Juliana
At dinner time a roommate told me that a new arrival in Perth was asking for my whereabouts. It had to be Juliana.
After washing up, we drove to the small house in the suburbs of Clarmemont, where she met me at the doorway with a big grin. She was staying with her host family before term started, and had just flew in over the weekend. I picked her light frame up by the waist and whirled her about while she laughed girlishly. It was my first body contact with her.
As I recalled , our dates back home were all primp and proper. We didn't even hold hands. The movie outings, the set lunches at Skillets, came about after our meeting at the week long conference outing in Fraser's Hill, Malaysia. There was the picture taken of her holding a stalk of a red rose at a flower bed, and one on a swing. Apparently these were significant moments for her, nevermind the fact I had also photographed other girls at that outing. When I packed my bags for Perth, it never crossed my mind I was leaving anyone special behind.
As it was the weekend, her host family suggested I stay over, as they expected we had much to catch up. We talked for a bit, and she told of me her girlfriends who I also met at Fraser's, and how each had settled down with careers and family. She chose to further her studies.
We were still chatting on her bed, after she changed into pyjamas. It never occurred to us that we were in dangeriously close proximity, something that was taboo back home. In that small room in a foreign country, we seem to have adapted to a new value system. After a while, we just laid quietly next to each other on her single bed.
She let me unbutton her top. Her small breasts came into view in the dim light. The last time I saw them was when we were fooling around in her house, and I chanced sighting the pendulous twin orbs through the neckline of her loose pyjamas. She never wore her bra when in sleeping clothes. I couldn't figure then why they were dangling so freely. My innocent mind had imagined they were firmly mounted on her chest. My exploring hands confirmed they were of modest proportion, not the overripe melons of Hollywood fantasy. I kissed the top of the slopes. "Don't touch the nipples," she announced quietly, defining the permissible zone for the night's explorations. I stripped off my T-shirt and jeans, and removed her pyjama bottom. Her pantie stays, another rule established. I pressed my whole body against her flesh, the hardening rod parked between her legs. My lips explored her breast again. This time she did not object when I wondered onto her forbidden brown nipples. Pinching with fingers and sucking with my mouth, I ventured to stir them into life, expecting them to be aroused into the stiffness of my shaft below.
We were to fall sleep in that posture, my face snuggled against the enveloping warm flesh of her breasts, my erect penis nuzzled against her nether lips, held safe at bay by her cotton panties.
After washing up, we drove to the small house in the suburbs of Clarmemont, where she met me at the doorway with a big grin. She was staying with her host family before term started, and had just flew in over the weekend. I picked her light frame up by the waist and whirled her about while she laughed girlishly. It was my first body contact with her.
As I recalled , our dates back home were all primp and proper. We didn't even hold hands. The movie outings, the set lunches at Skillets, came about after our meeting at the week long conference outing in Fraser's Hill, Malaysia. There was the picture taken of her holding a stalk of a red rose at a flower bed, and one on a swing. Apparently these were significant moments for her, nevermind the fact I had also photographed other girls at that outing. When I packed my bags for Perth, it never crossed my mind I was leaving anyone special behind.
As it was the weekend, her host family suggested I stay over, as they expected we had much to catch up. We talked for a bit, and she told of me her girlfriends who I also met at Fraser's, and how each had settled down with careers and family. She chose to further her studies.
We were still chatting on her bed, after she changed into pyjamas. It never occurred to us that we were in dangeriously close proximity, something that was taboo back home. In that small room in a foreign country, we seem to have adapted to a new value system. After a while, we just laid quietly next to each other on her single bed.
She let me unbutton her top. Her small breasts came into view in the dim light. The last time I saw them was when we were fooling around in her house, and I chanced sighting the pendulous twin orbs through the neckline of her loose pyjamas. She never wore her bra when in sleeping clothes. I couldn't figure then why they were dangling so freely. My innocent mind had imagined they were firmly mounted on her chest. My exploring hands confirmed they were of modest proportion, not the overripe melons of Hollywood fantasy. I kissed the top of the slopes. "Don't touch the nipples," she announced quietly, defining the permissible zone for the night's explorations. I stripped off my T-shirt and jeans, and removed her pyjama bottom. Her pantie stays, another rule established. I pressed my whole body against her flesh, the hardening rod parked between her legs. My lips explored her breast again. This time she did not object when I wondered onto her forbidden brown nipples. Pinching with fingers and sucking with my mouth, I ventured to stir them into life, expecting them to be aroused into the stiffness of my shaft below.
We were to fall sleep in that posture, my face snuggled against the enveloping warm flesh of her breasts, my erect penis nuzzled against her nether lips, held safe at bay by her cotton panties.
posted by sandy @ 1:07 AM
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