Vanessa

Vanessa The sun sunk rapidly in the November afternoon in Prague and shadows spread across the street like water seeping under a door in a flood. I rode the tram through Vinohrady getting off in an unfamiliar hilly neighborhood. I was looking for a bookstore called Shakespeare and Sons, so I followed my map, walking a few meters down the street then turned and made my way down a cracked concrete staircase and turned left on a street paralleling the tram route. I could see the sign for Shakespeare and Sons—the small storefront glowed. As I pushed open the door and walked into the main room I could see a bar in the corner and an array of mismatched chairs haphazardly arranged for the Monday night open mic poetry reading. Being relatively new in town, I thought it would be a good place to meet people, especially women. I ordered a shot of Becherovka, a Czech herbal liquor with a distinctive flavor that is quite impossible to describe and a bottle of Mattoni sparkling water, I found a comfortable upholstered chair, sat down and opened a book of poems by William Carlos Williams that I had picked up off a shelf. The familiar poems made me smile, and as I looked around the room at an assortment of people, I felt at home in the bookstore. A voice made my head snap around from my bookstore reverie and asked, “Excuse me, are these seats taken?” I looked up just as the woman who asked the question flipped her long lair and smiled. “No, no,” I answered, suddenly arising, “Please, sit down.” The woman delicately turned around and lowered herself on the chair, instructing her friend to sit in the chair next to her. Before her friend planted her butt in the seat, the first woman reached her hand out, shook my hand and said, “I’m Vanessa. California, I’m from California.” As I answered she slipped a leather purse off her shoulder and unzipped a reddish-brown leather jacket. She wore a simple button-down silk blouse, very tight jeans and brown boots with the jeans tucked in. The room wasn’t that brightly lit, so I couldn’t tell how old she was. She seemed to be in her 30s, maybe 35. Her friend who sat shyly listening to our conversation seemed much younger. “Are you reading a poem?” my new friend asked. “Yes, a new one. I’m not sure it’s finished, ready to read, but I thought I’d try it out.” We sat and chatted about life in Prague—she had come for an internship at The Prague Post, an English-language weekly and was now teaching English at a gymnasium. “Where in California are you from?” I asked. “Yorba Linda,” she replied. “Ah, Richard Nixon,” I responded. “His birthplace.” She smiled, and it made me notice how cute her face was and as my eyes moved up and down her body, I could see she was a very sexy young woman. I still could not judge her age, but knew she was at least 15 years younger than me. The open mic reading started and the first five or six readers read poems that I thought were weak and uninspired. Then Vanessa read, or precisely recited a beat-style poem, that was catchy and had some life to it unlike the mundane verse from the previous poets. I was impressed she had memorized it. I read right after her and sat back down. She winked at me and then patted my thigh when I sat. What was that, I wondered. After the reading she turned to me and told me how much she liked my poem, her hand on my thigh again. We chatted awhile and I began to feel badly that her friend, who sat silently, was being ignored. I asked her for her phone number and she wrote it on the back of a bookmark from the store. I picked up the William Carlos Williams book I had neglected since the reading started and glanced at the two young women talking with one eye as I glanced at Paterson, with the other. Later that week I used the phone number, took Vanessa to a romantic restaurant along the Vltava River. I looked at her in the romantic light of the post sunset glow from the restaurant’s soft lights and asked, “Just how old are you?” “25,: she said and I gulped, “exactly half my age” I thought. The conversation moved from Prague to California to James Baldwin to Vaclav Havel to New York then to sex: “I’ve only slept with two guys, both here. The first was a Czech guy a little older than me who lived with his mother and the other guy was a Canadian businessman who couldn’t get it up at his fancy hotel.” She asked me about my sex life and I realized I had slept with only one person over the last 23 years, my wife, with whom I was currently separated. We walked back to the tram, took it to her flat, got off and I walked her to the front door. She grabbed me and drew make close very swiftly, shoved her tongue into my mouth and started a long, breathless kiss. The suddenness floored me, but I responded, practically lifting her off her feet and returned the kiss, sliding my hands up her body to her large breasts. She moaned and breathed heavily, then suddenly backed off. “I don’t want to start anything I can’t finish. I’ve got to be at school at seven.” I gave her a much more chaste kiss and made my way to the tram and home. I fell asleep in a hurry only to be awakened by the landline hours later. Fearing it was my wife I answered, speaking softly. “Hi.” An unfamiliar voice responded. “Hi. Who is this?” I asked. “Vanessa. Are you awake?” “Yes, I laughed. Are you OK?’ “Uh-huh but I’m really horny. I’m naked, have my fingers in my pussy,” she cooed. “I’m so wet thinking about you.” That was the first of many late-night phone calls. I didn’t see her again for a week and a half when I met her at the Metro station near my flat. She had methodically arranged our first sexual encounter. I waited on the empty platform between the two Metro tracks at Prazkeho Povstani. She had on a rather unsexy knit cap—it was cold and damp, having sleeted all day. The same leather jacket clung to her tightly with a bright yellow, thick scarf wrapped around her neck, tailing down in front and behind her. She had never been to my flat before. We walked up the four flights as she took off the hat, the scarf, the jacket and as soon as I opened the door her boots. She sat on the couch just inside the door, a little nook outside the bathroom and my bedroom where I watched TV, and took off her long wool socks and a thick wool sweater. Silently she got up and walked into the bathroom. I sat on the couch thinking about what was about to occur. She had told me over the course of several phone calls what she wanted to do on our first sexual encounter. It was to be at my place and she wanted it to be casual without any expectations. She wanted to take a bath with me first. She did not want to fuck during the first encounter as she called it. I heard the bath water running and the door opened a crack. “Come in,” she said. She stood naked in the bath tub, the room steaming around her. She held her hands in front of her breasts and as I looked at her she slowly moved them down and behind her. She smiled the same coy smile I had seen at the bookstore and the dinner. Her breasts were much larger than I thought with huge pinkish-brown nipples prominently erect. She was only five-four, very slender so her large breasts seemed even bigger. Her hair was long and shiny brown and as she moved her hands away from her breasts she wrapped her hair on top of her head. “I don’t want my hair to get wet,” she said, I was surprised she had thick pubic hair, figuring that a woman her age would be, at least, partially trimmed. She saw me looking at her pussy, “I want to shave me. You said you had a clipper, would you do it?” I nodded, smiled, slowly unbuttoning my shirt, adding to the pile of her clothes on top of the toilet seat. I wrapped my arms around her, drawing her to me until her breasts smashed against my torso and my hard cock pressed against her. She tilted her head up, reached up and drew my head toward her and kissed me exactly the way she kissed me the first time. We broke apart and stepped into the tub. The water was beyond warm, almost too hot, but I stood for a second and then lowered myself into the hot water. I splayed my legs as wide as I could and she lowered herself between them facing me until she sat between my legs, my cock up against her pubic hair. She reached down and grabbed both my wrists and brought my hands to her breasts. “Squeeze my nipples,” she whispered. I lowered my head and sucked on her right nipple as I squeezed her left one. Her breathing changed to deep hurried breaths accompanied by soft moans. Her left hand reached down and grabbed my balls softly while her right fingers softly traced up and down my now pulsing cock. I hadn’t had any kind of sex since August so I was afraid I would cum to soon, but I didn’t as her hand squeezed me and stroked rapidly. She stood up enabling me to draw her closely so I could lick her pussy while seated. I pulled her lips apart and licked the entrance to her pussy, feeling the moist heat and smelling her arousal—she was very wet and not just from the bath. My tongue worked its way inside and she gasped, holding my head even more firmly. I tasted the delicious sourness and her juices flooded my tongue. She was whimpering and I could feel her entire body shaking, her breasts bobbling above my head, She screamed. I grabbed her in a tight hug and she whispered “Let’s…the bed,” was all she got out. She climbed out of the tub dripping onto the floor. She grabbed a towel, a brand new thick, long towel I had bought just for the occasion. She handed me one and we both dried off. As she dried I looked at her body, her sexy breasts, her pussy still dripping water from the bath and as she turned I could see her ass, not large or round but delicate like a Japanese model in a painting. She made a point to caress her breasts as she dried them, obviously proud. “Do you like them?” she asked, holding them out for my inspection. “Yes,” I said softly. “Yessss.” We opened the bathroom door and stepped out feeling the warm air of the apartment. We walked into the bedroom and she flung the towel, threw herself on the bed on her back and spread her legs wide working her hand to her pussy. She slipped a finger inside, withdrew it, brought it to her lips and sucked it. “Mmmmmm,” she said. “I think I am bi. I love the taste,” she laughed I laughed too, sat down on the bed facing her and grabbed her breasts firmly. She had the habit of staring directly into my eyes with her dark eyes and as I squeezed her breasts her eyes locked onto mine and she smiled. I could see she was playing with her clit as she looked at me and whispered, “Shave me.” I didn’t want to stop, but I did. I found my electric razor which had a built in trimmer. I got a towel and I had Vanessa lie on it on the bed. I washed her with a warm wash cloth and used some pre-shave lotion on her and turned on the trimmer. It made a soft buzz and I could feel the vibration in my hand. I imagined the vibration would really turn her on, and it did. I started with the less sensitive areas above her lips and as soon as I touched the trimmer to her she started moaning. I used my fingers on her lips to stretch her skin to make it easier to trim. Her moaning got louder and louder. She bit her lip. Before I could even finish the top part, she grabbed my arm hard and screamed—her first orgasm. I was amazed she came so fast. I resumed trimming. Her breathing was rapid. Even her nipples and her vaginal lips were swollen and red. I started trimming around her lips and her sensitive areas. She was moaning so loud. Her hand worked its way down to my cock and she grabbed me and squeezed. I was afraid she would squeeze me way too hard. As I trimmed she stroked me. My cock was as hard as it had ever been. Her other hand worked her nipples, back and forth from one to the other—I had never seen a woman so turned on. I could see the fluid seeping from her vagina. It was a flood. I thought maybe she was peeing. It took me about five minutes more to finish, the trimmer buzzing away. She came at least six more times and was now stroking me rhythmically and hard. Her other hand went between my legs and I felt her finger trace around my asshole. I had been married almost 25 years and my wife had never touched me there. I could feel her finger probe me, then work its way inside. I was almost done trimming. I could feel her skin around and on her lips was smooth. Her finger went deep inside me and then I felt another finger go in. It was a new sensation and I could feel my cock get even harder and leak so much precum. I put the trimmer down and picked up a tube of lotion and started spreading it all over her pussy. It smelled good and was slippery. She moaned even louder and I rubbed some directly on her clit. Both of us were in ecstasy, me rubbing the lotion all over her clit and pussy and her with three fingers inside my asshole and probing my prostate. I got on my hands and knees and she reached up and started stroking my cock while working deep inside my anus. I yelled out I was going to cum. She said “On my tits. Cum on my tits.’ I aimed there and shot so much cum I couldn’t believe it. Her tits were covered in cum and then she aimed my cock at her face and I covered most of her face in cum. While she did that I was spreading the lotion on her clit and I worked a finger inside her finding her G-spot. She screamed so loud and came a final time and went limp. I stood up next to the bed and saw her lying there, her chest heaving, her nipples erect, her legs splayed out wide and pussy spread open. She was coved in cum from her face to her neck to her tits. She had her eyes closed, but slowly opened them and smiled. I got a small towel and was going to clean her up and she said, “No. Leave it there it feels good.” She started wiping the cum from her face and het tits with her hand and then using it to lubricate her vagina and clit. She rubbed slow circles and I could see her convulse again in orgasm. I have no idea how many times she came. I was hard again as she played with her clit. She took the tube of lotion from me and squirted some on her fingers and rubbed it on her anus. Then she squirted some directly from the tube on to her anus. She sat up and kissed me deeply, shoving her tongue into my mouth. She use the small mirror I had to look at her clean-shaven pussy. That seemed to turn her on even more. She looked directly at me and said quietly, “Fuck my ass.” She had told me she wanted her first lover to fuck her ass but he wouldn’t. I flipped her over so she was lying on her stomach. I grabbed my cock, spread some more lotion on it and place the head at her opening and guided it slowly in. I thrust in and out and she moaned louder and louder. I could feel the pressure building up in my cock. I could feel her muscles relax and I slid my cock in deeper. I had never dome that either, so we were two anal virgins. Between her heavy breaths she said, “Cum in me.” I could feel my cock pulsing. I shoved it in as deep as I could. She moaned loudly and I came, my cock pulsing wildly, pumping my cum deep in her ass. I collapsed on top of her, my cock still deep inside. I pulled out slowly, my cum flooding out of her. I could see her bare pussy lips from between her spread legs. She reached down behind her and felt the cum flowing from her anus and then she circled her pussy lips with the cum on her fingers. She twisted off the bed, stood up, a little wobbly and walked to the full-length mirror. The cum still cascaded from inside her. She still had some on her face and tits. Her pussy lips glistened with lotion. She turned her head and looked at me rubbing her now smooth pussy lips. “Good job,” she said.