European Grooming

European Grooming European Grooming

Status: Finished

Genre: Erotica

Details

Status: Finished

Genre: Erotica

Summary

I love chance encounters of the Erotic kind . . .

Summary

I love chance encounters of the Erotic kind . . .

Content

Submitted: November 02, 2015

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Content

Submitted: November 02, 2015

A A A

A A A


European Grooming

It has often been said that if you met a Homo Erectus in the street and wearing clothes, you wouldn't dream of wondering if was really a person... a human being. I'd been wandering around the paloeanthropology gallery at the London Natural History Museum for about half an hour. Most people just dip in and out of the galleries, but along with me in taking their time, was an unlikely looking American couple. She, late twenties, I guessed. Clearly an expert in the field and explaining exhibits in detail to her younger, taller, conservatively dressed, male companion. It was her commentry that first caught my attention, but when I peeped round the display, what I saw kept it.

She was a bit shorter than me with spiky, short pink hair and an elfin face. Her eyes were alive, green and intelligent, complexion pale with freckles around her nose. She wore a knee length, light weight summer coat over a green, much shorter skirt and a green and black striped jumper. On her feet were Docs with a spring flower design, and she wore over-the-knee green and black striped socks which left an enticing band of bare leg below her skirt hem.

Was it deliberate that we were now standing looking at the same exhibit; a magnificent diorama with a disconcertingly life-like, and startlingly human looking in her nudity, Homo Erectus woman gazing out at us? We had seemed to be being drawn to one another... catching each other's eye across a display case or around a cabinet or marble column, and quickly looking away again. Contriving to get close without seeming to do it on purpose, then exchanging smiles over naive questions from the man. And now, here we were, standing side-by-side, the tension feeling like static in my hair, drawing me towards her... but our eyes were fixed on the woman behind the glass.

'Gee, I think she needs to wax!'

In that instant, the ice was broken... all the tension evaporated as the grin spread across my face and I heard myself teasing; 'Ah, I guess she's probably European'. And as she laughed, I felt her arm slide around my back and her hand trace across the contours of my bottom, pausing perhaps a little longer than necessary at the place where she may find my panty line. I smiled and looked into her eyes, finding a wicked glint in the languid pools of pupils so large I felt I might drown.

'Trimmed but not shaven', I replied to her unspoken question... and I saw her swallow, licking her lips seductively as, without taking her eyes from mine, she guided my hand inside her coat, placing it on the smooth skin above her socks. Now I swallowed as she guided my hand higher until I felt the thin soft cotton of her panties, slightly damp over her obviously shaved sex. As I moved her panties aside, I realised I could feel her fingers exploring me too and I knew we were lost... I found her rhythm quickly and soon we were as one. I knew my climax was coming as surely as thunder follows lightning, and hers was coming too... two long-lost sisters seeing each other from a distance before running together and exploding into a passionate embrace that neither wants to let end.

'Gotta run', she said as she slipped her card into my hand, 'need to find my nephew and get to the airport'. The aftershocks were still making my legs weak and the world still felt like marshmallow as she leaned in and kissed me deeply. Later, I sat in the cafe reflecting on my second orgasm in this museum, thinking I seem to be making a habit of it. Carolee was the name on the card... and in the summer, she's taking me to the Smithsonian...


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