sub_with_character
10-02-2010, 9:44 PM
THE ULTIMATE PIN
by sub_with_character
We met near her East Village apartment and strolled over to
Tompkins Square together. We had come together previously at
a few civic group meetings and walked each other back to our
neighborhood after two public hearings where we both testified.
I learned that like myself she had studied Tai Ji and Push
Hands and suggested we meet some time and try pushing
together. I also told her I found her attractive, but she
replied she already had a boyfriend, though she would have
no objection to pushing with me. After a few phone calls,
we set a date and were now headed to the square to do just that.
As we walked along, I told her she was likely to be better at
Push Hands than I was. When she looked dubious, I explained
that although at 170 and 5' 10" I had thirty pounds in weight
and four inches in height on her, I had frequently seen girls
and men of her build push me around rather easily. This was
because she had a more compact build than mine.
Also, she was better "centered" (the sacred word in Chinese
gymnastics) than myself. Possibly because she was fairly
single-minded in her work as an artist, while I with my taller,
gawkier body was a writer and a so-called intellectual, which
often made it hard, despite years of hard work, to be sure
where my center really was. And since Push Hand forms
can vary slightly from school to school, I offered her one
further advantage. I promised to follow her form rather
than impose mine on her.
Let me call her Ilana, because her family comes from Mittel-
Europa, Hungary to be exact. While no ravishing beauty, she
has a pleasant face and a delightful smile. She was a dirty
blonde, almost verging on a redhead. And as I mentioned
before, she has a neat, tight body with breasts that most
men would notice. Her legs, while smaller than mine, were
strong and shapely. She was also a girl of 40. All things
are relative, and since I'm 70, for me being 40 is a girl.
When we got to the Square, we headed straight for the "people
run," as I call it, because it's just across from the doggie
run. It's a large grassy area where people congregate. This
afternoon there were only three musicians playing softly on
acoustic instruments, two families with kids, and two couples
gently caressing each other. We found a level space some
thirty feet away from everyone else and began to push
together.
As it turned out, our forms weren't that different at all,
and we soon found our way into the fun and conflict of it
all. Let me say as a further form of self-exoneration that
I hadn't practiced the form for a good dozen years and was
otherwise out of shape as well. For her part, she was
still occasionally going to classes.
All of which means that what I told her while walking over
turned out to be a real understatement. She was soon
pushing me almost any and every way, and while I got in a
push of my own a few times, there was nothing I could
really do to defend myself. She soon developed something
like a cute little Push Hands uppercut, a short upward
push from her toes that often uprooted me and a couple
of times even shot me up into the air. And also a kind
of left sweep--as soon as I was sure she had no
energy on her left side I tried to move in on her, only
to find that all her energy had suddenly re-appeared on
her left and was forcing me to lunge awkwardly to her
right.
I tried to laugh as she kept bouncing me upwards and sweeping
me aside. It was about the only option open to me. Her
breasts, which I had admired until now, seemed like two
further sharp-edged opponents aimed directly at me
underneath her tight T-shirt. We both kept at it gamely
for about twenty minutes, myself as I became aware I was
hopelessly outclassed, Ilana as she grew a bit bored with
me as an opponent, though she seemed to take delight in
how easily she could push me around. Our meeting could
easily have become a disappointment. Except that I had
another plan.
Finally I conceded that we weren't doing too well together
and asked her if she would like a Japanese backstretch. She
hadn't taken Aikido or done any other wrestling or mat work
and didn't know what I meant but immediately asked me to
show her just to help me find a way out of the Push Hands.
I explained to her that we both had to relax perfectly or
else she could fall and take a tumble. Then I had her raise
her arms and grab my wrists as we both turned our backs on
each other. I eased my butt decisively under hers and told
her this was the time she really needed to relax and hold on
to my wrists, as I was going to raise her up on my back. I
did so and told her to relax again and not wriggle, which she
was just beginning to do but immediately became fairly still
as she realized she was really and truly aloft on my back.
I gave her some time to get used to the position and then I
started to introduce some rippling motion into my back, which
went directly through to her own. "Oh, that's wonderful,"
she exclaimed, and our relations were suddenly back on track
again.
I kept her up there for a good minute, rippling and wriggling
beneath her amid her oohs and ahs. It was delightful for both
of us. Finally I asked her if she wanted to come down--she
said yes, and I lowered her gently. I then told her that if
she wanted, she could do the same for me, that the difference
in our weights wouldn't hurt her in the slightest, since my
greater bulk would be evenly distributed all along her back. She
readily agreed, and before I knew it I was also aloft and
making my own agreeable noises. I think Ilana was even
happier this time around, since once again she was the one
in control.
As she let me down, I pointed out that it was the world's
least efficient position for making love, and when she
giggled, I knew I at least still had some hope left.
I then told her there was a kind of kneeling Japanese
equivalent of Push Hands and asked her if she wanted to
try it. Once again she immediately agreed, so we knelt
--and/or sat seiza--facing each other and took turns
grasping each others wrists, as we each tried to unbalance
the other. Here too, despite the fact that I had
practiced this exercise for five years and she was
only beginning, she quickly proved that she could
unbalance me almost at will. As she discovered her
powers, she grew even more delighted, even somewhat
proud that she could bounce me around so easily. I
suppose I could blame it all on the torn meniscus
in my left knee, but even with a perfectly sound
knee I'm pretty sure she would have still
outclassed me.
Just to prove I bore her no hard feelings, I told
her she could probably defeat me at wrestling or even
boxing as well--all she would have to do was keep away
from my Aikido wrist and arm holds in wrestling and
tie me up in almost any body hold down on the ground.
Or simply duck or deflect my blows in boxing. If she
could do that for just about two minutes, since I was a
lot older and relatively out of shape, she would have
me pretty exhausted and out of breath by that time in
either wrestling or boxing, and she could then exploit
her greater youth and breath to do just about anything
with me she wanted. I told her I saw myself as a
potential second round knockout at her hands, assuming
I were unwise enough to try.
I don't think Ilana took me too seriously about any of this,
so I simply went on talking in a totally matter of fact
voice and told her something else I thought might interest
her, that even though it was broad daylight and there were
people sitting and walking by all around us, there was
even a way she and I could have sex together then and
there without taking any clothes off. She could even
have an enjoyable orgasm, I claimed, and no one around us
would be remotely aware of what was going on. What's more,
I assured her this could all be accomplished within the
very next five minutes.
This was too much for her. "That's impossible," she said
with finality, though clearly amused by the idea. "No, it
isn't." I replied, "Why don't you see for yourself? All
we have to do is a little bit of wrestling."
The trap had been baited, and she fell in. She was still
quite excited from her earlier victories. She had
trusted me during the Push Hands, the backstretch, and
the kneeling exercise, and she wasn't about to withdraw
her trust.
While we were still kneeling, I told her to raise her
arms and oppose her grip against mine, as though we were
locked in a trial of strength to see who could take
control of the other. I kept her stretched and struggling
against me for about twenty seconds, as I admired how
remarkably strong she felt against me. She was still
skeptical and laughed at first but then began to take
the exercise more seriously. Her breath came a bit faster
as she became aware that here too she might be able to
outdo me. I next told her to push up suddenly from
her knees, throw me onto my back, and jump on top of
me and try to pin me.
She did this almost instantaneously and was
straddling me before I knew it. As she knelt above
me, I asked her to move forward on my body and
stretch out my arms above my head as she did so.
She readily complied, and I told her to move forward
twice more, until there was only an inch separating
her from my chin. I asked her to close that space
as well, and she did so almost automatically as her
mound of venus suddenly came into contact
with my chin bone.
Until then, it had just been another martial arts
exercise for her. But now her behavior changed
quite dramatically. She gave a slight gasp and
almost simultaneously uttered a single syllable:
"Oh."
I sensed that she was tempted but also noted the
slightest beginnings of hesitation. It was time
for some plain words. I was still trying to advise
her & started to tell her that my chin was harder
than what most men ever have between their legs,
that all she had to do was keep moving around on
it until she found just the right angle. But I
didn't get to say the half of that when I realized
she was already doing this, with no need at all
for my instructions.
It was as though she had immediately recognized what
I was suggesting, she just hadn't expected to find it
while we were wrestling. Her hesitation did not last
very long at all--pleasure and prudishness struggled
within her for only an instant before she opted
decisively for pleasure. Her movements started to
become more automatic, and her gaze grew more
distant.
Around my chin I seemed to feel the soft,
insistent outreach of an engulfing entity on several
sides. I believe that for her I had suddenly
become every sex toy she had ever played with, every
horse or bicycle she had ever mounted, every banister
or fence top she had ever slid down or sat nursing
between her legs.
In short, I had become a true sex object for her, which
filled me with total joy, since this was precisely what I
had been hoping all along would happen. At first she
seemed to have trouble settling on precisely the right
angle, but she soon found it. Her breathing grew
belabored, and I could sense a tightening in her muscles.
It took her not much longer than a minute before I felt
her thighs begin to buck around me and her upper body
start to writhe and wriggle in a sweet and inevitable
rhythm, as I heard her soft, sweet cries of "ooh ooh
ooh" amid deeper droning sighs from her diagphragm. I
knew precisely what was happening, and I compensated
for her motion with my own writhing and wriggling, as
though I were trying to escape from her pin, just
in case anyone might be looking on.
But no one was watching. As I predicted, no one knew
nor cared. Except for Ilana and myself, and we cared
mightily indeed. "I think you're beautiful," I said
softly , "I think you're magnificent." She murmured
slightly, as though part of her heard me.
Her legs were actually trembling beside my face, and every
part of her upper body was also quivering. From this
angle her breasts truly jutted out, and I couldn't
help thinking how pleasant it would be if I could
somehow smother my face between them. She continued
to sigh and sob softly as the various tensions and
relaxations of her passion echoed within her.
And amid all her sounds and thrashings, as her back
seemed to arch in several directions at once, some
demonic onlooker within me, perhaps my so-called
intellectual side, could not help reflecting, not
for the first time, that at least on some occasions
the main goal of sexual sport was to induce a kind
of total physical and emotional seizure in one's
partner, something almost like a total system
breakdown.
Though she still sat squarely astride me
as my seeming conqueror, by all reasonable
standards she was the one who was now truly down
and out. Had I wished, at that point I could
have easily toppled her, reversed the pin, and
totally defeated her, causing her great pain in
a variety of ways. Though of course I had not
the slightest intention of doing so.
The power she held over me during those
moments was something more than merely
physical--it was as though she were permitting
me a glimpse into the source of vast
unfathomable energies.
Although her absolute peak had passed, she was now
lunging if anything even more ferociously against
my naked chin, with so much force that I could
not help noticing one thing with exceptional
clarity--she was wearing faded denim cutoff
shorts, their ragged, hanging threads lashing out
towards my mouth and nose.
Her passion had still not fully run its course, but
slowly her senses began to return. She opened her eyes
and looked around. "Wow!" she said, "I guess you were
right."
Then she turned her head downwards and looked directly
at me.
"Thank you," she said, still a bit breathless.
She closed her eyes again and sighed as a series of
secondary compressions swept over her. These went on
for a while, and she did not move to relax her hold on
me for yet another minute. Her body and spirit still
dwelt at least partially in another realm. As even the
remarkably close spelling of the two words suggests,
only the flimsiest of borders separates the _martial_
from the _marital_ arts, and I had pushed her
decisively across that border.
"Hey, lady, let the guy up already."
An outburst from a male voice, belonging to one of
the nearby couples, the only notice anyone there had
paid to us. All he thought he was watching was a
wrestling match. I don't think Ilana fully heard it,
but for whatever reason she soon began to loosen
her grip.
Once again she looked down at me. Her face was
flushed, and her voice had that deep Hungarian
throb to it. "That was very good," she said
simply. Now at last she tried to move from on
top of me.
We found we each needed to help the other up. We
were still both a bit unsteady, and as we tried
to aid one another, I admired how strong and
well-formed her legs truly were and was amazed
that no more than three minutes earlier I had
actually made them tremble.
Soon we were both standing a bit unsteadily,
holding each other. Ilana looked at me once again.
This time she wrapped her arms around me and
kissed me full on the lips. It was a long and
genuinely passionate kiss that almost sent us
sprawling to the ground again. Then we both
laughed, locked our arms around each other, and
walked towards the edge of the park.
As we came to the street, Ilana turned and kissed
me again. How well it had all gone, I reflected.
Almost every detail of my plan had turned out as
expected. I certainly hadn't anticipated my
calamitous defeat at two forms of Push Hands,
though I was aware that she might beat me and
expected that even this might help me in the long
run. But still everything had worked out perfectly.
I think some ghost of this thought may have flickered
across Ilana's mind as we crossed Avenue A, for she
turned to me and said "You bastard, you seduced me."
But without any sign of rancor at all, almost an
admission of gratitude. In fact she now placed her
hand on my head and held both my right earlobe and
cheek in an affectionate clasp.
I said nothing in reply. She was of course perfectly
correct.
I now placed my arm around her shoulder, and in this
embrace we walked down Ninth Street together. Soon
we crossed First Avenue as well and came to the
building where she lived. She unlocked the front
door, and we entered wordlessly together. We walked
up to the third floor, where she opened another
door with another key. Still without a word.
Once inside all our clothing fell away, and over the
next two hours we leisurely enjoyed most of the major
man-woman diversions along with a few of the minor
ones, effortlessly switching roles from dominant to
submissive and back again whenever it seemed appropriate.
And through it all Ilana proved in every way my
equal, playing along readily and without a trace of
reticence.
Only this time, she made love both to and with me and
not merely on me.
<end>
Copyright (C) 2004, 2010 by sub_with_character
by sub_with_character
We met near her East Village apartment and strolled over to
Tompkins Square together. We had come together previously at
a few civic group meetings and walked each other back to our
neighborhood after two public hearings where we both testified.
I learned that like myself she had studied Tai Ji and Push
Hands and suggested we meet some time and try pushing
together. I also told her I found her attractive, but she
replied she already had a boyfriend, though she would have
no objection to pushing with me. After a few phone calls,
we set a date and were now headed to the square to do just that.
As we walked along, I told her she was likely to be better at
Push Hands than I was. When she looked dubious, I explained
that although at 170 and 5' 10" I had thirty pounds in weight
and four inches in height on her, I had frequently seen girls
and men of her build push me around rather easily. This was
because she had a more compact build than mine.
Also, she was better "centered" (the sacred word in Chinese
gymnastics) than myself. Possibly because she was fairly
single-minded in her work as an artist, while I with my taller,
gawkier body was a writer and a so-called intellectual, which
often made it hard, despite years of hard work, to be sure
where my center really was. And since Push Hand forms
can vary slightly from school to school, I offered her one
further advantage. I promised to follow her form rather
than impose mine on her.
Let me call her Ilana, because her family comes from Mittel-
Europa, Hungary to be exact. While no ravishing beauty, she
has a pleasant face and a delightful smile. She was a dirty
blonde, almost verging on a redhead. And as I mentioned
before, she has a neat, tight body with breasts that most
men would notice. Her legs, while smaller than mine, were
strong and shapely. She was also a girl of 40. All things
are relative, and since I'm 70, for me being 40 is a girl.
When we got to the Square, we headed straight for the "people
run," as I call it, because it's just across from the doggie
run. It's a large grassy area where people congregate. This
afternoon there were only three musicians playing softly on
acoustic instruments, two families with kids, and two couples
gently caressing each other. We found a level space some
thirty feet away from everyone else and began to push
together.
As it turned out, our forms weren't that different at all,
and we soon found our way into the fun and conflict of it
all. Let me say as a further form of self-exoneration that
I hadn't practiced the form for a good dozen years and was
otherwise out of shape as well. For her part, she was
still occasionally going to classes.
All of which means that what I told her while walking over
turned out to be a real understatement. She was soon
pushing me almost any and every way, and while I got in a
push of my own a few times, there was nothing I could
really do to defend myself. She soon developed something
like a cute little Push Hands uppercut, a short upward
push from her toes that often uprooted me and a couple
of times even shot me up into the air. And also a kind
of left sweep--as soon as I was sure she had no
energy on her left side I tried to move in on her, only
to find that all her energy had suddenly re-appeared on
her left and was forcing me to lunge awkwardly to her
right.
I tried to laugh as she kept bouncing me upwards and sweeping
me aside. It was about the only option open to me. Her
breasts, which I had admired until now, seemed like two
further sharp-edged opponents aimed directly at me
underneath her tight T-shirt. We both kept at it gamely
for about twenty minutes, myself as I became aware I was
hopelessly outclassed, Ilana as she grew a bit bored with
me as an opponent, though she seemed to take delight in
how easily she could push me around. Our meeting could
easily have become a disappointment. Except that I had
another plan.
Finally I conceded that we weren't doing too well together
and asked her if she would like a Japanese backstretch. She
hadn't taken Aikido or done any other wrestling or mat work
and didn't know what I meant but immediately asked me to
show her just to help me find a way out of the Push Hands.
I explained to her that we both had to relax perfectly or
else she could fall and take a tumble. Then I had her raise
her arms and grab my wrists as we both turned our backs on
each other. I eased my butt decisively under hers and told
her this was the time she really needed to relax and hold on
to my wrists, as I was going to raise her up on my back. I
did so and told her to relax again and not wriggle, which she
was just beginning to do but immediately became fairly still
as she realized she was really and truly aloft on my back.
I gave her some time to get used to the position and then I
started to introduce some rippling motion into my back, which
went directly through to her own. "Oh, that's wonderful,"
she exclaimed, and our relations were suddenly back on track
again.
I kept her up there for a good minute, rippling and wriggling
beneath her amid her oohs and ahs. It was delightful for both
of us. Finally I asked her if she wanted to come down--she
said yes, and I lowered her gently. I then told her that if
she wanted, she could do the same for me, that the difference
in our weights wouldn't hurt her in the slightest, since my
greater bulk would be evenly distributed all along her back. She
readily agreed, and before I knew it I was also aloft and
making my own agreeable noises. I think Ilana was even
happier this time around, since once again she was the one
in control.
As she let me down, I pointed out that it was the world's
least efficient position for making love, and when she
giggled, I knew I at least still had some hope left.
I then told her there was a kind of kneeling Japanese
equivalent of Push Hands and asked her if she wanted to
try it. Once again she immediately agreed, so we knelt
--and/or sat seiza--facing each other and took turns
grasping each others wrists, as we each tried to unbalance
the other. Here too, despite the fact that I had
practiced this exercise for five years and she was
only beginning, she quickly proved that she could
unbalance me almost at will. As she discovered her
powers, she grew even more delighted, even somewhat
proud that she could bounce me around so easily. I
suppose I could blame it all on the torn meniscus
in my left knee, but even with a perfectly sound
knee I'm pretty sure she would have still
outclassed me.
Just to prove I bore her no hard feelings, I told
her she could probably defeat me at wrestling or even
boxing as well--all she would have to do was keep away
from my Aikido wrist and arm holds in wrestling and
tie me up in almost any body hold down on the ground.
Or simply duck or deflect my blows in boxing. If she
could do that for just about two minutes, since I was a
lot older and relatively out of shape, she would have
me pretty exhausted and out of breath by that time in
either wrestling or boxing, and she could then exploit
her greater youth and breath to do just about anything
with me she wanted. I told her I saw myself as a
potential second round knockout at her hands, assuming
I were unwise enough to try.
I don't think Ilana took me too seriously about any of this,
so I simply went on talking in a totally matter of fact
voice and told her something else I thought might interest
her, that even though it was broad daylight and there were
people sitting and walking by all around us, there was
even a way she and I could have sex together then and
there without taking any clothes off. She could even
have an enjoyable orgasm, I claimed, and no one around us
would be remotely aware of what was going on. What's more,
I assured her this could all be accomplished within the
very next five minutes.
This was too much for her. "That's impossible," she said
with finality, though clearly amused by the idea. "No, it
isn't." I replied, "Why don't you see for yourself? All
we have to do is a little bit of wrestling."
The trap had been baited, and she fell in. She was still
quite excited from her earlier victories. She had
trusted me during the Push Hands, the backstretch, and
the kneeling exercise, and she wasn't about to withdraw
her trust.
While we were still kneeling, I told her to raise her
arms and oppose her grip against mine, as though we were
locked in a trial of strength to see who could take
control of the other. I kept her stretched and struggling
against me for about twenty seconds, as I admired how
remarkably strong she felt against me. She was still
skeptical and laughed at first but then began to take
the exercise more seriously. Her breath came a bit faster
as she became aware that here too she might be able to
outdo me. I next told her to push up suddenly from
her knees, throw me onto my back, and jump on top of
me and try to pin me.
She did this almost instantaneously and was
straddling me before I knew it. As she knelt above
me, I asked her to move forward on my body and
stretch out my arms above my head as she did so.
She readily complied, and I told her to move forward
twice more, until there was only an inch separating
her from my chin. I asked her to close that space
as well, and she did so almost automatically as her
mound of venus suddenly came into contact
with my chin bone.
Until then, it had just been another martial arts
exercise for her. But now her behavior changed
quite dramatically. She gave a slight gasp and
almost simultaneously uttered a single syllable:
"Oh."
I sensed that she was tempted but also noted the
slightest beginnings of hesitation. It was time
for some plain words. I was still trying to advise
her & started to tell her that my chin was harder
than what most men ever have between their legs,
that all she had to do was keep moving around on
it until she found just the right angle. But I
didn't get to say the half of that when I realized
she was already doing this, with no need at all
for my instructions.
It was as though she had immediately recognized what
I was suggesting, she just hadn't expected to find it
while we were wrestling. Her hesitation did not last
very long at all--pleasure and prudishness struggled
within her for only an instant before she opted
decisively for pleasure. Her movements started to
become more automatic, and her gaze grew more
distant.
Around my chin I seemed to feel the soft,
insistent outreach of an engulfing entity on several
sides. I believe that for her I had suddenly
become every sex toy she had ever played with, every
horse or bicycle she had ever mounted, every banister
or fence top she had ever slid down or sat nursing
between her legs.
In short, I had become a true sex object for her, which
filled me with total joy, since this was precisely what I
had been hoping all along would happen. At first she
seemed to have trouble settling on precisely the right
angle, but she soon found it. Her breathing grew
belabored, and I could sense a tightening in her muscles.
It took her not much longer than a minute before I felt
her thighs begin to buck around me and her upper body
start to writhe and wriggle in a sweet and inevitable
rhythm, as I heard her soft, sweet cries of "ooh ooh
ooh" amid deeper droning sighs from her diagphragm. I
knew precisely what was happening, and I compensated
for her motion with my own writhing and wriggling, as
though I were trying to escape from her pin, just
in case anyone might be looking on.
But no one was watching. As I predicted, no one knew
nor cared. Except for Ilana and myself, and we cared
mightily indeed. "I think you're beautiful," I said
softly , "I think you're magnificent." She murmured
slightly, as though part of her heard me.
Her legs were actually trembling beside my face, and every
part of her upper body was also quivering. From this
angle her breasts truly jutted out, and I couldn't
help thinking how pleasant it would be if I could
somehow smother my face between them. She continued
to sigh and sob softly as the various tensions and
relaxations of her passion echoed within her.
And amid all her sounds and thrashings, as her back
seemed to arch in several directions at once, some
demonic onlooker within me, perhaps my so-called
intellectual side, could not help reflecting, not
for the first time, that at least on some occasions
the main goal of sexual sport was to induce a kind
of total physical and emotional seizure in one's
partner, something almost like a total system
breakdown.
Though she still sat squarely astride me
as my seeming conqueror, by all reasonable
standards she was the one who was now truly down
and out. Had I wished, at that point I could
have easily toppled her, reversed the pin, and
totally defeated her, causing her great pain in
a variety of ways. Though of course I had not
the slightest intention of doing so.
The power she held over me during those
moments was something more than merely
physical--it was as though she were permitting
me a glimpse into the source of vast
unfathomable energies.
Although her absolute peak had passed, she was now
lunging if anything even more ferociously against
my naked chin, with so much force that I could
not help noticing one thing with exceptional
clarity--she was wearing faded denim cutoff
shorts, their ragged, hanging threads lashing out
towards my mouth and nose.
Her passion had still not fully run its course, but
slowly her senses began to return. She opened her eyes
and looked around. "Wow!" she said, "I guess you were
right."
Then she turned her head downwards and looked directly
at me.
"Thank you," she said, still a bit breathless.
She closed her eyes again and sighed as a series of
secondary compressions swept over her. These went on
for a while, and she did not move to relax her hold on
me for yet another minute. Her body and spirit still
dwelt at least partially in another realm. As even the
remarkably close spelling of the two words suggests,
only the flimsiest of borders separates the _martial_
from the _marital_ arts, and I had pushed her
decisively across that border.
"Hey, lady, let the guy up already."
An outburst from a male voice, belonging to one of
the nearby couples, the only notice anyone there had
paid to us. All he thought he was watching was a
wrestling match. I don't think Ilana fully heard it,
but for whatever reason she soon began to loosen
her grip.
Once again she looked down at me. Her face was
flushed, and her voice had that deep Hungarian
throb to it. "That was very good," she said
simply. Now at last she tried to move from on
top of me.
We found we each needed to help the other up. We
were still both a bit unsteady, and as we tried
to aid one another, I admired how strong and
well-formed her legs truly were and was amazed
that no more than three minutes earlier I had
actually made them tremble.
Soon we were both standing a bit unsteadily,
holding each other. Ilana looked at me once again.
This time she wrapped her arms around me and
kissed me full on the lips. It was a long and
genuinely passionate kiss that almost sent us
sprawling to the ground again. Then we both
laughed, locked our arms around each other, and
walked towards the edge of the park.
As we came to the street, Ilana turned and kissed
me again. How well it had all gone, I reflected.
Almost every detail of my plan had turned out as
expected. I certainly hadn't anticipated my
calamitous defeat at two forms of Push Hands,
though I was aware that she might beat me and
expected that even this might help me in the long
run. But still everything had worked out perfectly.
I think some ghost of this thought may have flickered
across Ilana's mind as we crossed Avenue A, for she
turned to me and said "You bastard, you seduced me."
But without any sign of rancor at all, almost an
admission of gratitude. In fact she now placed her
hand on my head and held both my right earlobe and
cheek in an affectionate clasp.
I said nothing in reply. She was of course perfectly
correct.
I now placed my arm around her shoulder, and in this
embrace we walked down Ninth Street together. Soon
we crossed First Avenue as well and came to the
building where she lived. She unlocked the front
door, and we entered wordlessly together. We walked
up to the third floor, where she opened another
door with another key. Still without a word.
Once inside all our clothing fell away, and over the
next two hours we leisurely enjoyed most of the major
man-woman diversions along with a few of the minor
ones, effortlessly switching roles from dominant to
submissive and back again whenever it seemed appropriate.
And through it all Ilana proved in every way my
equal, playing along readily and without a trace of
reticence.
Only this time, she made love both to and with me and
not merely on me.
<end>
Copyright (C) 2004, 2010 by sub_with_character