Gay Erotic Stories

As I shut off the water to my bathroom sink, my ears suddenly catch the sound of a female talking. On impulse, I dry off my hands, turn off the light, and cautiously pull out the tiniest lower-left corner of the bed sheet curtain, which covers the window. Following the direction of the talking rightward toward the length of my apartment, my eyes land on an attractive, radiant, lightly tanned pair of legs and thighs belonging to a young woman sitting on a chair next to the north staircase. Her left thigh, toward me, is crossed over the other. She is wearing short blue denim cutoffs, a long, blue, un-tucked pastel shirt, wide-framed glasses, and has straight, medium brown, shoulder-length hair. Talking with her, to her right, is a more full-bodied woman with short, sandy-brown hair who I guess to be in her mid-thirties.

I decide to go back into my main room and fetch my bottle of Probe from the second drawer in my dresser. Then I grab the wadded-up, matted hand towel and scurry back into the bathroom.

I close the door, pull down my pants, open the bottle, and coat my left palm with the lubricant. I begin to stroke my penis while cautiously opening the sheet again. My attention is completely focused.

This time, the girl’s thighs are flat on the chair. It doesn’t matter; those thighs are still long and beautiful. But I have nowhere near an erection. The uncertainty of the situation is more potent than my lust for her was. I’m afraid I won’t climax before she gets up and leaves. I futilely try to relax, striving for any kind of enjoyment of this girl. Her face is turned slightly away from me as she sits more to her right, talking thoughtfully to her companion. As much as I stroke away, concentrating on the lubricated friction and on this attractive, young woman, I’m so limp it’s pathetic. But then, she begins to rub the top of her left thigh and down the back of her calf firmly. As a result of this sight, my arousal intensifies by leaps and bounds. I have a mild orgasm on a limp erection. She crosses her left thigh again.

I withdraw from the curtain, half way satisfied. I could have been fully erect and experienced a more intense orgasm. I remind myself, however, that I could have been even more dissatisfied with the scenario.

After drying off my hand and zipping up my pants, I look through the window some more, curious, to see if she’s still sitting out there. My stomach tightens. Walla: the young lady now has both feet up on the chair and is holding her knees in her arms. Those thighs are gorgeous.

Finally becoming tired of watching them, I leave my bathroom. I am mildly optimistic, thinking of the possibility that she will sit out there again. So much so that I am barely able to focus attention on my more important goal of getting started on my first journal for my ethics class at SPJC.

The following morning of Wednesday, as I enter my apartment building, that brunette is the one person I look for. Nope. I didn’t really expect to see her. However, I do see the older woman enter the apartment at about nine o’clock in a white uniform as I am changing out of my work clothes.

On Thursday, at ten AM, as I am changing into clothes for my class, I hear and see the woman sweeping the walkway. The younger girl may only have visited that one time – an exception.

On Friday, at about four o’clock, she is sitting on a chair right outside her door. Resolved that the girl was just there for a day, I decide to stop watching #7. I concentrate my energies, instead, into working on my outline for my major research project in Ethics.

Then, three weeks later at a quarter till two, Saturday afternoon on the 26th of September, I hear radio music issuing softly from outside as I take a leak. Strong curiosity…

After quickly finishing up, I go over to the window. Parting the sheet with my right index finger, I look between two narrowly opened blinds to see a lawn chair occupied by a radiant, bikinied sunbather.

Immediately, my stomach tightens up, I exhale hard, and feel a surge of heat fill me overwhelmingly. I go to grab my bottle of Probe, trembling with excitement, wondering if this is the same girl. I am almost terrified of her getting up and leaving. I also reach over to grab my towel off the table.

In less than a minute, I am back at the window, frantically lubing up my penis. I feel my heart pounding inside my chest. I open the sheet and continue to look at the sunbather. The blinds quiver and squeak as my left index finger nervously holds them up. She is situated facing right (my four o’clock position), from my point of view, wearing a black bikini and reading a paperback. On the grass, visible on the other side of her chair, is a portable radio. A light-blue body towel covers the chair. Her shoulder-length brown hair suggests to me that she’s very likely the same woman I’ve been watching the walkway for these past several days. But she’s not wearing the glasses that I remember. She possesses a wide, deep navel and medium-sized breasts inside a partially covering bra. Her skin (tanned and pale areas) is lusciously clear and without a blemish. I quickly get an erection, stroking away to the sight of her.

As I soak up the sight of her slender body and serene expression, I continue to wonder in earnest, if this is that same woman I saw upstairs those three weeks ago. Her left leg remains crossed over the right one. She doesn’t appear the slightest bit restless. That must be a good book she’s reading.

In five minutes, I climax strongly.

After wiping off my hand on my towel, I pull up my underwear and pants. I then continue to watch (who could be) my neighbor sunbathe, this time out of pure curiosity and appreciation.

She now has both her feet up on the lawn chair, affording me an even better view of her thighs and bikinied groin as she continues to read her paperback. I watch her for another ten minutes. Then I decide to go into the main room to check the time on my watch. It is a quarter till two. I put my watch on and return to the bathroom.

This time, her left leg is back down on the grass while her right foot remains on the lawn chair. It almost looks like she’s posing, with her groin still well revealed below the chair’s armrest. I feel lust returning once again. My groin begins to pulsate. I can practically taste a second opportunity.

I pull down my pants and underwear again, squirt out some more Probe, and masturbate a second time. Naturally, it takes me about twice as long. My anxiety returns over the possibility that she could get up and leave, having had enough sun, returns. But since it could be weeks or months (or never again) until I see her like this, I feel I must take advantage; the opportunity is here and now. I stroke away sensuously, concentrating on the moment – on her side profile, her long legs and thighs, and her concentrating face as she reads.

She shifts leftward and leans over to pick up her portable radio. With the radio on her lap, she spends a couple of minutes rotating the tuning dial. She then sets it on the right side of the chair, adjusts the antenna straight upward, then crosses her right leg over the left one. I heat up immensely as a result of this sight. It is her best position yet. She continues to read. I climax in two more minutes, with half the strength of the first orgasm, but almost as much pleasure.

I continue to check my watch every few minutes; every five to ten minutes, she changes all her familiar positions. Again, I enjoy them all, now calmer than when I first saw her. She really seems to want a honest-to-goodness sun basking.

Finally, at twenty till three, she gets up from the lawn chair, folds it up (towel still intact) and takes it in her left hand. She lifts up her radio by its handle with her right hand and proceeds, barefoot and only in that black bikini, toward the north staircase of my building. Is she the one? I watch intently rightward, feeling my optimism lift like an elevator. Yes: she leisurely ascends the staircase, grasping the rail with her right hand, with each right step taken. After five strides, she opens door #7. She slowly steps inside and closes the door behind her; I get one last glimpse of her attractive face in the dimness.

I slowly withdraw from the window and close my eyes serenely.

“Thank you, God,” I whisper slightly. I stand peacefully in my bathroom for a moment, relaxing a bit, feeling happier than I’ve ever been.

The following Monday, after taking the mail out of my box in the alcove below my staircase, I examine the row of boxes out of curiosity. I search along them until I come to #7: ‘Jackie Amis’ is hand-written, with ‘Stephanie Woodrows’ written underneath it. Since I’ve seen the other, plumper woman come out more often, I assume her to be Jackie and the less visible, Stephanie.

During the next two weeks, I see no sign of Stephanie.

By chance, we finally meet at the top of the stairs, near my efficiency, on Monday the 12th of October 1998, at about 5:15 in the afternoon. I am ascending the steps while Stephanie strolls along the rail, heading toward me, with her right hand leisurely skimming its edge. She is wearing a pink, short-sleeved shirt of yarn and a short, stringy pair of blue denim cutoffs. She smiles at me curiously.

“ Hay, Stephanie,” I greet her with as much nonchalance as I can muster, reaching the top of the stairs, hoping to surprise her.

“Hi, Tom,” she replies, smirking at me. My reaction is one of pleasant surprise. Instead of turning rightward toward my apartment, as I normally do, I linger while smiling warmly at Stephanie. She smiles curiously and warmly back to me.

“ Poking around someone’s mailbox?” I ask charmingly.

“I should be asking you that,” Stephanie replies the same way.

I feel a bond between us immediately. We come up closer to each other without shaking hands. Then we stand comfortably against the rail and continue to regard one another. Stephanie places her right hand back on the top of the rail.

“You just here while going to school,” I ask, openly curious.

“I don’t know how long I’m going to be here,” Stephanie replies with pleasant uncertainty. “I am in classes right now, and I can’t beat the price here,” she shrugs. “I pay half and Jackie pays half.” Stephanie pauses. “ How long’ve you been here?” she asks curiously.

“Four years. And you?” “Almost a month. It’s quiet here, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, I like it.” There is a pause between us. “I don’t see you as much as Jackie. You must be away at class most of the time and out with friends or something.”

“I keep missing you then; I take morning classes and work in the afternoon and evening.”

“No wonder…” I think aloud. “I just got back from my rose garden.”

“Roses? Oh, neat…” Stephanie chuckles and moves slightly closer to me as we talk. “You work a lot, around here?” she asks . “I’m practically full time. I work tonight.”

“You get off later in the morning?” she asks thoughtfully.

“Eight o’clock. Usually, I’m home by eight thirty.”

Stephanie smiles with encouragement, nodding slightly. “I don’t have to be in till two tomorrow.”

“I’ll definitely be home by eight thirty,” I nod with suggestive agreement. “I’ll have about two hours free until I have to head off to class.”

We start backing away from each other.

“Okay, I’ll see you,” she nods back the same way. Exchanging glances, we both turn and go into our separate apartments. The day after we meet, I get home from work an hour early. No sign of Stephanie off hand. As I take a much-needed leak, however, I begin to hear broom sweeping outside. Looking out the window (carefully, as usual), I see Stephanie sweeping around her apartment door, then the walkway in front of it. Wearing what appears to be the same pair of cutoffs, she concentrates on her sweeping. I have little difficulty getting off the sight of her attractive face.

Finally, after mustering up some courage, I go over to #7 and knock on the door. Stephanie immediately lets me in. She is very happy.

I begin to see Stephanie just about every day, starting that Tuesday Morning. When she asks me to, I begin to give her fresh cuttings of tea roses from my garden the next day. She continuously smells them with fondness.

I also continue to leave my window slightly open in order to see Stephanie emerge. In fact, I keep checking it right after leaving her apartment for some strange, pathological reason. And she is now looking at me a little suspiciously as I depart. I begin to hesitate, waiting longer each evening. But still…I keep looking out the window, ever so cautiously.

On Saturday evening, the 24th, before joining Stephanie and her roommate, Jackie, for dinner, I see Stephanie out on the balcony wearing her glasses as usual, and also her black bikini. The sight of her warms me immediately and fully. I prepare to get off to the sight of Stephanie. I continue watching: For a brief moment, there is no one at the open door. But I know Stephanie will emerge again… and she does. She carries some terra cotta pots in front of her stomach. Stephanie remains in the doorway, holding a couple of plants. She stands still and idly for a moment. It appears that she is trying to decide where to put them. Enchanted, I study her gorgeous, slightly skinny body and spectacled face. As she slowly begins to set down the plants, kneeling along the rail, I quickly climax.

My next opportunity to get off to the sight of Stephanie comes in the evening, the following Friday, when I invite myself over for dinner. Jackie greets me casually then goes into the bathroom. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice a door closing immediately. I sit down on the sofa and notice Stephanie’s bedroom door opened about a foot. She walks idly around in a pair of green denim pants and her tucked in blue pastel shirt. Looks like she’s getting ready to change into something else. I continue watching Stephanie, mesmerized, as she comes to a standstill at the door’s gap and pulls down her pants. I cautiously look around, wary of Jackie. I pull down my pants and underwear, and lube up my limp erection with some saliva. I then resume my original position in view of Stephanie in her room. I begin to stroke away to the sight of her as she slowly dresses. She sits on her bed, now, facing rightward, with her brown bra and panties revealed. Her left thigh is crossed over her right one. I quickly get an erection and reach a plateau in short order. Stephanie brings pink fabric in front of herself and pulls it on. I come to the sight of her thighs.

As my climax dies down, Stephanie stands back up, with her tan legs and lower thighs still in view. Quickly, I pull up my underwear and pants, and zip them up. Stephanie comes out of her room, looking at me curiously, as I wipe my hand off on their sofa. I then follow Stephanie into the kitchen and take a seat at the table. Jackie follows us and sets the main course in the center, along with three side dishes. Stephanie sets out a four-pack of wine coolers, a bowl of chocolate pudding, two tall glasses with ice, and plates. I remain seated, watching with admiration as they work together. Finally, Jackie places a fork and spoon beside each of our plates then small dessert bowls. Jackie then sits down next to me while Stephanie sits shyly in front of us.

At first, the three of us dine quietly, politely passing the courses back and forth. I feel kind of awkward, flicking brief glances at Stephanie. She, likewise, continues to glance at me curiously. Jackie does not seem to notice that Stephanie and I are so quiet – at least as much as I do. Jackie does most of the talking between mouthfuls, while Stephanie simply answers her. Stephanie doesn’t seem upset to me, just aware.

I find myself becoming very chummy with Jackie and she decides to have the two of us help wash the dishes and clean up. Stephanie and I end up doing most of the work, quietly, as Jackie prepares for work.

Then Stephanie moves purposefully from the living room to her room, drawing all the curtains. Even as I converse with Jackie, I am uneasy about Stephanie . Jackie then leaves for the night, saying goodbye to her roommate.

I am now alone with Stephanie.

She’s somewhere nearby…

I slowly enter the kitchen and linger in front of the range. I am slightly taken by surprise as Stephanie also enters the kitchen – slowly, quietly – glancing at me shyly. For a few seconds, I continue to linger; Stephanie begins to stare at me. A long pause, as I nearly decide to apologize. Then, almost together, we stroll back into the living room. I gravitate toward the door.

“You don’t want to leave yet,” she says, looking at me intently, while descending to the sofa, not quite on the spot I was earlier watching her from. I sit down carefully beside Stephanie and we begin to trade shy glances. We are both acutely aware of her thighs.

“I like your pudding,” I compliment her suggestively . Stephanie looks at my chest amorously. Then she holds both of my hands affectionately, while gazing at me. “ Why didn’t you bring me some roses today?”

“ I don’t want you to get tired of them,” I reply.

“ I like roses,” she murmurs, rubbing my hands. There is a pause between us as Stephanie waits for me to promise her some more of them.

“ I like bikinis,” I murmur back.

Stephanie chuckles slightly and looks down while blushing.

“I like cutoffs,” I add.

She continues to chuckle, still looking down shyly. Finally, she looks back up at me questioningly.

“I like glasses,” I coo to her.

Stephanie shifts slightly and then looks at me pointedly. “ What about intelligence?”

“That you are; I can’t hide anything from you.” Our eyes remain locked for a moment.

“I’m onto something that you’re doing?” Stephanie murmurs suggestively, smirking slightly.

I practically whisper.

“Tell me what you’ve been doing…then maybe,” she insists, raising her voice a little. It’s my turn to look down, blushing. I open my mouth to speak, look back up at Stephanie to voice a couple of words, but I restrain them. Stephanie looks down herself and giggles with amusement. Then she rises up from the sofa. I stand up with her.

“Without a doubt, you are intelligent,” I remind Stephanie, shyly and emphatically. She stares at me thoughtfully. I head for the door. As I step out, we exchange brief, flirtatious glances. Then I close the door quietly behind me. I look back as I head over to my own door. I cannot discern their apartment’s interior through those blinds; Stephanie knows what she’s doing.

The following evening, Halloween, as I’m stepping out of my apartment, I catch the sight of Jackie also stepping out of hers. “Stephanie looked all over for you today,” she explains to me. “She knocked on your door about three or four times.”

“Damn, I forgot to tell her I had to work,” I reply, slapping my forehead slightly. I look at Jackie questioningly; she stares back pleasantly. “I hope she’s not mad.”

Jackie chuckles with amusement, turning to face the north end of the walkway. “No… anxious from what I saw.” Then she looks at me intently. “Whadya mean, mad? She never said anything you did made her mad.” Jackie stares out the front windows now. “She’s in a real good mood, lately. Radiant.” Jackie looks at me some more, still pleasant. “And you must be a part of it.”

At this moment, Jackie and I both hear and see Stephanie coming up the steps right alongside the two efficiencies. Jackie looks on and then gestures to me slightly. Stephanie greets us politely, wearing a blue miniskirt. I practically melt at the sight of her and catch a good whiff of her sweet fragrance as she slowly passes by me. I can vaguely discern Stephanie’s partially silhouetted expression as she leans against the rail a bit in front of Jackie. I am still uneasy about how she has been taking my mysterious actions over the past two months.

“Been gone all day,” Jackie tells her. “So how’d your day off go?” Stephanie explains that she went up to Countryside mall with a bunch of her friends and did a little shopping. She even met a sweet-tempered young French guy. My body fills with heat. Stephanie talks a little more about the things they did – driving all over Pinellas County. At this point, I begin to anticipate how much more complex my acquaintance with Stephanie has just become. Jackie then contemplates whether to eat dinner here or go over to her friend’s house.

“Go see Anna,” Stephanie tells Jackie, moving over to their living room’s dimly-lit windows concealed (of course) by the blinds. “I’m staying here with Tom,” she says, glancing over at me.

Jackie smiles at me knowingly and then slowly rises up from her chair. Stephanie and I watch her walk down the north stairs. I then follow Stephanie inside their apartment, into the air-conditioned living room. Stephanie suggests making a pizza and I eagerly help her round up some ingredients.

“I wanted to spend the day with you,” she comments, as we leisurely gather some toppings. There is a moment of silence. “Instead, I met Pierre,” she explains nonchalantly (or so it seems). “Unfortunately, my neighbor couldn’t be there to see it,” she murmurs tenderly. I glance over to see Stephanie focused on selecting a Teflon pizza pan from the upper shelf. We both continue to work leisurely over the counter. Stephanie wipes off a pan as I slowly pick away at the crust’s plastic wrapper. “What if I don’t come back here and hang out any more…and see more of Pierre, instead?”

“You’re talkin’ to Mr. Jealousy here,” I murmur, glancing at her.

“I knew you’d be a little,” she coos back. “But you’ll never say…”

“Say what…”

“What you’ve been doing…” I suddenly become aware of Stephanie’s intelligence and reminded of her awareness. “ Yesterday, Jackie told me that I look pretty good in that black bikini.” I glance at Stephanie as she grins to herself. There is a long pause. “Maybe I’m just imagining that you’re watching me.” Stephanie goes about tentatively spreading sauce across the crust. I grab a handful of shredded mozzarella and stand by. “ I mean we’re so close now… spending most of our time together. I just… wonder why you still would,” she continues, watching me scatter the cheese onto the sauce. I glance up to see her gazing at me suggestively from the corner of her right eye. I begin to hand Stephanie the clumps of pepperoni and she delicately lays the slices down one at a time.

“Yeah, why would I need to,” I reply, aware of my guilt.

“You want to.”

“You want me to?”

I scatter on a little bit of sliced green pepper. Stephanie sprinkles on sliced mushrooms. “It’s a comfortable thing to wear when it gets hot,” she says.

“I’ll bet the other men here have gotten a pretty good look at you,” I suggest.

“Not that I’m aware of,” Stephanie replies.

I pause thoughtfully, watching Stephanie throw the package away and brush the leftover toppings over the crust.

“ So, you made friends with …Pierre?”

“He’s a sweetie pie,” Stephanie replies charmingly. Turning her attention to the oven, Stephanie slides the pizza inside it. “I only just met him today. I think he’s really serious about me.” Out of the corner of my right eye, I could swear that Stephanie is smirking. “I could see it in his eyes. So, when he asked if he could treat Shauna and I to a movie, I was, like, ‘Sure, okay’,” she coos.

Stephanie now passes by me, opens the refrigerator (to the right of me, adjacent to the sink), and takes out two wine coolers. I glance at her again as she closes the refrigerator’s door. Then I begin to sulk over the counter.

“He even kissed me on the cheek,” Stephanie coos even more affectionately, heading over to the table with the drinks.

I begin to stare downward along the left edge of the floor adjacent to the sink, contemplating with a sunken heart. Suddenly, a hand comes gently down on my right shoulder.

“Tom, it doesn’t necessarily mean a thing,” Stephanie murmurs. I turn to look at her, ashamed of my jealousy. “ This guy lives near Tarpon Springs. Believe me, that’s a hell of a lot of trouble for me to see him on a regular basis. I don’t think either of us is that serious.” I begin to look at Stephanie directly, becoming more at ease as she gauges me. “Besides, I couldn’t understand half of what he said.”

Stephanie chuckles to me, close to my face, and I smile with her affectionately. There is a long pause between us.

“I shouldn’t be this way when you go out and have fun,” I apologize, shaking my head slightly. Stephanie shakes her head back. Then she nods to me.

“ I knocked on your door all morning.”

I could almost kiss Stephanie.

“How was the movie?”

“I forgot. Shauna seemed to like it. But, you know, me and her boyfriend were there, too.” The oven’s buzzer sounds; Stephanie takes her hand off my shoulder and turns around to turn it off. Stephanie and I pick at the pizza while listening to one of her favorite music compilations. At eleven o’clock, I decide to get some sleep. Stephanie walks me over to her door and we stand before each other. She looks at me suggestively again and my hunch returns.

“I’d like to soak in some sun rays during the middle of the day, if the sky stays clear,” Stephanie replies with a couple of nods. She then takes both of my hands in hers. “ Maybe you’ll come out and keep me company.”

I look down shyly. Then I shift my face thoughtfully.

“Maybe you’ll let me take you out to the beach instead,” I boldly suggest.

Stephanie grins at me. “Let’s go out to Treasure Island.”

“ What time?”

“Ten o’clock?” she suggests with a slight shrug. “Beat the crowds and the sun.” Stephanie kisses me affectionately on the right cheek, close to my lips. I immediately become pleasurably warm. Then she strokes her left hand down my right arm, as I leave.

I toss and turn half of the night.

The following morning, Sunday, November the 1st, at a quarter till nine I knock on Stephanie’s apartment door. Folded under my left arm is a blue body towel; in the same hand, I hold my folded up lawn chair. I smell a delicious aroma issuing through the opened blinds and drawn curtains. After about a minute, she lets me in with a pleasant ‘good morning’ and a smile.

“Jackie’s asleep,” she informs me.

“Just got home from work?” I inquire.

“She had a hard night, just went straight to her room. I made breakfast – hash browns,” she glances at me for approval and I nod eagerly.”

“ That’ll hit the spot.”

Stephanie looks down and smiles. We eat for about half an hour. I eat my hash browns with plenty of catsup. Then Stephanie fries up some more patties for me, a little amazed at my appetite. I also have two glasses of milk – overall, about twice what she eats.

“I guess I’m not a bad cook,” Stephanie replies modestly, as I help her place the dishes in the sink . “You’ll have to make me dinner some time.” I then wait for Stephanie to dress and pack for our excursion while watching some television on very low volume out of consideration for Jackie.

She is ready in twenty minutes, wearing a light-blue ‘Pompano Beach’ t-shirt, her brown sandals, and hair fastened on the sides with two bobby pins, and holding a black nylon duffle bag.

“You got some sun screen,” I ask with concern. “ I couldn’t find any in my place.”

“Are you kidding?” Stephanie replies emphatically. “I take it every time I go out there.” As we head down the stairs, I ask whose car she’d like to take. Stephanie pleasantly gestures toward the street, where I’m parked: “Aren’t you gonna drive your girlfriend?” I look down, blushing, while holding open the door for Stephanie to step out first. In less than half an hour, I reach the parking lot of Winn Dixie, across Gulf Boulevard from the metered lot. Fortunately, there is hardly any traffic on the street at this eleven o’clock hour. So the two of us can walk leisurely across, hand in hand. “You really look good, Stephanie,” I tell her for about the fifth time this morning, referring to her pleasant disposition, as we walk into the metered lot. Stephanie looks down, smiling with appreciation – also for the fifth time. Then she studies my face. “You’re tanning already.”

I look down shyly and Stephanie releases my hand to rub my back affectionately. Then we walk arm in arm through the rest of the parking lot (Stephanie chuckling pleasurably) until we reach the sand. We continue, hand in hand. Stephanie pinches me on my right butt cheek; I respond by kicking sand against her left leg.

Stephanie and I walk parallel with the shore until we both decide on a spot about ten feet out of the tide’s reach, just dry enough so that her duffle bag won’t get wet. Stephanie sets her bag down and we extend our lawn chairs, setting them close together. Then we glance at each other shyly while pulling off our shirts. She looks at me slightly for appraisal. “Aye, a new one,” I reply, observing her blue string bikini and the pale outlines where the previous one fit. “ How’s it feel?”

“A bit tight on the sides, with the knots,” Stephanie comments, bringing her hands down to her pale hips for a moment to study them. We descend to our chairs. “Other than that, it’s pretty comfortable.”

“It looks perfect on you,” I comment, nodding emphatically.

“I’m too skinny…” she returns, rolling her eyes upward coyly.

“You’re perfect, Stephanie,” I reply, staring at her chest and neck through softened, lusting eyes. Stephanie smiles warmly back to me with a nod. I then become very anxious about the overhead sun, searching around Stephanie for that bottle of sunscreen.

“Do you burn easily?” I ask her.

Stephanie responds by leaning forward and retrieving the gray bottle from her duffle bag. “ Not when I sit out on the lawn,” she replies, glancing at me flirtatiously. “Out here, definitely. Use it first; you’re skin’s much lighter than mine,” Stephanie says, handing the bottle to me.

“I need it like everything.”

I spend the next several minutes thoroughly rubbing on the precious lotion. Stephanie then gets out of her chair to rub plenty across my shoulders. I thank her graciously during the process. I then apply it to her shoulders, going carefully under her bra strings. Behind Stephanie, I can see the sides of her smiling face while doing it.

We then sunbathe in our chairs, talking off and on, while holding hands and enjoying the balmy gulf breeze. I can’t help but take a look at Stephanie’s bikini every minute; she is perfect for the beach, even with her glasses still on. From the way she looks back at me with a flirtatious smirk, Stephanie knows how fond I am of her appearance.

Every now and then, a man will walk by, glancing at Stephanie with attraction. Some of them she stares back at; a couple of times she glances at me for a reaction. A few times I get jealous; on one of these occasions, she rubs my hand with reassurance. I, on the other hand, stare at every bikini-wearer that walks by. In most of these instances, I glance over at Stephanie either with shyness or guilt. From her: a chuckle… a silly grimace… a pinch on my arm… a kick to my right leg. Otherwise, she takes it well.

At two thirty, Stephanie and I decide we’ve had enough rays for this week. I take her to the Olive Garden restaurant for lunch – our first official date. Her sun kissed expression is even more beautiful in the parlor’s dimness. Even after all that time spent on the beach in that sweltering heat, Stephanie is still quite vivacious and eager for conversation. She talks at length about her friends, and holds my hands from time to time, to emphasize a point – which makes me feel very warm every time she does it. As we finish eating, I simply bask in Stephanie’s aura. She suddenly regards me with curiosity.

“What?” she asks, thoughtfully. “ What is it, Tom?”

“It’s just unbelievable, you don’t have a boyfriend,” I coo to Stephanie, looking at her out of the corner of my left eye flirtatiously but shy.

“Not at the moment,” she replies, glancing down briefly, then back up at me.

“Not officially,” I add.

We both then look down in thoughtful silence. Stephanie brings her left hand tenderly on top of my right one.

“I think we both got lucky,” she replies. We finally look back up at each other serenely.

Later that evening, I come over to Stephanie’s apartment for a special dinner alone with her. We sit adjacent to each other at the table, which she moved into the living room, close to the entertainment system. Only the bathroom light is on, creating a very romantic mood. We eat our linguini in Alfredo sauce in the extreme dimness, regarding each other shyly and flirtatiously. Marcia wears only a very long, light blue satin nightshirt with a wide boat collar. I am in a sleeveless gray shirt with matching boxer shorts. A nearly silhouetted figure, Stephanie is an enchanting sight.

“Wish I had this whole place to myself,” Stephanie says, gazing slightly downward, raising her left arm upward with the elbow planted on the table. “I feel like a young girl being here with Jackie,” she gestures, waving her left hand toward Jackie’s room.

“You won’t stay with her forever…and that’s what I’m half afraid of,” I remark, also looking downward.

“I’m not going anywhere, Tom,” Stephanie murmurs, shaking her head slightly. She smiles at me with assurance. “ At least, not without you knowing where I’ll be.”

“I’m not, either,” I return.

Stephanie rests her chin on her downwardly folded left hand, locking her eyes onto mine. Our exchanges become increasingly drawn out between long pauses.

“You’re awfully handsome, she coos.” I look down, blushing slightly. “You are,” she giggles. “And tell me again what I am. You’ve been saying it all day. Come on, I like it…” Stephanie continues to smile pleasantly at me as my shyness subsides and I can look back up at her glasses. “Well, I’m perfect, right?” Remembering that comment, I smile to her. We trade glances off and on for about one minute. “I don’t want you to be lonely anymore, Tom.”

“I’m not,” I reply, shaking my head slightly.

“So tell me. What am I?” she coos.

We continue to gaze flirtatiously at each other. I begin to recall Stephanie’s cheerful mood from earlier today, while regarding her now; she increasingly smiles warmly at me, also remembering.

“You’re very kind,” I murmur, looking at Stephanie emphatically. “I really felt good this morning, Stephanie,” I reply, remembering the beach parking lot. “That was you at your best.” Stephanie then brings both of her arms down to the table and extends them toward my hands while looking at me sincerely.

“You made me feel very special today, Tom.” I merely look downward from her neck to her shoulders, chest, arms, and hands – which are only an inch from mine. “This is a real crossroads for me,” I observe. “I don’t feel puppy love like I used to – like a kid.”

“Yea, this feels like the real thing to me. How about you, what do you feel?”

“Complete,” I reply, looking at Stephanie thoughtfully. “You feel that way with me?”

“Yeah,” she nods sincerely. Stephanie stares at my hand. We become aware of the proximity between our hands. But I am mostly focused on her face.

“Beyond those glasses, I see a curious little girl.”

Stephanie’s eyes look back up to me and she smiles affectionately. There is a long pause. Then her smile melts away and her expression softens even more in this dimness. She moves her left hand over to my right one and caresses it.

“Tom, you never talk about having a relationship.” Silence. Then Stephanie looks at me questioningly. “ Do you want one?”

“Definitely.” I reply. I pause with shyness, glancing down. Then I look back up at her. “I’m ready to be asked…” she murmurs, smiling warmly.

“Can I have you?” I coo to Stephanie.

“Definitely,” she answers, smiling even more. We kiss tenderly on the lips. Finally, near eleven o’clock, I become extremely tired and decide to retreat to my apartment. Stephanie stands up with me and we embrace.

“I’m coming over in the morning,” she tells me.

“Hmmm…” I grin.

“Nine o’clock all right?” she asks.

“Perfect.”

Stephanie opens the door for me and I step out.

“I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep now,” she tells me . “Me, neither. We grin affectionately to each other before kissing one another on the lips.

A knock on my door arouses me from sleep. As I slowly climb out of my bed, I realize who it is supposed to be. I open the door to see Stephanie’s affectionately smiling face as she coos, “Good morning.”

I invite her in and she begins to look over my efficiency slightly. Her figure becomes partially silhouetted by light coming in through the blinds of my double window. I study the back of Stephanie’s tan thighs. Then, as she turns to face me, I am enchanted by her fragrance, the familiarity of her cutoffs, and her wholesome, curious face as she regards me.

Stephanie asks to sit down on my bed and I join her, studying her short-crop pink t-shirt. She holds my hand tenderly and smiles a little. There is a long pause between us. “Thanks for coming over,” I murmur to Stephanie.

“Of course,” she coos, smiling back to me while nodding her head slightly. “ I’m your girlfriend.”

I begin to stare at Stephanie’s long, tanned thighs. I then ask to see a little more of them. Stephanie responds by standing up. She slowly pulls up her cutoffs about three times: an inch and a half… another half inch… Then, even with a deep breath and a final heave, Stephanie can pull no higher. She sighs aloud, shakes her head while regarding her well-outlined crotch, and looks at me proudly. Stephanie descends gently across my lap and holds onto my shoulders with her right hand. Stephanie looks at my softened eyes. I then begin to stroke the tops, outsides, and insides of her thighs, enchanted by how soft they are, all while gauging her amorous disposition. We then look up at each other – Stephanie at me with love, me back at her with lust.

“There’s something I really want to do…” I murmur a prepared proposal.

Stephanie looks at me seductively while rubbing my chest with her left hand.

“You want some?” she suggests . I pause with uncertainty, blushing.

“Why’re you shy?” she coos.

“You’re gonna laugh,” I reply. “Want me to spank your monkey?” she coos some more, looking downward while bringing her left hand over to my groin. She begins to rub it sensuously.

“No, I wanna spank it,” I reply, looking downward, feeling Stephanie’s hand working with increasing firmness. Then her hand stops. Stephanie lowers her eyes, too. Then she looks back up into my tentatively darting shy eyes questioningly.

There is a long pause between us as we regard each other with increasing passion. Stephanie looks downward again. She giggles a little and considers. “ Okay.” She looks up at me. “What do you want me to do?”

I rise up from my bed and go over to get my bottle of Probe; Stephanie watches my every move with expectation. I rejoin her. We sit before each other Indian style on my bed. She watches me, amorously as I pull down my shorts and underwear. I begin to stroke my penis while staring at Stephanie’s pale inner thighs and tendons. Grabbing hold of her right ankle, she extends her leg, allowing it to hang off the side of my bed while revealing the corresponding edge of her pink panties. I quickly achieve a full erection, which Stephanie looks upon with desire. Then she begins to sensuously rub the tops and undersides of her thighs, studying them one moment and glancing at me the next as I begin to breathe very rhythmically while stroking my erection more slowly. Stephanie extends her other leg, resting it against the wall and the right side of my waist. She smirks at me.

“You really do like this,” she coos softly. She pauses, then nods to me. Stephanie continues to rub the top and bottom surfaces of her thighs, studying their smoothness and shine. We glance at each other’s faces (mine increasingly desperate, hers amorous) again and again. I draw near orgasm, taking longer looks at Stephanie’s tanned, spectacled, loving face as she smiles at me.

“I guess I really do look good,” she mumbles almost to herself, studying and rubbing the bottoms of her inner thighs, in and out. Then she raises both of her thighs slightly to get a look at her groin.

I tense up while watching Stephanie grasp her pale left tendon while flexing it. No sign of pubic hair. It’s either not a lot or simply hidden from my view. Stephanie’s right fingers pick along the stringy ends of the cutoff along her groin as she watches me ejaculate from beneath her brow.

As my spasms die down, Stephanie takes a good, long look at my intensely aroused and relieved expression. Even as I look down at my semen splattered in three puddles on the comforter between us, I feel her eyes still fixated on me. I awkwardly wipe off my hand slightly and pull up my underwear. Then I continue to gaze at Stephanie as she stares unblinkingly at me. She takes both of my hands.

“ Felt good?” Stephanie coos as we share affectionate eye contact. “You really wanted that,” she nods before chuckling pleasantly.

“How ‘bout what you want?” I inquire. Stephanie smiles suggestively to me, softening her eyes. “I like spontaneity. Sometimes I want to be attacked; sometimes I might wanna… make you wear a g-string…tie you up… give you a good whippin’.” It’s my turn to look down shyly now. Stephanie giggles loudly into my right ear and brings her arms fully around my torso. “I’ve always wanted to see you in one, tied spread eagled, face down.” I look back up at Stephanie and she giggles again, raising her eyebrows.

“Maybe…” I suggest, raising my eyes back at her. Stephanie kisses me passionately. We continue sitting in front of each other Indian-style for another five minutes or so, stroking each other’s arms while murmuring sweet nothings to one another.

“I want to go take a shower now,” Stephanie finally decides. Our eyes meet suggestively. “And I don’t think you should spy on me right now, with Jackie home.” Stephanie chuckles and pats me on the shoulder slightly as I look down shyly. The following Wednesday evening, I am sitting on Jackie’s sofa and Stephanie, wearing the pair of cutoffs that I love seeing her in, sits in the recliner Indian-style. She rests her right elbow on the right arm of the recliner and her chin, in turn, in that hand.

Jackie decides to go down to the general store to buy us some snacks, leaving Stephanie and I alone together watching TV with all of the lights out.

All of my attention now focuses on Stephanie in this extreme dimness. She raises her knees up. My stomach tightens. After a moment, she begins swaying them slightly. Stephanie begins to stare in my direction while biting her fingernails. I can almost discern a flirtatious smile on her face. She looks over at the door for a few seconds. Then she continues to stare toward me through softened eyes, with her knees resting against both arms of the recliner.

I scoot out of my pants slightly and begin to stroke my erection, fixated mostly on Stephanie’s thighs and groin, and also a little on her face as she continues to manicure her nails with her teeth and study them in the TV’s light. She glances at me off and on during the few minutes it takes for me to come.

By the time Jackie returns, I have wiped up and zipped up. Jackie sets the bag on the coffee table, and takes out her box of graham crackers and OJ. Stephanie rises up, peers into the bag, and takes out the jar of baby pepperonis and 2-liter bottle of Vernors. She then goes straight over to the sofa and cuddles up against me. Stephanie opens the jar and clasps it between her thighs. I simply reach over to her and pull one out every couple of minutes, feeling the closeness of her.

In half an hour, at nearly eleven thirty, Jackie says goodnight to us and retires slowly to her room. I stretch out onto the sofa a lot more and Stephanie lies right alongside me, placing the jar in front of her pelvis now. We continue to share the bottle of Vernors while watching TV. And I continue to dip into the jar of pepperonis.

Finally, Stephanie lowers the jar before my hand can reach it. Then she reaches over to take the remote from me and mutes the audio. Dropping the remote on the carpet, Stephanie turns over to face me more directly. We stare at each other for a long time. Then I take Stephanie’s hands tenderly in mine. She, in turn, begins to rub my wrists and arms. After staring at each other for another moment, I kiss Stephanie delicately on the lips. It slowly builds into a mutual, passionate lip lock as we begin to grasp and rub each other’s torsos, breathing heavily through our nostrils. Stephanie breaks her mouth away and gauges me as I stroke her hair earnestly, looking at her questioningly. We both continue to breathe heavily. Finally, Stephanie’s breathing comes to a standstill.

“Let’s go to your room,” she murmurs, nodding.

We immediately rise up from the sofa and are out the door in seconds.