Unzipped

Three quickies unrelated except for a line they share by Robert Fripp. Enjoy.

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First Movement: Vivace

She was good.

Whenever I would catch up a bit, she would sprint off. At the top of the hill she veered off the track onto a much narrower run. I followed but it was tough going. I was getting tired and making mistakes. She was lithe and agile as a cat - barely breaking a sweat.

I came to a clearing and she had stopped. Panting heavily, I pulled up bedside her.

She was still breathing hard from the ride. She dropped her bike, removed her helmet and wiped the line of sweat that had formed across her forehead. Then without a word she stepped into my space, smiled fetchingly and rolled her shoulders.

I smiled and just unzipped her.

The bicycle shirt opened up revealing a powder blue sports bra and a tight lithe body.

"The bra matches your eyes." She smiled and lifted the bottom hem to reveal two tiny breasts. I bend over and kissed one nipple and then the other. She flexed her shoulders and let the shirt fall to her wrists and then to the ground. I pulled the bra over her head.

She smelled of sweat and shampoo.

I got off my bike and she dropped to her knees in front of me and pulled down my spandex bike shorts.

Those of you who know anything about mountain bike racing will know that going up the mountain is hard work and most of your blood is busy trying to bring oxygen to your leg muscles. As well, in rough terrain, the saddle is hard and unforgiving to the rather tender flesh it "supports"- a serious design failure in my opinion. The end result is that if someone claims that he can pop free of the shorts fully or even partially erect, you know the is lying. As well, tucked into the crotch of the shorts is a padding device known as a "chamois" invented in the Victorian era when bikes had no suspension and saddles were rigid. On a long ride the chamois is greased with a material called chamois butter, which prevents chafing (and ultimately blisters) on those most-tender bits of one's anatomy. Underwear defeats the purpose of both the chamois and the "butter".

What popped out when my shorts dropped around my ankles was a soggy, greasy and sadly shriveled example of athletic manhood.

She laughed.

Then she touched it gingerly and gave it a tentative lick.

"I can't say I'm a fan of the taste..." but then popped most of the thing into her mouth. My brain finally made the connection and adjusted my internal plumbing. I began to swell under her ministrations.

"That's a bit better", she muttered after a moment.

Looking up at me, she gave my testicles a light squeeze, then stood and gave me a nice sloppy kiss.

I had another go at her breasts with my tongue and she moaned. They were not much more than dark hardened nipples and a thin bit of fatty tissue perched on a very lithe and toned torso. They were hard wired though - she let out a moan and then started to wriggle out of her shorts. For the most part, women are less than enthusiastic about buttering their genitalia and put up with the discomfort of an underwear layer between their privates and the chamois. She was the exception and was naked in a trice as the shorts slid down her legs tied themselves around her ankles.

She pushed my shoulders down and I dropped to my knees. She grabbed my hair pulled my face into her crotch. I took the hint and started to massage her slit with my tongue. Her clitoris emerged in blushing pink from its sheath and I squeezed it carefully between my lips and sucked. She gasped and her knees bent. I was taking most of her weight on my upturned face and my neck was complaining. I reached up behind her and flipped her (rather gracefully I thought) onto her back in the grass without letting go of her pussy with my mouth.

Again she yanked on my hair. "Fuck me now", she hissed as I came up for air. She spread her legs and grabbed my dick as it came within reach, guiding it into her hole. I obliged by thrusting hard as soon as the tip felt the slickness of her folds. She was tight but she was so wet there was no resistance. I pulled out half way and then pounded in again. She grabbed my butt and hissed "Yesss" in my ear. I took that to mean; no need for slow and gentle warm up strokes.

I started pounding. We would crash pelvic bone to pelvic bone two times to the second like some crazy march to the summit. Then she lost the beat entirely and spasmed around my cock. I kept the beat like some mad drummer and she squealed, arched her back and went rigid. I took that as my cue to start pumping. She squeezed, I gushed and the beat was lost.

A time passed and I was no doubt crushing her so she rolled me off. I fell out with a flaccid slurp and lay exhausted on the grass. She squatted for a few minutes and let my cum drain onto the grass. Then she picked up her shorts and pulled them on. Bra and shirt next and she was dressed - a bit disheveled perhaps with her cheeks still flushed but presentable.

She smiled, blew me a kiss, picked up her bike and was gone.

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Second Movement: Presto

"I must thank you all, each and every one of you, personally for a very successful week. All of your hard work has paid off. Have a good weekend and see you all again Monday."

I don't know if this is a universal human response, but success arouses me sexually and the successes of the last two days had made me achingly horny.

"Miss Jenkins, would you be so kind as to remain a few minutes."

She waited as the rest of our small staff filed out of my office.

"I can't stay. My husband is already waiting for me downstairs."

I smiled and just unzipped her.

"Sorry, but my need is greater than his right now."

Her black pencil skirt slipped over her hips and slid with a rustle to the floor. A sensible white cotton thong was revealed (if one can describe a thong as sensible). I slid it over her buttocks and it joined the skirt on the floor. I stood behind her and ran a finger along her slit. It was pretty dry so I took the time to gently pry apart her lips. She moved her feet apart to give me better access and sighed with a mixture of resignation and perhaps anticipation. Her back arched ever so slightly as she bent over the desk.

I used my free hand to unzip my fly and extract my now engorged cock from its confines.

I continued to quietly stroke her labia and gently massaged her butt until she started to moisten. I took my dick and ran the head up and down between the lips until the head was well coated in her juices then slowly pushed into her flesh. She inhaled as I advanced. I waited a moment and withdrew. A quiet groan escaped her lips. I stopped with just the head sheathed in her folds.

She held her breath.

Then, remembering she was in a hurry, I started pumping in and out with more enthusiasm. She rolled her pelvis to find a happy angle and then just waited for the inevitable. She didn't wait long.

Sensing my impending orgasm, she tightened the muscles along her sheath and braced against the desk. I had grabbed her hips and pulled her into my crotch with a final thrust and held her tightly as I pulsed a half dozen times into her guts.

She waited a few moments and then pulled away. She crouched in front of me and quickly licked me clean before slipping my softening erection back into my trousers. She pulled up her thong and then the skirt and zipped it tight.

"Have a good weekend, sir. See you on Monday," she said, then the door clicked shut behind her.

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Third Movement: Sostenuto

She stood facing the mirror and I moved behind her. You may have noticed that the zipper on low rise Levis isn't very long. Hardly worth thinking about but it's a metaphor for the invisible line separating friends from lovers.

I smiled and just unzipped her.

I hooked my thumbs into the waistband of her jeans and slipped them over her hips and pushed them down to mid thigh. The jeans had rolled the elastic waist of a pair of white cotton panties. Reflexively she straightened them. I could see her damp arousal at the crotch. I slid my hand under the elastic, down over her mound and into the gap between her thighs. She closed her eyes and spread her legs a few inches. That was all the jeans would allow but it gave me room to run a finger along her sex.

She had Asian pubic hair - fine and straight - that was matted along the seam so I wiggled my finger the length of her slot, spreading the lips and releasing a small gush of lubricant. I stuck my finger in and she groaned. She pushed her butt back against my thighs and bent forward.

I removed my finger and then took my hand from her panties and brought my fingers to her lips. She licked them tentatively and then with more enthusiasm. I smiled then pushed the panties down to join the jeans. She reached behind and fumbled with my zipper. She got it down and reached in with one hand for my cock. It was hard and playing hard to get. She yanked and it sprang free. She bent at the waist and used her free hand to keep from pitching forward by bracing against the dresser underneath the mirror. I took my meat from her hand and run the head up and down her slit. Another groan and then I drove into her.

She was sopping and I slid effortlessly until I my pubic bone pushed into her butt. She braced herself with both hands and I started to pound her from behind; slowly at first, as she adjusted to the intrusion, but then gradually harder and faster.

We were a well-oiled machine - tireless and relentless.

A thin sheen of perspiration formed along her back. A line of her juices ran down her inner thigh. Reaching forward, I ran my fingers over her nipples. They were covered in sweat as well. As I slid in she would rise an inch or two on her toes to change the angle of attack then drop again as I withdrew.

Then I picked up the pace. I straightened up a bit so that the head of my dick forced itself against her g-spot with each thrust. She panted and squealed, then arched her back and started to shake. I held her by her hips and felt her sheath start to spasm around my cock.

That was it. I impaled her one last time and started to cum.

She was limp when I slid out with a slurp. Had I let go of her hips she would have collapsed onto the rug in a heap, but I lifted her onto the bed where she curled into a sweaty ball, her legs still tangled in her jeans.

I got a drink from the bar fridge and then sat and watched her. A bead of cum slowly drained from her loins, along that seam where her thigh meets her butt and onto the bed.

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