I met Felix at an anarchist forum when he taught a class on the history of revolution, which was already a topic that got me wet. He was shorter than I was, muscular, with an intense face and penetrating eyes. A few months later, when I needed a place to stay in New York for a night, I emailed him and he seemed happy to put me up. I knew he was attracted to me but he was so reserved that if I didn't initiate something I thought he might just suffer in silence.
He was nervous the minute I walked into his tiny apartment, but tried to cover it up by being extra casual. He suggested we watch a movie since both of us were too tired to go out. We rented a comedy and hopped onto the couch together. We pretended it was cold so we could sit under a blanket together and inch closer each time we laughed.
After the movie he offered to let me stay in his bed under the pretense that because I was so tall the couch might be uncomfortable. I wasn't sure I wanted to sleep with him, but I said okay just to see what would happen. I changed into the tightest shirt and boxers I had and slipped in next to him with what I hoped was a disarming smile.
He did nothing for a long time but I could feel his warmth and his trembling and I knew he wanted to slip his hands under the sheets and up my thighs. I rolled towards him, half asleep, and felt our legs touch, as if by accident. His legs moved against mine and we stayed there, torturing each other. I turned away from him so that my ass lay inches from his hardening cock. Slowly, after a few minutes, I sighed and rolled towards him a little more. Now I was wide awake, but I kept my eyes closed so he could pretend I was still asleep. He curled around me and it still could have been entirely innocent.
We lay there for what seemed like an eternity, his cock rock hard and pressed up between my legs. I used every excuse to rub against him slowly, goading him into making a move. He moaned once, and then gasped sharply and lay still. Every inch of my skin was alive with anticipation until finally, I couldn't take it any more. I rolled over on top of him and devoured his lips with mine. We were both so turned on there was no way to turn back. He slid his fingers under my shirt and fondled my breasts and nipples but was still too nervous to touch my pussy. We started to grind together, through the soft cloth of our underwear, until we were both so raw that even that hurt. When I struggled to pull his underwear down, he rolled away from me and gasped for breath.
He was twice my age and suffering from a guilty conscience. He must have felt like he was taking advantage of me, because neither of us had been up front with each other. He said he didn't want to have sex, which I thought was ironic since I had turned eighteen just a few months before and wanted to take full advantage of my new legal status. I wasn't about to pressure him, though I did think he was pretty damn stupid not to go for it.
He was soon back on top of me, unable to contain himself. He plunged his fingers down through the soft hair above my cunt and into the wet lips below. I arched up to meet his hand and his mouth swallowed my gasps as our tongues intertwined. He sank his fingers inside me deeper and deeper until my cunt was streaming sweet juice and I begged him to touch my clit. Without stopping, his thumb rose up to caress the perfect spot and, after being primed all night, I came hard and fast, shuddering against him and moaning with each orgasmic spasm.
He was still sheepish the next morning when I got up early, kissed him and dressed to leave. He asked me not to tell any of our mutual acquaintances. I hope this doesn't count...