Slippery Fingers

Bending over the hedge of bushes, I was so close to emptying my belly of beer when a hand came over to give me a few pats on the back, which ironically triggered the cocktail of beer and BBQ to gush onto the pretty plants looking innocently in my face. On and on it went until I was sober, and there was little strength left in me when I stood up to get a good look at this ‘good samaritian’.

Indeed, good look turned into look good when I saw a girl around my age, dressed in a black ‘goth’ style, giving me a very concerned look.

‘Are you feeling better?’

‘Yeah. Much better. Thanks.’

Since I had already shown her my most unglamorous side, there was no need to hide my weakness, coupled with long periods of shut eyes and temple massage. At where I was, there were no outdoor seats unless I want to bother the restaurants nearby, leaving me with just the steps in front of Singapore River to get some rest.

For yet another surprise, she actually followed me and politely asked if she could join me, as she wasn’t much better than that state I was earlier. Well how could I turn a mysterious beauty down right? We lit a cigarette each and started introducing ourselves, engaging in a conversation we ignored the incessant phone calls for.

(I asked) ‘How are you getting home?’

‘Probably GRAB or something. You?’

‘Hmm. Sit around until I don’t look so shitty, then GRAB or take the first bus home.’

‘Haha. Parents huh? You can rest at my place. I live alone.’

‘Serious? Where do you stay?’

‘Some private estate. My parents left it to me after they went back to London.’

Hearing such.. freedom? I didn’t have to wonder why she clubbed, for she could do anything she wanted. Ten minutes later, both of us felt good enough to walk and we hopped on a taxi next, heading towards ‘Bishan’ she gave as our destination.

(She whispered) ‘Hey.. We’re here. Sorry uncle.’

I grudgingly climbed out of the car to see a three storey mansion before me, all dark and scary if not for a click she made on a remote. The gates opened for us and some lights came on in the house even before we walked in.

In there, everything was so gorgeous that I wanted to say ‘I found my perfect writing environment’, but those words were stuck behind my astonishment.

‘Come. My bedroom is upstairs. You can shower there. You might want to keep your pants dry though. I only have t-shirts for you.’

I was certain I didn’t say anything until I was done showering, completely stoned and impressed at the same time by what was happening in just one single night. When it was her turn to take a shower, I was told to rest on the bed, which I wished I was in the right mind to probe further, because I lost consciousness once I laid on the soft, princess-y bed.

At god-knows-what-time, I was gently awakened by a hand brushing across my cheeks, and caught a hand before it went down my sensitive neck.

‘Oh sorry! That’s a natural reflex of my sensitive neck.’

Michelle, as she said she was, had been staring at me for that amount of time, with mascara-ed eyes and perfectly drawn, dark lips.

‘I’m just being romantic. I don’t know what came over me. I can’t sleep.’

As if that short nap had recovered all of my energy, I couldn’t sleep either and kept looking at her the same way she did, getting my soul sucked through her eyes. For some reason, I started touching her face as well and my hand, it took on an autopilot mode.

Firstly moving down her neck, the journey continued to her shoulder where the sheets (over her body) were dragged along her body as I trailed my fingertip to her ribs, advancing too slowly to the hips I realised only a panty was on.

(She hushed) ‘Keep going.’

By the time I could reach no further, her body was fully exposed to my watchful eyes, under the glowing florescent nightlight from the night stand.

(I breathed) ‘They’re beautiful.’

‘They’re naughty.’

Referring to her pair of erected nipples, I was ‘brought to the party’ by her careful hand. As I massaged those C-cups(?), she slipped her hand into my boxers I was supposed to wear my pants over once my legs were dry, and began teasing my boyhood.

Our eyes never once closed in front of each other, observing each and every facial response, taking grace in plain, slightly naughty, company. Gradually, I moved to her legs where she lifted a knee upward, for me to go between.

That soaked panties, was nothing but ‘sophisticated’ in my eyes. What really got to me was her level of self-control, to hold her thoughts and expressions in, without showing a stranger so much a peek into her ‘wild’ side, though I could say the same for me (shamelessly).

We slowly rotated our bodies to lie on our backs, as we crossed our arms to keep going at our respective genitals. What really got me into the mood was the noise we made. The subtle moans, loud, sometimes soft breathing, occasional gasps, and even rarer groans. I would imagine ‘wild deers’, or ‘sexcited Rudolph-deers’, everything was just so magical and understanding.

(She moaned) ‘You’re getting there. Am I?’

‘Just go a little faster.’

‘Same for you.’

We turned down the lights to complete darkness and sped up the last bit of our hanky-panky, until we came together. I presented her the warm, wet squirts and she gave me a slippery, hot gush, right into the sheets in front of her pussy. For the clean up I didn’t do too thoroughly, we used the long bath towel I used to dry myself, to wipe off however much we could.

(She said) ‘I’m going to sleep now. Goodnight.’

And I went back to sleep with a clearer mind, and bacon – the first thing I smelled before I opened my eyes. How could she have done this? I will never leave, if I had the choice.

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