"Get them coated all over -- nice and deep," I commanded. Rosalee bent her knees again and had to wriggle her arm a little further in but I could tell when she accidentally brushed her clit and when she pushed her fingers up inside herself."Wait!" I whispered urgently. "I think someone's coming. Don't move."Really mean! Rosalee couldn't see, couldn't know I was bluffing. She stood there with my fingers still in her mouth and hers in her cunt and her heart pounding not only from her release but now from the adrenalin that fear sent spreading through her bloodstream.Had her pussy contracted around her fingers? Did they rub inside her as I leaned her sideways to supposedly look past her?"I was mistaken, they went the other way."Rosalee had her hand out in an instant.Getting caught with a boy in the shadows would have earned her a lecture on being safe at all times. Getting caught with her hand down her own pants probably would have added an extended grounding.She raised her hand. What was that? Hamlet? I slept.Everyone tells me it is common for people to have that experience, to have been open and free with a special one, then the next time to be shy. We were like that, remembering the kissing and the caressing and the moonlight, but caught in the fluorescent lights and Formica-topped library tables. Surrounded by the knowledge of nations, neither could think of much to say. Saying and thinking were different things, though. I kept wondering what she looked like naked. I knew this game my mind played with me, knew it made talking harder and that I should concentrate. But no. Thoughts slipped in, asking myself what sounds she made when she fucked, wondering if she would like the things I liked, while we hemmed and hawed about office hours and some professor I'd have to meet. We said nothing about the kissing. Finally, in desperation, she invited me to dinner.It was the same there at first, even in her ancient little house so rich with history that it had a.
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