Half Measures
by Jeremy Edwards

I never did learn exactly why Millicent showed up at my place with no pants on at 1:30 in the morning. I had a general idea, of course, of the type of evening out that might have resulted in this scenario. But I still don’t know any of the specific details. I’m delighted to report that Millicent and I see each other quite often. But by the time it crosses my mind that she still owes me the rundown on this incident (among others), we’re always too busy living in the moment for me to interrupt with sentimental reminiscences and pump her for back stories. Not that there isn’t usually some pumping going on – but that’s different.

It had been a quiet Saturday night at home for me, and I was looking forward to hitting the sack and perhaps indulging the autoeroticism habit before nodding off. First choice for me under the covers is always to be part of a dynamic duo; but I don’t mind admitting that I like masturbation, too. And anyway, it happened to be the best proposition I’d had that night.

I wasn’t particularly surprised to hear the knock on the door. I live near the strip of groovy bars, and my friends – some of whom are a little wild – know that I am usually a congenial host, even to spontaneous, inebriated guests, and that if I really don’t want to be bothered, I won’t answer. I had learned, though, to ascertain who it was before opening up. There are some people whom I consider friends by daylight but do not wish to entertain in the wee hours of the morning.

‘Hi. Who is it?’ I asked in my most noncommittal, to-host-or-not-to-host tone.

‘It’s Millicent,’ a voice hissed back in a courteous, don’t-disturb-the-neighbours sort of whisper.

Millicent! This was the best thing that had happened in weeks.

‘Can I come in? I don’t have any pants on.’ And then she laughed, just loud enough for me to hear.

I laughed, too. ‘Now Millicent, you know you don’t have to pretend to be half-undressed to gain entry to any apartment of mine. You’re always welcome, even fully clothed.’

‘I’m not kidding, Stewart.’

‘What? No pants?’

‘No pants.’ She laughed again. ‘Why don’t you open the door and see for yourself?’

Millicent and I were the kind of pair who could turn almost anything into a game. ‘You can’t fool me so easily,’ I reasoned. ‘You’re wearing a skirt, of course.’

‘Nope.’ More giggles. Millicent was obviously enjoying this as much as I was, so I decided to drag it out.

‘A dress?’

‘No.’

‘Shorts?’

‘Nuh-uh.’

‘A swimsuit? A skirt? Culottes?’ My guesses were getting more far-fetched. I wasn’t even sure what culottes were.

‘None of the above,’ she tittered. Her laughter was as beautiful as it was contagious. She didn’t even sound drunk.

‘Commencement robes? A sari? A paisley dressing-gown?’

‘No, no, and no again.’

‘A kilt? A leotard? One of those big ol’ Native American blankets?’

Now she was laughing too hard to say ‘No,’ but it was clear that I was still flunking out.

‘Car-repair coveralls? Scuba gear?’

‘No, Stewart. I’m completely bare-assed.’

‘Oh! Well, why didn’t you say so.’ I opened the door, beaming at her. Millicent scurried in, naked from the waist down and elfin from the neck up, and gave me a quick peck on the cheek.

She stood next to me for an instant, catching her breath after all the laughing. Then, without standing on ceremony, she zipped past me and headed down the hall that led to my bathroom. I noticed how well her long-sleeved coral-pink blouse hugged the petite, elegant contours of her back. Its smoothness led my eyes down to Millicent’s waist, where the silk signed off and creamy, bare flesh took over. I watched the neat little globes of her bottom jiggle purposefully as she receded. Too soon, the dreamy ass wished me au revoir as its owner took a sharp right turn into the john.

One muffled flush later, Millicent re-appeared. On this return trip, I was able to relish a view of her dark, fuzzy nexus, where her sleek legs dovetailed so perfectly. Soon she was with me again.

‘That was a fun guessing-game,’ Millicent said, touching my elbow lightly.

‘I enjoyed it, too.’ I paused before continuing. ‘I also enjoyed watching you move down that hallway. You have a very nice ass, my dear.’

Millicent smiled a mixture of gratitude and mischief. ‘Likewise, I presume.’ She pivoted her head from side to side, as if trying to get a peek around at the back of my jeans.

‘But even better than admiring your bottom as it travels down my hallway is having you back at this end of the corridor,’ I admitted, taking her hand. ‘I guess I’ve been a little lonely tonight.’ It was funny – I hadn’t realized I’d been lonely until I felt the contrast of being with her.

‘I feel lonely, too, in a way, being the only one who’s half-undressed around here,’ she noted.

I had hoped things might go in this direction.

‘No problem,’ I said eagerly. ‘I can take my pants and underwear off, if you like. In fact, based on past experience, I think I can even get completely naked without too much trouble.’

‘Let’s try just naked from the waist down, for now,’ she replied. ‘My friends and family are always complaining that I like to do things by half-measures, after all.’ I had heard this complaint, and I knew that dear Millicent’s life was indeed a landscape of semi-abandoned initiatives. She was the first to admit it, and I admired her for being able to poke fun at herself.

‘Whatever you wish,’ I said gallantly, very glad to be assuming the role of host for this particular late-night guest. ‘But before I shed half my clothes, Little Miss Half-Measures, can I get you half a glass of wine perhaps, or half a cup of coffee?’

‘Yes to the wine,’ she said. ‘I’ll have two half-glasses. But why don’t you take the jeans and shorts off first. I might get bored watching you mess around with the corkscrew, unless I have something else to look at.’

So there we stood in the kitchen a minute later, my dick flapping for Millicent’s entertainment while I wrestled with the wine bottle. She was laughing at the spectacle I provided, but in a manner that flattered me. I could tell I was making her horny. When she stood up to claim her double-half-glass of wine, she gave me a lewd little slap on the butt, and I noticed a minor wet spot on the chair she’d been occupying.

By the time we’d made our way to the living room couch, I had matched Millicent’s wet spot with a classic Saturday-night hard-on. We sat side by side and knee to knee, and I could smell her arousal over the bouquet of the merlot. I reached around and under to fondle her backside. When she moaned appealingly, I decided to leave my hand there. This allowed me to punctuate our chatter and giggles with light, sensuous squeezes, and to send the occasional, lascivious finger into her hind crack.

In a little while, Millicent took my wine glass from me and set it on the table. She then directed my free hand straight into her crotch and carefully guided it into the caresses she craved. All my fingers were now occupied on Millicent’s person – squeezing ass cheeks, tickling butt-crack, tracing paths of pleasure upon and within moist pussy-lips – and my cock began to twitch for attention. Millicent responded promptly, abandoning her own wine and initiating the tenderest strokes my member had ever felt. I rewarded her with my best manly moans.

‘You know,’ she breathed, ‘I’d kind of like to feel you all the way inside me, right now.’

‘Kind of?’ I asked.

‘Okay, not ‘kind of’,’ Millicent confessed. ‘Absolutely and totally and completely.’

And with that, she hopped up, turned her coral-lovely back to me, and let her sweet ass hover briefly over my lap. Then she reached backward, grabbed my thighs for support, and gently lowered herself onto the waiting, throbbing pleasure-stick. My, she was juicy. It was hard to avoid coming immediately as she slid down, letting her soft cunt ingest me as far as I could go. And when I could go no further, she began pounding my upper thighs with her bottom cheeks, dancing wildly to the beat of her inner joys.

I reached around to stroke her breasts, teasing the nipples that poked at me through the silk. I nibbled soft kisses onto the back of her neck as we bounced. I felt my loins and hers melt into a churning, boiling mother-lode of ecstasy. The roaring bliss engulfed us both until we pulsated as one and gave in to the seething sensations that rushed over, around and through my buried member and the dripping, sensuous cunt that clasped it. It was quite possibly the best orgasm I’d ever had. And, judging from Millicent’s urgent, lyrical cries, it must have been a pretty special moment for her as well.

Ripple after ripple of pleasure tickled through us as we held the pose. Finally, our conjoined organs were still, and we rested gently in a motionless hug. ‘So much for half-measures, darling,’ I murmured into Millicent’s fragrant hair.