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She nodded slightly and then closed her eyes as she relaxed. When it started, all warm on my chest, she opened her eyes again and looked down at me, snorting once, and then rocking her hips a little, but of course, she couldn’t move her stream much. I lowered my face into it, letting it play on both sides briefly before I turned my face up to it and caught it in my mouth, all warm and inoffensive tasting, moving my face towards her pussy as I held her ass, and she spread her knees when she understood that I wanted to have my mouth right on it, snorting again, giving a last pulse to it as it petered out to a dribble and stopped, as my tongue lapped over where it had been flowing and she held my head to her for a few moments and let us both enjoy what I was doing.

Then she urged me to get up, still holding my head as I did, and then looked at me with a snort and another wry smile and murmured:

“We like anything – everything. ‘Smussig,’ … what’s the English word for that? Wanting to do something like that?”

“Um-hmm,” I agreed and smiled as I slid my hands up to her still wet breasts:

“… ‘smussig?’ … probably that’s ‘smutty,’ but ‘raunchy’ is probably the word I would use: something sexy, but a little beyond the normal.”

Martha nodded with a smile in agreement as I thought to explain it better:

“Smutty is dirty, a derogatory word. Raunchy is just something others might not want to do.”

Martha nodded again with a grin and agreed:

“Yeah, that’s it – ‘raunchy.’ I had heard it somewhere, but didn’t know what it meant.”

She grinned again and added:

“Like wanting to kiss someone who just did that,” and she did – we did – both of us snickering a little as our tongues explored in each other’s mouth.

“Raunchy,” she said again, and I agreed:

“Real nice and raunchy.”

she snickered with a nod, and then turned and leaned down to turn on the water.

After our shower, that was accompanied by more snickers, and my shaving, we dried ourselves, and Martha snickered again and said:

“Now no one will know.”

“But I will still want to,” I rejoined, and she nodded and replied:

“That’s nice to know; me too.”

Then I snickered and suggested:

“You could try it at home, before a date. Get your brother to do it and then see if your friend acted different, more reserved, less eager.”

Martha laughed and replied:

“Only, maybe, if I wanted to break up with him, – Hmm! – … if it worked. But I don’t know about getting my brother to do it; … we’d have to sort of work up to it, … like we did …” “That could be fun, too,” I replied with a grin.

Martha just nodded with a smile and hung up her towel and started to wipe the bathmat around with her foot as I hung up mine, thinking that we had to be sure that we remembered to get my shaving things back to my bathroom.

We got dressed in her room. “No tie,” she said, and then we were on our way. She held my hand in the elevator, but then understood that we shouldn’t when going past the man at the desk and also on the street and then suggested, herself, as we walked north, that she could introduce me as a student from Colombia, if we met anyone she knew. I liked that – her perspicuity – and then asked teasingly:

“And where did you meet me?”

She grinned at me and then thought for a moment and replied:

“I went up to Colombia on my day off once, and you just happened along.”

“Did you?”

“Not really,” Martha replied with another grin, and then we crossed 86th Street, and she led me to a little restaurant named “Christiania”.

Martha explained that that had been the name of Oslo when Norway was ruled by the Danes and later until after Norway separated from Sweden.

It was a neat, simple place, and apparently frequented mainly by Norwegians, older immigrants and younger ones, or maybe just visitors to New York. The waiter greeted Martha in Norwegian, with a glance at me, and she said something in reply, and then we were sitting at one of the table, soon with bottles of Norwegian beer, and ordered our meal. She did, I agreeing to have whatever she wanted. She said it was a salmon soup, “or maybe a stew.” While we waited for it, an older man came over, apparently recognizing Martha, and introduced himself in an strong accent as he sat down:

“I’m Oystein. Where did you meet Martha?”

“At Colombia,” I replied, thankful for her suggestion.

“Oh,” he replied: “… very good university. You study there?”

I confirmed that I did, and Martha said something in Norwegian. Oystein nodded as he started to get up and said:

“We try to watch out for our young Norwegian girls. Don’t want them to be getting in trouble. The big city, you understand.”

Martha glanced at me with a wry smile, as I nodded to Oystein, and she replied:

“Thank you. I wouldn’t have brought him here unless I thought he was nice.”

Oystein nodded and returned to his two friends as bahis firmaları Martha winked at me. And then they were talking as Martha whispered: “I expected something like that.”

Then our soup came, a hearty soup, a whole meal, and very good, although different from anything I had ever had – and better than fiskeboller. We chatted easily, and had another beer, and then Martha wanted to pay. I offered again to do so, but she insisted, which made me feel funny, but the waiter didn’t seem surprised as she spoke to him in Norwegian, and then we were back on the street, holding hands, exchanging clasps as I thanked her for the meal, first in English, but then remembering to say “Takk for maten,” and she clasped my hand again and replied “Vel bekomme.” And in a few minutes we were back at our apartment, no longer holding hands as we greeted the man at the desk.

In the elevator, when she took my hand again, I wondered if the deskman would mention to my parents that we had been out together – but only for dinner – and then thinking that I could tell them that we had gone out instead of eating in.

Then we were back in the apartment, snickering a little again as we looked at each other after closing the door. Was she also wondering if we were just going to get undressed and do it again?

“We could do something else,” she suggested with a smile, as though she had read my thoughts.

“Um-hmm,” I agreed, although it occurred to me to reply that we wouldn’t “get to Christmas” if we did, but it was a good idea, and I added:

“Yeah, we played backgammon and Scrabble … my sister and I.”

Martha snorted again but only said:

“I never played either, but I bet you can teach me how, … too,” and smirked at me.

I nodded with a smirk of my own and then snickered and said:

“But you may not be able to learn as fast.” She snickered too, and remarked:

“Maybe not, but then I can have something to tell that we did.”

“Me too,” I agreed, and we and found the games in a cupboard in the library.

“Backgammon or Scrabble?” I asked.

“Backgammon; we play Scrabble at home in Norwegian.”

So I set up the backgammon board and tried to explain the rules to her. And then we played a game with my helping her, and she learned fairly quickly, grinning with delight when she could send one of my pieces off the board.

When the game was over, we decided to have a beer, and she jumped up and went to get them, pleasantly surprising me when she returned with them in glasses, not that I would have objected to drinking from a can in the library, but it seemed more appropriate, and I appreciated that she felt the same way. After we skaaled, we set up the board again and had another sip, and it suddenly occurred to me that we could make it more interesting by combining it with strip poker: taking off a piece of clothing for each piece sent off the board.

When I explained my idea to her, she just grinned and nodded, but then scowled and remarked: “That gives you an advantage,” and thought for a moment and explained: “I’ve only got five pieces – with my sandals – and you have …” and she thought again: “… eight, with shoes and socks.” So we agreed that my footwear would come off in pairs, and started the second game.

When she had the first chance to send one of my pieces off, she asked if she had the choice of what I had to take off, but I replied that she didn’t. It would be a risky move for her, but she took it, and I took off my shoes. Of course, I had to get the piece back on the board again, but I was lucky and could also send off the piece that she had just risked. For a moment, she fingered the buttons of her dress as she grinned at me, undoing a couple, but then took off one of her sandals. Then for a couple of turns, we protected our single pieces, and she got hers back in play, but then she had to leave one of her uncovered, but I couldn’t remove it, but she couldn’t protect it, and with my next turn I did send it off, risking two unprotected pieces, but by then we both understood that winning the game was less important. She grinned at me again and then pulled up the skirt of her dress and slid her hand up under it behind her back and with a little difficulty unhooked her bra, and then with some more difficulty managed to slip the straps through the sleeves of her dress and over her elbows and hands, and finally pulled it out the opened neck of her dress, grinning at me all the while. “La dolce Vita?” I asked. “Um-hmm,” she agreed with another grin.

Then it was her turn, and she got her piece back on the board, but couldn’t send off one of my pieces. We had another sip of beer. I threw my dice and then she grinned when she recognized that I couldn’t send off one of her pieces and also could not protect my other piece. She had the good luck to send it off. I took off my shirt. The next couple of turns we played safe, covering our single pieces and trying to advance, but then when it was her turn again, after throwing her dice, she grinned kaçak iddaa at me and moved so that four pieces of her pieces could be sent off.

“That wasn’t very sensible,” I remarked as I threw my own dice.

Martha just grinned, and waited for me to move, taking off her other sandal as I sent off one of her pieces, and then snickering as she waited for me to remove another one, leaving two of mine then exposed. She undid another button of her dress, but then smiled impishly and reached under the skirt of it with both hands, leaning forward enough to shift her weight onto her feet for a moment as she slipped her panties down past her hips and sat down again and slid them down her thighs and over her knees and let them drop to her feet, and then picked them up and smiled at me.

She managed to get her pieces back on the board, removing one of mine, and I took off my socks, and with my move, I could have removed one of her pieces, but didn’t. She had already undone another button in anticipation that I would, leaving her shirtwaist dress open almost to her waist. My move had exposed even more of my pieces, so she couldn’t avoid sending off at least one of them, and then grinned and snickered and removed a second one. I had to take of my slacks and choose between my t-shirt and underpants. I teased her by taking of my underpants, stretching the hem of my t-shirt down to cover myself, and then tucking it under my sex as I sat down again.

She snickered, and we both had a drink of our beers with another skaal, and then I threw my dice, a luckless double that didn’t let me play my pieces back on the board. She grinned and threw her dice, playing two pieces back on the board, but leaving two unprotected, and grinned at me again, waiting for me to throw mine. I had to play my pieces back onto the board, and had to remove one of hers, but she looked pleased, smiling at me as she pulled her skirt up from under her hips and then pulled her dress up over her head., smirking at me as she held it by the shoulders and shook it and then laid it aside.

She smiled at me in her nakedness, her light pink nipples nicely aroused. They really were perfect – on her – I thought as I sat up straighter and let my t-shirt slip up from my sex, sharing in her nakedness. She glanced down at him, and he stirred, and then I found my glass and offered:

“Here’s looking at you, skaal.”

She looked at me and raised hers and responded as her eyes dropped for a moment:

“And at you, skaal,” and we both drank and then looked in each other’s eyes again.

She set down her glass and threw her dice, managing to get her piece back on the board but not to remove one of mine. But with my turn, I could send off another one of hers, leaving two more of mine exposed.

“What do I do now?” she asked.

“Just let me enjoying looking at you,” I replied, appreciating that her nipples had tightened again. She smiled and threw her dice and was able to remove two of my pieces, and grinned and said:

“One for your undershirt and one for looking at you.”

I took off my t-shirt, and she was looking at me – looking at him. It must have been a very warm look; he felt it …, and she chuckled softly and then asked:

“And what do we do now?”

“Finish the game.”

“Do we have to?” … I can think of something better.”

“Me too,” I agreed, wondering what form her reply would have.

She looked at me with a smile and then a smirk and said:

“I haven’t had any dessert yet.”

“Me neither,” I agreed, thinking that I could have anticipated her response.

“Later, for you; I want mine right now,” and she glanced up at me: “… and here. … And then you can have yours … anyway you want it.”

I chuckled with a nod as she got up and came around the end of the table, and moved my chair around towards her as she dropped to her knees on the carpet. “Um-hmm,” she replied as she stared at him, and he was already looking forward to being able to offer her her dessert, and so was I as I spread my knees.

“No, on the table; I want to be raunchy,” and she glanced up at me with a smirk:

“… do something maybe others wouldn’t enjoy.”

I snorted with a chuckle and nod and started to get up.

“But you think I will,” I remarked as I sat on the edge of the table, pushing the backgammon board aside. “Um-hmm,” she agreed with a snicker as she moved on her knees towards me, adding: “And I will too,” glancing up at me with a smirk, and then she was looking at him again as I spread my knees.

“Smussig,” she murmured to herself as she lowered her head, licking my balls, licking all over and around them as I watched her. Then she opened her mouth and sucked on one, and then took a breath and opened her mouth wider and sucked on it again, harder, as she pressed her face against me, and it slipped into her mouth. “Uhn,” we both agreed, and then her tongue caressed it as she sucked again, her lips holding it in her mouth. “Uhnnnn,” she hummed, buzzing kaçak bahis on it, and glanced up at me with smiling eyes. Then after a moment more that way, humming and licking, she released it and with her hand helped to get the other one in her mouth, treating it the same way as she chuckled in her throat, and I could feel her breath in my hair as she sucked and licked, holding it as closely in her mouth as she could.

“Mmmm, that feels good,” I encouraged her, and she nodded slightly with a responding “uhn-hnnn” that I could feel more than hear, as I wondered what she was going to do next.

While she still sucked and licked my ball, her hands slid under my thighs, urging me to raise them. Did she want to do that, I thought – raunchy/ “smussig”? – as I leaned back on my elbows and drew my thighs up. She let it slip from her mouth, and I felt her tongue licking behind my balls, down further. Yes, she did! Her tongue slid down further, sliding over my asshole, up and down over it – tantalizing, feeling good. “Um-hmm,” I encouraged her again and saw the top of her head nod as she continued, and then her tongue was probing in it, probing as hard as it could! “Uhnnn!” I responded in a reflex, and it probed again. Yes, the tip of her tongue pressing in it, moving. She was raunchy! Nice and raunchy!

“Unnn! Oooh, … that feels good too. Maybe a little like when my tongue is in you.”

She nodded, and her mouth was all around it, sucking as her tongue probed. And then her tongue slid back up and up over my balls as she raised her head, and it slid up the back of my stiff cock as she looked up at me, and then said:

“I hope so, … and now that it feels like when you’re in me.”

She drew him towards her, having to pull hard to get him where she could get him in her mouth. I sat back up again to make it easier for her, and then it was feeling like when it was in her pussy as her tongue moved on him, and then she began to suck and nod her head, fucking him with her mouth, her head bobbing up and down as she held him to the roof of her mouth with her tongue.

“Oh yes, fuck me, suck me with your raunchy mouth,” I whispered: “… that is so good, like in your cunt, … your tight sweet cunt. I want to suck your tongue for that, kiss your raunchy, ass-licking mouth.”

“Uhn-hnnn,” she buzzed on my cock with a nod that broke the rhythm of her cock-sucking.

“You’re going to make me come in your mouth, … make me give you all ‘that white stuff’, all the crème from my éclair, all the sauce for your ‘fiskeboller’.”

“Uhn-hnn,” she agreed, and he was about too, feeling like he could give her a helping of each.

“And then I’m going to eat your pussy/cunt, … and lick your sweet asshole like you did, … even better, … maybe do even more, … as raunchy as can be …”

“Uhnnn!” He started to come, before I could finish what I was saying. My hips jerked as he came again. “Uhnn!” I gasped again: “Yes! … Fucking white stuff! Uhnn! Crème and sauce! Uhnn! … All in your mouth. Uhnn! … Uhnn!”

I held her head still, my cock twitching as she licked it, and then she just held it.

“God, you do that good!” I sighed: “… just so fucking, cock-sucking good.”

She nodded, and I continued:

“I hope it makes your pussy all moist and warm, wanting to have it in it.”

She nodded again with a deep hum in her throat, still holding him, but then she let him slip from her mouth and looked up at me.

“Um-hmm, … it wants it real good, real fucking good. …. I want it real fucking, raunchy good, … every way you can do it,” and she stood up and reached for my beer glass.

I nodded with a little snort and smile, wondering if she was referring to what I had said before as she drank. I reached across the table for her glass and finished it. She emptied mine then, and I reached out with my feet and drew her to me, setting down the glass and holding her breasts. She raised them up with a smile as I said:

“I will, but first I want to kiss your raunchy, cock-sucking mouth,” and did, holding my lips together till she forced her tongue between them with a snicker, making me think that she also was thinking about what she had done before that.

“Like that, too,” I murmured, and she nodded slightly.

“In the kitchen,” I murmured against her lips: “I’m going to make you come all over the place.”

“Um-hmm,” she agreed with a pleased hum and thrust her tongue into my mouth again.

We grabbed our glasses and went to the kitchen. Martha immediately got the rubber out of the table drawer and then hopped up on the table with a snicker.

We really were raunchy, I thought as I looked at her pussy and lowered my face to it, kissing and licking her pubic hair, and then dropping to my knees. She dropped back on the table so that she could draw her thighs up even further, rolling her hips up to my mouth as she held them.

And then I was eating her pussy, and not just her pussy, as she held her knees up to her breasts. My tongue and then my mouth was all over her, between her cunt and her asshole, back and forth, probing equally in both, and she was enjoying it, encouraging me when she felt my tongue on her asshole:

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