Girl’s partner, even though both of them suddenly seemed to be looking daggers in our direction. There was no way they could have heard him over the throb of the music, not at that distance. But I was still uncomfortable. This was not turning into a good night to meet women.

"I’m sorry." The blue eyes sparkling over the rim of the glass seemed anything but repentant. "I’m accustomed to making observations about Erica and her many partners. We’re friends." He shrugged. "Or at least, we used to be." Something changed in his eyes as he spoke. He stepped back and motioned towards the bar. "I’m not a particularly good dancer myself. May I buy you a drink? The White Russians here are extremely potent, especially when Devon’s working the bar and watching his boyfriend at the same time." The gold rectangle at his right wrist flashed as he held out his hand to me. "My name’s Ron."

"Kelly," I said. "A drink would be fine." I tried to ignore the jolt of electricity that shot up my arm when our palms connected--and the equally strong echo that vibrated down to my belly. Ron put his hand on the small of my back and guided me through the crowd to the bar. I was glad I was in front of him, because I was blushing furiously at my reaction to the heat emanating from his fingertips, even through the light silk of my blouse. Bi-curious or not, I’d gone into full het mode for the evening.

Fortunately, the bartender was fascinating enough to distract me. A tall, black man with rippling muscles and a shaved head, he was pouring drinks without even looking at his hands. His eyes were glued to a raised table on the other side of the room, where the slender, shirtless young blond in blue nylon sweat pants was now gyrating lewdly, in perfect synch with the beat. Each time the young man thrust out his hips, whatever drink Devon was pouring overflowed.

"We’d better order quick. When the owner sees him, there’ll be hell to pay--as usual." Again the grin. Ron elbowed his way up to the bar and banged his glass down next to Devon’s hand. "Scotch, sweetheart--if you can tear your eyes away from your lover’s ass!"

Devon jumped and looked at Ron, his eyes unfocused, like he’d just been dragged out of a very pleasant dream. Then Devon stared, and his eyes got bigger. When he saw me, his eyes got huge and a grin split his face. He leaned over and whacked Ron soundly on the shoulder. "Long time, no see, buddy." He looked Ron up and down slowly. I wondered just how long it had been since they’d seen each other. "You’re looking good, my friend." The appraisal was appreciative, and frankly interested. "Very, very good, if you know what I mean."

"Thanks, Devon." Ron’s smile twinkled all the way to his eyes. "You’re looking good, too. And no doubt building up quite an appetite for that sweet young thing melting the table top out there." Devon looked up just as the sweet thing, now sporting an obvious hard-on, reached back and cupped his ass--and rolled his hips. Devon’s eyes were once more glued on his lover. He didn’t even seem to hear when Ron said, "I’ll have another Scotch and the lady will have a . . . ?" He nodded towards me.

"A White Russian," I said without thinking.

"My specialty," Devon muttered. He seemed to go on autopilot as he mixed the drink and slid it towards me. My "thanks" was lost in a gasp and I choked on what had to be at least half vodka. As a series of catcalls erupted beside me, Devon poured an overflowing shot into Ron’s glass and handed it to him.

"Damn, that boy’s good!" I covered my ears as Devon yelled out, "You go, sweetcheeks!" Then without missing a beat, and still without looking down, Devon reached out and pushed Ron’s wallet away. "Trouble coming," he said conversationally. "And this one’s on me, my friend. Good luck." I was surprised when Devon turned and winked conspiratorially at me. "With everything."

"Goddammit, Devon! Do you think I’m made of money? Watch what the fuck you’re doing!" A short, stout, sweaty man with slicked-back hair pushed his way behind the bar and grabbed the liquor bottle from Devon’s hand. "For godssakes, go fuck him in the john if you need to, but quit pouring my fucking profits down the drain!"

Devon and Ron exchanged a quick grin. "I’m on break, boss. Back in twenty." Devon’s look slid past Ron’s shoulder, then back. I had the odd feeling he was giving a warning. A second later, I turned to watch his gleaming black head bob off through the crowd. And I saw Leopard Girl moving towards us. She was obviously pissed. Ron’s fingers touched my back again, gently nudging me away from the bar.

Leopard Girl intercepted us. "Well, dear one. Don’t you look positively handsome." The words dripped venom. Ron’s fingers tightened almost imperceptibly on my back as she smiled nastily and patted his cheek. Then her hand turned and her fingers curled almost into claws, leaving light pink trails as they dragged along Ron’s jaw. I gasped and Ron stiffened, his hand fisting against me. But in almost the same breath, he slowly and deliberately unclenched his hand.

"Same icy control, I see." Erica spat out the words, but as she started to raise her claws again, her girlfriend grabbed her wrist.

"Leave it, Erica." Leopard Girl’s partner was dripping sweat from the long set, and her smile was no friendlier.

"Aptly put." Erica’s tone was vicious. As her girlfriend pushed her forward, Erica turned and tapped the side of my glass, just enough to spill some of the drink onto my hand. "I hope you have a very interesting evening." She turned and almost hissed at Ron. "You, too--grrrrlfriend." This time her partner shoved, and with an angry shake of her shoulders, Erica stomped off towards the bathroom.

"You have interesting friends," I said dryly. I wasn’t sure what the hell was going on, but when I turned to look over my shoulder at Ron, my back curved automatically against his arm. This time, I couldn’t hide my tremor at the heat of his touch. I took a deep breath and tried to smile. "Will I bore you if I’m shockingly ordinary?"

For a moment, Ron just stared at me, his eyes still flashing with suppressed anger. Then he laughed wearily, his arm tightening around me as he lifted his glass to his forehead and rested it there, like he needed the coolness of the condensation to settle his brain. When he spoke again, most of the anger was gone, replaced by resignation and a hint of sadness.

"I’m sorry, Kelly. Erica doesn’t like me very much anymore."

"I gathered." I reached down and ran my fingers along the side of his wrist, toying with the edge of the cuff link. "Any particular reason?" From this close, I could see the light, red gold evening shadow across his jaw. I wondered what it would feel like to run my fingers over the bristling stubble--how it would feel under my lips if I kissed him.

"She’s my ex," he sighed. As he turned his head, I could see that the pink marks Erica had made were almost gone.

"That makes sense," I smiled. "All exes are assholes." Without thinking, I leaned over and kissed him. I was just going to brush my lips against his, just a friendly kiss. But if Ron’s touch had been electric, his kiss was pure fire. I couldn’t think. I wrapped my arms around him, my drink tipping precariously in my hand, and lost myself in the heat of Ron’s mouth. His kiss was greedy and hungry, his tongue both soft and demanding as he licked the insides of my cheeks. I could feel the warm, firm strength of his chest where he held me, the gentle weight of his balls against my thigh were he pressed me to him. Ron’s kisses were more intoxicating than even Devon’s drink had been, and infinitely sweeter.

"Jesus," I whispered when we came up for air. I leaned heavily against him, breathing hard, relishing the strong, masculine beat of his heart and the exquisitely tender feel of his fingers moving over my back again. "For kisses like that, I can see why she’d give up girls for a while."

The flow of the crowd had pushed us gradually towards one of the support beams near the dance floor. I was vaguely aware of Ron taking my glass and setting it down next to his on the adjoining shelf. Then he lifted my face to meet his and smiled hesitantly. "Erica’s always been a dyke." When I opened my mouth, he shook his head and quickly added, "So was I."

It was a good thing Ron was holding on to me, because when what he was saying finally sunk in, I damn near fell over. Ron was a female-to-male transexual. He told me that when he had been with Erica, he, Ron, that is, who was named Sharon back then, had been a lesbian. Now he was just Ron, and he was a man, who he figured he'd always been, regardless of what his body used to be like, and he definitely still liked women. He kept the explanations simple, but it wasn’t long before my brain was reeling. Since he used to be Sharon, had I just kissed a woman for the first time? Even though, if I had, the woman I’d kissed was obviously a man? A masculine, sexy, and, if his kisses were any indication, a very horny man, whose touch made my pussy flutter and who felt so warm and so embarrassingly right in my arms that all I could think about was getting naked with him and fucking like weasels. I mean, I’d thought transsexual men would somehow still look feminine. Ron didn’t. Although he was short like me, he had beard stubble and biceps I could feel through his shirt and pecs rather than boobs, and he held my drink and stroked my back and did all the things a straight guy on the make was supposed to do. And his name used to be Sharon. And Erica hated him for maybe making her not a lesbian.

"I loved her, she loved a butch dyke. She’ll never forgive me for making the transition and, in her eyes, maybe making her straight." With his arm still around me, Ron stepped back to lean against the dance floor post. He picked up his drink again, swirling the dark amber liquid around the glass before he spoke. "I didn’t want to be treated like shit, so I left." He shrugged and handed me my glass. "Erica’s friends also got pissed at me for ‘selling out.’ They assured her I’d always been a bitch anyway."

"Were you?" Without thinking, I reached over and traced the outline of his knuckles with my fingertip. Ron had freckles on the backs of his hands, too. They stood out starkly against the creamy whiteness of his skin and the edge of his cuff. My mind could handle thinking about freckles.

"Was I what?" he smiled distractedly, turning his hand and rubbing his thumb lightly over mine.

"Were you a bitch?" I kept my eyes mostly on my hands, stroking lightly as I once more reached up to play with his cuff link. Bitchiness I could also understand.

Ron just stared at me for a moment, then he leaned back and hooted with laughter. "Yes," he laughed. "I was one helluva bitch, though these days, I’m usually called ‘assertive’ instead." He ran his tongue over the edge of his glass, his eyes sparkling. "Devon still calls me one, but we go way back. Besides, he’s so big, he can get away with calling people whatever he damn well pleases." Ron’s smile faded and he held my hand lightly in his. "Are you okay with this, Kelly?"

I wasn’t sure about even beginning to understand what was going on, much less having a clue what I thought. So I took the coward’s way out and stalled.

"Um, am I the first woman you’ve dated now?" Then I realized what I’d said and blushed furiously. "Not that it’s any of my business, of course. And I’m not trying to imply that we’re dating or anything. I mean, we just met, I don’t want to be putting any pressure on you, on either of us. . . ."

Ron shook my fingers as my voice trailed off. "I think we’ve got enough pressure without worrying about whether what we’re doing is a date, Kelly." Then he smiled. "But I’d like it to be." He reached up and stroked the side of my face. "I’ve been living in San Francisco for the past three years. I started taking testosterone and living as a man right after I moved there. I dated a lot." Again, the smile sparkled all the way to his eyes. "Celibacy has never interested me."

"Did you get involved with them after you had the surgery?" I felt my face flame, but resolutely took a swallow of my drink. As my throat burned, I wished it had been 90% milk rather than liquor so my head would stay clear.

Ron shrugged. "Both." At my raised eyebrows, he smiled again. "I’d always had small tits. Helped enormously with my butch dyke image. Hell, even Erica the Bitch appreciated that," He grinned. "Quick snip below my nipples, and the doctor suctioned out the excess fatty tissue. After that, between gym time and the hormones, my chest "passed" pretty quickly."

"But what about . . ." I blushed furiously and stared into my drink. "Never mind. That’s none of my business."

Ron cupped my cheek in his hand. "It is if you want it to be," he said quietly.

I leaned into his palm and closed my eyes for a moment. His touch was warm and strong and comfortable. Finally, I sighed and smiled at him. "I don’t know what I want. Hell, I came in here tonight because I wanted to find out if I really like chicks as much as I think I do. Now I find myself falling ass over tea kettle for a man who used to be a woman." I took one more swallow, made a face, and set the glass down for good. "Now I can’t figure out which one of us is straight, and which one is queer, or maybe we both are--or aren’t." I knew my smile was lopsided, but I was so confused. "You figure it out."

"Do we have to?" Ron took my hand again, kissed the back of my knuckle, turned my hand over and kissed my palm. "Maybe tonight, we can not think too much and just be us?"

We stood there for what seemed like a very long time, the throb of the music and the crush of body heat flowing over us like they weren’t even there. I felt almost like I was watching someone else in some kind of a dream. Except for where my hand rested in Ron’s, the hand with the gold cuff link at the wrist. Where my skin touched his, everything was startlingly real. None of it made much sense, but Ron’s fingers were warm and his touch was sexy. And being with him made me so incredibly horny.
"Erica is a bitch," I said decisively. I looked once more around the room, at the sea of sweating, dancing, and mostly on-the-make bodies. Then I squeezed his hand and said, "Your place or mine?"

The heat in Ron’s eyes made me squirm again. "I live two blocks from here," he said. When I nodded, he added, "Anybody you need to call?"

I closed my eyes for a moment, then I looked back up at him and shook my head. Not tonight. Tonight, it was pretty much all or nothing. I was pretty sure I wanted it all. "Let’s go."

Ron’s apartment was in the upstairs of a stately old Victorian. Whoever had done the conversion had paid a lot of attention to details--even the towel racks were authentic period pieces, and they hung over a claw-footed tub. Ron gave me the grand tour while I sipped some herbal iced tea. We ended up in the bedroom, which was taken up almost entirely by a queen-sized brass bed. Antique lace curtains fluttered in the cool breeze of the air conditioner. Ron hit the dimmer switch and we stood near the side of the bed, watching the diffused light from the corner streetlight fill the room with a pale, silvery glow.

"My great aunt Kay made the quilt." Ron moved in back of me and wrapped his arms lightly around my waist. "Her husband died in the Civil War. She spent the rest of her life making wedding quilts with her female companion." I shivered when Ron softly kissed the back of my neck. "I think being queer runs in the family." When I giggled, he trailed soft, wet, sucking kisses up the side of my neck. "We can neck on the couch if you like. But I’d rather see you in here, stretched out on my bed, with your hands over your head like you were tied." I tipped my head to give him access to more skin. He softly bit my ear. "I want to watch you grip the railings and scream when I make you come." I trembled, and Ron’s hand trailed up the side of my thigh--slipped under my tight spandex skirt. Without thinking, I spread my legs for him. He laughed quietly, his hot breath almost cool against my wet neck. Turning slightly, he slid his hand between my legs. I gasped when his fingers tickled over my clit.

"God, I love a hot pussy." Ron sucked my earlobe softly. I trembled again, moaning as he cupped my vulva and ground the heel of his hand over my mons. "Your panties are soaked, Kelly. If I take them off with my teeth, will you let me eat you until you scream?"

"Uh huh," I gasped. Ron was running his lips and tongue over the cord in my neck. Even through the wet silk, I could feel the heat of his fingertips in the unrelenting friction--feel the heat in his crotch where he ground his pelvis against my hip, heat and something hard poking me, not something big, but the way Ron thrust his hips against me was all man. I groaned and arched back against him.

With a short laugh, Ron turned me in his arms, and kissed me again. Possessively, this time, his hands on my waist, he held me to him hard, like he knew how hungry I was. I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him back ferociously. I ran my fingers through his hair, relishing the spiky feel of the stiff, gelled bristles under my fingers.

"God, I love crew cuts." I wiggled against him while he sucked my lower lip.

His fingers slipped between us. I felt his smile as he unbuttoned my blouse. His palms slid over my collarbone, slowly pushed my shirt off my shoulders. He cupped my breasts for just a moment, then unhooked the clasp between them. When they fell into his hands, he rubbed the nipples with his thumbs. I shivered and gripped his shoulders. Ron laughed softly.

"I love a woman with large, sensitive breasts." He pinched lightly. I jumped and the bra slid all the way down my arms. "Do you like that?" When I nodded, he pinched again, then again, harder and longer each time. I shivered at the sting of his fingernails. "Maybe someday you’ll let me clamp them." Ron bit my lip gently. "Let me tie you up and clamp your nipples with my pretty jewelry."

"Okay." I gasped. I arched into his hands, clenching my legs and rising up on my toes, my pussy quivering in response.

"Just like that?" He laughed. I gripped handfuls of his shirt and held on tight, panting against him as he added a wicked twist and my nipples burned. "You’d let me torture your nipples until they were sore and tender and so sensitive you wanted to cry?" He pinched again and I yelped. "Then you’d let me do it more, until I was licking the tears off your cheeks?"

I ground against him, wiggling my hips and thrusting my chest into his hands. "Unh huh." My pussy was throbbing,

"I’ll remember that, pretty one." He kissed tenderly down the side of my face. Then his hands were on the zipper of my skirt. His mouth returned to my lips and he shoved the tight fabric over my hips. My slip fell with it. I kicked off my heels as I stepped out of my skirt. Suddenly, I was three inches shorter. Ron laughed, cupping my backside through my panties.

"I like being taller than you." He kissed me quickly. "God, that’s so sexist. But it’s true." His tongue swept into my mouth and he kissed me again, this time possessively. "I like it a lot."

I liked it, too. Which made me blush. I mean, it’s so stupid for size to matter. I started wondering what else I was being sexist about without realizing about it. But I didn’t think too hard. Ron’s kisses were like fire shooting through my veins. I shook my head and whispered against his lips. "Remember, tonight we don’t have to think too much. We can be stupid sexists if we want."

Ron laughed, low and husky. I jumped when he slapped my butt.

"Keep your legs spread, sweetheart. I said I’d take your panties off with my teeth." The nibbles moved down my neck. "I’m going to work up an appetite, so I’m really hungry when I start sucking the pussy juice from that tiny scrap of silk."

I was already starving, and the things he said made me shiver even more. Ron kissed and sucked and licked his way down. I grabbed handfuls of his hair and held on for dear life. I tipped my head back and felt my own hair tickle across my back as the long, slow suckling on my nipples turned to sharp, hot stings that left me shuddering. Then Ron dropped to his knees and tongued my belly button. My giggle turned to a gasp when he nuzzled his face over my crotch. He inhaled deeply, pressing his nose into my clit. The sight of his thick, spiky red hair between my legs was just so incredibly sexy. Ron looked so strong and commanding, and so horny, and I could see those damn gold cuff links at his wrists where his hands held my legs firmly open.

"There is nothing in the world sexier than a sopping pussy." Ron’s tongue ravished me through the silk. I clutched his hair hard. Then he was sucking on my panties, sucking me through them. "Jesus, you taste good." He slurped loudly, tugging my panties out with his teeth. "I bet your juice tastes even better without these in the way."

I moaned as he kissed his way back to my pelvis. He took the elastic in his teeth. "If you shaved your pussy, I could pull your panties off just by tugging on your crotch."

"Okay," I gasped, shivering as the wet silk slid over my hips. Ron looked up at me and grinned, the edge of my panties in his teeth. He slowly dragged them off me.

"Lift your legs." The words were muffled in the silk. When I leaned on his head, he laughed and said, "One foot at a time." I blushed and obeyed. He turned his head and deposited my panties unceremoniously on top of my skirt. Then he grabbed my thighs and started kissing his way slowly and purposefully back up.

"Spread your legs, Kelly." I shivered as his tongue traced over my kneecap. "Open wide for me, so I can get a good grip on your pretty little clit." Ron’s hands pressed my thighs further open. His eyes locked on mine and stayed there, startling blue sparkles as he stuck his tongue out and swiped all the way up to my slit. I shook against him. He kept looking at me as he wrapped his open mouth over my mons and took me in a wet, sucking kiss. I felt like I was falling into his eyes. His tongue reached up through the heat of his open mouth and started flicking over my clit. I wondered vaguely if this was what it would feel like if a woman licked me. Then Ron rubbed his stubbled jaw up my slit, and my legs buckled.

"Oh, God," I gasped. His shirt brushed against my thighs and I fell back onto the bed. "I can’t stand up."

"Then lie down," he said roughly. Still kneeling between my legs, he pushed my shoulders firmly onto the soft cotton quilt. His face glistened with my juices as his hands slid back down my body. He pinched my nipples, twisting them hard. I cried out and arched towards him.

"That feels so good," I moaned, squirming frantically. When his hands finally moved lower, I took my nipples in my fingers and tried to imitate his motions. I tried one position after the other, hissing in relief when Ron pushed my hands out of the way and once more gripped my nipples.

"Do you want them clamped, Kelly?" Ron’s voice was gruff. "Say ‘yes’ and I’ll do it. But then you have to leave them on until you come."

Ron’s eyes were so brilliantly blue, so glazed with lust. He tugged my nipples up between his fingers and twisted again.

"Yes!" I tightened my knees against him, against the hard sides of his chest. I watched, mesmerized, as he took off a bright, golden cuff link and held the T-shaped back to the tip of my breast. The customized bars of the clasp were longer than I’d ever seen before. He pressed one arm of the T’s top over his finger, so the metal bar pressed flat against the shiny faceplate--so I could see how tightly the clamp fit together. When I shivered, he released the bar and pulled my nipple almost painfully out, until it was long and stretched and the tension hurt. With his eyes locked to mine, he pressed the clamp closed again, this time trapping my fleshy peak between the shiny golden bar and the smooth back of the rectangle. The sudden pain was so sharp and so intense, I gasped and writhed against the bed.

"Do you like that, Kelly?" he growled, scratching his nails over the throbbing tip.

"It hurts," I whispered. The clamp stung so badly my eyes burned with tears. And it made me so horny I arched my pussy up against his chest. Ron pressed back against me, his eyes glittering.

"But do you like it, pretty one?" He pulled the other nipple out and touched the flat gold face of the other cuff link to the tip, rubbing the smooth, cool metal over my trembling skin. "Do you want me to clamp this nipple, too, so they both hurt with how much you want to come?" He pinched, hard, and smiled when I shivered. "Answer me now, Kelly. Or I’ll stop."

"Yes!" I gasped. I watched in fascinated horror as Ron carefully positioned the second cuff link’s T. Then, his fingers slowly and purposefully pressed the bar closed. I cried out, bucking up against him again. He cupped the sides of my breasts in his palms, scratching his fingernails lightly over my ultra sensitized and now flaming sore nipples.

"You are so incredibly beautiful," he said softly. He leaned down and kissed the valley between my breasts, then slowly worked his way down. As he kissed over my pubes, he took a mouthful of hair between his lips and tugged. "Next time, I’ll shave your pussy," he kissed further down and licked the juncture of my groin. "Then you’ll squirm each time I lick your labia." I cried out as Ron sucked first one lip, then the other, into his mouth. "And maybe I’ll clamp your clit and fuck you. I’m real good with a strap-on."

My mind reeled with the images. Ron yanked my bottom to the edge of the bed and roughly lifted my thighs onto his shoulders. Then he once more buried his face in my cunt. "You’re drenched, beautiful. Nobody’s ever done that to you before, have they?" When I shook my head, he laughed wickedly. "I love first times. You’re slick and you’re sweet--and tonight, you’re mine." He lifted his head, his face once more glistening with my juices, and looked deep into my eyes. His finger slipped into me and I moaned, arching up to meet him as he pressed deep.

"Y-your clothes." My thighs rubbed frantically over the stiff, starched cotton of his shirt. It was hard to think. I felt so exposed, lying there with my naked pussy in his face while he was fully dressed.

Ron shook his head. "Later, babe. This time, it’s just for you. Be greedy for me."

It was getting so hard to think, and I didn’t really want to argue anyway. Ron’s mouth and fingers were driving me crazy. I was embarrassed at how much I liked what he was doing. Then his lips closed around my clit and slowly pulled up. I groaned and stiffened beneath him.

"Such a pretty clit, Kelly. I’m going to love making you come." Ron pulled the tiny hood back and started lashing the swollen nub with his tongue. As I writhed and whimpered beneath him, he slid one finger into me, then another, and another, until his thumb was stroking my labia and the crown of his knuckles pressed against me. His fingertips reached up into the quivering spot inside my cunt, his rhythmic thrusts making waves of pleasure wash closer and closer to the surface.

"Oh, honey, the things I could do to your pussy--the things I will do, another time."

I grabbed Ron’s head and held him close to me, moaning as my breasts moved and the cuff links burned. Then Ron started sucking me again, moving the prepuce over my clit while he fucked me with his fingers. My belly clenched, and I arched up against him, opening myself. Ron pushed into me once more, pressing up towards my belly button, rubbing deep and hard and mercilessly. The orgasm washed over me, and he sucked my clit into his mouth. I bucked up into him, screaming as my body contracted around his fingers and I shook and shook and shook against him.

I whimpered and pushed Ron off my over-sensitized clit, but I didn’t try to get away from his hand. He grinned at me, my juices dripping down his face as he leaned forward and kissed my pussy soundly. Then he slowly withdrew his fingers. He lowered my legs from his shoulders, giving my vulva one final pat before he scooted me fully onto the bed. As I smiled contentedly at him, he started working his tie loose.

"I want to fuck your face, Kelly." Ron yanked the tie over his head, then unbuttoned his shirt, pulling it free of his pants and working the now sweaty material over his shoulders. In just his stark, white T-shirt, his shoulders were even more muscular than I’d imagined, his upper arms bulging with muscles. With his eyes once more locked on mine, he pulled the tee over his head.

I was so dazed, I’d almost forgotten that I’d wondered what his chest would look like. The well-developed pecs were dusted in reddish-gold hair and looked surprisingly ordinary, at least for a gym-toned man like Ron. It took me a minute to realize his nipples were larger than I was used to, but that was because I was staring at the gold bars that kept them firmly erect. Without thinking, I licked my lips, then blushed as Ron laughed and stood up.

"I’ll take that as approval," he smiled. He hesitated just a moment, then unbuckled and unzipped his pants and let them fall. He worked his shoes off without bending down. When his feet were free, he put his hands in the waistband of his blue plaid boxers and slipped them down over his hips.

I wasn’t sure what I’d been expecting, but the tiny penis reaching up stiffly towards me wasn’t it. A thick foreskin covered the entire shaft, and beneath were two very ordinary looking balls hanging loosely in a very ordinary looking red-furred scrotum. Ron didn’t say anything, just stood there, watching me. After a moment he slowly stroked the ends of his fingers up his cock, pulling the foreskin over it, in a movement I’d seen damn near every man I’d ever been with do unconsciously when he was turned on and getting ready for sex. No matter what Ron’s parts looked like and who he might have been before, he was all man now. And he wanted to fuck. I smiled and lifted my hands over my head to grab the cool metal bars of the headboard.

"I like foreskin." I have no idea why I said it. That was the first thing that came to mind. But, well, I do, and Ron’s penis had a wonderful hood that I could hardly wait to feel beneath my lips. "And, um, it’s okay if you’d like to tie me. I think I’d like that."

Ron burst out laughing. He reached down and picked up his tie, quickly working the knot out. Then, still grinning, he climbed up onto the bed and straddled my waist. From that close, I could see a faded line beneath each nipple, flat against the wall of muscle beneath. But my attention was all on my own breasts. Ron again cupped the sides. This time, my nipples burned when his thumbs wiggled the clamps. I moaned loudly. It hurt so much and so good, and it was making my pussy throb so badly.

"Are you comfortable, Kelly?" When I nodded, Ron moved further up, keeping his knees beneath my armpits and carefully avoiding my nipples as he tied my wrists to the headboard. Then he was straddling my face, the musky aroma of his crotch filling my nostrils and the warm weight of his balls resting on my mouth. I licked, tasting him as I swirled the thick curly hairs with my tongue, wondering if that would be something he’d like. When he shivered, I smiled and settled in to washing the salt and sweat from every inch of his scrotum. He was slippery from the bottom up, his juice tangier than the precome I was used to. And there was so much more of it. His scent was so intense my nostrils tingled. When his skin was wet with my saliva, I gently sucked first one ball, then the other, into my mouth--back and forth, until he was panting.

"I’m going to fuck your mouth now, Kelly." Ron’s voice was husky with desire. He slowly lowered himself, the warmth of his balls brushing onto my chin. "Say ‘no’ if you don’t want me to. But unless you tell me to stop, I’m going to fuck my cock between your lips. And I’m going to do it now."

"Yes," I whispered, nodding. I gripped the railings tighter now. Ron slowly rubbed the underside of his penis over my lips. Without thinking, I opened my mouth and kissed it. He shuddered above me, then he held perfectly still, only his skin trembling as I opened my lips and slowly licked up his shaft. It was soft and silky, like the glans of any penis so aroused it was bursting free of its foreskin. I licked more, long and slowly, once again learning his taste. When he shuddered, I laid my tongue flat against the turgid flesh, washing the whole underside all at once. Then I carefully sucked his cock into my mouth, tugging ever so gently, with just the insides of my lips. Ron gasped and gripped the top of the headboard. As he trembled above me, I slowly and methodically slid his wonderfully loose foreskin back and delicately teased just the tip of my tongue over his extraordinarily sensitive penis. Then I started sucking--very, very gently.

Ron shook so hard the whole bed moved. He squatted down further, so I couldn’t move my tongue or my mouth, so I was only lightly sucking his foreskin back and forth over the sensitive flesh below.

"Hold still," he gasped. "I’m going to fuck you, and I want you to just keep your mouth tight around me and suck gently, just the way you are now. Will you do that for me, Kelly?"

I nodded, smiling even though I knew he couldn’t see my lips. I held perfectly still as Ron started fucking my face. His head was thrown back, his face drawn up almost in a grimace, the muscles in his arms and chest rippling as his hips thrust violently against my face and his penis got stiffer, harder and stiffer beneath my lips, as it slid in and out and in and out of the tight, wet suction of my mouth. Then Ron stiffened. He leaned harder into me, I don’t think he even realized how hard, because his breath was short and his body shook, thrusting harder and faster and faster.

"Suck my cock," he gasped hoarsely. "Suck my cock. I’m going to come!"

I did. He yelled, grinding forward into me, shaking so hard the headboard rattled as he pressed his pelvis into my mouth. My tongue and lips cradled his penis, and I sucked gently and rhythmically until he pushed away from my face and leaned back, gasping for air.

When he finally opened his eyes, he grinned shakily at me. His face was still flushed, his chest heaving as he slid off to the side. He lay down beside me and kissed me, his tongue sliding into my mouth, probing me again. I shivered happily as his hand once more pressed unexpectedly into my cunt. I was so intent on kissing him, I didn’t notice his other hand moving. With no warning, he snapped the cuff links off, one right after the other. I arched up into him, screaming as flames shot through my nipples and his fingers sank deep into me. I came again, this time in slow pulsing waves that lasted until I was almost crying.

Ron yanked the tie loose and rolled over, pulling me onto his chest. I snuggled close, my nipples sore but almost purring against him as he tenderly stroked my hair. A moment later, Ron was snoring. I refrained from making another sexist comment and fell asleep in his arms.

Excerpted with permission from
Any 2 People Kissing
By Kate Dominic
(Down There Press, 2003, ISBN: 0-940208-28-8)
208 pages, softcover $12.50
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