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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  this sounds 

so corny  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 "

	

	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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