Title: That Kind of Girl Author: Pywacket Email: Pywacket1975@hotmail.com Classification: S, MSR Spoilers: into the future, oh a couple of years. Archive: Knock yourself out. Rating: NC-17 Disclaimer: They are not mine, if they were, I'd let 'em do stuff "on screen." Feedback: I lap it up. Thanks to Ktblle for building a lovely website. This is dedicated to her. Visit my other stories at: http://www.angelfire.com/ms/KtblleStorage/main.html -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- "I can't believe you want to watch this movie," he said, jostling her as he dropped onto the sofa. A few kernels of popcorn fell out of the bowl on her lap. "You don't like the movie?" she asked, tossing a piece of popcorn in the air and expertly catching it on her tongue. That wonderful little pink tongue. "I love the movie. I just didn't think Animal House was your kind of film. Pretty lowbrow, what with all that juvenile humor and puerile sex." "Well, I guess that shows how little you know about me, even after all these years. I can watch John Belushi suck up a whole plate of jello over and over, and it cracks me up ever time. Besides, there is something to be said for puerile sex." "You still have the ability to amaze me," he said, yawning and stretching his arm along the back of the couch. "Animal House. Didn't see that one coming." "Are you going to talk through the whole movie?" The sparkle in her eyes belied her stern tone. He eased his arm down around her shoulder. "Good thing Will crashed early, huh. You know, with your hair in that pony tail, you could be the baby-sitter," he said, one finger flicking the end of her hair. "A very old baby-sitter, maybe." "Nah. You look like a teenager--as if you should be doing your algebra homework. But instead of studying, you let your older boyfriend come over." "Older boyfriend, huh. College man?" He wasn't sure, but her voice seemed to be getting breathier. "Yeah, a college guy. The other girls are wildly jealous, but if your parents find out they'll ground you for life." His hand drifted over her shoulder into chest territory. "You know Will's parents would have a cow if they knew you were over," she said as she nestled against him. "They don't let you have guests over, huh?" he asked. He cupped her sweater-covered breast, feeling the nipple harden against his palm. "They're very strict," she said, removing his hand and leaning forward to place the popcorn bowl on the coffee table. "Behave yourself. Remember, I'm a good girl." She sat back, hands clasped in her lap, eyes focussed on the television. He noted the pink blush of her cheeks and the little smile that curved her lips. "Oh, I bet you're good." He leaned closer, tilting her chin up. Her lips were pink and soft and he covered them with insistent kisses. Her mouth opened under his, and he took full advantage. "Very, very good," he breathed into her mouth. His tongue explored her mouth, salty and sweet. His hand wandered back to her breast, and she moaned as he kneaded the soft flesh through her sweater. Hoping she was distracted by the kissing, he slipped his hand under the hem of her top. She gasped as his hand found the bare skin above her waist, but she didn't push him away. And now his palm closed over the silky fabric of her bra. She hummed into his mouth as he eased her breast out of the cup, his fingers tweaking the hard little pebble of her nipple. Pushing him back, she broke away from his kiss. "I'm not sure we should be doing this. I have to do my algebra homework." He renewed his onslaught of kisses, gently sliding her down until they reclined on the sofa, his body partly covering hers. He was sure she could feel his erection against her hip. God, he was as hard as a teenager. "Don't worry," he assured her. "I bet you never even use algebra when you get out of school." His hand drifted to her other breast, scooping it out of the bra. He dropped his mouth to one pink-brown nipple, framed between the bunched up sweater and the silky band of her bra. She writhed under him as his lips closed over the tip. Rolling one nipple between his fingers, he increased the gentle sucking on its twin until her hips were bucking against him. His hand drifted to the snap on her jeans, working the zipper down and sliding his hand over her smooth skin. Her body arched as he slipped his fingers under the edge of her panties and found her hot, slick center. "Oh, god," she gasped as his fingers worked their way further into the tight tunnel between her body and her jeans. "I've been told...oh my....that it's bad to let a boy touch you 'down there'." "Does this feel bad?" he asked, moving his thumb over her clit. "Oh...oh god...no, it feels really...good." She seemed to be having difficulty forming words, which made him absurdly happy. The eighteen-year-old that lived in his head was having a great time. "Then, how can it be bad?" he asked, tugging her jeans and panties down as she raised her hips. "Good....point," she squealed as he slipped a finger into her. So hot, so very slick, her body quivered from within. Intent on his exploration of her body, he barely felt her hands stroking his back. But when those hands slipped between them and stroked the hard length of him through his jeans, his head snapped up. He pressed himself into her firm grip. He couldn't wait much longer, the need to drive himself into that hot, wet perfection. He tugged the jeans over her hips and down her legs, casting them aside impatiently. She lay before him, legs spread, hips arching off the sofa. "Hurry," she moaned. His trembling hands obeyed her as he pushed down jeans and boxers, too impatient even to step out of them. There was something incredible about the feeling of clothing between them as he lay above her, underscoring the urgency with which he wanted to bury himself in her. She'd pushed his shirt up to run her hands over his chest and he felt the bulk of her sweater and the cool softness of her breasts against his skin. He braced himself on his elbows, his hard body cradled against the heat of her center. Poised at her opening, he gazed at her. Her cheeks were flushed pink and her lips slightly parted. There was a look in her eyes that no teenager could even fathom, so passionate and loving that his heart seemed to stop beating. She bit her lip as he pushed into her, her head turning from side to side in ecstasy. Part of him wanted to pump fast and furious, racing to release. But the adult man held that part back, slowing his strokes, savoring the moment. The unhurried pace allowed him to register all the sensations. He felt her hands skimming along his sides, over his shoulders, down his back, the fingers kneading the flesh of his ass. The sounds of the movie drifted into his consciousness, shouts of "Road trip!" bringing a smile to his lips. Beneath him, her breathing quickened, moans becoming gasps, proceeding to the delicious guttural sound she made deep in her throat when she climaxed. Nothing on the planet could push him over the brink of his own orgasm faster than the pulse of her around him and that one sound. Moments later, he followed her over that summit and into the soft pillow of satiety. Afraid of crushing her with his spent body, he shifted them to lie side by side. A smile played over her face, lighting her eyes. "So tell me, will you still respect me in the morning?" End.