Juri
Today I saw Juri for the first time.
Understand that I met her three days ago, when she accompanied her graduate professor and mentor, Dr. What’s-His-Name to my abode. Ostensibly, the doctor was trying to save my soul from my self-made daemons, however, both he and I know that this noble cause merely masked his onward trek towards psycho-fame.
Juri sat across from me for three days in this tiny room; three two-hour afternoon sessions in the middle of the hottest spring on record; six full hours of golden sunlight caressing her body through the single barred window to my right. I spent so much effort dodging the bull-drivel that What’s-His-Name spat that I failed to notice the beauty only a table’s span away.
Did I mention that I saw Juri for the first time when she walked into the room this afternoon?
“...and this—specter—visited you that night in jail?”
Doctor What’s-His-Name, the well-educated clinical psychologist, in his own mind one of the best known in the country, asked me another inane question.
How many times must I answer that prick’s inquiry? He didn’t care. He didn’t believe. Behind those round bifocals, behind those cold gray eyes, he saw only the body text of his latest article.
“Yes,” I replied simply. For the hundredth time.
What’s-His-Name smiled wryly, pleased with the intelligent insight he just tapped on his slate. If he only knew...
I looked at his fat, pink face and laughed inwardly at the sweat beading along his thinning gray hairline. He was likely re-thinking that three-piece navy blue suit right now—the asylum’s decrepit air conditioning failed around four a.m. last night, and it was hot. I could feel droplets of sweat trickling down my sides, too. It must be ninety-five outside and a scant ten degrees cooler, if that, in here.
To make the visitation bearable, Micky, one the interns, had brought in an oscillating fan to push around the hot air. He had also bound me hand and foot with chains, bright silver ones that clinked assuredly when I fidgeted, to prevent me from throwing my jugular onto the spinning blades (“Sorry, J.D.,” he had said. “Rules are rules.”).
“Tell me what happened, J.D.,” What’s-His-Name asked, leaning back in the squeaky chair, sucking on the leg of his wire-rimmed glasses in a farce of scholarly interest.
Bored, I looked away. Or perhaps it was the soporific medication, I don’t remember. I have trouble concentrating sometimes.
I looked up at the steel blue bars on the open window six feet above me and inhaled slowly to clear my mind. Sunlight cut through the air, which was thick and sweet, like syrup, flavored with the blossoms of the cherry trees flowering in the front lawn of the Walnut Hills Sanitarium.
Cool name for a nut house, don’t you think?
“J.D.?”
Ah. Juri’s lyrical voice blended with the gentle hum of the fan, a sensual duet that sent goose bumps galloping down my back. I found the sensation both cooling and intensely arousing at once.
I closed my eyes as the fan blew her breath across my face and sniffed the air, nostrils flaring like a bloodhound, inhaling her scent. Her pheromones, palpable, sugar-sweet, melted into my brain like snowflakes on her pretty pink tongue.
A chair squeaked. Fingers tapped on a keyboard. The chains on my feet jingled when I crossed my feet.
The moment was building. I’ve learned how to identify it, a Pavlovian response of sorts, but I can’t explain it any more than I can explain the way of a man with a woman. I just know.
It’s going to happen.
It excites me because I just don’t know what will...
“Tell me what happened, J.D.,” What’s-His-Name prodded.
“It was around three-thirty in the morning,” I answered, taking my time, mulling over the words as if I had uncovered something in my dulled subconscious. “I hadn’t slept because it was so hot that night. I knew she was coming for me.”
“You don’t seem to have much luck when it comes to air-conditioning,” What’s-His-Name said, chuckling at his lame humor, leaning forward, and thinking that, with this recount, perhaps the story will be different.
He thought I was crazy. He asserted that these events live only in my fragile mind.
Well, on some plane of reality, perhaps he is correct.
It’s hard to concentrate sometimes.
Unexpectedly, the subtle smell of Juri’s perfume washed over my face. Synapses in my brain fired. The past burst like a ripe milkweed and I followed the memories as they floated about on the fan’s breeze.
I suddenly realized that I had a concrete recollection of Juri on each visit. Each was there, painted on the delicate wisps floating before me. Her wardrobe was obviously practical, not provocative; silk blouse, pants, cotton jacket. Today the scoop of her bone-white blouse revealed a hint of cleavage as the soft material draped over her small bosom.
And her face—how could I have missed such beauty? Clean. That’s the only way I could describe her. Clean. As though she had just stepped out of the shower. Steamy water sliding in rivers over that dark flesh, disappearing into the forest at her mons. The invocation of that image made my cock swell...
“...and it was very hot…” What’s-His-Name urged.
Her skin, smoother than the unblemished silk of her blouse, was so rich in color, like coffee and cream. My mouth watered at the mere thought of her taste. Her eyes were big, brown, inquisitive; and her mouth—lovely, capable of big, beautiful smiles full of shiny white teeth and a wonderful pink tongue. A mass of brown-streaked, black curls, so thick and luxurious that I wanted to jump naked into it, counterbalanced her narrow chin.
I could get lost in those curls.
I opened my eyes and dared to fasten them on her décolletage, to that little swelling of flesh pushed up by her brassier. If I held my breath, I could see the enticing slope quiver slightly with each heartbeat.
What’s-His-Name’s chair squeaked impatiently.
“I felt her. She would toy with me,” I said. “Even before I first saw her, I knew something strange was happening. She would touch me, stroke my cock, tug my sack, stick her tongue in my ear. I could smell her, feel her breath on my neck, on my crotch. I remember the first time she kissed me. I was standing on the bus, riding downtown.”
The doctor made a note on his expensive slate.
Jack ass.
I perked at Juri’s soft voice.
“So, before you actually saw her, you could feel her touch you?” Juri asked. “Was she invisible?”
She unscrewed the white cap of her bottled water and took a cool sip as I moved my fascination to her mouth. I imagined the exhilaration of my cock parting those wonderful lips for the first time. I imagined that it was me she was drinking...
“Yes,” I replied.
“And she visited you, rather, you saw her corporeal form on several occasions?” asked What’s-His-Name.
I nodded.
“The same woman?” he asked.
“Yes, the same one,” I confirmed. My gaze returned to Juri’s neckline.
“Every time.”
The heat of my stare must have made her uncomfortable. She folded her arms over her breasts defensively, which, to my delight, pushed them further upward.
“...tell me about her.”
I decided to look away, choosing to watch the silhouetted rhododendrons outside the window. “The last time...well, she glowed. She always glowed. It was dark, lights out at eleven, you know, but her skin glowed, like the light of a firefly, only warmer.”
“And she was nude…”
Pervert. Of course she was naked.
“Yes, always,” I said. “Her hair was white, long and shiny. Even her pussy hair was white and silky, like the hair of her head. It glowed, too, and it smelled like honeysuckle. Her eyes were blue, like cat’s-eye marbles, and her teeth—she had sharp teeth…”
“Like a vampire?”
“Yes.” The details I’ve offered with each interview disturb him. Like the Italy-shaped birthmark on her inner right thigh, the texture of her hair, the uncanny tightness of her cunt; the fact that she didn’t have gargantuan breasts like a pinup.
He seemed especially disappointed at that last revelation.
“She called my name and I looked around and I was alone,” I said. “When this happened, no matter where it happened, no matter who was there, I was suddenly alone with her.”
“What did she do?”
“I couldn’t resist her. Her touch, her smell was overwhelming. Just the thought of it still gives me a ninety.”
Juri recapped her water and set the half-liter bottle beside her untouched notepad. “Ninety?” she asked, looking to the doctor with confused innocence.
“Erection,” clarified What’s-His-Name. “Ninety degrees.”
“Yeah,” I confirmed. “Straight out when you’re standing.” I demonstrated with the index finger of my right hand. “A real throbber is a one-eighty.” I tilted my finger upward.
“Oh,” she said. Her dark cheeks reddened a bit and she smiled, glancing to her lap in embarrassment for a few seconds before fixing her clear eyes on mine.
Perhaps it was pity. Perhaps it was genuine interest. I preferred to think it was much more. Was she sensing the rift? Did she subconsciously realize that we were teetering on a slip in time into which both of us would inevitably tumble?
I continued to talk, sinking into the depths of those gorgeous eyes. She folded her French-manicured fingers on her lap, settling into an outward pose of intellectual interest, but I suspected otherwise.
I could smell her perfume, envision it boiling from between her breasts like volcanic gasses, hot, provocative, sizzling, beautiful—time was slowing.
It was coming...
I continued. “She touched the bars of the cell with her fingers…”
Desire for Juri consumed the marrow of my bones. I couldn’t explain what I was doing. I had never done it before. Something erupted deep inside me and I mentally reached out to her as I spoke.
“...running them up and down the metal like she was stroking a throbber, you know…”
The thumping of my heart eclipsed my voice in my ears as I slipped my fingers under the fabric of Juri’s blouse. My touch took her breath, like a splash of cold water.
“...then she stood back and the bars fell around the floor like toothpicks…”
Juri swooned. Her eyes fluttered as I caressed her breast, kneading the tender flesh in my invisible hand. I felt her nipple harden under my thumb, from my chair I saw the tiny bulges form beneath her blouse. The folds of her pussy began to swell and that wonderful opening moistened beneath my tongue as I tasted her.
“...we made love. She sucked me until I came. We fucked over and over for what seemed like hours...over and over, but time has no meaning there. She licked me with her tongue, bit me with her teeth…”
I took a deep breath to calm myself. My cock bowed so tightly against my pants I had to shift in my chair.
Chains clanked. Juri sat erect as one avoiding the urgency of sleep in the heat. She was handling this well. Then she sat back, crossed her legs, and felt the wetness of her panties...
“Are you all right, Juri?” asked What’s-His-Name.
“No. Yes. I’m...fine,” she blurted, uncrossing her legs and planting her feet firmly on the concrete floor.
“You look really flushed. Are you too hot?”
She uncapped the bottled water and took a quick, nervous sip. “No, I’m fine,” she insisted, replacing the cap after several unsuccessful attempts.
I continued.
“When she comes to me, we fuck. It’s the best I’ve ever had. Nothing—no one—has ever come close to the experience. When it’s over, I’m back where it started. Nothing has changed. I have no recollection of how I got back there, but I smell her body on my chest. My cock smells like her cunt. I can taste her on my lips.”
Then I decided to reveal something more to him. “I don’t even know if she’s human.”
I really didn’t. It’s hard to remember sometimes.
“You think she’s an alien?” The doctor asked, almost grinning.
“Maybe,” I said. “Maybe not.” Oh, he enjoyed that one.
What’s-His-Name typed something on his slate. Wrong, probably. He sighed and his face assumed that blank expression I’ve noticed when he has had enough.
“Juri, do you have anything you’d like to ask?”
“Well–”
She smiled, spreading full lips to open that big, gorgeous mouth and squirmed her lovely wet ass in her seat. What would she ask? I tilted forward in anticipation to engage her fully.
“...”
It was here.
“Excuse me, Doctor—” Juri’s words froze like a glacier in her throat.
The fan hummed.
We were alone.
She stood in alarm, gasping, eyes wide with fear, looking to me for an explanation. Strange. I seem to remember that feeling, too.
“What’s happening?” she mouthed without speaking.
I stood, pushed the chair away, and walked around the table towards her. She stepped back, fearful, at the sudden realization that my chains were gone.
How could I possibly console her? I hardly believed it myself.
“Don’t be afraid, Juri,” I said quietly, “I won’t hurt you.” I felt my body changing, felt my cock shift in my pants. She was changing me; I was adjusting to her subconscious whims.
“No!” she shouted. “Stay away from me!”
“Do you think you caught my madness?” I asked laughing.
She pulled her chair between us, her fingers gripping the back so tightly I thought she might break her shiny nails. How could I assuage her fears? I tried to remember my first experience. How did I succumb?
I can’t remember. Did I tell you that I’ve had trouble concentrating?
I probably should have waited, but, you should know me by now, I can’t keep my mouth shut.
“Juri,” I said, “this is what I’ve been talking about for nearly three days.”
“I don’t understand,” she said, voice quaking, tears beginning to pool in her wonderful brown eyes. Then she caught the noticeable throbber in my khakis. A full one-eighty, made to order by the most beautiful woman on the planet. As far as I knew, she was the only woman on the planet at the moment...
“I’m not her to violate you, Juri,” I tried to assure her. “I’m here for you…”
“I won’t let you touch me,” she insisted, jabbing an index finger at me, obviously not believing my intentions, tying to convey her inevitable resistance.
How could I make her understand? I was never that obstinate.
Then, I tried reaching out to her in the same manner as I had earlier. I felt a tingle, like a tiny electrical current running the length of my body, and then I knew it was complete. This moment was forged forever in time. If such a thing still existed.
I imagined my hands cupping her sweet face. I ran my fingers lightly over the rim of her ears, behind the lobes, glided my palms over her damp shoulders, around her back, down to her tight ass. I spread my fingers wide and allowed the cove of my palms to slither over the delightfully supple flesh of her buttocks. She swooned again, as she had earlier.
Then she did something unexpected.
Actually, when I think about it, it wasn’t that unexpected. After all, what would you have done?
She ran.
Out the door. I heard the scuffle of her shoes on the hall linoleum, the slide of the soles when she missed the right turn to the guard’s station.
So, I followed. I was reminded of the cartoon where the amorous skunk follows the hapless object of his affection.
“Where are you my darling?” I said playfully in a horrible French accent.
Did I run my first time? Of course. The second and third times, too.
Maybe. I can’t say that I remember.
I followed her through the vacant halls and open doors into the sticky afternoon sun. I found her kneeling breathless under one of the many flowering cherry trees, the oldest one that stood on the corner of the property by the gate. A tall gate. A gate that was always locked.
Ten feet away, I spoke.
“Juri?”
She stood hesitantly and, I have to say, I didn’t know what she was going to do.
Then, it was as though something melted between us. I walked to her, took her in my arms and buried my face in her fragrant hair. She squeezed me tightly and I felt an indescribable emotional release. I was hers. She was mine.
I pushed my cock against her belly and I could feel her heart pounding in concert with mine. Her smell—perfume, sweat, mixed with the earthy aroma of her wet cunt—curled around my nostrils like intoxicating incense, as thick and rich as her hair.
I pulled her head back and clamped my mouth to her hers, tasting that warm tongue and her full lips. Still in embrace, I peeled away her jacket and let it fall to the grass. I explored her mouth with the tip of my tongue as I began to undo the tiny buttons of her blouse with my left hand.
One by one, five in all, the pearl buttons released beneath my touch and the silk slipped from her shoulders. I pulled myself from her lips and she raised her arms so that could undo her delicate white brassier. I unfastened the clasp and watched it slip from her supple brown flesh. That in itself was tremendously arousing, almost a metaphor for orgasm as the tightly bound orbs suddenly released from their confines.
Juri’s skin was amazing, the same wonderful hue throughout, soft, sweet, perfect. I ran fingertips along the tiny creases in her flesh caused by the seams of her brassier, paused slightly at her ribs under her arms for a playful tickle. Her abs tightened and I saw her smile for the first time since it happened.
I cupped her athletic breasts in my hands, raising them slightly and letting the softness fall again into my palms. I sucked on the black pebbly flesh of her nipples, which stood erect, turgid, under my kiss. As I traced a path to her navel with my tongue, I knelt and unfastened her khaki slacks, letting them fall to the arches of her brown, open-toed sandals.
The flat muscles of her tummy hardened as I nipped at the wet crotch of her white cotton panties playfully. She leaned back against the tree trunk and raised her thigh to give me access. I felt her shiver when the stubble of my cheek brushed her inner thigh.
I lapped at her cunt through the cotton with my tongue, pressing firmly against her clit, tasting her wetness. Juri breathed quietly and deeply throughout all this with serenely closed eyes.
I’m not sure that I had acquiesced so quickly and completely on my first experience.
After a few moments, I kissed her pubes firmly and stood to remove my clothes. I kicked off my shoes and began to undo my shirt. Juri slipped her thin dark fingers under the lapels of my shirt, pulled it over my shoulders, and kissed my nipples, sucking lightly. She ran her nimble pink tongue down my belly as I had done to her and unfastened my belt hastily, jerking my pants to the ground.
My cock was hard, a one-eighty, straining to reach vertical against the plain fabric of my boxers. I felt her hushed gasp as she peeled my boxers to my thighs. She knelt there for a few moments, inhaling my scent as I swelled to completion.
As I stepped out of my clothes, my shaft brushed against her smooth cheek. I flexed it a few times. I leaned towards her to let the dark curls tickle the firm head.
She ran her cool fingers behind my thighs and cupped my ass as I had done to her. I felt her hot breath on the base of my cock. She began tugging at my pubic hair with her teeth and, after an anxious wait, gently took my cock in her cold, nervous hands. She kissed the base of my throbber, kissing all around it, teasing me, lifting it against my belly to kiss my sack, sliding the skin methodically back and forth over the shaft. Her hair brushed against my thighs and made me weak.
Only then, when I looked down, did I fully realize how I had changed. I had a slightly more muscular build than before. My chest was smooth, virtually hairless, a shade darker than Juri’s faultless complexion. I was circumcised. Knowing Juri as I do now, that didn’t surprise me.
My cock wasn’t as long as I had imagined (perhaps it felt longer), shorter than my extended hand. The shaft was round, thicker than my wrist although somewhat narrower at the base, and the same color as her hard nipples.
She ran her tongue along the sensitive vein of my one-eighty, massaging it slowly as she traversed the length and sucked the head into her hot mouth. My earlier imaginings of the water bottle didn’t compare. I exhaled as my cock reached into the wet recesses of her mouth, sliding inwards, pulsing rhythmically against the back of her throat.
I let her suck, enjoying every pleasing smack of her lips. I played with her hair, touched the bulge in her cheek as she tasted me. That was a perfect moment. One of many.
The sun poured honey light from a cloudless sapphire sky. Not too hot. Perfect. The breeze stirred lazily through the trees, the only sounds were our heated breaths. Then, I reluctantly pulled from her mouth and urged her to recline on the cool grass.
As she lay back, I noticed a pair of sharp pruning shears left on the ground by a worker. With a casual kick, I sent them out of the way to ensure nothing would interrupt this moment.
“You’re wearing too many clothes,”I whispered in her ear.
I pulled her panties off and threw them laughing into the tree, where they hung (very noticeably) on one of the branches over the walkway. Then I went down on her.
Her black pubic hair clustered around the glistening slit in wet ringlets. I parted the engorged folds with my tongue and her aroma broke into my face like a shattered bottle of wine. I sucked the scarlet mound of her clit into my mouth and ran circles around it with the tip of my tongue. In only moments, she arched and came.
I hooked each arm behind her sweaty knees, lifting her anxious pussy towards me and sunk my cock to the balls. I fit exactly as she desired, filled her completely with the length and girth that would satisfy. The head of my cock brushed her cervix with just the right pressure; on the deepest thrusts, my pelvic bone met her clit with the right friction. She was unbelievably tight, gripping me like a hand.
“No one can hear us,” I grunted.
She enjoyed a freedom that she had never allowed herself to experience, screaming with each penetration, groaning with primal passion.
If being naked outdoors was arousing, fucking Juri buck-naked on the lawn of my home-away-from-home was...well, perfect.
She wrapped her moist hands tightly behind my neck and pressed her sexy body against mine. I laid her down on the soft grass. Her lithe legs wrapped around my waist, pulling me closer to settle between her thighs. I almost came just looking at her…
I grabbed her ass and fondled the tightness beneath my hands. I ground my hips against hers and enjoyed the sensation of her wetness against my cock. Her moans grew louder, her nails dug into my back as she clung to me. I could feel her orgasm building, her inner muscles clenching me.
It was an indescribable moment—her taste, her smell, the fragrance of cherry blossoms, my cock deep inside her. I squirted forever, filling her with hot white musk, thrusting until it ran out of her swollen pussy like paint. I came again (that’s something that I can do when it happens that I forgot to tell you about), spilling more into her wet cunt, then, with her agile body still impaled, I fell back and let her grind against me until she came again.
I knew time was short when my cock began to soften. She fell on my chest, giggling like a new lover and rolled off my sweaty body. She stretched out beside me, chest heaving, those lovely breasts quaking, looking up as the warm breeze stirred the branches. Cherry blossoms fell upon us like fresh snow.
At once, I knew she had a million questions for me. I had the same ones, and still have many unanswered. They bubbled forth, like foam on the tide, and I knew that my answers would be neatly, and sadly, forgotten, folded up into the rationale that this was nothing more than an intense wet dream…
I sat up. There was still some time left, so I reached back and traced a sweaty thigh to her crotch with all intentions of fingering her. I felt her move. Glancing at the tree trunk a few feet away, I noticed something was missing.
“Hey! Where are those prun—”
“...”
The FUCK??!!
“Juri? Do you have anything you’d like to ask?”
Juri blinked.
“Juri?”
“Oh, sorry doctor,” she said, obviously flushed. “No, nothing. I have nothing...more.”
She glanced at me. A knowing, devilish look flickered in those beautiful eyes for a moment, as if…
Then…it passed.
“Very well,” What’s-His-Name said. “I guess we’ll be going.”
He stuffed his slate into his brief case and stood to leave. Juri also stood on rubbery legs, suddenly feeling as though she had spent the entire afternoon doing aerobics.
I knew exactly how she felt.
She shot me another fading look and I marveled at how quickly she regained her composure. She had already convinced herself that it was an erotic daydream.
This is not over. We will continue this later, ma belle petite…psycho-bitch.
“What’s this?” the doctor asked.
“Excuse me?” she asked, cleverly holding onto the back of her chair for support.
The doctor reached to her hair and removed a pink cherry blossom. Holding it before her dumbfounded eyes, he said, “I wonder how that got there? I never noticed it when we came in.”
Juri took the blossom, brought it to her nose with a nervous smile, looking somewhat as if she had seen a ghost.
Wait until she sees where her panties are...
