Model Behavior

Jane was a model, tall with a devastatingly toned torso and pert breasts. Colorful tattoos on her arms. Dirty blonde hair and clear eyes that blew me away every time she fixed me in place with her silly shy smile. Too quickly after meeting her I was smitten and nervous, wondering how the hell I'd gotten her attention.

I tried my best to play my role. I was newly twenty and she was only the second girl I'd ever been serious about. Definitely the first to ever get past a talking stage with. I presented more masc with short hair and a good 3 inches on her. As a femme, she had done all the chasing of my dense ass and once it finally clicked that she wasn't just being nice to me, complimenting me and brushing her body against mine, I was all in.

I loved being desired by her.

The first night I went over to her place, she had just arrived back into the city. She'd been away in Europe for work and wanted to waste no time in seeing me again. I was anxious to find out what was behind all our late night texts and flirty face time calls. Were they real? Or had she just needed some fun to stave off her boredom alone on another continent?

I arrived at her door, nervous and sweaty from half walking, half jogging with a humorously oversized bouquet in one hand. She opened the door with her hair still damp from the shower. I could smell her fresh shampoo when she jumped into my arms. Feeling her body stretched against me, one of her hands finding its place in my hair, I felt a flame roaring anew. 

I was falling for her. And I was going to do everything in my power to convince her to be mine.

She giggled and blushed at the flowers. I could only try to contain my pride at putting that sweet smile on her face. I was barely keeping my line of sight discreet on the droplets of water running down Jane’s shoulders and collarbone from her earlier shower as she laughed and petted my arm.

Her roommate teased us and asked what had happened while she was away. Jane and I looked at each other—in a moment, all of our late night conversations and pictures flashed through our minds. We sputtered and blushed to her laughter. 

After dinner, she and her roommate smoked out the window together. I watched in disbelief that their window on the sixteenth floor had no screen and a straight drop to the courtyard. They offered me a puff but I stuck to the cans of margaritas. My brain was high enough off of her attention. Plus, I didn't want to smoke and get too talkative, possibly ruining my quote unquote "mystery.”

As their chatter started fading into nonsense and their eyes grew heavy, Jane crawled back to me, asking me to stay. But I had no intention of leaving.

I was anchored to the place by the barely-there length of her shorts that exposed the round curve of her ass underneath. My seat on the floor gave me a prime view of her gorgeous legs trailing up. I was hoping she was reacting to me like my body was reacting to hers. Wet. 

Her low-cut camisole, well worn and soft over her breasts had me turning my head away whenever she leaned over me. 

Every move felt like a trick, or better yet a lure, tempting me closer to take a bite.

We slid close together in her twin bed, facing the wall, whispering about nothing and everything. Her soft hips pressed firmly against mine. Once, in the middle of a sentence, cutting off my train of thought. Twice, as she emphasized how far away I was on the edge of the bed. I kept begging her to stop moving. Her roommate was right there. I could feel her smile into my bicep as she crept her hand up to my hip and grinded firm into me. I had to control my gasp in her hair when she tickled her fingers into my waistband.

I called out her name softly, and asked if she was sure. She replied that she had an idea and sat up over me, cradling my head and forcing me to look up at her beaming smile. She knew she had me. The next question was only "How?"

We had to be quiet. That much was obvious. Even though her roommate was high as hell and sleeping with headphones, there was another room with two other models. They hadn't made a peep all night, Nordic and standoffish in their interactions with us. But there was a middle living room with a perfectly empty futon.

We crept out of the bedroom together, Jane pushing the small twin sized comforter into my arms to hold. Tiptoeing like the horniest spies of the century.

She made for the futon that was folded into the couch position. I looked at her with a raised brow. It was no bigger than the bed we'd just left and out in the middle of the open room.

She hushed at me despite the fact that I was silent and went to pull it out. The creak that echoed through the roominspired me to throw the blanket over myself in a crouch, peeking out at her muffled laughter, not wanting to show my cheeks flaming. I was hot with trepidation, and well, lust.

But Jane went on, inch by inch, pausing at each creak and whine of the bolts and cheap wood, listening for any movement from either bedroom. I helped her ease the futon into a full spread and it lay open, like an invitation.

"After you," she gestured politely, her smile full of teeth. I barely moved forward when her hands fisted into my shirt and firmly but gently pushed me down onto my back.

She was quick to dive between my legs once the blanket settled over us. I could barely breathe from nerves. How did she get my shorts down so quickly? And, oh my god, what was she doing with her tongue?

Part of me was relieved she wanted to go first. I wanted time to think about what I would do next. The silent tick of a clock helped my focus as I tried to keep my breathing low while she swirled her tongue over my clit for the first time.

Holy fuck, this could get addicting. I wanted more and she was going to give it to me. I felt her moan into my pussy as I became wetter and wetter, the tension in my stomach coming undone. She leaned into my squirms and held my legs spread when I made the slightest motion to close them. Relentless in making me come, she kept her tongue flat in long strokes from my hole to my clit and back again.

I wanted to scream. Sex had been nice before, usually a quick fuck and a send off, but I leveled up the moment she slid two fingers into me without missing a beat, her tongue still on me. I'd never been fingered before—she was curling inside me, beckoning me, holding me in place—it almost became too much. I whimpered for her keeping going, to go harder, to fuck yes, just like that, oh my god I can’t, fucking, believe it. 

I was beginning to lose control over my voice when her hand came up to cover my mouth.

I felt her whisper to hold on for her against my skin and with a final twist and steady pump of her fingers I came heavily, shuddering onto her lips while she started short rough motions on me. Tonguing me through my first real orgasm.

What the fuck, I thought, once I could breathe normally. My body was floating and spasming at the same time. Her fingers filled me so perfectly and threatened to make me cry out for her. I could’ve sworn she was caressing my heart with them. 

She moved the blanket to come back up to me, fingers still inside, and kissed me deeply. I was too brain dead to say anything, so I took her tongue deep into my mouth as she moved her hips in time with her thrusts. I could only hold her shoulders, panting her name in a whisper over and over again. Shaking against her as she drove me into another release.

I had tears in my eyes from the intensity and she softly kissed them away. I felt her tongue dart over her lips as she rested against my cheek, panting on top of me.

But I was not to be outdone.

I shimmied my hands down to her waistband and pulled. She twitched her hips against me, moving her fingers again deeper and I had to bite down a gasp.

"It's my turn, please." I tried to be coy in her ear but I was near begging. Trying to move my hands down and inside her shorts while she kept up her teasingly slow pace. I was losing focus.

"But you feel so good," She whispered. "Why not one more time?"

I didn't know if I could handle more of whatever magic she was doing to me. And I knew I wanted to make her come, too.

I rose on one elbow and kissed her. Slowly pushing her further up to her knees and then onto her back, her fingers finally retreating.

We took a brief intermission to wrestle the blanket back over us while also trying not to agitate the noisy futon. You'd think it was the one getting fucked by all the sounds it tried to let out.

Finally covered, I came face to face with her. Looked deep into her eyes. I could just make out her features this close. I was swept with the urge to thank her, to confess whatever this swelling feeling in my chest was, to grip her face, and consume her fully. But how would I get that across without sounding like a clingy fresh virgin for her? Which I fully was.

She tilted her lips up to mine. Sweet and filled with affection. I felt her moan straight into my hear, which had taken residence in my throat.

I prayed she couldn't feel my hand tremor as I reached for her.

She was so wet. I felt a beaming of pride that she was this affected. By me. For me. 

My hand slid over her, palming how soft she was, her lips parting easily as I went in broad strokes. Her chin lifted up as she threw her head back into the cushion. I moved down and sucked on her nipples before she guided me further. 

I kissed her thigh and all at once took her clit into my mouth. Pull your teeth back, my inner monologue ensued. Though I soon realized she loved the soft graze of them as I moved my mouth to consume all of her. Lips and tongue with even pressure, just like that, look at how she wants me.

Her breathing was short and high, sounds from her vocal cords threatened to spill out but ended in an inaudible cry.

She tasted like nothing I've ever tasted before or since. I was cocooned by her smooth thighs with all my senses fixated on her.

And then—the sound of a door opening came from around the corner.

Her roommate walked across the living room to the bathroom, nearly sleepwalking, unaware that we were currently in the middle of some unclothed exercising. My mouth was inches from diving back into her pussy, a mix of saliva and her slick still on my lips.

Part of me wanted to tease a sound out of her. But for my first time going down on a woman, I couldn't help the small shame I felt almost being caught in the act.

Until the bathroom door fully closed, I was frozen. Breath heavy over her clit which I then realized was driving her crazy. Her hand found the back of my head, fisting my curls and placing my tongue back exactly where she wanted it.

I happily followed her guidance, moving with her hips as she had done for me, focusing on each reaction from my movements. She loved when I curled my tongue against the top of her entrance, as deep as I could bury it inside. My thumb massaged tight small circles over her clit.

Her voice was hoarse as she begged me to thrust into her harder, rougher and keep my mouth on her all the while. I spaced out, thinking only of her and how I could make her break under me. I continued my pace through each orgasm, high breathy whines leaving her breathless.

When I looked up at her and placed my hand against her mouth, I felt her cheeks were wet with tears.

I felt her clench around me and shake with a tremor that came from deep inside her. Her hand grabbed onto my curls again, this time forcefully wrenching my head away and up to her for a kiss.

We continued flipping each other and fighting to make the other cry mercy all night long. Until we were caught by the birds stirring by the window, we laid kissing and giggling before we crept back into her small bed. Clothes swapped in the dark, she was now in my shirt. We left the futon couch open.

Back in the room, she burrowed into my chest for our few hours of sleep before her roommate woke.

Mumbling something sleepily that I only caught the end of, she passed out with a hand under my shirt. It was warm on my breast. I let out a huffed laugh in disbelief. Before I followed her to sleep I could only think of how I'd just fucked my first girlfriend on a pull out futon (I asked her officially the next morning) and she'd just told me she loved me without a question of my reply. As if she knew that I already did.