Another Springtime Ch. 09

"Please, Dace… Oh, darling, please…." These were the desperate pleadings of a trusting and sensitive girl already lost to the moment's passion.

"Please what, Baby? What is it you want, Baby?"

There was a lull, even as I filled her with long, slow and ever deeper thrusts, before she could say it.

"Make me yours, Dace… please make me… yours. Fill me… forever!" She was gasping between thrusts that were taking her higher and higher. More thrusts, bottoming out in her depths and demanding of her total surrender and submission, made her only more beautiful yet beneath me.

I leaned forward over her and blew lightly on her sensitive breasts as they danced in time with my thrusting into her. It was a reward for me to discover that was enough to push her over the crest and she moaned, almost a scream, as her body tensed and her orgasm wrenched her tight before releasing her and washing her in pleasure and sweeping away from her every awareness of anything other than my attention. She was like a rag doll, totally mine, kissable and begging me not to leave her.

I leaned down and kissed her pretty mouth lightly, and told her to put her arms around my neck and hang on. She did, as if her very life depended on it. I rolled back, pulling her with me and presently she was on laying on top of me, bent nearly double, with my erection thrust deeply into her body.

She released my neck and started to sit up, if for nothing else than to take a breath. As she rose the sensation of being impaled upon me grabbed and held her complete attention, and she looked down at me with the daintiest expression of total wonder and awe of me… I'll never forget that moment.

More, I think, because it pleased me so much that she did, I just asked her without giving it any thought, "You really do like that, don't you?"

She seemed too preoccupied and incoherent to respond.

"You like my cock in your pussy!"

That she did was so very obvious on her face, but she was herself completely lost to the intense and pleasurable sensations of my very deep penetration.

"Yes, you do, mypretty little vixen."

Her breathing was ragged and her eyes glazing over in passion.

"Yes, I can see you do… you like it! You love my big, powerful cock in your cute little pussy."

I touched her engorged clit and she began to come apart.

"Relax and enjoy it. Let yourself cum with my cock inside you, Babe." I twisted her clit gently – she was so very sensitive anyway to my touching her there. "I know you like me to make you, Baby. I love to make you and make you orgasm. Relax and feel my cock inside you, filling you."

She began on her own a pelvic motion to attempt to take in all I could give her, and the passion in her eyes told me quite clearly that she had moved beyond surprise and wonder to desire and wanting me tomake her. I found out that I did make her, too, in that very moment together. I made her climax again, then, as she sat on me feeling my erection high inside her, filling her body and stroking her every passion, I think. I gently twisted her swollen clit between her legs as she straddled me and he staggering orgasm ripped from her every residue of reserve, flooding our union with her flow, fragrant and plentiful, and unbidden she raised her arms over her head and looked down upon me like a queen on her throne, even as she began a gentle thrusting of her own to get yet more of me inside her. She was a magnificent lover as her inhibitions collapsed and she rode me like she was born to it.

Her pussy clamped onto me and seemed to want to suck me into her deeper still, and that did it for me. There was no more holding back. The sensual stimulus for me was too great, and I felt like a fire hose pouring hot lave into her body. Instantly, she whimpered like a baby, her lashes closed and yet another orgasm, many time more massive than the others, crashed upon her like a summer thunderstorm and she screamed her joy at my possession of her, and trembling with passion and her release she seemed as might she pass out. I took her pretty breasts in my hands and she leaned forward, thrusting them into my embrace, and the depth of her reaction left her helpless and spent in my embrace.

I was as surprised as I was pleased. How delightful to feel her beautiful form in my arms knowing her delicate being could repose at she was at that moment, comfortable and secure in my arms.

We were quiet for a long time after that and she didn't move very much. I was finding that the soft afterglow of a good orgasm with me inside her enthralled her for quite a long time, and I just enjoyed holding her quietly and caressing her bare back and bottom.

"You are so very beautiful, Christine. I am just delighted that you are such a loving and lovely girl."

She was very pleased and happy to be with me, she said, and I kind of read into that that she was thanking me for the new adventure of getting laid good and proper… both in our bed and out here on the beach. After a long interlude of her prostrate, spent and sated, on top of me, we sat up. I had her sitting on my lap on the log for a while, holding her legs together in my arms. I had noticed the previous night that she had liked my holding her close like that. She didn't say much, seemed not to be concerned at all that she was all bare but for her open blouse, kept her eyes down, and hung onto my arm, and rested… her forehead sometimes against mine.

"You are glowing, Darling… glowing with love and beauty. You're fascinating!"

She wanted my hand on her soft breast and held it to her. She smiled softly that smile of hers that made the corners of her pretty mouth curl up. Her cheeks were full of roses and we just sat quietly, on the big log under the trees on the beach… naked and in the warmth of the summer day with the cooling breeze off the water. Her nipple was very tender after the series of her earthquake-like orgasms in response to my possessing her, and she whimpered a little when I touched her, but she wanted me to hold her breast and kept my hand close to her with hers. She was glowing, truly, and clearly cherished the moment together as much as I.

We got back to our house some while later. I led her back down the beach by the hand, carried her up the hill – partly with her pretty form draped across my back, partly with her couched delightedly in my arms, and she never questioned me or showed any anxiety – a victorious knight draws from his joy at his lady's love sources of strength and stamina not otherwise available to the common man amongst us. Only at the edge of the forest did I help her on with her pants and button her blouse. Then she took my hand gently in hers, she didn't want her sandals on, and we emerged from the forest and started across the broad grassy area toward our house. I felt her next to me as a kindly and kindred spirit, taking dainty little feminine steps in the grass softened in the warm sunlight, wanting to be there with me and be mine, a lovely and loving girl, her long hair flowing around us in the afternoon breezes, who thought of me as her own "Sir knight."

"Ooooh!" She cried out softly. She had stepped on something hard in the grass, and stopped. We looked at her foot, no damage but just a little redness. That was sufficient excuse, and I scooped her up and she flung her arms around my neck again, her countenance all smiles and sunshine in my embrace. She was a treasure. She poured us a tall glass of icy fruit juice to quench our thirst and sat on my lap at the table, smiling at me with a saucy little smirk of satisfaction, holding the glass up to my lips as we shared the juice. Still, she was quiet and pensive, and it showed that she was both thrilled at our outing and wanted to stay close to me.

"Did you enjoy our time on the beach, Darling?"

She nodded quickly and with enthusiasm, and mentioned how interesting the beach was, and the little crab. Her voice was light and full of fun and excitement even while she felt so soft and feminine.

Then her cheeks colored slightly and she looked at me with an impish little smile. "Will you always love me so tenderly and… fill me…with that?" She made a dainty pointing gesture downward with one finger.

I was a little surprised and a lot thrilled at her openness, and nodded slowly. She put her hand over her mouth like a little girl might when she is both shocked and delighted at something wonderful. Her antics were just too sweet and loveable for words.

"Does my pretty little vixen feel a little empty now?"

That caught her off guard. She looked at me a moment before she blushed lightly, and gave me just the cutest little nod of her head, a luster in those brown eyes, and collapsed in my embrace with her face buried in my neck.

After holding her a while and enjoying her being so cuddly, I mentioned how sunny and bright it was on the verandah, and she perked up and suggested making us some sandwiches and fruit for lunch. Her normally animated personality began to show forth again, but before she rose from my lap she turned once more and looked deeply into my eyes.

"Thank you, Darling," Her voice was husky and full of warmth, and she touched my lips tenderly with her finger. "You're making it a wonderful adventure to love and be loved by a man…by you! I never dared dream it could be so much fun!"

Nor, frankly, had I.

]

The days following were a little quieter. Truth be known, I needed a chance to recover from our momentous love-making sessions in bed.

Sunday was a beautiful day. A little overcast and cooler, and I dressed her properly while she trembled at my touch and we walked the little distance down to the brunch being served at the cafeteria. The food was good, the conversation about the scenery all about us and the nature walk through the forest, and, while the fire and passion of physical intimacy was set aside for the moment, the warmth and intimacy of loving companionship prevailed and we enjoyed the day immensely.

There was a sign at the beginning of the trail and it lead about a quarter mile through the woods behind the homes and back again. Our talk, on the other hand, wandered all over the map though, unlike in months before we now could talk openly about us and our togetherness and our future, and she could relate more freely things in her past. She had spent three days in Vienna with a school group in her junior year and had loved it, and it showed in her telling me of the excursion. The walk was relaxing and drew away tension and cares, and the green trees and ferns and lush undergrowth were just a pleasant excursion into never-never land.

Rain clouds off the sea had been gathering and now shut out the sunlight, and the first drops were beginning as we concluded our little hike through the forest. Back in the house together she waited for my lead. I mentioned a short story she had been telling me about. She had been wanting to read it and asked if we could do that together, looking up at me with her sweet smile and big brown eyes.

Irresistible.

We pulled the overstuffed chair up before the couch to make a little place to snuggle, and I left the double doors to the verandah open for the cooler fresh air off the water. Fully dressed – a light sweater over her bra and a casual skirt over her panties – but for her shoes, which she shed at the drop of a hat and almost never wore in the house anyway, she wiggled up next to me with a delightful smile and we started to read together, each of us taking a paragraph in turn.

Well, it was a real page turner, even if only some twenty pages long. We stopped a couple of times to discuss the events and what they would mean for the hero and heroine. The situation was rather unremarkable, even rather everyday but the more suited to the story due to its very commonality, yet the tension built as the author hinted at dark forces and unseen influences. Then at last the two each had major decisions to make independent of the other, and did so with courage and devotion, and the ending was dramatic and amazing and unforeseeable… but happy.

I closed the book and pushed it aside, and she laid her head on my chest and I could joy in the scent of her hair and feeling her just at home and confident with me. She was quiet for a long time, then asked me softly if I would have made the choice the hero had made, knowing now in retrospect how very scant the chance was ever to see the girl again. Sure, she saw in the story line a simile with our own adventure and wondered in her way if I saw it too. I thought about that. The choice had required of the fellow a dedication to her and resolution in severe trial, though, I said to her, it seemed to me he never really vacillated at all. The alternatives looked attractive on the surface, but none of them lead him back to her and he quickly saw that and chose accordingly.

"Kind of…" she shifted a little and turned her face up to me, "kind of like you, huh?" Child-like in her innocence, she wanted to hear me say again that I loved her. She seemed never to tire of my reassurances and delighted in being with me.

I paused. "Well," I let my response drag out a bit, "yea, kind of."

She looked at me questioningly and waited.

"She was really, well, kind of…" – the girl in the story had been very kind and generous, "well, kind of ‘mousy,' I guess."

With her fist she pounded once on my chest in feigned disgust at my ungallant appraisal, and looked at me askance.

"She was not nearly as charming and feminine asmy heroine in my story.My girl has bright little twinkles in her big brown eyes just for me, and one of her smiles sets my heart aglow with the gentle tenderness of her love and the scalding heat of her passion for me."

The surprised expression on her pretty face was like unto a first magnitude star in a clear night sky, a treasure of immeasurable worth, and – though I have never been able to figure out how she did that – the very lights of her soul seemed to twinkle in her pretty eyes, and her expression of love as she reached to kiss me was rich and pure and unrestrained.

She was a beautiful girl!

She was comfortable in my arms, there was no hurry at all, and we talked about us for a while… slowly, unpressured, relaxed. The cooler fresh air and the light, pelting rainfall made it cozy, and when she shivered slightly I pulled the blanket up over her shoulders and after a time our conversation just drifted and we were no longer speaking.

She snuggled close under the cashmere throw and purred for me contentedly. I had moved my right hand under her sweater and was working the muscles in her lower back gently, and initially she was anxious that I would not tickle her. With time and the warmth of the throw she relaxed and then my hand on her bare back began to change her mood. I moved up over the strap of her brassiere and worked her shoulder a little. Her sweater was one of those very loose, open knit types, and almost no hindrance at all. My attention and gentle massage began to strip away all her reserve, what little our lovemaking thus far had left her, and her arousal started her cute little whimperings deep in her throat, and her breathing was irregular. She reached up around my neck with one arm and pressed herself against me, and in a breathy, almost desperate little pleading, "Dace,I don't want any clothes on any more…."

]

On the very last day of our honeymoon, which had been a marvelous and unbelievably wonderful time together, I was still learning things about her that amazed and delighted me. Well, that shouldn't be a surprise; I still am learning things about her.

I found, among other things, that my attention and teaching and loving had opened doors for her that she had never even imagined might be. She had blossomed under my love and care and tutelage, and what's more, she continues to this very day toblossom as prettily as a bright red rose in the afternoon's sunlight… and, with a little coaxing and encouragement, just whenever I want her too.

As close as we had become, as tender and open as our feelings now were for each other, I did not realize the extent to which our relationship was changing… the extent to which it had changed already. We were back to our apartment, "Balmy Biloxi," Monday, late morning. The only things pressing were to catch up on our laundry, not all that much since I had kept her nearly naked most of the time, and then various other little chores about the place. It made her feel at home to have time to putter in her kitchen, vacuum a little and make our home cozy and comfortable.

Most importantly, however, was that it was now truly ‘our' home and she felt that right from the beginning, and she reveled in it. Working together, we changed the sheets on my big king-sized bed, and we replaced the pad with a new one we had bought for ourselves – one of those new types, very thick and luxurious – and used the new, fresh pink satin sheets and pillow cases she had selected. For the first time in our apartment she would be coming into what had been ‘my' bed… now it was ‘our' bed… coming intoour bed withme… as sweethearts and lovers, and husband and wife. It shown in her eyes how delighted she was at the changes in our home. Early that evening, after dinner together, I made a little ceremony of leading her to our bedroom, turning down the covers, and taking her to bed with me. That special treatment seemed to confirm something to her… we were as we had always been over the previous months, but now we were married and belonged to each other… now we were more!. We were together, we were not rushed in the least, and we just enjoyed being with each other… and she glowed for me as never before.

Tuesday was more relaxing. It was catch up time and putting together shopping lists and planning a little for the first week of our married life together at home. It was a delightful day.

Christine had called Jennifer and invited her over for dinner, and in the course of the evening there occurred then a conversation with my daughter that is memorable. Maybe calling it a confrontation is better. We had just a few minutes in the kitchen alone together as Christine was away in the bedroom. Jenny lost not a moment in making her point, however.

"You really did it, didn't you Dad?"

"Did what?"

"You know very well ‘what,'" she countered.

There are times a man senses intuitively that there simply does not exist in the universe an answer that will satisfy his daughter's probing, and that silence is, if not the perfect answer, at least one that will not dig the pit any deeper.

"You made love with her, didn't you, Dad?" She had already decided that only a ‘yes' answer could apply, and her tone told me not just that she had discerned that but also that she felt herself immensely pleased at having found out somehow."

"It is my understanding," I tried to respond with a cool off-handedness, "that such is, shall we say, rather traditional for a honeymoon, is it not?"

"You know what I mean, Dad. I've got a girl friend who thinks her honeymoon was just hell because he was rough and demanding and uncaring for her feelings." She was very matter of fact about this. "I can see it clearly, Dad. Christine is just glowing and thrilled to be alive, and she follows you around like a love-struck fairy princess. You made her a very happy woman, Dad. I'm proud of you!"

Once again, most anything said is too much, but the words seemed to flow before I could tether them. "When inspiration is abundant, young lady, delightful things can occur."

She looked at me, still drying one of the pans, but all movement halted by her thinking, as were I perhaps the Nobel Prize winner for Philosophy and marital bliss.

As if on cue, the fairy princess waltzed back into our presence and put her arms around my waist and asked whether I thought we could have some strawberry ice cream for desert… yes, the same sweetness I had experienced before, though she had now moved well beyond the innocent sixteen-year old coaxing her dad for a prom dress. She knew she was a part of me, and I of her, and reveled in our unity. She waited for my approval as if my word would alter the course of nations. I furrowed my brow in concerned thought, teasing her playfully for a moment, but I felt like the king of the world!.