Choral Evenings Pt. 03

So we stood there, in spite of the awkwardness of our position, kissing - kissing long and hard and increasingly passionately.

But when I tried - as of course I was bound to - to slip my fingers down between her panties and her flesh, so as to reach the reality of her waiting pussy, I found the waistband was unusually tight, almost defying me to encroach any further.

Bethany broke from my embrace, gave one of her deep-throated chuckling giggles, then turned to face me. 'You'll find these are a rather different design to my usual ones, so they'll need you to use rather different tactics.' she said, standing with her hands on her hips - her fingers apparently pointing to the two tiny crimson bows that lay just beneath them.

I dropped to my knees before her, reached up and took one end of the trailing pieces of ribbon in each hand, then gave a short but quite sharp tug.

The ribbon unfastened, and as Bethany eased her legs slightly more apart, the panties simply dropped free of her, curling in the centre of the already fallen dress - now, except for those super-sexy thigh-highs, she was totally naked.

In the time it took me to struggle free of my briefs, Bethany gathered up her dress and conveniently discarded panties then, neither of us wishing to make it too obvious what we had been up to by messing up the bed, she had me lie down on the floor. Then, having straddled me and filled herself with it, she did what I had asked her to when we were in a similar position beside the fire - bending forward low enough for me to lick and suck her breasts while her pussy took even better care of my cock.

Although we had of course had many much more lovingly performed couplings - and would have many far more daringly exciting ones in our future - the time, place and circumstances of that one always made it one of our more mutually memorable ones.

And although we could hear the sound of the increasingly loud jollities in the garden below us, neither of us was either fazed or put off by that, or seemed in too great a hurry to bring that coupling to its inevitable finale.

Sometimes she rode me - the rhythmic tightening and loosening of her suctioning pussy sending shock-like thrills coursing through me as it pushed, seemingly relentlessly, up and down the apparently sizzling length of my white-hot cock. Sometimes she held herself steady - so I could take my turn in thrusting high and hard inside that wet-velvet grip she had me in, my cock pistoning freely, even its massively bloated head finding easy access as her pussy produced more and more freely dripping lubrication.

Sometimes we worked together - my thrusting coinciding with her downward pushing, forcing my cock deeper, ever deeper into those most secret places buried in the heart of her.

And our grunts and cries of delighted ecstasy were sometimes solo, sometimes harmonising duets of mutually blissful rapture.

Neither one of us was the giver, the other merely the receiver - we were, as I'm sure we both hoped we always would be, sharing in both the provision and reception of a continuing exchange of physical excitement. The intensity of the thrills we felt was not only magnified by the depth of love we each felt for the other but also being fired and further fuelled by it.

But of course, much as our minds and hearts might have wished that time to continue on - holding us there in an unending paradise of utterly rhapsodical pleasure - our bodies were ill-equipped for that, and were driven by more a much basic system, one that took little account of the timeless place our minds and hearts had lifted us to.

And, as Bethany's actions became decidedly more vigorously demanding of me, I also felt the first deeply buried surges that heralded the imminence of the onset of my own climax.

Then, as though both bodies had in some way been following the same conductor, or together heard the strains of the music's steadily rising crescendo, we each, separately, but still in perfect harmony, began the climb that increasingly quickly took us to the peak where our climaxes merged, mingled, melded - my cock erupting even as her pussy's convulsive clenching gripped it ever more tightly.

We heaved, grunted, cried, squealed, gasping out words of both love, and of almost meaningless excitement - hands clutching, fingers clawing, bodies gulping in reinvigorating breaths of air - and as my cock continued spouting, her pussy seemed to want to milk every single drop I had to give her.

Then, once each of us had made a furtively quick dash into the adjacent bathroom to freshen up, I left Bethany to finish getting herself ready for our journey and went downstairs to at least begin saying my own goodbyes.

She joined me some fifteen minutes later, and although in a relatively simple, close-fitting, russet coloured jersey dress, to me she still looked utterly fantastic.

As well as changing the dress itself, and applying a more suitably colour-blending lipstick, she had also replaced the tiny bows that had held her side-swept hair in place, with a number of short strings of very tiny, multicoloured beads. And although looking totally different from the seductively elegant beauty that had walked towards me - and in spite of the massive draining she had only just given me - she looked so extraordinarily stunning that I found myself eagerly anticipating the time when I would have her to myself - for much more than just the half hour we had managed to snatch up in her bedroom.