Lookout

After finishing the pie I led Evan out onto the catwalk and we leaned against the railing. This was the point I'd been scheming to get to all day. From here on I needed to relax and let him take most of the initiative, if only he would. There was no romantic sunset to for us to watch, only a darkening mass of gray clouds in the west. A warm wind was blowing from the south, so we remained sheltered on the north side of the tower, watching the distant lightning along the Canadian border. "Shouldn't you be reporting those strikes?" he asked.

"Not until they're close enough to make thunder. Then you count the seconds between the flash and the thunder and calculate the distance to the strike. You use the alidade– that's the direction-finder on the table in the middle of the room- to determine the exact direction. By combining both methods you can pinpoint every ground strike, unless they come too fast. Tonight I'm not going to bother; those strikes may start hundreds of fires, but every one should be rained out by morning." Besides, I had other plans for tonight.

I didn't want to talk about forest fires. I didn't want to talk about the weather, not even the drama approaching on a collision course from the north and west. I didn't want to talk about anything. I wanted to be kissed.

In silence we lounged against the railing, not quite touching. My body language was saying "kiss me." My head was leaning towards his. Please don't make me wait any longer, I implored silently. After an eternity of maybe thirty seconds he finally worked up his nerve. As first kisses go, this one was nothing to write home about. Putting his hands on my shoulders he leaned down. His lips brushed my nose. Then he lowered his aim and found my lips. After that things improved rapidly.

We embraced and our tongues connected. If I'd felt electricity when we'd touched before dinner then this was like a lightning bolt. My whole body began to tremble. My hips ground uncontrollably and I felt a rush of liquid into my panties. I thrust my breasts against his chest. I was approaching a point of no return. I didn't want to come from just a kiss. I broke away, breathing hard. I stared up at him, but it was getting too dark to really see into those beautiful eyes. I wanted to feel his hands on my body. I leaned my cheek against his neck. "Mmm, you smell good," I murmured.

"You smell good too, and excited." Even outdoors, the unmistakable order of wet pussy was drifting up from my soaked panties.

"Remember this afternoon when I told you that turnabout wasn't fair play? Well, I've changed my mind."

"It's a woman's prerogative," he said. He began to softly caress my breasts with his violinist's hands, lightly moving in circles around the sensitive aureoles. It felt heavenly. I whimpered as I felt him moving closer to my stiffening nipples. When he reached them he began to gently tease them into even greater erection. He started to strum them with stiffened fingers as I felt the approach of an orgasm. I rose up on my toes, my whole body quivering as my hands clenched his muscular back. Wave after wave of pleasure shot through me. I never wanted it ever to end and for a long time it didn't. Evan kept strumming, perfectly in tune with my pulsating body. Finally my legs gave out and I collapsed against his chest.

I looked up at him in wonderment. "I've never had that happen before. I've never had an orgasm with my breasts, and never one that long or intense. My nipples felt like clitorises."

"I think you were ready," he said laconically.

I moved my hand to his crotch. "It feels as though you're ready, too."

"Yes, but um, I'm going to need to wash out my underwear before I wear them again."

"You mean you came too?"

"How could I not, watching you and feeling you? We seem to be pretty strongly connected. And don't worry, there's more where that came from. I could use a few minutes to recover, though."

"You shall have them. Let's go inside; it's dark out here and I want to look at you."

"I want to look at you too. In fact... Well, remember this afternoon when you said 'ask me anything' and I said I'd think of something?"

"Yes..."

"Well, I've thought of something." I relit the candle on the table and waited, a bit apprehensively, for him to continue. "This morning when we first met, the second thing I noticed about you was that you had a fantastic body. You've got a beautiful face and I never get tired of looking into your eyes, but when I noticed you weren't wearing a bra it took a lot of will-power not to stare at your breasts. Then when you got wet at the pond I thought I'd died and gone to heaven. But I still want to see you without your clothes on."

"Why not? I was about to take them off anyway." I started to lift the hem of my tee shirt.

"Wait," he said. "Not like that. Slowly, and with music. I saw a boom box over there."

"Evan, I'm a forester, not an eck, ecdy- not a stripper. But I did agree to do anything you wanted, so I'll give it a try. I'm feeling really self-conscious, though." I sorted through my CD's, which were hard to see in the dim candlelight. "This ought to do. Ravel's Bolero. Trite, maybe, but it should work."

"Listen, Janet, I don't want you do anything unless you feel like it. It just seemed to me this afternoon at the pond that you were being proudly exhibitionistic, and having a good time doing it."

"You're right. I was being a shameless hussy, and loving it. I think the difference was that then it was my idea and I felt totally in control. This is really embarrassing, but... well, I orchestrated everything that happened today. Ten minutes after we met I had it all planned out- the water hole, the dinner, kissing on the catwalk. Of course what happened after that wasn't planned. That was beyond anything I could have dreamed of. Anyway, I needed to tell you- I don't want to start out with you by being anything but completely open and honest. I'm sorry, I'm not usually so manipulative."

He took my hands in his and looked into my eyes, which were leaking a few tears. "To be manipulative you have to get someone to act against his real wishes or his better judgment. Today has been the happiest day of my life, by a long shot. Everything you've done has been perfect. Do you think I didn't know what you were up to? Do you think I wasn't loving every minute of it? Being seduced by you was- well, Ma'am, it was a great honor." He put his hand to his heart and made a genteel bow. I began to giggle. "However I should point out Ma'am, that you haven't quite finished the job; there is still work to be done."

I kissed him briefly, tenderly. "Very well, sir, it shall be done. But first let us light a few more candles. I wish no part of the upcoming spectacle to go unremarked. Please be seated on the bed. The audience will remain seated throughout the performance. The artist apologizes in advance for the lack of slinky gowns, boas, pasties and G-strings."

I had only three more candles. I lit all three and spaced them around the room. Then I pushed the play button and we heard the faint, lonely sound of the flute as it began Ravel's sensuous melody. My meager dance training had ended at age eight, so this was going to be a stretch. I started to sway slowly and caress my body with my fingers. It was easy to imagine that they were Evan's hands roaming freely all over me. Each time a new solo instrument took over the tune I tried to add a new sensual element to my movements. When the oboe played, I played with my breasts. When the bassoon soloed, I plunged my hand into my shorts and did a little soloing of my own. Still, I knew I would run out of ideas and clothing long before I ran out of music. Oh well, in the meantime we could both enjoy ourselves. I was starting to get turned on again, and Evan was watching raptly, unmoving. When the saxophone took over that perennial, sexy melody I knew it was time to actually take something off. I started massaging my belly, very slowly pushing up the hem of my shirt as my hands moved upwards. When the hem reached the bottom curve of my breasts I slipped my arms out of the sleeves. The tee shirt now resembled a halter, leaving my midriff bare. I squeezed the full, resilient globes, enjoying the touch of my fingers through the cloth. Not quite as good as Evan's hands, but still pleasurable. I pinched the nipples into erection, sending a surge of pleasure racing down to my crotch. Then, using my thumbs to keep the cloth from riding up prematurely, I inched the hem upwards again, exposing the bottom portion of my breasts, then a hint of the aureoles, then a little more, stopping just short of the nipples. A half-inch more and the hard little buds sprang into view. I pulled the shirt over my head and cast it aside. I continued to move as sensuously as I knew how. Evan's eyes were making a meal of my breasts. I moved close to him, squeezing them, cupping them, toying with the nipples. I felt new lubrication between my legs. Perhaps it was time to lower the sights.

My shorts left a lot to be desired; they were basic khaki, rather baggy, and were spotted with huckleberry stains, especially that big one on the ass. My inclination was to get out of them as quickly as possible, but I knew that wouldn't do, so I took my sweet time unbuttoning them, sliding them slowly over my hips and down my legs, finally flipping them with my foot to join the tee shirt on the floor. My panties were at least a little sexier, being red and fairly brief, leaving bare the lower part of my cheeks. I turned slowly to give Evan that view and ran my fingers along the hem, forcing the material into the crack of my ass. I drew my middle finger up the crack and turned again to face him. The trombone was wailing soulfully as I pushed the elastic down a little. The crotch area of my panties was sopping wet. I'm not sure, but I don't think you see that sort of thing in most strip clubs. I hoped it was a turn-on for him. I pushed the band down further, to the point where a patch of golden-brown hair was visible. Thankfully I had done some trimming a few days ago and my pubic hair no longer resembled an old-growth forest. I moved a few feet back and slid my hands into the panties until my fingertips were resting on my upper thighs. Then I began to move my hips in a wide circular motion while thrusting my pelvis back and forth. The panties slid lower with each gyration. More and more pubic hair came into view. Finally I felt the elastic band slide below my buttocks. Now all the pubic hair was visible and only the lowest part of my pussy was covered. I brought my hands out of the panties and raised my arms over my head. I wanted to see if I could lower the panties the rest of the way just with my bumping and grinding. They came down a little farther but then got stuck, barely preventing a wide-open view of my sex. I continued my efforts for while, but none of my contortions was having any effect. On the panties, that is. Evan was sitting rigidly, staring as if hypnotized. And I was really getting aroused. Finally giving up, I pushed the panties down with my hands and stepped out of them. But rather than kicking them away I picked them up with my toes and lifted them into my hand. I moved towards Evan with a very slow, swaying walk. What I wouldn't give for a pair of five-inch spike heels, I thought regretfully. I stopped inches away from him and brushed his cheek with the soaked and odorous panties. I dragged them back and forth across his nose. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. I was glad to see him getting into the spirit of things. Meanwhile Bolero was growing inexorably towards its final climax. Well, why not, I thought. I didn't have far to go either. I tossed the panties away and moved one hand to my breast, the other to my pussy, which was at Evan's eye level and about two feet from his face. No time for subtlety now, no time for slow teasing. One of my middle digits worked in circles on my erect nipple, the other on my equally erect clit. The motion was causing my other breast to bounce and jiggle. Evan didn't know which way to look. The twin stimuli were quickly bringing me to the verge. I hung on the edge, my chest flushing and my body beginning to quake. As the music reached the final measures I increased the tempo of my stroking and suddenly all my muscles clenched. Some liquid spurted out of my vulva into Evan's lap and I growled deeply as both I and the New York Philharmonic came to a shuddering halt.

For a moment Evan remained dumbstruck, clearly moved but immobile. Then he leapt to his feet and applauded vigorously. "Brava, brava!"

Still panting from my efforts, I made my best curtsey. It might have looked less lewd if I'd been wearing a tutu. "A standing ovation! You honor me deeply, good sir."

"Not at all, my good lady. Having watched you give yourself a standing O I could only reciprocate." I collapsed in giggles against his chest.

After a minute I said, "now it's your turn. I've been wanting to see your bare body all day. And feel it, too."

"I hope you can do without the striptease. I'm afraid anything I could do would be anticlimactic."

"I'm not so sure, but I'm we'll let it go this time. I don't have the patience. I want you now."

"Do we need birth control? I didn't bring anything."

"Well why not? From now on I expect you to carry a rubber whenever you climb a mountain, at least when I'm waiting on top of it. It shouldn't be a problem though, I just finished my period. Now, off with that shirt."

He complied quickly, and my attention immediately fell to his waist, where the tip of his penis was protruding from his shorts. Wasting no time I unbuttoned and unzipped the fly and pulled his shorts and underwear down to the floor. I stared. "You're really beautiful," I said, awestruck.

"I aim to please, Ma'am. But I'll please more if I can rinse off. I'm a bit stinky and sticky from my postprandial orgasm."

"Wow! Postprandial. Not only is he gorgeous but he uses big words, too. Not to mention having a big, beautiful cock."

"Stop it, or my head will get swollen too."

"Can't have that. Here's a washcloth."

I watched as he rinsed himself off. His rigid member was maybe seven inches, which was longer than the other two that I'd seen. It was an erection in the truest sense; an ejaculation would have nailed him right on the chin. I lay down on the bed. "Now," I said. He knelt between my legs and entered me slowly, steadily, all the way. Within seconds my muscles tensed with the approach of orgasm. Evan continued his slow, deep thrusts, drawing out my climax. My head shook from side to side and my hips bucked. I had no control over my body or my voice, which rose in a series of long wavering cries. I felt as though I could have continued to come for an hour, but finally I managed to regain control of my vocal cords and said, "would you like me on top?"

He nodded. I suppose a more experienced pair of lovers would have managed the switch without disengaging but we didn't even try. After he had lain down I kneeled, lowering myself onto him and remaining motionless for a minute, enjoying the exquisite feelings of fullness and connection. I was leaning forward, my breasts dangling inches from his face. I leaned down a little more and moved side-to-side, making the nipples brush his lips. Evan took the hint and pulled a breast to his mouth, teasing the sensitive nipple with his tongue. With his left hand he toyed with the other breast, pinching the nipple with increasing pressure until I reached the border between ecstasy and pain. I began to rock slowly up and down but was again overtaken by the approach of orgasm and within moments was riding his pole as fast as I could. My nipple pulled out of his mouth, which was replaced by his right hand. Our bodies slapped together wetly with each thrust as he rose to meet me. In the midst of my climax something made me open my eyes. I could see energy flowing from his body into mine. I groaned in terror and pleasure and collapsed, completely spent, onto his chest.

"That was scary," I said when I had caught my breath.

"What was scary?" he asked.

"I saw blue sparks shooting out of your fingertips. What was that about?"

"Really? I think you saw something most people aren't able to perceive. As I understand it, whenever two people come near each other there's an exchange of energy. If they touch the exchange is stronger and if they have sex it's much, much stronger. The exchange is often unbalanced, so that one person may be exhilarated while the other feels drained. The last time I had sex I was a zombie for days afterwards. She, on the other hand, got a big energy rush and wanted more and more. Of course I didn't want anything more to do with her. Explaining the situation didn't help; she still felt rejected and thought I was just being a typical jerk. I think the problem was exacerbated by my practice of a type of yoga and meditation which strengthens kundalini. It meant I had a lot more to lose. And a lot more to give, I suppose. Anyway, it's made me very careful about whom I have sex with, which is why I haven't been laid since last winter. Until now, of course."

"Whom. Wow, you sure do talk good, Mister." But I was worried. "Evan, do you feel like a zombie right now?"

"Actually, I feel exhilarated. I'm ready for another round. Uh-oh, do you feel like a zombie?"

"You mean you didn't come?" I realized he was still hard inside me. "I'm sorry, but I've had it. I do feel like a zombie, a very satisfied zombie. I feel fulfilled, not drained. Just give me a few minutes to recover." And with that I promptly fell asleep on his chest.

In my dream I was floating down a great river. I was face-down in the water, but the surface tension seemed to be so great that I didn't sink. A golden glow was spreading outwards from my midsection. It reached my extremities and flowed into the water. I could hear the roar of breakers. I had reached the ocean and was rocking on the waves. I became one with the waves, one with the ocean. I felt the ocean flowing into me, flowing out of me.

I awoke to orgasm. Evan was coming inside me and with every thrust produced an answering flood from me. My consciousness became bisected. I continued to feel blissfully unified with my surroundings- with Evan, with the nearing thunder, with the wind howling around the tower. I was also aware that I was making a tremendous mess. Finally I managed to say, "Evan? I think I just wet the bed."

"It's not pee," he replied. "It's female ejaculate."

"Are you sure? There was so much of it."

"Trust me," he said. "You just came big-time."

"How did you get so knowledgeable? Do all your women do this?"

"No, no, I'm just well-read on the subject."

"How long was I asleep?"

"I'm not sure, maybe an hour."

"Oh gosh! Were you hard inside me all that time?"

"Yes. You were sleeping soundly and I didn't want to wake you. I thought it might be a good time to practice a sort of tantric sex. I don't really understand it, but I gather that if partners don't move, eventually their sexual energy can get redirected upwards and they can have a transcendental experience."

"And did you?"

"Not exactly. I finally started to get blue balls, so I started to move a little."

"You poor boy. I trust you are no longer in discomfort."

"On the contrary; I'm feeling extremely comfortable, except that I need to pee."

"Me too, which makes me think that just maybe I didn't wet the bed. But listen, I had a transcendental experience." I told him about my dream and its aftermath. "So anyway, now part of me is feeling blissfully connected to you and everything around us and another part of me is thinking about this messy sleeping bag and having to pee and needing to bring in wood and start a fire before the storm hits."