Jane and I go back some years. When my wife first started riding, Jane had her horse in the same stables. Over the years things changed but Jane and my wife tended to go to the same events, and for a while Jane provided transport for my wife’s horse as well as her own.
Let me describe Jane. She is about my height and is slim built with firm B-cup perky breasts and a neat waistline above the tightest pair of firm round buttocks and incredibly long legs. But despite that description of any man’s dream it is her facial features that most attract me. She has an elfin look with high cheekbones, a firm jaw and large expressive lips. Her hair, brunette, is sometimes worn long, but I prefer when she wears it short, brushed in on each side of her face, very modern and chic. But her biggest asset is her unbridled energy and enthusiasm, her zest for life, which envelops all who meet her. And like many such women, she loves to be the focus of attraction to men and is at her most enticing when flirting outrageously.
She is married to Frank, though he is one of those husbands who does not seem to appreciate his luck and spends most of his free time on the golf course and never accompanies Jane to any of her horse activities. He appears to be quite oblivious to her charms and to the fact that other men absolutely adore her. my wife and I went to dinner at their house once, and I remember towards the end of the evening Frank saying that Jane had three interests in life: food, horses and sex. He said this as though he couldn’t understand why anyone would be interested in any of these (he was a bore on his Atkins diet). Jane retorted with some remark about his only being interested in golf, said in such a way as to suggest that he had no interest in sex at all. As my wife is not greatly interested in sex, I half suspected this little charade had been staged for my benefit by Jane, and I tucked away this information for future use.
I have some clear images of Jane, in the stable yard in voluminous overalls that left all appreciation of the body within to the imagination but equally left me wondering what if anything she wore beneath the shapeless garment. She has a way of making the least glamorous garb seem sexy and suggestive. I remember her dressed for a competition, a crisp white blouse clearly outlining her firm pert breasts, her cream jodhpurs skin tight round her buttocks, no panty line visible, tight over her flat belly rising just slightly towards her mons and subtly outlining her sex lips before clinging to her slender but muscular thighs above her black polished leather riding boots. And I remember her too in more casual garb, a sweatshirt hugging her breasts and the tightest pair of fashion jeans, hugging her long slender legs and at least a two inch gap where her upper thighs met her crotch, again the fabric hugging her sex lips, enough to drive any observant red blooded male to distraction. But I am sure it was no accident and she dressed to present her charms to men in a subtle and stylish way, as part of her constantly flirtatious nature.
I suppose she is in her late 30s or perhaps even early 40s, though she could easily pass for much younger. She has a teenage daughter, though her body shows none of the ravages of motherhood that beset so many women. She works in marketing and we shared over the years the ups and downs of corporate office life, commiserating with one another and sharing our triumphs. We generally got on very well, and I have noticed that she always greeted me first and my wife only as an afterthought, and spent longer chatting to me than to my wife who was generally busy about the horse. She flirted with me a great deal, I always encouraged her, and I was always pleased to see her.
But I then heard that she had given up her interest in horses and unsubstantiated rumours she had split from Frank, and for about a year I never saw her, except one day across a garden centre café where I was with my wife and she was with a female friend.
And then one afternoon in the city centre I bumped into her. She wore those jeans and a smart little jacket over a loose blouse, with the top couple of buttons undone. She inevitably gave me a big grin and greeted me as a long lost dear friend
“Hi, long time no see, its lovely to bump into you again after all this time. How’s things? How’s your job, are they keeping you busy? You’re looking well, but then you always did look great. How’s your wife and the horse? I hear they have been winning competitions recently?”
Noting she had played up to me before mentioning my wife which was par for the course, I laughed and replied
“Hey, easy up there, that’s a lot of questions. And just look at you, you’re looking more gorgeous than ever, you sexy temptress! How are you doing? Do you fancy a coffee and a chat?”
I wasn’t about to let her slip from my clutches again.
“Yes, that would be great. I’ve got the afternoon off, so if you’ve got time in your busy schedule, super.”
“For you I make time” I replied and she laughed easily. I suggested a rooftop café overlooking the Castle and we got ourselves a quiet corner table and ordered coffee and muffins. She sat with her back to the rest of the café so I had her full attention. She held my eye as she removed her jacket, and the twinkle hinted at the significance of disrobing. Her blouse was sexily suggestive rather than revealing, the open buttons showing her long neck and throat, a promise of other delights to unveil.
“So had you heard that I’d given up the horse?” she said when our coffee arrived. She leant forward to pour cream into her cup and for a brief but I felt sure calculated instant the neck of her blouse dropped forward and I glimpsed the fullness of her breasts as she moved. I couldn’t make up my mind whether she wore a bra or they were au naturale. She smiled and I knew she was playing with me again.
“Yes, I had heard” I said, adding “For someone whose three interests according to Frank were food, the horse and sex, without the horse and with your delightfully slender figure which suggests that food is not on your mind all day long, it sounds to me like you might be having an interesting life. Speaking of which how is Frank?”
She laughed with me and apparently subconsciously undid another button on the blouse. As she faced away from the rest of the café, only I could appreciate what she was doing.
“Oh, had you heard that Frank and I have separated? He was only interested in his golf and with his Atkins diet he was boring on the food front too. And how I wish life was really interesting on the sex front. If only life could be pleasure all day long. But of course when Frank said sex was one of my three interests he was really complaining that I had a greater and wider interest in such matters than he had. He was my first real boyfriend you know and we got married young, but sex was pretty mechanical and after our daughter was born he lost interest. I have been faithful to him through our marriage even though it has been very frustrating. But I have always been very curious and although my experience is very middle class and limited I yearn to stretch my wings and really fly sometimes. I suppose my capacity for fantasising is highly developed and I would describe myself as broad-minded. But I have never been with anyone but Frank and it’s a bit scary to think of going with someone new and perhaps experimenting and broadening my experience. I got really fed up with him and with nothing else in common we parted now that our daughter Pamela is 16. I now have a small flat in the village and he has kept the house. But I don’t exactly have a queue of admirers waiting to stoke the flames of passion.”
This last was said with a cheeky grin and she held my look a few seconds longer than necessary to convey to me her unspoken message. She leant forward again to pick up her coffee cup, and this time there was no doubt, her breasts were gloriously unsupported. I made sure she noticed my look linger on her cleavage before with a mutually conspiratorial smile, we continued.
“But what about you and your wife?” she asked.
It was now or never.
“Well its strangely much the same story. I am afraid my wife is interested in horses and the garden and very little else. In over 10 years together our intimacies amount to giving my wife foot and back massage to ease her aches and pains but I have to say, as you have been so honest with me, that I can do no more than the occasional cuddle, or a brief caress of her breasts before being brushed away and she has resolutely never allowed any contact below the waist beyond one or two reluctant attempts at intercourse before we were married. And she has never attempted to satisfy my needs as you might expect a dutiful wife to. Even if intercourse is difficult for her in some way she is unwilling to explain, I have a “good Scots tongue in my head” and I am broadminded enough to give and take pleasure in other ways. But she is just not interested. And like you I don’t have much actual experience. For reasons of a strict upbringing and lack of confidence I was 32 before I met someone I could be completely uninhibited with sexually and over a year I had the time of my life. That ended somewhat abruptly and tragically and I returned, like you, to a well developed fantasy existence. There were brief interludes with other girlfriends but always younger women who did not want a long term relationship. I experimented in other ways, and with the help of the written word, video, and eventually the internet, built up a wide repertoire of self satisfying sexual fantasy scenarios.
“Oh, we make a right pair” she giggled and again leant forward and held my hand for a moment. The gaping of her blouse and stretch of her arm exposed one perky nipple this time and she looked me straight in the eye and gave a sensuous knowing smile.
“I always looked forward to taking you and your wife to horse events for I could see you and have a sensible adult conversation with you. And a girl can sense when a man fancies her and I always enjoyed flirting with you. Back then I was really quite safe in knowing nothing would come of it, and it was fun without complications. But now it could be different. You do fancy me don’t you? And even if I have left Frank I would be happy to see more of you without you and your wife splitting up for I think she truly needs you as her rock.”
We held hands, and that nipple continued to catch my eye.
“You know fine well I do” I replied. “The question is do you really fancy me? I can understand any man wanting to get intimate with you but why would anyone as gorgeous as you want to seduce me, 20 years your senior?”
“Because you are old enough and mature enough to know how to handle a woman. You’re not going to give me a ‘wham, bam, thank you ma’am’ type of here today gone tomorrow experience. That good Scots tongue sounds like something I could make a lot of use of for starters. I also sense you just like women, and from what you have said you and I have for too long satisfied ourselves. Even if we were to satisfy each other at that masturbatory level that would for me be sheer heaven. I could trust you to have fun without getting complicated. I also suspect you have built up a wealth of fantasy scenarios that would be fun to hear about and maybe even take part in with you. But of course I am assuming a great deal here. I am separated, you are married. I have no right to expect you to cheat on your wife.”
“My wife once said to me ‘if you want to pursue all this sex stuff then sort it out yourself and leave me out of it’. I have interpreted that as ‘go masturbate’, but it could be interpreted as ‘go get a mistress’ so long as that does not impose on our marriage otherwise.”
“The latter interpretation sounds just fine to me” she said, holding my gaze. “I am enjoying my freedom after years of stale marriage, and I don’t want to get involved with anyone who is going to want long term commitment from me. To have an understanding that you and I could satisfy our mutual needs from time to time would suit me very well.”
She almost absent-mindedly undid another button on the blouse and leant forward again. I was quietly grateful she was sitting where she was, as otherwise half the café could have seen what she was up to. As it was, the blouse gaped open almost to her waist and I was rewarded with a clear view of both delightful breasts, tipped with firm stalky nipples, fully erect with I presume the eroticism of exposing herself in this way.
“And I think you like what you see, do you not? Enough to want to see more soon?”
“You know the answer to that or you wouldn’t be exposing yourself so admirably to me. I shall treasure this taster and be assured, I shall be up for more very soon, given the opportunity.”
“Well we could meet in my flat but that might become obvious in a small village, and your wife and I have too many mutual acquaintances. If your car was seen outside my flat that might really be a dead giveaway. I have one or two other ideas. I’ll get back to you on those. I am really looking forward to getting together with you, just the two of us alone.”
“May I suggest we communicate by e-mail” I said. “I could also warm you up through e-mail and introduce you to some other ideas. Remember sex exists as much in the mind as in the body.”
I then gave her one of my e-mail aliases, and she gave me hers. We arranged to make contact soon and take it from there.
She quietly buttoned up her blouse with a cheeky grin, and we went for the lift back to street level. As luck would have it we were on our own, and she melted into my arms and our lips met. Her lips are generous and as she kissed open mouthed our tongues touched and explored, and I felt like a teenager again, kissing my first girlfriend. Her breasts pressed gently against my chest, but the lift reached the ground floor too soon for me to really savour the soft moulding of her body to mine. We left the building and to mutual “Ciao’s” and a pair of grins like the cats that ate the cream we went our separate ways.
Jane phoned the next week. She sounded excited.
“A friend of mine has had to go off for a couple of weeks abroad and asked me if I would look after her flat. I hope you don’t mind but I had been dropping hints about having met this gorgeous man, and my friend actually said if we wanted to rendezvous there that would be OK with her. What do you think?”
“I hope you’re standing in her flat naked and it’s just round the corner from where I am now” I replied laughing.
“Oh, naughty” she replied, “but it is an idea”.
Without further ado we arranged to meet there the next afternoon, both taking an afternoon off our work. She gave me the address and it was in a part of town I could easily get to but did not know anyone, which was good.
I rang the bell at the flats entrance and she told me to come up to flat 3. I tried not to run up the stair, and when I got there, the flat door was ajar. She was half standing behind the door, just her head looking round, that mischievous smile on her full lips. I paused to kiss her, just a peck on the lips, but even that was so cool, so expressive of the afternoon to come. My first impression of her was of a gentle but seductive perfume, unlike the cloying choking fug of the salesgirls in the perfumeries in town. As she shut the door behind me and stepped out from behind it, I had my first full length sight of her. She wore a long wrapover skirt in a bright floral pattern, reaching down to her ankles, her feet bare on the carpeted hallway. At her waist was a macramé belt through hoops in the skirt, with a buckle at the front. But above her waist she wore a peach coloured blouse, whose only front fastening appeared to be the tie-over formed of the lower halves of each side of her blouse. She clearly had no bra on beneath it, and not only was the neckline above the tie-over revealing, but I could see the shape of her small firm breasts through the material of the blouse, and particularly her nipples thrusting against the thin white cotton, indicating her excitement and anticipation. I guessed she had changed here when she arrived from work, and dressed to make a suitably erotic impression.
“I feel decidedly over-dressed” I said, grinning at her. “Should I take my shoes and socks off too for fear of leaving footprints on the shag-pile?”
I didn’t wait for an answer and as she stood and watched, I removed them, and my suit jacket which she took from me and hung up in the cloakroom. When she returned I had taken my tie off and opened my shirt collar and felt more at ease.
Without a word we moved into an embrace, Jane pressing herself against me, my hands going round her shoulders, and with her hands she gently took my face and pulled my lips back down to meet hers. This time it was no fleeting peck. As our lips met, we spent a moment or two just brushing lip to lip, sensing the cool flesh, our eyes meeting before gently closing as we began to explore the kiss, increasing the pressure of our lips against one another, then opening our lips slightly and letting my tongue pass over her lips, before withdrawing and feeling the moistness of her tongue on my lips. As we kissed, I allowed my hands to softly massage her shoulders and onto her shoulder blades, pulling her closer, feeling her breasts against my chest through the material of our shirt and blouse, and knowing that inexorably and simultaneously our tongues would now touch, and lips to lips, tongue to tongue, we began to really savour the kiss. We started duelling tongues, first one then the other probing, till she gave in and let me slide my tongue under hers and into her mouth. I ran my tongue round her teeth and the soft inner flesh of her mouth before she took the offensive again and I delighted in the tickling of her tongue running round the sensitive flesh inside my mouth. Her hands had now left my head as we were held closely together by my arms round her back, and she eased slightly away from me and started to unbutton my shirt. I let my hands run down the back of her blouse as she did this, feeling her spine and the smooth muscles of her back as I did so, until I grasped the bare skin at the back of her waist beneath the tied waist of her blouse.
We broke the kiss for air, and she looked up at me and laughed, and pecked me again as she finished unbuttoning my shirt and pulled it off. As I looked down at her I could see the very finest hairs on her neck and the almost velvet texture of her facial complexion, and I marvelled at her sheer beauty. She now placed her hands on my bare chest on my collarbone and slowly ran them down over my pectorals onto my nipples. I kissed her forehead and her eyes as her fingers teased my nipples, circling them with her fingernails, then tenderly tweaking them, fully aware that they were growing erect beneath her touch.
My hands on her waist came round from her back to the tie-over at the front of her blouse, and I paused for a moment to allow her to control the situation if she wanted to. She looked up at me and half closed her eyes in an expression of desire. I needed no further confirmation before slipping the blouse knot, opening the front of her blouse and slipping it off her body. Beneath her blouse off course she was naked, her breasts as pert as I had remembered from her previous cheeky display and her nipples, dusky pink and standing proud like small thimbles surrounded by soft pink areolae. We were of course still standing in the hall, and she now stood back to register my admiring gaze before taking my hand and leading me up the hallway and into another room. There was a large sofa in this room with a small table on which she had placed two glasses of wine.
“Sit down” she said, and as I did so, she picked up both glasses and gave me one before sitting down sideways across my lap. We clinked glasses and wished each other a long and exciting affair before sipping the wine. She again bent to kiss me and this time we savoured the wine on each other’s lips and on our tongues. My left hand was round her waist on her bare flesh, and I played up and down the lower part of her spine with my fingertips. She laid down her wine glass before taking mine and laying it down too. Now we both had our hands free.
I kept my left arm round the back of her waist, and leant in to kiss her neck. Her neck was long and slender, and I allowed my lips to travel up and down from her shoulder to her earlobe, before using my tongue to lick her earlobe and then slowly round her ear proper, probing the inner folds and lightly blowing my breath into her ear cavity. While I was doing this I brought my right hand up onto her left breast and used my thumb and forefinger to gauge the fullness and firmness of her flesh, noting that there was no sag onto her chest, her breast standing proud on her chest like that of a young girl.
She was torn between simply sitting there and enjoying the attention, and being active herself, but she had one arm round my shoulders and with her free left hand she mussed my hair and then mimicked my lip service to her ears by running the very tip of her pinkie into my ear. The feeling was more erotic than you could ever imagine. She then pushed me back and I lifted my head from her ear, and again our lips met in a passionate and long kiss. We helped ourselves to another sip of wine then with it still in our mouths kissed open lipped and tasted the swilling wine between us. When we broke the kiss, I moved my lips to her lower neck and slowly, teasingly moved them down towards her breast. With my hand still cupping her breast, I lifted it and without yet touching her nipple offered it to my lips. I let my lips just brush over the erect nipple at first, then introduced my tongue to lick tantalisingly around the areolae before flicking her nipple with my tongue. I felt her breathing quicken and she let out a contented sigh before using both her hands to hold the back of my head against her, not letting me budge from her breasts even had I wanted to do so. Of course I was happy as a sandboy and after flicking the nipple, I took it wholly between my lips, and let my tongue caress the tip, before opening my mouth further to take in the fuller flesh of the breast, my lips suctioning the tender cone while my tongue still lapped over and around the sensitive nipple. She moved slightly and I took the hint and repeated this sequence of oral stimulation on her other breast.
She was still holding my head but my hands were free and I decided to roam further. I placed one hand on her knee over the material of the long patterned skirt. Without much difficulty and I suspect a little help from Jane, I found the wrapover divide and slipped my hand between the two layers of cloth. It was then fairly easy to separate them so that below her knees they parted and fell away, leaving her bare lower legs exposed. I could not see any of this, merely feel it. With my hand on her knee, I sensed her move her legs slightly apart. I contented myself with stroking around her knee and the inside of her leg just above her knee as I continued to nuzzle her breasts. After a few minutes of this, she let go my head and stretched for the wine again. I left her knee and also sipped my wine for a few moments.
“I needed a break,” she said, “or I think I would have come there and then. And I want to postpone that pleasure a while longer. You’re such a patient lover, it’s too good to spoil by rushing it.”
She put down her glass and got of my lap. That exposed the fact that I had got aroused by our petting and my trousers were rather tented. She looked meaningfully and said, “Come on, lets move on to the bedroom”.
I stood up and arms around one another’s waists we left the lounge and she led the way to the bedroom. Once in, with a king size bed in the centre of the room, she turned towards me and moved in to kiss me once again, but as I took both her firm breasts in my hands again, gently flicking her tumescent nipples with my thumbs, she started to unfasten the belt on my trousers and then undo my fly before pushing them down and I obliged by stepping out of them and kicking them off to the side. I now wore only my y-fronts. Jane now very subtly ran her finger nails up and down the front of my briefs over my erect penis which was an exquisite sensation.
I decided that the balance had to be restored, so I moved my hands from her breasts to her macramé belt and undid the buckle and pulled the belt off through the loops in her skirt. A single button held the wrapover together, and I quickly undid it to let the skirt slide gracefully to the floor. We were still kissing and I resisted the temptation to look, but instead slipped my hands round to the back of her waist again, expecting as I dropped my fingers over her hips to feel the top of panties or a thong. But I found nothing but bare flesh as my hands moved down onto her rising buttocks, and my hesitation caused her to break the kiss and giggle. Before she said anything she gripped the waist of my briefs and carefully so as not to get caught on my erection, slipped them down and off. We were now both naked. Like teenagers on a first date, we stood back to look at each other. She was absolutely gorgeous, everything I had ever imagined or fantasised about and more.
Her long slim neck ended in pronounced collarbones before flowing out to her aroused breasts with their engorged dark nipples. Below her breasts her waist was neat without an extra ounce of flesh, with a delicate little belly button that I looked forward to visiting later. Her belly, flat as a schoolgirl, then dipped to the join of her thighs, upon which there was no trace of public hair whatever. She was completely shaved and stood now unashamedly relaxed, her thighs slightly parted, and her sex lips clearly visible, puffy with arousal, and I fancied just a trifle moist. Her thighs were slender and her legs longer than I had even imagined, with petite dancer’s feet. Her arms too were slender and well proportioned. She smiled as she saw my assessment of her nudity, and slowly turned till her back view was towards me. Again her legs were slightly apart, but it was her buttocks that now attracted my attention. The muscles were tight and firm as you would expect from a horsewoman, rising markedly from the top of her pelvic bone and rolling deeply in at the top of her thighs. The calf muscles on the back of her legs were equally well developed and firm. If I didn’t know of her horsemanship, I would have put her as a ballerina.
Now as she stood with her back to me she raised her arms and put her hands behind her head with her elbows thrust back and out. Her submission to me was obvious and the next move was up to me. I walked up behind her, and firstly lifted her hair where it was closely cut at the base of her skull. The back of her neck had very fine closely shaven hairs and I ran the fingers of one hand back and forth through these while kissing the side of her neck. With my other hand I caressed her buttock from the dimple at the top where her buttocks came together down over the gluteal muscle, then up her crease, before repeating the caress on the other buttock. She gasped openly, and I quickly slipped both hands round her sides to hold her breasts again, one in each hand. As I did this I continued kissing the back of her neck, but I now moved my body forward just enough to let my penis make contact with her body, laying it against the crease of her buttocks. With my hands and fingers now exerting more pressure on her breasts and nipples, I started to bite very gently along her shoulders and the top of her back, as she pushed her buttocks back to increase the contact with my penis. I did not want to be too rough with her breasts but I took her nipples between forefingers and thumbs and pulled them out, holding that for a moment or two before releasing the tension again. She gasped again, but the wriggle of her buttocks showed it was a gasp of arousal and desire. I now moved my hands down from her breasts across her midriff and her navel to her belly. The delicate scent of her no doubt expensive perfume was now complemented by another scent, that of female lust, that musky aroma of pheromones that is a dead giveaway to the male of the species. I trailed my fingers across her bald pudenda, and dropped to kneeling position behind her as I avoided any direct sexual contact for the moment, but caressed the top of her thighs. She again showed her submission by voluntarily spreading her legs and I took advantage by fingering the sensitive skin at the top of her inner thighs. From my position I now had a perfect view between her thighs and I knew it was only a matter of moments before I had to move in there and assuage her desire.
She must have read my thoughts because she lowered her arms and turned round. She moved to drop to a kneeling position too, and indicated I should stand. Of course this brought my penis and testicles to her face level, and she reached out with both hands as I stood, now in eager anticipation of her stimulation of me. With one hand she delicately placed her fingers and thumb around my throbbing stem and gentle began to rub up and down, and with the other hand she cupped my scrotum and tickled around the full and sensitive sac. She smiled up at me as she felt the rock hard tissue of my lust for her, then dipped her head back down and put her lips around the helmet, pulling the foreskin back as she did so. With her lips engulfing the swollen head, I could now feel her tongue darting out to lick the very tip of my penis where no doubt I was already leaking some Cowper’s gland fluid. Her tongue probed the opening at the head of my penis as her lips began to move up and down in rhythm with her hand, so that the skin around my penis was being fractioned smoothly up by her hand and down by her lips against the myriad of nerve endings which were conveying all the most delicious sexual messages to my brain. My scrotum I am sure was taut as she continued to tickle there too, and she gradually worked up her tempo till I knew if she didn’t stop soon I would pass the point of no return. The feeling in my prostate at the base of my scrotum was becoming more and more intense, and I knew I was building to orgasm. I touched her head, and said,
“Jane, darling, you will bring me off in a moment if you don’t stop. I want to give you some of these sensations too before we get round to giving each other the ultimate pleasures.”
She slowly disengaged and looked up at me with a grin of satisfaction. I helped her stand then pushed her gently back to sit on the edge of the bed. I stooped to kiss her lips again, opening them with my tongue and tasting my own salty arousal. Then I slowly laid her upper body back on the bed before lifting her feet and placing them too on the edge of the bed but as far apart as I could stretch her. She understood what I wanted and adjusted her position to make herself comfortable, feet flat on the bed, but widely parted, the essence of her sexual femininity now fully exposed before my admiring gaze. She watched my eye and smiled as if in triumph at bringing us to this complete selfless giving to one another.
I kneeled again and lifted one foot at a time, rubbing the ball of her foot with my fingers and taking one toe at a time between my lips, letting my tongue play around it. She sighed with pleasure and relaxed, at first her hands by her sides but then moving up to play softly around her own breasts. I let my hands then roam up her calves to her knees, followed by my lips, then let my hands travel over the outside of her thighs to her buttocks which I lifted slightly to raise her open crotch towards my lips. I started with my lips on her tender inner thighs where they met her crotch, and brushed her flesh from there over her sex lips, flushed, engorged and with a moist vaginal opening beckoning me in, to let my lips brush up and over the hood of her clitoris. Her breathing was now definitely deepening, and she was helping my hands under her buttocks by lifting herself and pushing her sex into my face. After a moment of brushing her with my lips, I opened them and stuck my tongue into the folds of her hooded clitoris. The flaps of skin quickly curled back to reveal a firm erect clitoris perhaps the size of the tip of her little finger. My tongue probed and pushed the malleable flesh to and fro, and her heavy breathing turned to gasps then squeals, and I was aware she was grasping and pulling at her nipples in an effort to divert the excitement from her clitoris around her body. I left her clitoris to give her a chance to plateau rather than go over the peak at this stage, and turned my attention to her sex lips and vagina. Again I used my lips and tongue to open them up and explore the inner sanctum licking avidly at her labia minora and darting my tongue in and out of her vagina itself. Her sexual lubricating juices tasted sweet and musky in a heady aroma that was intoxicating and I sensed that she was again pulling and twisting at her breasts and nipples and fighting the urge to go over the top into orgasm. Again I eased off but as she was now thrusting her hips up I took my hands from under her, and placed one thumb on her clitoris, and used the fingers of both hands to really open up her labia. Her juices were flowing now and I licked and sucked at the exposed flesh while rubbing back and forth tenderly on her clitoris with my thumb. Again she started gasping and squealing, and this time I moved my thumb, replacing it with my lips over her erect little soldier, and placed both thumbs into the mouth of her gaping vaginal orifice. Manipulating the inner flesh of her vagina with my fingers and thumbs and with my lips round her clitoris I felt her squeals mount towards screams of pleasure and slipped my teeth over her clitoris, not biting it but rubbing round it so she could feel the firmness. My tongue also worked around the clitoris and with a final scream and a panting of short breaths she hit orgasm. I kept up the pressure on her sex and clitoris and let her roll on through her orgasm, not letting her just peak and die away. When I judged that she was getting exhausted by it, I eased away and crawled up her body to kiss her tenderly. This brought my harder than ever penis against her sex and I eased the tip firstly against her tortured clitoris, then laid it against her sweat covered belly as we kissed long and hard.
After a few minutes she parted from our kiss and with a surge of hidden strength rolled me over so she was now on top. She slithered down my body as I now lay on my back across the bed, and realising what she was about I brought my feet up onto the bed and spread them wide apart. My erection was now the focal point, and as she dropped to a kneeling position between my legs, she took up where she had left off and now in earnest caressed my penis, rolling the flesh up and down, tickling my testicles before moving in to lick them with her tongue, a superbly exquisite sensation. Masturbating me with her tongue on my scrotum, I could feel my semen gathering, and she too must have sensed it, for she moved her lips up to once again encircle my helmet, and have her tongue dart in and out of my moist crease. And then as I mounted inexorably towards a powerful orgasm, she brought one thumb on to my prostate at the very base of my scrotum, and I leaped as my orgasm was pitched into action by that simple trigger. She kept her mouth firmly over my penis as pulse after pulse of orgasmic release forced my semen down her throat. When I at last subsided and came back to reality, she licked around my penis, then moved up to kiss me deeply and let me taste my own cum on her lips and in her mouth. At that point we were truly the only two people in the world and completely absorbed in one another.