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ans and then begin to stroke me.
I snatched at the buttons of her blouse. It was wispy shimmering fabric that seemed to drift open like a curtain, revealing the bulging swell of firm milky cleavage. I let the garment fall to the ground and unsnapped the clasp of her bra.
Connie’s breasts were large – almost too large for the petite narrow frame of her body. I cupped the fleshy weight of one into the palm of my hand and lowered my mouth onto her nipple.
“Oh, I love that,” Connie groaned through clenched teeth. I felt her grip on my cock tighten to a squeeze and then become a flurry of quick teasing strokes.
Somehow she got one of her hands to the nape of my neck, holding my mouth fiercely against her breast and arching her back at the same time as if to thrust herself into my mouth. My lips plucked at the rosy pink nub of her, drawing and tugging and teasing so that she gasped and writhed within my arms.
“The bed,” she moaned. “I can’t wait any longer.”
Without breaking free from each other we fell onto the bed in a tangle of clinging arms. Connie rolled onto her back and I moved myself on top of her. Her legs fell wide open and I covered her throat and neck with kisses.
My jeans fell away, Connie’s skirt was bunched up around her hips. I felt the press of my cock jutting between her thighs and then the sensation of sudden slick dampness as I brushed against her sex.
Connie went suddenly rigid, and I held myself poised there on the brink for several seconds. My cock was pulsing and Connie held her legs tensed and flexed. I raised myself up onto my elbows, braced above her with our torsos pressed together and stared down into her eyes.
“Take me,” she whispered.
I tilted my hips and the swollen head of me pushed itself just an inch or two inside Connie’s pussy.
She was seized in a sudden rictus of sensations. Her breath choked in the back of her throat and I saw her eyes fly wide in astonishment. She grunted at last as I held myself at the breach of her depths, letting her body become accustomed. For long moments neither of us moved. I felt Connie’s fingertips play across my hips, fluttering as though trying to grip at my flesh. I felt the sudden flood of her arousal and I pushed myself more deeply inside, watching the gentle rock and sway of her breasts as she lay like a sacrifice beneath me.
Connie trapped her bottom lip between her teeth. She closed her eyes, lost in concentration. I sank deeper into her pussy and then paused once more as my cock reflexively began to throb and the sheath of Connie’s sex gripped and rippled around me.
“More?” I asked gently.
Connie nodded her head. “Yes,” she gasped.
I filled her with one long slow final thrust. Connie heaved herself up and threw her arms around my neck so that my elbows collapsed and my chest pressed against her breasts. She kissed me with a sudden maddened desire and then hooked her ankles over the backs of my legs so that our bodies were wrapped together in the timeless rhythm of intimacy.
We rocked together in the gentle deliberate rhythm of a boat on a calm sea, riding the long rolling swells as our passions ebbed and flowed. Connie felt delicate and fragile beneath me, and yet her body moved with a hunger and a lust that more than matched my own. She was veracious. She thrust her tongue into my mouth and dug her fingers into my butt, as if to draw me more deeply inside her.
I buried my face in the crook of her neck, hearing the soft whimpering sounds of her pleasure, and then kissed the soft pale flesh of her throat as our bodies drove themselves remorselessly on and on. There was a glisten of perspiration on Connie’s brow and across her chest. As the heat from our bodies seemed to fuse our flesh together, she cried out suddenly and then her head thrashed on the pillow as she reached the brink of an orgasm and plummeted over the precipice.
I held myself perfectly still, my cock deep and tight inside her as Connie’s body shuddered and spasmed and her hips thrust back at me as if she hungered for more. Ragged pants of breath exploded across her lips and the sudden pleasure of her release spilled across her face.
Silence.
Uncertain hectic breathing.
I rolled carefully off Connie and lay beside her. I put a tender hand over her heart and felt the racing thump of it as though it might burst from the cage of her chest. There was a crimson flush of color across her chest. Her eyes flickered, hazed and misty with distance. Her legs were splayed and limp. She had one hand pressed down on the mound of her sex as though something had changed there within her. I drew the tip of my finger in a slow searching line down across her abdomen towards where her hand rested.
“Are you okay?” I asked softly.
Connie nodded and there was a soft hum in the back of her throat before she spoke. “You made me come,” she said as though it was a source of astonishment and wonder to her.
I smiled lazily. “That was the idea.”
She smiled despite herself but then shook her head as though I didn’t understand. “You don’t understand,” she said. “I’ve never…”
“Never?”
“Never,” she said. “Not with a man. Only when I have been alone.”
I looked suddenly surprised. “Never?” I had to ask again.
“You’re the first.”
I rolled onto my back. My cock jutted upright, thrusting at the ceiling. I felt Connie’s hand creep across my thigh, her fingertips feeling like the soft tingling touch of spider’s legs. “I need to find a way to pay you back,” she smiled coyly.
“I can think of several,” I grinned. She raised herself up onto her hands and knees and moved her body until her mouth was poised and open over the twitching head of my cock. I could feel the hot breeze of her breath. Connie licked her lips and gave me one last lingering sultry gaze before taking me into the moist embrace of her mouth.
She had no rhythm. Connie glided her lips up and down the slick glistening length of my shaft but the movement of her head was erratic and without any steady pace. At first I thought her inexperienced, but as the tingling sensations along the length of my shaft and deep inside me began to rise, I began to appreciate the immense skill she exerted. I found myself anticipating the next plunge of her mouth. I found myself tensing and lifting my hips from the bed, trying to keep the grip of her lips around my shaft. I felt my fists grip the edge of the bed and I clenched my jaw until my teeth began to ache. Connie played me like an instrument in the hands of a virtuoso. I felt the flickering sensation of pleasure suddenly ignite into a fire of exquisite painful expectation.
She wrapped her delicate fingers around the base of my cock and blew hot breath across my shaft like she was trying to extinguish a fire. “You like that?” she crooned.
“You’re killing me,” I grunted. “I’m close…”
A slow lazy smile of pleasure spread across Connie’s face. She licked her lips lasciviously as though enjoying the taste of me. “Would you like to come?”
I grunted again and felt my toes curl, flexing the muscles in my calves and in my thighs. “Inside you,” I said. “I want to come inside you.”
Connie rolled onto her side, facing away from me and I rolled over so that we were spooned together. I wrapped my arm around her waist and reached up to cup her breast. Connie lifted her upper leg and then reached down between us and pressed the throbbing crown of my cock against the flared open entrance of her pussy.
I thrust inside her. Connie stiffened for an instant and then her whole body seemed to melt like wax. She went soft in my arms. She lowered her leg and we began to buck against each other as the tightness of her body served to grip and goad me until I knew I was about to burst.
I could smell the shampoo of Connie’s hair. I inhaled the scents of sex that seemed to drift like smoke from her body. She pushed herself back against me with eagerness and then a long soft moan of throaty desire spilled from her lips.
“I’m going to come again,” her voice was strained. “I don’t believe this.”
“Come with me!” I rasped, feeling the growing tension in Connie
’s body enhance and magnify my own racing need.
Our lovemaking lost all the gentle beauty of an erotic dance and instead became a desperate frantic need for our own releases. Our bodies crashed together. Connie’s hands flailed and clawed. I felt my aching burn to explode override the last vestiges of tenderness and I plunged myself deeper and harder within her until at last – at long last – my body released and the ferocity of my orgasm exploded behind my eyes. I felt myself falling, spinning and spiraling down into darkness. Connie was there too. She was gasping and thrashing her body against me and we clung together like survivors of an awesome tempest until the storm passed and left us exhausted and entwined on a bed of tangled sheets.
For many minutes neither of us spoke – we were both overcome and completely spent. We stared at each other, neither of us able to find the words – neither of us knowing what words to say. I was shattered. Connie’s body rippled with the aftershocks of her orgasm. She stared into space, not seeing anything – seeing it all behind her eyes.
I moved like a man who had been washed ashore in a storm. I rolled away, my limbs leaden and heavy, my body weary. I propped myself up on one elbow, lying on my side. I stared at Connie stretched out on her back on the bed beside me. We were both breathing raggedly. My chest was glistening with the sweat of exertion. Connie’s eyes were closed and there was a soft smile of deep satisfaction spread across her face. She had one arm thrown across her breasts as though to feel herself breathing. Her hair was tousled, the bed sheets twisted beneath us. She lay perfectly still.
“So…” I asked slowly, “… what’s this favor you wanted to ask me?”
Connie’s eyes came open slowly as though she were waking from a pleasant dream. She licked dry lips, then turned her head to look up into my eyes.
“Later,” she said softly. “I’m waiting for a phone call.”
One of her hands reached out and she brushed her fingers across my torso in some innately feminine gesture as if to convince herself that I was real – that this hadn’t been a fantasy. Her fingers lingered and then drifted lower, her intimate touch becoming almost possessive. She took my softening shaft gently in her hand with dreamy wantonness. “Thank you,” she said.
