Bab 2903: @2
I rolled her over, picked her up, and carried her to her bed. As we approached her bed, the carpet fragment Gia had lain on the floor under her mattress caught my foot.
For a moment, I was going down, but I threw a foot forward and caught myself.
And I fell anyways. I needed an excuse to push my body against hers.
I pitched Gia forward. She landed belly down on the mattress. I landed on top of her, my legs straddling hers, my crotch on her ass.
A new, opposite feeling coursed through me. It was a shot of pleasure. My front, as it pressed against her, felt the taut flesh under her denim pants, felt the curves and the valley between.
I uttered, "Oh, sorry, Gia. You okay?"
"Yes," she said softly, the hint of a whimper in her voice.
I pushed myself to my knees behind her.
She didn't move other than to prop her torso up on her elbows.
"Gia?"
She turned her head slightly to the side—not enough to look back at me. It was like she was waiting.
I looked at her ass.
The two bulbous halves moved, ever so slightly, in a small circle, then stopped.
I had an intense fever. I was freezing cold, and my body craved heat. Gia was a bright, blazing incinerator that drew me closer. I knew it would torch me, but the heat felt so good, especially when it started scalding. I shouldn't, but I had to.
I planted my hands on the mattress on either side of her. I lowered my pelvis onto her ass, and I ground into her.
"Yes," she whispered.
Separated by our clothing, the few shapes and textures that I could perceive were heightened. They fired my imagination, painting at first an unclear image of her naked body in my mind. Every time I pushed myself against her, the image sharpened and gaps in the overall picture filled with details.
My heart raced. My muscles filled with blood and energy. I needed to complete that image. I pushed my burgeoning erection against her ass. Peering down, I watched where the fat tip strained against my shorts. I lowered it against her, at the base of where those two round hills met under her jeans.
Gia began meeting me. She shoved her little butt against my thrusts.
Desire burned in me. I buried my face in her hair, smelling it. I nuzzled aside the silken locks until I found the skin of her neck, and I latched upon it with my lips, grunting as I drove my erection against her.
The tension on my cock was unbearable. I released Gia, sitting back on my heels and reaching frantically for my belt buckle. As I slipped the loose end back through and released the buckle, I glanced at Gia's ass.
Everything slowed down.
Yes, I unbuttoned my shorts.
Yes, I drew them down, along with my underwear.
Yes, I kicked my shoes and the rest from my feet.
Yes, I pulled my shirt off.
But, I did those things while I stared at that brain-breakingly beautiful ass, so it all happened while I was in a kind of hypnotic state.
Completely naked, I was no longer interested in humping Gia from behind. I had to have it—have her ass in every way possible.
I clutched it in my hands. Gia gasped. I squeezed it, foreign the halves together and drawing them apart.
It wasn't enough.
I buried my face into the denim, dead center in her ass. I smelled. I pinched with my lips and sucked. I dragged my tongue through it.
Not enough. More.
In a frenzy, I dove my hands under her, unbuttoning and unzipping the jeans in an instant. I yanked them down and her body briefly followed before the pants gave way and slid down her thighs. I tossed them aside.
Seizing those two full, fleshy halves. I brought my face to her black thong panties. I licked from the crotch to her lower back, following the narrow strip of satin between her cheeks. I licked each globe, kissing and sucking each.
Her skin was flawlessly smooth and supple, warm and taut. She smelled like pussy, and I burned for it.
I needed more.
I slid my fingers under the crotch, feeling her wet labia on the back of my knuckles. I tugged her panties off. Tossing her legs aside, I laid on my belly, hooked my arms under her thighs so that my hands curled over her ass. I pulled her apart and, placing my nose firmly against her anus, I began to devour her pussy.
She tasted wild. I want to eat this pussy all night, I thought.
I wanted her to scream and squeal.
I wanted her to tell me I was killing her.
I wanted her to tell me it was too much, that I had to stop. Then, I would keep going until she came again.
I wanted to smack her hands away when they tried to push me off.
I wanted to use all of my strength to hold in place, keep my tongue on her clit while she thrashed and cried out orgasm after orgasm.
When she collapsed into a post-climactic sleep coma, I wanted to stay right here, between her legs, tasting her.
She did not kick me away, even after her fifth orgasm. Gia gave me complete access, complete trust. As I toiled away on orgasm six, her legs were practically in splits, one foot on the pillows to the left, the other at the foot of the bed on the right. She arched her back to give my tongue a more direct line.
She begged me to lick her asshole, moaning every time I gave her pussy a brief respite.
She pleaded with me to finger fuck her ass. I turned my head sideways and wiggled my index finger inside, gently dipping it and feeling her tightness roll over the knuckle, back and forth.
After her sixth orgasm, I found that my exhaustion had overpowered my desires. I relented, pulling my finger from her ass and rolling over onto my back.
I was tired, but I felt good.
She whispered, "You're the best. Oh, my gosh, that was amazing." She sighed. She moaned with satisfaction, and she ended, saying, "It's yours. My pussy is yours."
My çock felt like it was going to rip through its own skin, but I didn't care. Gia's pussy was mine.
***
I woke before her, hard-on in full flourish. There was light, but I wondered if the fucking thing never even went down all night.
Sometime in the night, I had maneuver onto the bed and under the covers beside Gia. She was on her side, facing me.
An urge welled up inside me. I needed to see Gia's pussy and smell it. Some innate, hard-wired instinct told me I would like it—I would like how things down there looked and smelled in the morning.
I threw the covers down, exposing us. I climbed over Gia, settling in behind her naked ass. Then, I lifted her leg and looked. I inhaled the fragrance.
Beautiful. Her pussy looked and smelled...ready.
I slid up the mattress. Grabbing my erection, I dragged it over the warm skin of her thighs and ass. I drew the tip along the valley of her little butt, from her thighs to her lower back, and down again. And up. I spread her bottom apart with my fingers, placed the tip between, and let the soft heft of the two halves clasp it.
She hummed.
Rolling her onto her back, I spread Gia's legs and maneuvered between them. I kissed her pussy and licked it.
Wet.
Ready.
I rose to my knees.
She looked at me, and I thought, it's irresistible. Those eyes, that body, her face—no man in my position could walk from this.
I glanced between her legs, and there it was, again: that perfect blank. The way the front her body came together—the plane of her stomach and the curves of her thighs—how neatly and without blemish, wrinkle, tuck or fold her body formed a nexus-like slot.
Peering down at myself, I almost snorted at how hideously brutal I was made by comparison.
Gia said my name.
Almost panting, I whispered, "I won't put it in."
"You shouldn't."
"I only wanted to see what it would look like—close, like this."
She nodded. "You can come closer," she uttered. "A little."
"Okay." I lowered my hips.
She craned her head down, watching my cock approach.
I did the same, stopping only when my body aligned with hers. Two inches separated us.
We both turned to each other. She was terrified and thrilled, it seemed. Her chest undulated rapidly. Her lips came apart, and I heard her shuddering respiration.
"I just want to touch you with it," I explained.
"Just touch," she agreed. She raised her legs up and rested them on my shoulders. Then, Gia slid her hands down, under her bottom. She gripped and lifted it. The act allowed her to raise her head from the mattress.
Then, we both bent to watch me touch her.
I brought the tip nearer. It made contact with a soft bump. I reached down, grasped the shaft, and controlled the next touch, gliding the throbbing tip up and down her slit with the gentle pressure of a summer breeze.
I continued the motion, now focused on Gia's face. She bent herself up, and it required great arm and core strength to hold herself in this position, but she must've desperately wanted to watch. Her mouth agape, her eyebrows pinched upward in aching pleasure, her eyes lovingly followed the head of my cock as it slid along her labia.
She must have sensed my eyes upon hers. She looked at me. Our faces were close. She didn't say a word, but a faint whimper vented with her breath.
Her face was a magnet, but the sound acted as a trigger. I leaned in to kiss her; she received me with her lips. She moaned into my mouth, and I gave her my tongue.
Her body relaxed, and I felt her torso lower back to the mattress. I followed, never wishing to break the kiss. I let go of my cock so that I could support my body with both hands.
The head of my erection pressed firmly against Gia's vagina, and it began to yield to me.
Gia must have felt the bulbous tip part her labia. She moaned again, but this time an octave higher. I responded with a rumbling groan.
Instinct told me to keep our lips together. If I drew back, I thought, she might tell me to stop. Besides, it felt too good, this kiss. Everything that made women beautiful and sexy, Gia was imparting to me through her lips and tongue.
I had been using my strength to keep my weight from forcing our bodies together. At that moment, however, I wanted to relax. I felt dizzy joy, and I wanted to let myself down.
A warning—"You must not do this!"—rang out in my mind, but I let its echo diminish like distant thunder in the night.
My muscles slowly released tension. My body lowered. My erection inched into Gia.
She hollered into my mouth. When it ended, her lips attacked mine; her tongue dove through my lips.
The passage of my cock proceeded with agonizing lethargy like the docking of a massive ship of war. Every fraction gained was a new level of paradise. I savored the pace. Her body felt tight down there, and I gave her time to adjust for and to lubricate the new denizen.
Gia cried out her pleasure into my mouth as my cock finally came to rest, harbored snugly.
If I had felt dizzy before, now I was whirling. Every sense grew alert. The taste of her tongue, the smell of her breath, the feel of her lips, the sound of her moans—it all intensified and grew pure like sunlight after a late afternoon thunderstorm.
Hot energy poured into my muscles. Gia's body, like a socket, fed it to me through our connection. I never felt so vitalized.
I growled down Gia's throat.
Turning my focus back to her, I discovered I was already thrusting inside her as if animal instinct swept in to guide me from the moment her body saturated mine with raw power.
Still, we kissed.
Her hands clutched at my lower back and ass, drawing me in, encouraging firmness and speed.
Our bodies began to clap. The intervals between shortened.
Her lips and tongue told me faster, harder.
I hastened.
Moans and cries through my lips told me yes, more.
Our pace accelerated. My body mashed into hers. If it weren't so machine-like in rhythm, one might have called the speed alarmingly wild.
Gia broke the kiss, and she was singing her climax. Eyes pinched shut, this wasn't her whimpering breaths; this was new. Not screaming. Not crying. It was one note, high and filled with exaltation. She pulled me tight, not wanting any more thrusting. She squeezed our bodies together and sang her high note again and again.
I was teetering on the edge of my own crescendo when I felt her body convulse and squeeze my cock as she sang.
I gasped at the surges suddenly welling up inside me. Joining her, I pulled our bodies together, and my cock gushed, squeezing jets of semen as deep into her body as mine would allow.
The moment it ended, Gia cradled my face in her hands and planted wet kisses all over my face, whispering things to me after each.
"The best."
"I love you."
"So good."
"Thank you."
"I love you."
"I love you."
"I love you."
"Do you love me?" she asked after the last one.
I nodded, still sucking air. "Yes, Gia."
She kissed me again.
I rolled off her body, my cock popped out, still erect and wobbling.
Gia's pussy had been astonishing. Something a friend of mine said occurred to me. He had said, "There's four pussies: pussies, pussies you'd fuck, pussies you'd eat and fuck, and there's pussies you'd marry."
Yeah, I thought, I would gladly spend the rest of my life eating and fucking Gia's and none other, but...
I could not complete the thought.
She rolled on her side to me, and her left hand began to rub my chest and stomach.
I didn't know about her, but for me, the guilt was already filling my heart with bile. I felt cold. My nerves were raw. Disappointment and failure embraced me.
I sat up. "I'm going to take a quick shower and grab some breakfast for us. Then we can dance, alright?"
"Oh," she said, "Yes."
"Want anything?"
"Usual, but I feel like a cream cheese danish this time."
I nodded.
We worked the final section that morning. I stayed focused completely on the dance. Gia seemed to be looking for affection—trying to catch my eyes with a smile, light touches on my stomach and ass. I didn't respond. I danced, and I called for us to reset and dance again. Very tiring with lots of athletic moves, we only had an hour before her first class arrived. Both of us were perspiring. I pecked her on the cheek and left.
***
I remained at my parents' home that night.
Gia called me just after 9:00.
"Hi, Gia."
"Hi."
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry I took advantage of you last night. I'm sorry about this morning. I'm..."
"I need you to come over."
"What? Gia, no. We can't..."
"We can talk later. Right now, I want you to take me to get something to eat. I'm starving. Then, I need to pick up my car at O'Brien's."
"Oh. Oh, shit, Gia! I totally forgot about your car."
"It's no big deal. We can get it, but I haven't eaten since you brought me breakfast. Take me to eat. Hurry."
"Be there in ten."
We drove mostly in silence. We sat in a remote booth at one of her favorite burger places in silence. When her appetizer arrived, I started talking.
"So, I'm sorry. I lost control. It won't happen again."
She ate.
"And, geez! I'm really sorry about...about the end."
She furrowed her eyebrows in confusion.
I whispered, glancing to the sides, "About, you know, cumming inside you. I mean, fuck, what if...?"
"I'm on the pill," she interjected.
"Oh. But, it doesn't matter. I did it. I didn't even ask you. I don't even know if I could have stopped myself. I—I should have never let things get so far."
"I'm really sore."
"Yeah? Sorry about that, too."
She ate quietly, thinking, it seemed. I was dying for some kind of response. Finally, she pushed the appetizer plate away and said, "Look, you're beating yourself up, and it's sweet, but it's not like you raped me. I wanted it, too—all of it."
"Okay. I'm glad it wasn't just me."
"We're in this together. I regret things, like you. I never imagined it would get to this point. But, what are we going to do? We can't take it back. We can't avoid each other. We can't cancel the recital. We have to practice together. We have a dress rehearsal with the entire troupe on Thursday. We perform on Friday night."
"I know."
"The question is how do we never let this happen again."
"No more spending the night, for starters," I offered.
"That goes without saying."
"No more hanging out before or after," I added.
She agreed. "You come, we dance, you go."
"Okay."
Her food arrived, and she ate with gusto. When she threw down her napkin, I asked if she felt the way I did with the guilt.
"You know I do," she said, "but it isn't just the guilt that scares me."
"What else?"
She stared at me for a moment, and then, staring at the table, she said, "It was like—like a crazy dare. Do you remember that guy in my grade, Hilt Bettenberg?"
"Got run over by a car? Shit, yeah. What about him?"
"You know what he was doing?"
"Okay, yeah. It was some old movie with college football players laying in the street on highways, on the yellow lines, to show how ballsy they were, right?"
"Yes. So, he and a bunch of other people from our grade started doing it."
"Until Hilt got hit," I said.
"Yes."
"He okay? I thought he only broke some bones."
"Yes."
"So, what about it?" I asked.
"I did it, too. I was one of them."
"What!?" I about jumped out of my chair.
She nodded. "I laid on the yellow lines at night on Highway 47. Three different times."
"Holy shit, Gia."
She nodded. "Still scares me. I still have nightmares."
"I'll bet. Fuck."
She looked at me.
I said, "Why are you telling me this?"
"Because I liked it. It's why I did it again. I would have kept doing it if not for Hilt getting hit and the whole craziness afterward."
"Yeah?"
"What happened last night—for the last week—feels something like that. It's ridiculously crazy, suicidally crazy, but I liked it." She leaned toward me and whispered."Me, too."
She leaned back. "But, we can't. It's beautiful and incredible and perfect, but we can't."
"I know."
She sighed.
We stared at the table for a minute.
"Split the check?" she asked.
"Okay."
***
My "outfit" arrived the next day. Gia called to tell me after her classes ended, and I came over for a fitting. It was a loose-fitting black button-up shirt over tight, dark purple bell-bottoms. An outfit, in other words, for an effeminate pirate.
"Gia."
"What?"
"Let me pick my own outfit. I can't wear this."
"I know it's too small. You're bigger than Nick. We'll get it altered tomorrow."
"It's not the size. It's the look. I'm not wearing this. In fact, one of the reasons I don't dance anymore is because of all the ridiculous outfits I had to wear as a kid."
"It'll be fine. Nobody thinks you're gay."
"I'm not worried about that. I'm just not wearing this outfit. I'll pick out my own."
"I picked this to go with mine!" she argued.
"So, you'll be looking like a pirate's sea wench? Because as partners, that's exactly what your outfit should be. If I have to look like a limp dick, prancing pirate, then you better fucking look like my salty sea nymph."
She giggled. "It's nymph-like."
"Let me see it."
We went to her office, and she pulled it out of a box.
Tiny black boy-short pants and am iridescent purple midriff-bearing spaghetti-strap tank top with dangling beads. Just imagining her in the outfit made me burn.
"Put them on," I said, my voice sounding a bit strained.
She turned and left.
I waited, letting my imagination romp as to how Gia might look in those tiny, tight shorts.
She returned. Holding her arms out, she spun.
I looked for a second, cursed under my breath, and then I turned away. I sat down. It was a bad idea, having her wear them. I said, "Okay, you can take them off."
"What's the matter with you?"
"Thanks, Gia. You can go ahead and take them off. I saw them," I responded with my eyes glued to the floor.
"Is something wrong with this costume?"
"No. Looks great. Please go."
She knelt beside me and lifted my chin.
I closed my eyes. "Gia, I swear to fuck, if you don't get out of here, I am going to...I don't know what I am going to do."
She figured it out, voicing her understanding with a small burst of derisive laughter. "It looks too good on me? Is that what you're saying?" I sensed her standing up in front of me. "Better get used to it. This is what I'm wearing."
"I understand that. Can you just...? Can you please not fuck with me right now?"
"Or what?"
"Or I'm leaving."
"Are you going to wear the outfit I got for you—once we get it fixed?"
"I'm out," I said, standing up rather suddenly and striding out her office door. She reached for my shirt, but I brushed her hand away.
"Hey!" she called. "Hey, wait! I'm sorry!"
"See you tomorrow morning, Gia." I threw open the door to the waiting area and left.
There's never an excuse for a guy taking what wants from a woman. Never. The guy can always leave.
But, I'll say this: the urges—painfully insistent and debilitatingly powerful—they are there sometimes.
***
She texted me: "Are you wearing your outfit?"
I responded, "Do I have to?"
"Yes."
"OK. For you."
"Thank you! Come tomorrow morning."
After a full non-dress rehearsal of our dance, Gia sent me to a woman's home—one of her performer's grandparents—where I tried on the outfit. It did not fit, and the woman took measurements.
She told me she could alter the pants, but the shirt would be impossible unless she could make it short-sleeve.
Drop the poofy sleeves? I thought. Hell, yes.
"Make it short-sleeve."
She told me it would be ready for pick up in a few hours.
I explained all this to Gia in a text.
"You-me dress rehearsal tonight" was her response.
***
The erection began forming the moment I saw her again in her outfit that night. The pants presented Gia's crotch—her blank—to absolute perfection. Her body flattened in places and curved in others in such a way as to direct the eyes straight for her crotch. How, I wondered, can nothing be so exciting?
When she turned around, it became a completely new thrill. The short pants framed the proportions in the sexiest possible way. They showed, better than any swimsuit or panty, the strength of her ass and it's heart-stopping shapeliness.
By the time I held her body against mine, I was fully erect. She knew it. She felt it. As we held the support position, looking at one another from inches apart, she looked excited—open mouth, panting breath, and eager eyes.
She huffed, "Only when we dance."
"Huh?"
"Only when we dance."
I shook my head, confused, but there was no time. The third segment began, and we broke our pose and continued the dance.
We performed it almost perfectly, despite my erection. As we held the final position, I thought about Gia's words—only when we dance. Had she meant that I got hard only when we danced? What the hell did that mean?
Gia relaxed and walked away toward the bathroom.
"Hey!" I called after her. "what did you mean about only when we dance?"
"Come on," she said.
I followed her. She went into the bathroom.
I stood outside the door.
She grabbed something from behind the mirror medicine cabinet and set it on the counter. She waved me in.
Stepping back, she made space for me between herself and the sink.
She put her hands on my waist and turned me towards the countertop and its basin.
"Gia?"
Her fingers unbuttoned my pants. They unzipped them and tugged them down. Her fingers curled underneath my boxers and lifted the waistband over my erection.
She dropped to her knees behind me.
Her fingertips—they pulled my trousers and boxers down, exposing my ass to her.
A moment passed. I waited.
"Gia?"
Her lips pressed against my bare ass. Again. Three times.
I snatched my breath and held it because her fingers wrapped around the shaft of my cock.
Gia kissed and licked the flesh of my ass. Never on the inside, she went left and right, high and low. She rubbed her cheek against it. She let her open lips drag over each hill. I felt her breath wash across it. I heard her whisper something, but I couldn't hear.
She did these things, and she tugged on my cock.
My breathing came in fits and grunts. My erection throbbed in her soft hand.
Gia's tongue dragged over one of my ass cheeks, and she made the tiniest wisp of a whimper as if licking my ass made some little fantasy of hers come to life. She whispered again. I heard it this time. "Only when we dance."
My head fell back, and I looked up at the ceiling. "Fuck that feels good."
It was as if her hands activated a heat pack inside my cock. Not just heat, though. Power, too. My cock felt heavy and strong under her grip. It throbbed with hot energy.
I looked down at it, and I saw what she had placed on the countertop.
Gia's lips came together, and she sucked on my skin.
I grabbed the container that Gia had pulled from the cabinet, and I opened it.
"Is this what you want?" I asked quietly.
Her lips drew away. Her tongue licked. She said, "Yes."
I dragged my middle finger through it, and I wiped it on the tip of my cock.
Gia felt it. She moaned. Her fingers gathered and spread it around the shaft.
"More," she whispered.
I put more on the tip.
She coated my erection with some of it, and then her hand disappeared with the rest.
She rose behind me. I listened to the swish of clothes sliding down flawless, clean-shaven thighs. Gia stepped around me, naked from the waist down, but still wearing the iridescent, frilled top. She walked to the toilet, pulled down the cover, and with her ass facing me, bent down.
I groaned at the sight when her beautiful ass unfurled.
Gia reached between her thighs and massaged the remaining petroleum jelly over her tiny asshole.
I moved behind her, watching.
She pushed a finger inside, slowly pistoning the main knuckle back and forth through the taut opening. She added another finger. She gasped when it overcame the resistance and slipped inside. Gia drove them deeper, and then she waited. A moment later, she withdrew the two fingers.
Gia brought her feet together, and then she bent herself in half, wrapping her arms around her calves and resting her face sideways against her shins. She waited.
"You really want this?" I asked.
"Please."
I stepped to her, angled my cock to the little spot, and began to push.
Gia grunted when the fat, plum tip slipped inside. "Oh, fuck that's tight, Gia."
When I began to push deeper, she delivered a strange, longing cry.
I waited, unsure if I needed to pull out completely.
Her legs moved beneath me, and I felt her fingers slide over my balls. There was movement down there.
Oh, I realized, she's fingering herself.
She huffed, "Okay...okay...okay, more."
I pushed. It took a few minutes for her and me to join together fully. There were pauses and starts. There were a few complete stops and restarts.
The sight beneath me, I admit, seemed alarming. The proportions were all out of whack, like trying to fit a doorknob into a kids balloon. Why she desired this mystified me.
When, finally, I was able to gently and slowly fuck her, there was no doubt about her excitement. She wanted it, voicing her completeness and satisfaction in long, low moans.
My balls pushed against the back of her hand. Her fingers seemed to move more excitedly under me. I continued the methodical pace, anything more would be cruel.
Her orgasm began.
She sounded so sexy that I went from being able to do this for hours to imminent ejaculation in seconds.
I uttered her name.
She cried mine. She told me what to do.
I thrust as deeply as I could, and I held us together.
She unbent herself in one swift movement. I had to lift her a little. She twisted her face up to mine, and we kissed. She screamed into my mouth; I grunted into hers.
When the surges ended, Gia kissed me and thanked me. She told me to leave it inside her as long as I could.
I admitted it to myself: there was something quite beautiful and sexy in what we'd just done. I had my doubts. No longer. It wasn't my first choice, but I'd do it again.
Gia took off her costume shirt, and then she asked me to carry us to the shower. "Don't pull out of me," she said, "if you can."
I let my pants fall to the floor, and I managed to get my shoes and socks off with my feet. Then, I walked us into the shower.
Inside, I turned the faucet head away from us. Gia opened the valve. We both felt the water. When she nodded, I turned the faucet toward us.
"Did you like it?" Gia asked.
"Yes."
"I love you," she said.
"And me you."
"Always?"
I nodded.
Her face went solemn. "But this," she said, glancing at the closeness of our naked bodies, "is only when we dance, okay?"
"Okay."
***
On Thursday night, all of Gia's students filled the dance studio, and she led them through a full dress rehearsal. She introduced me before the start, and I received a spontaneous burst of applause for being willing to step in.
Everyone stuck around for our dance, and the students cheered us on with whoops, screams, and clapping.
It was our first performance in front of others. We nailed it. No hard-on.
A roar of applause greeted our concluding pose. We bowed and hugged each other, and then Gia thanked the kids and reminded them about the plan for the recital the next evening.
As the students filtered out to their parents and rides, Gia leaned to me and whispered, "Only when we dance."
I smiled.
There were many parents with questions and a few last-minute costume concerns, but by almost nine o'clock, the place had cleared out.
"Spend the night here?" she asked.
I nodded.
We kissed and touched in the shower. Later in bed, we fell into a sixty-nine position. I wanted her to cum first, so I lifted her off me several times. She whined and giggled about it, but it worked. I got her, and moments later, she got me.
She must have been so exhausted from all of the preparations that she fell asleep almost instantly afterward.
Late in the night, I awakened. Touching her naked, sleeping body, I grew hard. Gia stirred.
I inched down the bed and began to kiss her beautiful ass. Sliding my hand between her legs, she opened them for me. I pushed my thumb inside her wetness and fucked her with it while my lips and tongue savored the taste and texture of those two fleshy curves.
Her climax was luxuriously feminine—soft and yielding, replete with muted, airy cries.
***
Mom, Dad, and I helped Gia set up the stage for the event on Friday evening—checking the sound system and lights, setting up flowers on the stage, and other logistical necessities. Her students began arriving at 5:15, and at 5:30, they did a full dress-rehearsal. Gia and I did not perform because she wanted to save her energy.
People began arriving in force at 6:30. It became real for me then.
I grew nervous. I hadn't danced in front of others in years. There were so many little things to remember. Did I know them all? Would I do them without slipping up?
I could not fuck this up for Gia.
I took some deep breaths. It wasn't like a football game.
She found me behind the stage and knew immediately that there was a problem. "What's wrong?"
I shook my head. "I'm cool."
"No, you're not."
"I will be."
She glanced around. We were alone.
She cradled my face in her hands and said, "I know you will kick ass tonight, but if it doesn't happen, I want you to know something. First, I won't care. Not a bit." She took a deep breath and continued, "You came home when I felt alone. You helped me when I needed help. You made me feel loved when I felt nothing but shame and worthlessness. You made me feel sexy and wanted when I felt ugly."
"I didn't do much. Come on, Gia."
She slapped my face. Pretty hard. "Are you pumped?" she yelled.
"Shit, Gia!"
She slapped the other side.
"Fuck!" I yelled.
She stood there and smiled. "Isn't that what football players do before games?"
I laughed. "Dumb ones, maybe."
***
We stomped the shit out of it.
I'd never seen Gia so happy in my life. The recital ended at just after 8:00 pm, but Gia was chatting and accepting thanks and praise until quarter after nine. She and I remained behind to make sure everything was back in order, and then I drove her back to the studio.
"Only when we dance," she said on the way home with a huge grin.
I returned the smile, already starting to grow hard.
She noticed and rubbed me a few times.
As I turned into the parking lot, my headlights swept across a person standing in front of the door to Gia's studio.
"Whoa," I muttered.
Gia didn't speak.
I glanced at her, and her smile vanished.
I slowed down and looked closer.
Nick.
Gia's ex-fiancee. He waved at her.
"Oh," I said, stopping the car.
Silence. Sniffles.
"I can turn around," I offered. "I'll take us back to Mom and Dad's to celebrate."
"Pull in," she said quietly.
I did, parking in front of him. He raised his hand in acknowledgment of me.
I did not respond.
He shrugged his shoulders.
"Need me to come?" I asked her.
Gia turned to me with red, tear-filled eyes. She sniffled, wiped her nose, and said, "I'm a big girl."
"I'll wait. Send me a text."
"Okay."
Gia climbed out.
She and Nick spoke for a minute, and then they went inside together. I could see them talking in the vestibule area.
Minutes later, my phone buzzed.
"All fine. You can go."
I drove home.
I didn't hear from Gia that night or the next morning when I drove back to school for summer conditioning.
***
Apparently, Gia and Nick resumed their relationship, but it only lasted three weeks. I heard about it from Mom and Dad. Gia didn't call or text me once in all that time.
I was really, really pissed off at her.
The first time she reached out was a week or so after the final break-up. I didn't respond.
When the football season started, I texted her: "Do not come to any of my games."
I hooked up with an art major. She was pretty, and she had a nice body, but nothing compared to Gia's.
The season went really well. I stayed healthy, and I led the team in receptions, won conference player of the week once. I was named to the all-conference second team at the end of the season.
My parents mentioned it earlier in the fall, but I didn't remember: during winter break, the whole family was headed to Nashville for our cousin's wedding. Mom and Dad had reserved a block of three rooms for us at the hotel and bought plane tickets.
There would be no avoiding Gia.
But, I was going to try like hell.
I sat next to Mom on the plane. Dad sat with Gia. The next morning, I feigned illness in order to miss family breakfast. I had other plans for lunch. Caught an early ride to the church and made my own way to the reception hall after the ceremony.
I kept Mom and Dad between us at the table during the reception. Gia left and came back with fresh drinks for herself. She didn't appear drunk, but she was well on her way.
After all of the traditional events—cutting the cake, throwing the flowers, and such—the music began. We watched the bride and groom do their thing.
I knew I could leave afterward, and I rose from the table.
Mom took my hand. "Dance?" she asked.
"Anything for you, Mom," I replied with a smile.
"Then," she said, leading me around the table toward Gia, "dance with your sister. For me." She drew my hand toward Gia.
When Mom let me go, I left my hand there, extended toward Gia.
She took it, and I escorted her to the floor. She was in a teal mini-dress, and she looked incandescently sexy.
A party song began. The dance floor thrummed to the exciting beat. I took Gia's waist and her hand. We swayed gently while everyone else went crazy.
"Congratulations on your season," she said.
I nodded, keeping my eyes away from hers, scanning the room over her head.
"I'm not sorry for Nick," she declared. "He deserved a second chance. We were in love once, in love enough to want to marry each other." I could feel her eyes scrutinizing my face. They were like magnets. I wanted to look.
But, I didn't.
She went on. "When you're in love, you forgive each other's mistakes, even the big ones when it comes to marriage." She sighed, and I felt her eyes move from me to the floor. "That's the commitment," she said.
I nodded.
Silence.
Sniffles.
She put her face in my chest, crying. I heard her muffled, sobbing voice ask, "Are you going to hate me forever?"
I didn't reply. I hugged her close to me.
Mom was watching us. She saw me wrap my arms around Gia. Mom put her hand over her heart, and she reached out and took Dad's hand, smiling.
Gia was absolutely destroyed from the moment I pulled her to me. I knew she didn't want to be seen this way. Without a word, I led her to the elevator. She cried almost uncontrollably the entire way. She hugged me on the ride up, and she collapsed on the long walk down the corridor to her room. On her hands and knees, she sobbed. Tears fell to the carpet.
I scooped her up and carried her the rest of the way. I opened the door with my card and placed her on the bed.
She wouldn't let me go, so I laid behind her. A new bout of mournful wailing came over her, and I rubbed her shoulder.
The touching seemed to calm her, and a few minutes later, she fell into a snoring, deep sleep.
I slid out from behind her and undressed.
I climbed into the other queen bed and watched television. Late that night while Gia slept, I turned it off.
The lights outside the hotel room window illuminated falling snowflakes. I slid out of bed and walked over to watch them fall.
I wondered if I should forgive her.
Yes, I had been frustrated that my plan to eat her pussy and fuck her like never before had been thwarted by Nick's sudden arrival. I wanted to celebrate our success with her. I couldn't deny that a part of me was quite upset about that missed moment.
But, that wasn't the real source of my fury.
I had done Gia a favor, and not any simple, ten minute deal like fixing a flat tire. I had sacrificed weeks of time to help her in a jam. I was happy to do it for her.
I needed a thank you. I needed an "I couldn't have done it without you." I needed more than an "All fine. You can go."
I understood that the rekindling of her relationship with Nick consumed her time and energy. But, she couldn't take a few minutes to see me off to school? Or call me, thank me, and wish me well?
I heard Gia move under the sheets behind me.
She probably fucked Nick that night, I suddenly thought.
I silently cursed and rage burned within me.
When it passed, I wondered if, maybe, I was wrong. Maybe it was about sex.
My body jolted when a soft hand touched my shoulder.
"I'm sorry," Gia whispered.
I glanced at her, and then back out the window.
"It's beautiful," she said, watching the snowflakes.
Her hand slid up and down the skin on my back. It felt incredible, but I had to know. "Did you fuck him that night?"
Gia looked up at me, and her hand stopped.
"Nick," I said. "After the recital. Did you fuck him?"
Her eyes grew watery as she looked up at me. The room remained silent except for the soft thrumming of the heater.
She sniffed and nodded.
I turned to the window, shook my head and whispered, "For fuck's fuckin' fuck, Gia." I looked at the snowflakes for a few seconds, and then I turned around and laid back down in my bed.
She watched me.
"I'm the one who came back. I'm the one who practiced every day, sometimes twice. I'm the one who supported you. I'm the one who took you out for a night to be social again, and I picked you up when you were drunk. Shit, I'm the one who fucking danced!" I was digging my index finger into my own chest. In my anger, my upper body has risen off the bed. I sunk back to the pillow.
She stepped toward the bed, wiping her eyes.
"The minute Nick shows up, I'm forgotten. Dismissed." I brought my hands up as if I were texting on a cell phone. "'You can go.' The fuck was that? You never thank me? You never come to say goodbye when I leave for school? You never even fucking called me!" I was almost upright. My face was red with rage. Thrusting my finger at my chest, I hollered, "I'm the one who earned it!"
"Is that what this is about? Earning me? Earning my pussy?" Her face went red. She called to the room, yelling, "Who gets to fuck Gia?" She turned to me and answered her own question with bitter sarcasm. "Whoever earns it."
She was right to be angry. "It's not...it's not just about sex. I misspoke. I'm sorry."
"Explain what you just said then, if it's not just about fucking me."
"It's about being the one who takes you places, the one who brings a smile to your face, the one you call when you need help, and...yes, I'll admit it: the one you want to sleep beside and touch and fuck. It's all of that together. It's being the one you love."
She remained quiet for a few moments. My words had softened her anger. Finally, she said, "That's a beautiful thing to say, but I can't marry you," she said, "and even if I could, I wouldn't because of our family."
"I know that."
"So?"
"So, on the night of the recital, everything went perfectly. I was jacked for you. You were beautiful and sexy and everyone loved you that night. I drove you home, and you told me 'only when we dance.' I think, yes, this is the perfect way to end these two amazing weeks. We fuck each other's brains out, and we go to sleep in each other's arms. Yes. One part of our relationship—the sex—ends, a new part—how intimately we know and love each other as brother and sister—begins. We thank each other. We say good-bye to each other. Our lives move forward. It's the perfect ending."
Gia sat on the bed.
I quietly said, "That's how it was supposed to be."
She nodded, wiping away more tears. "It would have been beautiful that way. I'm sorry that I took you for granted that night. I'm sorry that I let you down...let us down. Can you forgive me, please?"
"I forgive you, Gia, and I'm sorry for being a dick to you these past six months."
"It's okay. I deserved a lot of it." She rubbed my leg, and then she rose from the bed and went to the bathroom.
I sighed, glad that it was behind me and still a little wistful at what had been lost.
Gia came out, and she walked to the window. She pulled the curtains closed, leaving a much smaller opening. I could still see the snowfall. "Is that dark enough for you to sleep?"
"Fine. Yes."
The room was much darker, but not pitch black. Silhouettes were clear. Colors were barely distinguishable. Gia walked towards the door to the hall.
"Goodnight, Gia. I love you," I called to her.
She stopped and turned, standing at the corner where the closet and bathroom wall met the hallway to the door. She was looking at me. I heard a deep breath.
"Gia?"
"You were amazing tonight," she said.
"I was?"
"Mm-hmm." She began walking toward me. "I want you to know how grateful I am for you coming home, practicing with me, and dancing at the recital tonight."
I wasn't sure what to say.
"There was no recital without you. You saved it. But, more than that," she went on, "I want to thank you for making me feel loved again these past weeks."
She stopped beside the bed, standing next to my hip. I was speechless.
"I know you have to leave tomorrow and we have to say good-bye, but I'll come to some of your games. Then, we'll see each other at Christmas. There's the wedding, too. We'll see each other there, won't we?"
I swallowed and said, "Yeah."
She pulled her mini-dress over her head and dropped it to the floor. She unhooked her bra. It fell. Then, she slid down a pair of tiny, string panties. She knelt beside me, and her soft hands began to rub my chest and belly. "Maybe," she said, "we can dance together at the wedding. Would you like that?"
"Yeah, Gia. I would."
Her fingertips slid under my boxers. I raised my hips, and Gia drew my underwear off.
She was smiling. I could see the glistening of her teeth in the near darkness. Holy shit, she was beautiful.
"Me, too," she whispered, wrapping her fingers around my cock and stroking two, three, four times. "Because you know what happens only when we dance."
She slowly cranked my erection towards my right hip where her mouth awaited its arrival. She bent toward it, and she kissed the tip. She licked it, and then she clasped it with her lips.
What followed was the slowest and most sensual blow job I ever experienced. Gia nursed and suckled on the tip while her fingers massaged up and down the shaft. She climbed onto the bed between my legs. There, she stroked me at a crawling pace while she sucked on each my testicles in turn, giving both the soft, caring attention of her wet mouth for minutes on end.
Satisfied, she rose and hovered over the tip as the shaft twitched in anticipation. She planted her hands beside my hips, and then her head fell in slow motion. I watched my entire cock vanish through her lips.
The noises she made—little hums of satisfaction, slurps of savoriness, and gasps of rapture—drove me past the limit of ecstasy. Twice, she brought me to the brink, only to ease off and let me slide back down where she started all over again.
Her pace never increased. I watched every inch of my cock disappear and emerge, over and again, in and out of Gia's mouth with the languor of a sleeper's breathing. For the third time, I peaked. She knew, but this time she held in place, with her lips tightly securing the root of my cock and the rest nestled snugly in the wet warmth of her throat.
I grunted her name. She issued a short, high moan. Then, my body released.
Gia didn't move as my penis swelled inside her throat. The throbbing contractions meted out what felt like wave upon wave of liquid power.
When it ended, she remained, unmoving, for a long time. I heard her swallow. Her mouth opened with a gasp. Rushes of air swept up and down the shaft as it gradually emerged from her mouth.
I pulled her to me, and she rested her head on my chest. I kissed her, thanked her, and told her how amazing it had felt. She told me that she loved everything about my cock. She said that if she were my wife, she would suck on it every day.
I rubbed her back, thinking about her words. I wondered what I would do to her every day. I could think of a lot of things. What wouldn't I do? I supposed that I couldn't fuck her tits. They were too small for that.
Then it dawned on me how Gia, though never once mentioning it, perhaps sometimes felt envious of other women's breasts. I had certainly neglected Gia's tits as a lover. I imagined other men in her life had, too. With such legs, such a pussy and ass, what was the point?
I gently moved her onto her back. I climbed between her legs, and I whispered, "I've got to have your tits, Gia. Just been dreaming about them."
She looked up at me as if I were joking.
I didn't give it the time. I wanted her to know how serious I was. I kissed them and stroked them. "Fuck, yes," I whispered. I pinched a nipple and sucked on the other one.
Her small breasts made me want to be gentle and loving, never rough. I felt like a kid with a strange, new toy—one he wasn't quite sure how it worked, but one that he knew he could make "go." All of my senses and energies were focused on Gia's tits. I explored everything about them.
What finally triggered Gia was feeling me grow hard against her. It was then, I think, she knew that I wasn't kidding—that I really liked her little tits.
When I sucked her nipples, she began to moan and tell me, "Yes."
After ten minutes of unceasing, yet soft breast and nipple play, I rose above her.
She pulled my face towards her and kissed me, machine gun-like, all over my cheeks and lips. When she stopped, she said, "No guy has ever done that to me before. I never thought my tits were very exciting for guys."
"Not exciting?" I asked, and then I pushed the head of my cock against Gia's pussy.
"Oh!" she cried, and then an enormously joyful grin spread on her face.
I bent down and licked one of her nipples.
When I came back up, she said, "Lay down."
We switched places. Gia straddled me. She reached back, grabbed my cock and lined it up. When she let go, she sat back against it, grunting as my erection stretched and charged her body.
Once fully connected, she bent down and kissed me. Our tongues intermeshed, and she began to ride my cock.
I didn't move. I let her do what she wanted with me.
She started slowly, and at some point, she found her spot. Her energy ramped up. The bed rocked to her rhythm. She rode hard. Her head sagged toward her chest, and her hair obscured her face as it shook.
Gia collapsed on my chest, but her ass continued to drive down into me. She called my name, and I grabbed her ass and began to thrust with her. Our bodies slapped, and she cried out several times before sighing and melting into me, it seemed.
I held her butt and continued to push inside her gently. A minute later, she rose and said, "You don't know how good that feels."
I used my leverage on her ass to lift myself to her lips.
We kissed, and she said, "I like your hands on my ass."
"So do I."
"Feels good in your hands?"
I nodded.
She stopped me. "I'll let you look and feel." Gia climbed off me and spun around. On all fours, she scooted back toward me, and I groaned at the sight. In position, I guided myself into her pussy, and she let her body weight drive my cock home.
She held for a moment, adjusting herself, and then she did something that made me gasp, made my cock throb inside her, and made my hands almost instinctively reach out and clutch the two curvy halves of her ass.
She arched her back.
In my experience, more often than not women were most comfortable curling forward in the reverse cowgirl position. Their backs pushed out, and their asses almost disappeared. Gia did the exact opposite. She drew her lower back in, pushing out her butt in a swooping curve that presented that part of her body in the most erotic way imaginable.
Then, she rode me, occasionally looking back at me over her shoulder.
I could not help but thrust along with her as my hands caressed and squeezed her ass.
"I'm going to cum, Gia."
"I know," she said.
I tried to respond, but the feeling was so good that I gasped. I snatched a breath and uttered, "Gia, let me kiss you when I cum."
She stopped moving, and I quickly repositioned us in the missionary. When I penetrated her, we kissed. She moaned.
She liked it. Holy shit. The kissing and fucking brought her to climax even before me. She broke it only to issue a piercing cry, sustaining it as her fingers dug into my ass. Her pleasure pushed me over. I covered her lips with mine, grunting as my cock surged inside her and fed her body my hot fuel.
I broke the kiss to let out a rumbling growl as the feeling crested.
"I love you," she cried. Again. Again. Each time she said the words, her voice diminished until, finally, it was a whisper in my ear.
***
Years passed. Careers started, stopped, and re-started. Marriages happened. Children arrived. Through it all, Gia and I remained close, talking on the phone at least twice a week and spending family holidays and vacations together with our own spouses and kids.
It might amaze some to discover how often a brother and sister who love one another can find opportunities to dance.
Status Power Mingguan
-- Peringkat
Power 
-- Power
stone