Archive-name: Casual/susanski.txt
Archive-author: S. B. Douglass (c) 1991
Archive-title: Susan
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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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