Top of the World
Kayla and I just spent a week in New York City, in Manhattan, and it was everything I'd ever hoped or imagined it might be. I've been to Vegas a few times and that's exciting in the way the party never ends, but New York is like that while at the same time seeming more like a real place. Vegas is like that because that's what it was built to be. Manhattan is like that because that's how it grew up. How each got to be the way they are maybe shouldn't make a difference, but somehow to me it does. New York seems more substantial, more real, more exciting because of the difference.
We flew in on a Saturday and at we were thinking by the time we got checked into the room that we were a bit too tired from the long day of traveling (leaving home in Santa Rosa at 5 to catch a 7:30 flight, layover and change planes in Dallas, finally arrive at LaGuardia after 6:30) to go out for the evening. We were staying at a hotel on 7th Avenue, across the street from Madison Square Garden. A friend of mine had stayed there in April when he was visiting the city and told me that the roof was accessible, though he didn't know if it was supposed to be. After we'd checked in and unpacked we grabbed a blanket and a coupl of beers and took the elevator to the top floor. Following his directions we found the door and stairway to the gym but didn't go in there, continuing up the stairway to another door. We went down a hallway, past the service elevators, through another door and up another flight of stairs. I slowly opened the door at the top of those stairs and there was some kind of boiler room, with another flight of stairs, wooden this time, leading up into darkness. This sounded right so we continued up those stairs, opened the door, and stepped out into the evening, on top of Manhattan. Not really on top, maybe, but 20 or so floors up. There was still the glow of daylight off to the west, but the sky above was quickly darkening and the lights of the city were taking over. Off to the northeast was the Chrysler Building, all cool looking with it's tapered spire, and just two blocks east of us, looming over and dominating everything else, was the Empire State Building, glowing green far above us. The whole impression was breathtaking, electrifying. I still don't know if we were supposed to be up there, the labrynthine course we followed to get there would indicate not, but what a great way to be introduced to the city, taking it in without having to fight the crowds.
Kayla and I sat down on and covered ourselves with the blanket, cuddling close together for warmth against the quickly cooling evening. We drank our beers and talked excitedly about our day, traveling across the country, the cab ride into Manhattan, and where we were now, on top of everything, our own private view of this place we'd wanted to visit together since we'd first met. After a half hour or so our beers were gone and so was our weariness from traveling. We went back down to our room and showered and changed and took the elevator down to the lobby. There were still people checking in down there, but there seemed to be more people who, like us, were preparing to head out into the city, to start their evenings. So we did.
One of the things that struck me about Manhattan, and one of the things my friend had told be about after his trip, was that you can't walk a block in the city without seeing at least one absolutely gorgeous woman. I've never been good at identifying bi or lesbian woman at a glance, so I've never been any good at picking them up in public (there's no such problem on the internet), and this shortcoming never left me feeling so inadequate as it did in Manhattan. Beautiful, stunning women were everywhere, in such an amazing and heartbreaking variety. Tall, short, thin, buxom, well dressed, in raggedy jeans, with a delicious variety of accents. This is what I saw every time we went out in the streets, day or night, in any part of the city. I was in a constant state of sexual arousal, even more so than usual. And that's without even taking into consideration the guys I saw. Guys who, though not as impressive as the women, were still pretty good! I managed to physically enjoy a fair sampling of the men of the city in the week we were there, but I never had a New York woman. The next time we go back we'll have to prepare ourselves better for that.
After we'd been there a few days we woke up midmorning feeling lazy. It looked like a warm and clear day so we decided before heading down to Greenwich Village, our planned destination for the day, we'd head up to the roof for awhile again. I dropped down to the lobby and headed north on 7th about a block and a half to a market we'd found, where I picked up 4 24 oz beers and headed back. I just had on shorts, a t-shirt, and sandals, decidedly under dressed for that part of town at that time of day, but I didn't really care. Walking to and from the market I made eye contact with and smiled at several different men and women and regretted that I didn't have time at the moment to see if I could take things any farther. Kayla was waiting, though. I had to get back up to her.
We took a couple of blankets up to the roof. We could see, when we got up there in the light of day, that others used this roof for similar purposes, as there were other empty and half empty beer bottles scattered about. We folded our blankets for padding and spread them out on a flat section and lay down beside each other on our stomachs, with our tops off. I still had on my shorts, but Kayla had stripped hers off, leaving her lying there in just a thong. I had my hand on the base of her back, lazily and absent-mindedly caressing her ass and rubbing her back while we sipped our beers. After a time Kayla turned over and my hand was now on her belly. In short order my idly wandering hand took on a wider range and more purpose venturing up to her breasts and down inside her panties. I flicked, pinched, and held her nipples for awhile then wandered back down to her thong, going farther south each time. Finally my middle finger found and easily entered her wet pussy.
It's hard to describe what the feeling is like, when you slide your finger into a wet willing woman. In high school I must have let around a hundred guys into my pants. I knew I was enjoyed and appreciated by guys for the way I made them feel, and in my own selfish way I certainly enjoyed it too. I never knew back then, though, or appreciated myself what that feeling was for them, to first slide their fingers into me, to find my wetness and feel me open up for them. It's kind of like the feeling I get when I first take a cock into my mouth, the sensation that all of a sudden the situation has changed, been taken to a different level. There's a sexual quickening, the feeling that now we're getting down to business. I'm so glad I've discovered the joy of that sensation, that I've been open to and appreciate the excitement of exploring, of entering another woman.
With my finger, then my fingers, inside Kayla I moved over closer to her, kissing her shoulder, her breasts, already heating up from the sun, her neck. Finally, her lips. We sucked on each others' tongues. Her hands grabbed my ass and pulled me closer to her while I licked her teeth, her tongue, her lips. I bit her succulent lower lip, then headed down across her throat to her perfect breasts. I always have to pause and look at them; I have never seen breasts like them, perfect size, perfect shape and proportion. Kayla has a great ass, a sweet pretty face, and a wonderful, sweet and funny personality, but it's her breasts that first attracted me to her. I saw them in the pictures on her yahoo profile and just knew I had to see those in real life; I could only hope to touch them. Is it any wonder that I can't wait for her to come home every night, to climb into bed beside me, so I can spoon with her and fall back to sleep with her right breast in my hand?
I enjoyed them for a couple minutes, but then I had to get down to her pussy. I had to taste it, to tease it. I pulled her thong off of one leg and shifted my blanket so my knees wouldn't be on the bare roof, and with my ass in the air plunged in, first dipping my nose into her, ensuring I would have her scent with me throughout the day, then my tongue, going as deep as I could and licking up as much juice as I could. My tongue darted over her clit, I sucked on it, I lightly nibbled on it, then went back to dancing on it. I was getting hotter and wetter myself. I would have loved to turn around and get into a 69, but I wanted to concentrate on what was in my mouth. I wanted to enjoy her pleasure, to take in her squirming and moaning and work on manipulating it, on making her respond to me. Someone could take care of my pussy later, either Kayla or, if I got lucky, some hard and heavy cock attached to a guy I didn't yet know, I hadn't yet seen. Maybe someone who was walking down 7th avenue below us, or riding on a train to Penn Station across the street. Or maybe somebody watching me at that moment. After I'd finally had enough, after I'd made her squirm and moan and cum enough, I rolled over on my back, her pussy as my pillow. The sounds of the city, the horns and whistles and brakes and voices, returned and looking around I was reminded that although we were twenty floors up from the street there were dozens of buildings looming above us, with who knows how many people, including at least hundreds atop the Empire State Building, watching us. I raised my head and arms and waved in all directions.
We flew in on a Saturday and at we were thinking by the time we got checked into the room that we were a bit too tired from the long day of traveling (leaving home in Santa Rosa at 5 to catch a 7:30 flight, layover and change planes in Dallas, finally arrive at LaGuardia after 6:30) to go out for the evening. We were staying at a hotel on 7th Avenue, across the street from Madison Square Garden. A friend of mine had stayed there in April when he was visiting the city and told me that the roof was accessible, though he didn't know if it was supposed to be. After we'd checked in and unpacked we grabbed a blanket and a coupl of beers and took the elevator to the top floor. Following his directions we found the door and stairway to the gym but didn't go in there, continuing up the stairway to another door. We went down a hallway, past the service elevators, through another door and up another flight of stairs. I slowly opened the door at the top of those stairs and there was some kind of boiler room, with another flight of stairs, wooden this time, leading up into darkness. This sounded right so we continued up those stairs, opened the door, and stepped out into the evening, on top of Manhattan. Not really on top, maybe, but 20 or so floors up. There was still the glow of daylight off to the west, but the sky above was quickly darkening and the lights of the city were taking over. Off to the northeast was the Chrysler Building, all cool looking with it's tapered spire, and just two blocks east of us, looming over and dominating everything else, was the Empire State Building, glowing green far above us. The whole impression was breathtaking, electrifying. I still don't know if we were supposed to be up there, the labrynthine course we followed to get there would indicate not, but what a great way to be introduced to the city, taking it in without having to fight the crowds.
Kayla and I sat down on and covered ourselves with the blanket, cuddling close together for warmth against the quickly cooling evening. We drank our beers and talked excitedly about our day, traveling across the country, the cab ride into Manhattan, and where we were now, on top of everything, our own private view of this place we'd wanted to visit together since we'd first met. After a half hour or so our beers were gone and so was our weariness from traveling. We went back down to our room and showered and changed and took the elevator down to the lobby. There were still people checking in down there, but there seemed to be more people who, like us, were preparing to head out into the city, to start their evenings. So we did.
One of the things that struck me about Manhattan, and one of the things my friend had told be about after his trip, was that you can't walk a block in the city without seeing at least one absolutely gorgeous woman. I've never been good at identifying bi or lesbian woman at a glance, so I've never been any good at picking them up in public (there's no such problem on the internet), and this shortcoming never left me feeling so inadequate as it did in Manhattan. Beautiful, stunning women were everywhere, in such an amazing and heartbreaking variety. Tall, short, thin, buxom, well dressed, in raggedy jeans, with a delicious variety of accents. This is what I saw every time we went out in the streets, day or night, in any part of the city. I was in a constant state of sexual arousal, even more so than usual. And that's without even taking into consideration the guys I saw. Guys who, though not as impressive as the women, were still pretty good! I managed to physically enjoy a fair sampling of the men of the city in the week we were there, but I never had a New York woman. The next time we go back we'll have to prepare ourselves better for that.
After we'd been there a few days we woke up midmorning feeling lazy. It looked like a warm and clear day so we decided before heading down to Greenwich Village, our planned destination for the day, we'd head up to the roof for awhile again. I dropped down to the lobby and headed north on 7th about a block and a half to a market we'd found, where I picked up 4 24 oz beers and headed back. I just had on shorts, a t-shirt, and sandals, decidedly under dressed for that part of town at that time of day, but I didn't really care. Walking to and from the market I made eye contact with and smiled at several different men and women and regretted that I didn't have time at the moment to see if I could take things any farther. Kayla was waiting, though. I had to get back up to her.
We took a couple of blankets up to the roof. We could see, when we got up there in the light of day, that others used this roof for similar purposes, as there were other empty and half empty beer bottles scattered about. We folded our blankets for padding and spread them out on a flat section and lay down beside each other on our stomachs, with our tops off. I still had on my shorts, but Kayla had stripped hers off, leaving her lying there in just a thong. I had my hand on the base of her back, lazily and absent-mindedly caressing her ass and rubbing her back while we sipped our beers. After a time Kayla turned over and my hand was now on her belly. In short order my idly wandering hand took on a wider range and more purpose venturing up to her breasts and down inside her panties. I flicked, pinched, and held her nipples for awhile then wandered back down to her thong, going farther south each time. Finally my middle finger found and easily entered her wet pussy.
It's hard to describe what the feeling is like, when you slide your finger into a wet willing woman. In high school I must have let around a hundred guys into my pants. I knew I was enjoyed and appreciated by guys for the way I made them feel, and in my own selfish way I certainly enjoyed it too. I never knew back then, though, or appreciated myself what that feeling was for them, to first slide their fingers into me, to find my wetness and feel me open up for them. It's kind of like the feeling I get when I first take a cock into my mouth, the sensation that all of a sudden the situation has changed, been taken to a different level. There's a sexual quickening, the feeling that now we're getting down to business. I'm so glad I've discovered the joy of that sensation, that I've been open to and appreciate the excitement of exploring, of entering another woman.
With my finger, then my fingers, inside Kayla I moved over closer to her, kissing her shoulder, her breasts, already heating up from the sun, her neck. Finally, her lips. We sucked on each others' tongues. Her hands grabbed my ass and pulled me closer to her while I licked her teeth, her tongue, her lips. I bit her succulent lower lip, then headed down across her throat to her perfect breasts. I always have to pause and look at them; I have never seen breasts like them, perfect size, perfect shape and proportion. Kayla has a great ass, a sweet pretty face, and a wonderful, sweet and funny personality, but it's her breasts that first attracted me to her. I saw them in the pictures on her yahoo profile and just knew I had to see those in real life; I could only hope to touch them. Is it any wonder that I can't wait for her to come home every night, to climb into bed beside me, so I can spoon with her and fall back to sleep with her right breast in my hand?
I enjoyed them for a couple minutes, but then I had to get down to her pussy. I had to taste it, to tease it. I pulled her thong off of one leg and shifted my blanket so my knees wouldn't be on the bare roof, and with my ass in the air plunged in, first dipping my nose into her, ensuring I would have her scent with me throughout the day, then my tongue, going as deep as I could and licking up as much juice as I could. My tongue darted over her clit, I sucked on it, I lightly nibbled on it, then went back to dancing on it. I was getting hotter and wetter myself. I would have loved to turn around and get into a 69, but I wanted to concentrate on what was in my mouth. I wanted to enjoy her pleasure, to take in her squirming and moaning and work on manipulating it, on making her respond to me. Someone could take care of my pussy later, either Kayla or, if I got lucky, some hard and heavy cock attached to a guy I didn't yet know, I hadn't yet seen. Maybe someone who was walking down 7th avenue below us, or riding on a train to Penn Station across the street. Or maybe somebody watching me at that moment. After I'd finally had enough, after I'd made her squirm and moan and cum enough, I rolled over on my back, her pussy as my pillow. The sounds of the city, the horns and whistles and brakes and voices, returned and looking around I was reminded that although we were twenty floors up from the street there were dozens of buildings looming above us, with who knows how many people, including at least hundreds atop the Empire State Building, watching us. I raised my head and arms and waved in all directions.
Labels: lesbian sex, Manhattan, public sex
posted by Thumper at 8:03 AM
4 Comments:
hey great to see your back keep up the good work
Thanks! I'll try to update more often (I know, I've said that before).
looks like you two had agreat time still i wish i knew ya were in town i could have shown you guys around
Well vinoman, next time we (or just me) are there we'll give you a heads-up first.
Actually, Kayla talk about and even plan on going on a lot of trips together but very rarely follow through on them. If I'd been more sure that we were actually going to be going I would have asked people in advance for ideas of some things we should do. As it was, we did okay. Looking back over a few months now, one of my nicest memories is of walking around Central Park with her, seeing together all those things you always see lovers in the movies do. We even made out in the grass. That was fun.
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