Susan
Story
Susan had said
she'd be over at six AM, and I was up and waiting.
I'd met her
on a Sunday ski trip, one of those chance meetings in a lift
line.
It was one of those days when only serious skiiers were on the
slopes, and
with her ski mask, parka and goggles, I really didn't find
out what she
looked like. We'd chatted as we rode the chairlift up the
mountain, and
we'd run into each other again after lunch and skied
together for
an hour or so.
By the
time I gotten to my car for the drive back down I-70 toward
Golden, I'd
learned her first name and the fact that she was a Denverite.
I also knew
that she was single and available, and I guess she knew the
same about me.
Without her last name, though, I hadn't imagined I'd see
her again until
her call yesterday when she invited me on a ski trip.
A car
pulled into my building's lot. I couldn't make out the
driver, but
there were a pair of skis strapped to the back so I guessed
it was Susan
and stepped out the door carrying my skis and boots.
"Bob?"
she asked, opening the car door. It was Susan. "Give me
the skis, I'll
strap them on while you dump your boots in the back seat."
A minute
or so later, we were on our way.
"Breakfast
in Idaho Springs?" she asked as she pulled onto US 6.
"OK,"
I said, trying to make out what she looked like by the light
of passing streetlights.
"Are you sure you want to take the Clear Creek
Canyon road
and not Interstate 70?"
US 6 up
Cleer Creek Canyon is one of the most threatening drives
I've ever taken,
a winding upgrade with a cliff on one side, the creek on
the other, and
no good places to pull out and pass for almost 50 miles.
As she drove
on, I slowly gained confidence. She did seem to know the
road, and it
was early enough in the morning that there wasn't enough
traffic to make
problems for us.
"I've
always loved that road," she said, and I saw her face
clearly in the
light of a passing car as she grinned. It was a pretty
face, but I
was startled by the glint of jewelry on the side of her nose.
I was
curious about her nose jewelry, but I didn't want to offend
her so I said
nothing and tried not to stare. Her nose jewelry sparkled
oddly in the
lights of the dashboard, and I wondered what it would look
like in the
full light of day.
It was
too early in the morning for me to make much in the way of
smalltalk, and
on a different road with a different driver, I'd have
relaxed and
tried to doze off. As it was, I was tense. The road twisted
and turned as
it followed the canyon, and in the dark, even with the
headlights,
it was unnerving.
"Hungry?"
Susan asked, pulling onto the exit ramp. I must have
dozed off, I
don't know how. The clock on the dashboard said that it was
after eight
and we were on I-70 just below Idaho Springs.
"Sure,"
I said. "Got any place in mind?"
She didn't
answer, but five minutes later, we were sitting
opposite each
other in a booth at a small cafe looking at our menus.
When I looked
at her, I had a hard time keeping my eyes off her nose
jewelry.
I'd seen people wear rings in their noses before, but this
wasn't just
a ring or a stud in the side of a nostril, it was two large
diamond studs,
both on the side of her right nostril.
"Like
my noserings?" she asked after we'd ordered.
I felt
a bit embarrassed as I stammered my reply, but she seemed
to take my reaction
in stride. While we ate, we talked about the day to
come, and after
we paid our bills, we talked about the old mining
district along
I-70 between Idaho Springs and Silver Plume. She was
upset by the
environmental damage caused by the reopening of some of the
old gold mines,
but I thought they were unlikely to damage anything that
hadn't already
seen worse in the 19th century. That discussion got us
all the way
to the ski area and through the line at the ticket office,
and then we
separated. Susan and I had different ideas about how to
start a day
of skiing.
It was
a great day for skiing, sunny and warm enough that few
people wore
hats. I usually begin a skiing outing with a warmup run or
two on the intermediate
slopes, and it was great fun breezing down the
mountain, feeling
the wind in my face and the snow under my feet.
I ran
into Susan in the lift line after I'd taken a few runs down
the mountain.
Her nose jewelry glinted in the sun and made her stand out
from the crowd.
"Hi Susan!"
I said, skiing up to her. "Want to ride up together?"
"Sure,"
She said, smiling. "Good skiing?"
We chatted
about the usual skiing concerns as we waited in the
lift line, but
when we were on the lift, she paused to put sunscreen on
her face.
I couldn't help watching as she worked it in around her nose
jewelry.
She grinned
at me as she put the lid back on her tube of
sunscreen.
"If you keep watching my nose, you'll miss the top of the
lift.
Need any sunscreen?" She held out the tube to me.
"Nope,"
I said. "Those things really go through your nostril?"
"Yup,"
she said.
"Didn't
it hurt?" I asked.
"Sure,
but would you have asked the same question about my pierced
ears?
There's not really much of a difference between the two, other
than where they
are on my face."
"I'm sorry,"
I said, feeling foolish. Her hair was short enough
to clearly reveal
the pair of diamonds in each ear, but I'd been so
focused on her
nose jewelry that I'd hardly noticed the earrings.
"Don't
take it out on yourself," she said, still smiling. "Most
people react
the way you did, and I guess half the reason I did it was
because I like
watching people react."
"What's
the other half?"
"I think
noserings are pretty. Do you?"
I hesitated
for a moment before I answered. "They're fascinating
and disturbing,
I'll say that. I can't say if they're pretty or not, at
least not yet."
"Thanks
for an honest answer," she said, smiling. "Ski down with
me?"
I did,
and it was fun. Susan is a good recreational skiier,
competent enough
to handle just about any slope, but not a racer. She
didn't mind
my pausing to enjoy the scenery and catch my breath once in a
while, and we
ended up staying together through lunch and all afternoon.
I have to say,
I enjoyed it despite the difficulty I had dealing with the
strange jewelry
she wore on her face.
"That
was a good day of skiing," I said, helping her load our skis
on the car that
evening.
"Yup,"
she said. She didn't say more, and I was too tired to try
to make my own
smalltalk as we started the long drive down I-70 out of
the mountains.
The sun was behind the high mountains to the west, and I
guessed it would
be dark but still early evening by the time we got back
to town.
My mind
was blank as we drove down the deep valley towards the old
mining towns
of Silver Plume and Georgetown. My eyes were on the tail
lights of the
cars ahead, with an occasional glance at the dark pine-
covered slopes
we passed. I was hungry, though, and the thought of
waiting another
hour for dinner roused me as we drove down the steep
grade past Georgetown.
"Dinner?"
I asked.
"In Idaho
Springs?"
"Sure."
"OK,"
she said, and then hesitated. "Want a romantic apres-ski
date or just
food?"
"Just
food was all I had in mind," I said, and then chuckled, "I'm
open to more,
though. Got any place in mind?"
"How about
something Chinese?"
"Sounds
good."
She reached
over and briefly rested her hand on my knee, and a few
minutes later,
we drove off the interstate and pulled up outside a
Chinese restaurant
that looked like it had been built in a fairly modern
bank building,
complete with drive-up teller's window.
I went
in feeling mellow after a long day on the slopes. Either
the food was
good or I was too hungry to be very critical. I wasn't
feeling very
talkative, and that seemed to satisfy Susan, but as she ate,
she looked at
me with an interesting look on her face, and she didn't
seem to mind
my looking at her.
I was
relaxed enough to look at Susan as a whole person. Perhaps
a day of skiing
with her helped, or perhaps I was just getting used to
seeing her strange
nose jewelry. She was pretty, short brown hair, round
face and pale
skin. Her heavy ski sweater hid her figure, but halfway
through the
meal, she said she was hot and took it off, revealing a slim
figure under
a snug red turtleneck. Judging by the way the turtleneck
clung to her
small breasts and exposed the shape of her large nipples,
she couldn't
have been wearing much of anything under it.
"That
was good," I said as I finished the last of my gravy soaked
rice and sat
back.
"You certainly
ate enough," she said, grinning. "Want dessert?"
"No, I'm
full," I said, and then noticed something strange in her
mouth as she
licked a crumb off her lip.
She must
have seen the puzzled look on my face. She leaned back
and deliberately
licked her lips, slowly running her tongue over them,
pointedly giving
me a good look. There was a gold bead on top of her
tongue, and
another below, and as she licked, it was obvious that they
were connected
right through the center of her tongue.
I was
speechless. I didn't know what to say, and she just grinned
at me and changed
the subject. "Come on, I'll pay."
I tried
to tell her that I should pay for my share, but she
insisted, leaving
me feeling a bit helpless as I got back into the car.
As I sat in
the car, I stewed in my own thoughts, confused by my reaction
to Susan and
unsure how to deal with her.
"I'm sorry
I put you on the spot back there," she said as we
pulled onto
I-70.
"I don't
know what to say."
"Is it
because you can't think of anything to say, or just that
you don't think
I'd like what you wanted to say. If it's that, out with
it, be honest."
"Oh hell,"
I finally said, quietly. "All right, I guess I'm a bit
grossed out
by that thing you've got through your tongue and the diamonds
in your nose,
but I'm also bothered out by my reaction to them."
"They're
not diamonds, they're cubic zirconia," she said. "But go
on, what's the
problem, what about your reaction bothers you?"
I took
a deep breath. "I don't know. Hell, that's not true.
I'm
fascinated with
what you've done, I guess in a way, you've É this sounds
so corny É
you've awakened a repressed fantasy of mine, and I guess I
have a hard
time accepting that I have that kind of fantasy."
"That
took a bit of courage to say, didn't it," she said, speaking
quietly.
"Aren't
you missing your exit?" I asked as the interstate took a
turn and began
its climb up the south wall of Clear Creek Canyon.
"It doesn't
matter," she said. "What's wrong with that kind of
fantasy?
It's not that uncommon."
"It isn't?"
"It's
common enough that people have written books on the subject,
there are people
who make their living doing piercing for people like me,
and it's hardly
a new thing. People have worn jewelry in their noses in
India and Africa
for millenia, and that's only the start. Look in the
Encyclopedea
Britanica under the subject of body modification, the theme
pervades human
history."
"Oh,"
I said, feeling a bit lame.
Susan
paused as we drove on, and then chuckled. "This fantasy of
yours, it's
really not so awful, is it?"
Was it
so awful? I wasn't sure, but my curiosity gnawed at me as
we drove onward
until I finally had to ask. "Have you got jewelry stuck
through any
other parts of your body?"
"Tits,"
she said.
"What?"
I asked, not ready to believe what she'd said.
"You heard
me, I've got pierced nipples. Is that part of your
repressed fantasy?"
I didn't
say anything for a while. "I don't know," I finally
said, exasperated
with my inability to deal with what was happening.
She reached
over and rested her hand on my knee, saying nothing,
and then gave
me a squeeze. "You make up your mind, OK?"
"Let's
change the subject," I suggested.
The rest
of the drive down towards Denver was uneventful. We
talked about
our jobs. I told Susan about ceramics engineering working
for Coors Porcelain,
the other Coors company in Golden, the one that
nobody seems
to have heard of. Susan told me about her job as a
technical writer.
"My place
or yours?" she asked, catching me by surprise as we
approached the
Colfax Avenue exit.
"What?"
"I'm inviting
you to visit my apartment, and I'm giving you the
alternative
of having me up to your place if you'd prefer. From here,
they're about
the same distance. OK?"
"Take
me home," I said. "That way, you won't have to drive back
and forth as
much."
I'd intended
to say goodbye to her in the parking lot, but somehow
we ended up
in my apartment. Susan asked to use my bathroom, and then I
offered to start
coffee while she did. I zapped the water in my
microwave and
managed to get the coffee ready at about the same time she
came out of
the bathroom.
"You've
done a decent job with the apartment," she said as I
carried two
coffee mugs into the living room.
"It's
all cheap," I said, and then paused as I got a good look at
her.
She grinned
and gestured at her legs. "Like 'em? They're warm
under ski pants,
and they look pretty good without."
"They
look nice," I said. She was wearing red thermal tights that
matched her
red turtleneck sweater. Like the sweater, they covered her
body without
hiding much of anything, which is to say, they made her look
very sexy.
"Thanks,"
she said, accepting a mug of coffee. "Ah, just the
smell hits the
spot."
She sipped
her coffee, and I sat down to sip mine, sitting far
enough from
her on the couch that I could look at her. Her nose jewelry
still fascinated
me, but so did the shapes of her thinly clad legs and
the nipples
that protruded so visibly under her thin sweater.
She looked
frankly at me over her coffee mug and then grinned and
put it down.
"Want a kiss?"
"OK,"
I said, and she shifted over to sit next to me, kissing me
gently on the
lips.
We sat
side-by side, sipping our coffee and talking quietly, and I
slowly relaxed.
We kissed again, sipped some more coffee, talked some
more, and then
kissed again. I enjoyed her kisses, but I didn't push.
Chaste kisses
were enough.
We finished
our coffee, set down our mugs, and kissed again, and
suddenly, our
kissing was very unchaste. My tongue parted her lips, or
did she part
her lips and invite my tongue in. Her tongue met mine, and
then surged
into my mouth. I could feel the hard nubs of the jewelry she
wore through
her tongue, but they turned out to be nice, something to
feel and play
with while we kissed.
She squirmed
into my lap as we kissed, and then I fell back,
letting her
press herself against me as she lay on top of me on the
couch.
I was getting excited, and her sweater was soft and invited
touching.
As I ran my hands over Susan's back, it was very obvious that
the sweater
and tights were all she was wearing. Her fanny was soft and
round under
my touch, her back seemed long, and the sides of her breasts
were soft and
warm.
As my
hands found the sides of her breasts, she lifted herself,
inviting me
to touch her breasts, and I enjoyed the sensation of rubbing
the hard round
knobs of her nipples through her sweater. I remembered
that she'd said
that they were pierced, but other than their size, I
couldn't feel
anything unusual about them.
"I'm hot,"
I said.
Susan
broke the kiss and pulled back to smile down at me as I
touched her
nipples. "You're still dressed for the slopes. Let me help
you off with
that sweater."
As I sat
up, she pulled my ski sweater off over my head, and then
chuckled.
"Want to see my titrings?"
"OK,"
I said, as she reached for the fanny pack she'd left beside
the couch.
"I usually
wear little titrings, but they don't look good under
tight sweaters
like this," she said, rummaging through her fanny pack.
"In the right
company," she went on, pulling something out of her pack,
"this is a fun
way to wear them."
She held
up a pair of largish rings, something like large hoop
earrings.
While I watched, she slid a ring into its place, right through
the knit material
of her sweater and obviously through the flesh of her
nipple, in one
side and out the other, and then she did the same on the
other side.
Half of me wanted to feel grossed out as I watched, but I
was also fascinated
and even excited by what I saw.
"Like
the look?" she asked, throwing back her shoulders as she
posed for me.
The rings dangled in front of her chest, holding my
attention on
the her breasts and amplifying her smallest motion with
their swinging
and sparkling.
"Wow,"
was all I could say.
She sat
next to me again, kissed me, and then spoke quietly. "You
can touch them
if you want. Half the fun of titrings is the stimulation.
You don't have
to worry about hurting me, even if you do this." She
demonstrated
with a tug and twist that looked horrible, yet she grinned
all the while.
I must
have looked shocked. "I've got an office mate who
breastfed her
kids," Susan said, putting her arm around my shoulder.
"She said that
babies suck and bite awfully hard, yet it usually just
felt good until
the kids got teeth. Nipples really are made to take it,
so you don't
have to worry. Come on, touch them."
I did,
feeling the cool metal of the rings, and then gingerly
following the
ring to where it entered her nipple through the knit fabric
of her sweater.
My fascination quickly got the better of me as I gently
traced the curve
of her nipple, then tentatively took the ring in my
finger and lifted
it.
"That
feels nice," she said, squeezing me and resting her cheek on
my shoulder
as I tentatively pulled at a ring.
Soon,
I was lost in an erotic reverie as I explored the soft
shapes of her
breasts, the hard lumps of her nipples, the soft texture of
her sweater,
and her rings. Her hands were on me, sliding over my chest
and running
down my hips as we kissed, and then her hand was on my penis.
"Want
to make love?" she asked, sliding her fingers over the bulge
in my pants.
I couldn't
say no as she pulled away from me and slid out of her
tights.
Her legs were beautiful, but she quickly dropped out of sight as
she squatted
in front of me to work at my pants. I was wearing jeans
over long-johns,
sensible low-budget ski-wear, but hardly romantic to get
out of.
"How do
you want to do it?" she asked, smiling at my penis as I
pulled off my
pants.
"I don't
know," I said. "In bed?"
"OK,"
she said, as I got up to lead her to the bedroom. "Do you
like 69?"
"It's
not what I had in mind," I said, puzzled enough that I could
feel my erection
falling. I'd eaten girls before, but never had much
success making
it mutually rewarding.
"Want
to try?" she asked. "I like it alot, it's not as safe as
'just say no,'
but it's pretty safe and it saves the hassle of condoms.
You are safe,
aren't you? I mean, as far as you know, you don't have
herpes or AIDS
or something?"
"I think
I'm safe," I said, losing enthusiasm as I took off my
shirt.
"Are you?"
"Yup,"
she said, giving me a hug and then kneeling to look at me.
"Aren't
you going to take off your sweater?" I asked.
"OK,"
she said, and then, as I watched, she carefully unlatched
the rings in
her nipples. They didn't work like earrings, they were
thicker and
when she took off her sweater, I could see that the holes in
her nipples
were pretty large. The erection I'd lost came back as I
watched her
slide the gold rings back through the flesh of her nipples,
and then she
smiled at me and told me to lie down.
Susan
knelt on the bed beside me and ran her fingers over my
chest, then
bent down to kiss me. I could feel the nub of gold on her
tongue as we
kissed, and then she kissed my neck, gently working her way
down over my
shoulderblade to my chest as she crawled over me.
She angled
her body so one breast was over my mouth, just out of
reach, with
the ring hanging over me, and then she began gently dragging
the smooth gold
ring over my lips. I hesitated, but her game was
obvious, and
soon, I was playing along, grabbing at the ring with my lips
as she kissed
my nipples.
I eventually
had the ring all the way in my mouth as I sucked on
her nipple and
played with her other breast with a free hand. I think I
could have been
content that way for a while, but Susan began to kiss her
way down my
stomach, pulling her breast free of my mouth as she went.
I half
expected her to sit on my face as her lips reached my
groin; I'd had
another girl do it with me that way, but Susan had other
ideas.
She lay down beside me, cradling her cheek on my thigh as she
pulled me towards
her, letting me rest my cheek on her thigh as I
explored her.
She wasn't
clean-shaven, but she was well trimmed, and as she
kissed the inside
of my thigh, I smelled her feminine musk and kissed
her. I
pressed my lips to hers, tasting the salty-sweetness of her, and
then she took
the swolen head of my penis into her mouth.
The sensation
of her lips wrapped around me was wonderful, but my
attention was
between her legs as I parted her lips and explored her with
my tongue, probing,
licking and sucking. I was hugging her hips with my
arms, but one
hand wasn't really needed for that, so I slid it over her
body to her
breast and found the ring through her nipple with my fingers.
Judging
by the way she thrust her hips at my face, she was
excited; I was
too. She took my entire penis in her mouth, or at least,
that's how it
felt, and then let it slide out before licking around the
head.
As she did it, I could feel the hard nubs of the beads on her
tongue, and
then she swallowed my penis again.
I convulsed
as the explosion of an orgasm coursed through my body,
and then she
was thrusting her hips at me as I thrust myself into her,
merging with
her, cooperating, bringing our bodies together in total
ecstacy.
There was no doubt of her orgasm, I could feel it and taste it
as I felt the
shuddering throbbing of my own orgasm.
I don't
know how long we relaxed, lying together mouthing each
other in the
warm afterglow of a satisfying orgasm, but she eventually
pulled free
of my limp penis and spoke. "That was good; you satisfied?"
"Yup,"
I said.
She sat
up, then surprised me by bending down to kiss me. It was
a passionate
kiss too, and I knew she was tasting herself in my mouth and
smelling herself
on my face as I tasted myself in her. I didn't object,
I don't mind
the taste of my own semin, but all the women I'd known
before seemed
to dislike their own taste and smell.
"Well,"
she said, backing away and smiling at me. "Now that
you've gone
all the way with me, what do you think of my jewelry."
"It's
nice," I said, looking from the bright sparks of the stones
on the side
of her nose down to the glittering rings on her breasts and
back again as
I recalled the sensation of making love to her. "That stud
on your tongue
feels interesting, and I like touching the, uh, the rings
in your nipples."
"Call
them titrings," she said, smiling. "Think I should get any
more interesting
jewelry?"
"I don't
know," I said, gently stroking her side. "What else do
you have in
mind."
"Well,
some people get pierced navels," she said, touching herself
as she spoke,
"and I've also thought of pierced labia or even a clit
ring.
That's supposed to feel really sexy."
"It's
your body," I said.
"I should
probably get going," she said, glancing at my bedroom
clock.
"I've got to get up early for work tomorrow." She gave me a
gentle kiss.
"If I had some work clothes here, I'd offer to spend the
night, but É"
I followed
her out into the living room and watched her pull on
her red tights.
That was all she put on, other than her parka. Her
sweater and
ski pants went into a plastic shopping bag she took out of
her fanny pack,
and then she kissed me again, suggested we get together
at her place
next Friday evening, and left.
I fell
asleep quickly that night, although in retrospect, that was
a bit of a surprise.
Perhaps it was the long day of skiing finally
catching up
with me. I woke up in the morning thinking about Susan,
though, and
wondering how it would feel to wear rings or other jewelry
through odd
parts of my own body.
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