The Ninth Post

4 o'clock in the afternoon, I stood at the steps of the dance academy and waited for Reneé. She appeared a minute later, in a short dress and heels. We smiled, hugged, and kissed. She smelled faintly of sweat.

Halfway between the building and the car, blood thundering in my brain, I kissed her for serious. She kissed me back, hard. Our teeth clapped. Her lips were soft. She tasted like gum.

In the car, on the freeway, I took my hand off the gear lever and ran it up her skirt. Her pussy was gaping and hungry. She put the seat back and her right foot on the dash. My fingers were pruned by the time we pulled into my apartment lot.

She drank a glass of water. She was slightly nervous. I watched from my sofa. Slightly aroused. She was young and very pretty. She had long, fine, bone-straight blond hair. Strong legs. A dancer's legs.

"What do you dance?" I asked her.

"Jazz ballet."

"Cool. You joining a troupe?"

"They'll never use me. I'll be teaching, probably."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm too tall. Too big boned."

"You're a fucking statue. You're beautiful. They're stupid, your body's amazing."

"Think so?"

"What I can see so far, yeah."

She bent down and put the glass of water on the floor. We looked at each other and she was flushed. She pulled her skirt up and pulled her panties down and let them drop around her ankles. She bit her lip. I bit mine. She looked at me again, as I stared at her panties. I could see the outline of my hard cock in my jeans. She could see it, too.

"Do you want to go to your bedroom?" she asked.

I wrapped her blond hair around my cock and jerked off into it. I stood over her. She was on the floor underneath me, wrapping her lips around my balls. I opened my mouth in a silent moan. I pushed her back and put my cock in her mouth. She wasn't experienced and put her hand around it and struggled with the tip. I didn't give a fuck. I watched her struggle to suck me well, loving the sight of her face, her eyes closed, her mouth, and my cock slowly shafting it.

She wrapped her strong, dancer's legs around me. Her cunt was a vacuum, she had incredible muscles. She pulled me into her, hard, and held me there. I looked in her eyes. There was a sort of tentative look in there, a lover trying something they hope will please you, and then down there in the soup of us I felt her cunt contract around me. Pumping me like a fist inside her while she held me still.

"You like that?" she asked.

I kissed her wetly. I started ramming her hard.

"You like that?" I asked.

She shook. We shook.

An hour later our bodies were covered in sweat. Pooling on her back as I fucked her hard from behind.

"Do you know what I'm doing?" I asked.

"What?" she moaned.

"I'm fucking my whore."

She moaned into the pillow.

"Do you know that? Do you know that I'm fucking my whore? Have I shown you how I fuck my whore?"

She moaned again.

"She has such a sweet cunt. Her pussy is so tight. And I'm putting my finger inside her ass right now."

I did.

"Fuck your fucking whore!" she cried and spurted. I reached out with my other hand and grabbed her hair, gently but firmly pulling her head back, forcing her off her elbows and onto her hands, arching her back. The shift in angle and internal pressure made her come, ramming back into me so hard I had to take my finger out of her and put both hands on her cheeks.

I slapped her ass. She was pale and smooth, and I made handprints all over her skin as I watched her body tense and loosen and repeat.

"Nobody's ever fucked me like that before," she said, as I knelt over her chest, stroking my cock hard in front of her face. I bent down and kissed her deeply, then straightened up with my cock in my hand. It was getting close to that time.

"Are you going to give me that cum?"

I closed my eyes and bent nearly backwards as the little deaths came. My cock hurt deliciously from the eruptions, hitting the wall the behind her, then her, and halfway through, her lips engulfed me. I cried out over and over.

She sat on my toilet and peed with the door open as we talked. I turned away and smiled at her unabashedness, then turned back, watched her wipe her cunt and flush, and for a second we felt like long time lovers, not strangers in the afternoon. She changed outfits to go home.

"You look a whole different kind of hot in a sweater and jeans, I want to fuck you again," I said.

She laughed. Pulled her hair back and tried to tie it behind her.

"No. Don't." I took the scrunch out of her hand and slipped it inside her bag. Her hair fell around her face and shoulders.

"That was hot sex," I said.

"Yeah. Very."

I took her home, where she still lived with her mother. She pointed out her community college as we neared and passed it. She had me stop three houses away. We kissed while the engine idled. I tasted her tongue and the afternoon on it. She smelled hot and my cock stirred again. I'm easy, I thought. I'm so easy.

"You wanna have some fun, you call me," she said. She got out. I waited till she was at her front yard, then took off.

I got home and went to the bathroom. The seat on the toilet was down, like she left it. I lifted the seat to piss and when I peeled my cock out of my jeans, her scent filled my nostrils and I liked it. I liked it.

And spent, I collapsed in the destroyed sheets. Pulling a discarded pillow towards me. Finding a stray blond hair. A keepsake.

I slept in the dampness. I liked it, too.