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Pooner Diaries: Shy Girlâ?�

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The door swung open, and I stepped through. I finally saw her face. She was cute. I would have turned for a second look if I had seen her in the street, in the market. Her large brown eyes opened wide as she saw me and she smiled her broad toothy grin, looking as if she was about to burst out in girlish giggles. She looked away as I gave her an appreciative gaze, but the smile remained. Shy, I thought. I introduced myself, said I was glad to meet her. She stood a few feet away and it gave me chance to look her over. Mmm, very nice. It was my turn to show my broad grin, and I swear I imagined seeing her blush in the dim light.

 

She led me onto her sofa, where she sat far away. She was so formal. I smiled. She was cute already, but now the unexpected distance between us was endearing. Well, it was no matter. We were in no rush. We chatted lightly about the too-short Winnipeg summers and about the vagaries of fate that had brought us to this sofa, at this moment.

 

Our conversation petered out quickly. I reached for her hand, small and delicate in my hands, like a tiny bird. I kissed her fingertips, stroked the soft skin on the back of her hand. She smiled, amused. I drew closer, put my hand gently on her cheek and brought her closer for a kiss.

 

Sometimes an eternity can be in a moment, and this was one of those moments. Our lips parted, our tongues lightly dancing over each other's. Her breath was fresh, a spearmint pool that I wanted to dive into face first and immerse myself into. It was time. I stood up and she led me to her bed.

 

We both shucked off our clothes as if they were on fire, then kissed again. This time, it was warm skin to warm skin, soft breasts against my chest. We collapsed onto the bed and she decided to take charge. She gave me a gentle nudge to lie back as she took me into her mouth. I gasped at the sudden warmth and wetness, and my breath grew heavy as she did her magic. I gently stroked the soft pale skin on the small of her back. I was getting close. I stood on the edge of that precipice, peering down into it, longing to swan-dive in to the inky depths. But she brought me close, pulled me back and brought be closer still, again and again.

 

My head was still reeling when she looked up and climbed on top. Her shyness was gone, and I saw the predatory glitter in her eyes. She had me right where she wanted me, now. She straddled my hips in one smooth motion and in an instant I was inside her, her hair spilling over my face. Her lips were parted, showing her straight white teeth as she started to pant. Her eyes were closed as she started to thrust. I was her dream lover now, and I could feel her hot breath bare inches away from my own mouth. I took her hips in my hands and we settled into an easy lope. I watched her face, those full sensuous lips, those high cheekbones, as her expression drifted between a blissful smile and exquisite agony.

 

Our bodies grew warm and sweaty, wrapping us up in the thinnest of cloaks with our shared dampness. She froze with a sharp intake of her breath, her brow knitting, her body tensing. A few more thrusts, and it was my turn now. My eyes closed as I followed her into bliss, white stars exploding behind clenched eyelids. It was the sweetest of releases, with this intimate stranger.

 

I opened my eyes and she was suddenly shy again, not quite meeting my gaze.

 

"Is everything OK?" I managed out between pants.

 

"Oh yeah. Everything's great!" Her toothy grin returned, her still flushed face revealing all. Good. She settled easily into the crook of my arm, her face away from me. We spooned and though we couldn't see each other's faces, the warmth of our bodies, the closeness of our embrace said it all for us.

 

I've known other shy women in this world, to be sure. In fact, it had happened so many times that I've referred to them as ladies who chose to speak through their craft. But these ladies were a cipher, an unknowable riddle that I knew I would never solve. Nor did I really want to. But this one was different. Her touch echoed mine. Her flesh felt as if it were my flesh, we spoke through our touch, our kisses. We had moved in time. In tune. As one.

 

She intrigued me now, this shy woman. She had piqued my curiosity. I wanted to make her comfortable with me, to draw her from her shell. Our bodies spoke of the chemistry between us, and for that alone I could quickly grow to enjoy coming here. But I also saw intelligence behind those big brown eyes as we talked, and of course, I had been tipped off earlier by a glance at the book titles on the shelf just out of view.

 

I had no idea whether she would let me solve her mysteries. But I saw the curiosity as well in her eyes as well about the tale-weaver, the feathered conundrum on her bed. Perhaps we could yet explore. Perhaps we could explore together.

 

But my time was up, and I had to go. I wouldn't get to draw her out, discover the person behind the bashful smile. I looked at her wistfully as I got up from the bed and started to get dressed. For I knew I was going to dream later of her thrusting over me, hot breath on my face, electric tension as we drew close.

 

No, I wouldn't find out any more about my shy beauty. At least, this time.

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Hard to decide which is the more intriguing here. The tale or the writer of the tale.

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The closeness of our embrace said it all for us. Oh yes, that was another one of our moments that we will both never forget. I am the shy beauty, the chemistry is and was unspoken of. And indeed, we are in no rush. You were like a tiny bird, as you amused me and enticed me with charm.

What an eternity, the experience we both had...

As shy as my demeaner is, taking charge felt great. The precipice while we thrusted into the inky depth of my being, over and over again was inconceivable. Our magic.

My shyness was now gone, having my Birdboy right where he was, right where I wanted him. My dream lover.

Oh, the exquisiteness!

Being in tune as one best describes our familiarity.

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