My Real and Terrific Love Life Ch. 1

With my legs spread wide open, I began massaging my breasts, arching my back, and swaying my hips in my desperation to finally feel his tongue against my hardening clit. But instead of starting to eat me out, as my twitching body language so loudly proclaimed that I wanted him to do, he moved his hand and his mouth down to my right ankle, and he began the same slow, teasing stroking and kissing up my right leg, that he had just completed when going up my left leg. His heating me up, and yet continuing to make me wait, was the most exquisite blend of pleasure and torture that I had ever felt.

Again, he paused from time to time to intertwine his fingers between the toes of my right foot, then he resumed his tantalizing stroking and kissing precisely where he had left off. Again, his hand came to rest on the outside of my pussy, as his kisses caught up to the top of my inner thigh.

Now he began playing with the thick triangle of brown hair between my legs, stroking the hair like the fingers of a comb passing through it, and curling the longer strands around his fingers. I felt like a cliff-diver leaning way out over a rocky shore, ready to dive off, to release my pent-up energy, but he was not ready to let me jump off the cliff into the sea of climax just yet. He seemed determined to hold me perched, poised, teetering right on the edge of that orgasmic cliff, for as long as he could.

I squirmed and wiggled beneath his teasing, and I moaned for him to lick me. But he still continued to ignore me, to torment me, letting his exploring fingers and tongue touch me all around, but not yet directly on, my by-now desperately-horny pussy.

Now he knelt on his knees between my spread legs on the bed, and he slid his long, thin middle finger (which reminded me of the skilled fingers on the hands of a pianist or a doctor), deep inside of my dripping pussy. This still wasn't the tongue that I craved, but at least SOME part of him was finally making contact with my hot and lusty eager-beaver. As he slid first one, and then two fingers deep inside of my tight, hot, dripping-wet pussy, his thumb gently rubbed and pressed against my throbbing clit. He might not be a doctor or a pianist, but I now realized that his long fingers were clearly as skilled, in their own way. My breathing became heavier, and he was reawakening long-dormant feelings from my youth. My rekindled lust slowly washed over my body, starting with a tingling in my toes, and working its way up in waves. But he still would not let that gathering wave fully crest in me just yet.

My growing lust, simultaneously advancing yet held in check, centered around where his talented, probing, exploring fingers were so patiently, tenderly, and lovingly ministering to the needs of my starving pussy.

He stretched himself out along the bed, face-down, his legs stretched out in thin air beyond the foot of the bed. If you were to have looked down on his bed at that moment, you would have seen, in a straight line, my head propped up on some pillows, my exposed breasts, my legs, then his head between my thighs, his back, his cute and firm ass, and the backs of his long, muscular legs.

He cupped both of his hands under the cheeks of my ass, and he pressed his face against my desperately hungry pussy. He started with kisses on my outer pussy lips, and around my still partly-hidden clit, but even now, the tongue that I had craved since our first French kiss, was scrupulously avoiding me. Writhing in desperation, I again moaned for him to lick me. His tongue FINALLY darted out of his mouth, and that beautiful tongue of his at last began working its own special brand of magic on me.

His marvelous tongue, which had explored my mouth in my garage on our second date, now rolled slowly up and down along the outside of my pussy lips, and then licked at my love button. I had waited for this moment all week, I had dreamed about it, fantasized about it, rubbed my vibrator all over my clit, while desperately wishing to replace the vibrator with his tongue. And now I was at long last actually feeling his tongue playfully lapping against my pussy lips, and all over my interior. The sensations that he was stirring in me were more exquisite than I had even imagined, than I could EVER have imagined.

But then it got even BETTER! His teeth began a very gentle nibbling on my outer lips, and then moved up to my clit, which was just beginning to stiffen and arise out of hiding. His licking and nibbling against my growing clit felt absolutely and indescribably incredible! I was getting so excited by now, that the outside of my pussy lips were almost as heavily coated with my lusty dew, as my interior walls were.

Beads of my gathering lust were beginning to seep out of me, and to coat the outside of my wide-open pussy. Surprisingly, his nibbling down there was not at all painful, just pure pleasure. He told me that he wanted only to please me, and for someone with no previous sexual experience, he did a terrific job. His fingers gently pried my outer pussy lips open, and his tongue darted deep inside of me, licking the gathering moisture from my inner walls.

I don't know where the idea started that hairy pussies are hard to eat. He seemed to just love eating me out, right through my thick pubic hair. He even told me he hates shaved pussies: as far as he was concerned, the hairier the better. He told me that he had long fantasized about having to push the hair aside with his fingers and tongue, just to get at the soft, fleshy pink folds of womanhood underneath. He said that a lot of hair "down there" makes a woman look more mature and sophisticated, not like a little school-girl. Luckily for both of us, my dark bush was and is pretty damned hairy! Knowing how hairy he likes it, of course, I now keep my furry patch as long and as thick as I can, while maintaining my triangle of pubic hair neat and trim enough to look pretty, whenever I seductively saunter naked toward him.

My breathing grew heavier, and my passion built from deep inside me in wave after ever more excited wave, as his lips, tongue, and teeth continued to relentlessly work me into total erotic frenzy. He told me that he had learned how to please a woman like this by reading letters from women in Penthouse Forum, and by watching couples-oriented X-rated movies. He told me that he even used to practice licking and sucking, using his pillow held in his arms, so he would be prepared for the day when he would finally get the chance to try-out his tongue maneuvers on a real, live woman. I'm not sure that I completely believed his story, that this is how he learned to be so good to a woman. But he certainly SOUNDED sincere, and I knew from his words and actions that he was still a virgin, so maybe he WAS telling me the truth.

Anyway, at that moment, I didn't really care HOW he had learned his techniques. I could only think how good his tongue felt on my engorged, throbbing, horny clit, and how grateful I was feeling for being the beneficiary of the knowledge, skill, and care that he obviously possessed in such great abundance, and was so lovingly sharing with me at that moment. Of course, I didn't actually say to him that I was grateful for his having taken the time to learn how to pleasure a woman, but then, I didn't HAVE to say anything. I just KNEW that he could tell from my smile, and my body language, not to mention my writhing and moaning, exactly how grateful I really was at that moment. He told me that my blissful smile reminded him of the cryptic smile on Leonardo DaVinci's Mona Lisa. I felt flattered by this comparison, as I remembered reading somewhere that DaVinci had painted the famous angelic smile, based on his memory of the subject's face at the very moment that the painter/scientist had brought her to the peak of orgasmic ecstasy.

Yes, done right, eating-out a hot pussy like mine produces a beatific Mona Lisa smile on the recipient's face, not to mention opening wide the gates to her paradise. At least, my man's skilled lips and tongue always produce both of these effects with ME!

Thanks to the slow, loving care that his highly-talented fingers and tongue were now so gently and patiently bestowing upon me, the inner walls of my pussy were now very slick and wet, and my G-spot's creamy ejaculate was now stirring from deep inside of me, and bubbling up around where he was licking my clit. My hips and ass began slowly rocking up off the bed and back down again. Soon, my hips began swaying up and down more rapidly with each of his tongue's licks. I wrapped both of my dark, shapely legs around his back, holding his head and neck in a tight scissor-lock, in the unlikely event that he should even THINK of easing his eager and talented tongue off of my straining clit. I continued rocking up off the bed and back down again, even more rapidly than before. My legs began pushing him away and pulling him closer, in rhythm with the motion of both his tongue and my gyrating hips.

Now he gently clenched his teeth onto the hard nub of my excited little clit, gently wrestling it in the same playful way that a puppy tries to wrestle a juicy bone out of your hand. His clit-chewing finally signalled to my metaphoric diver, that it was time to jump off over the cliff. My passion began to gush rapidly, and then slowed to an ooze, from around my clit, flowing slowly and thickly onto his tongue. My liquid passion was now flowing out of me at about the speed and consistency of Hawaiian lava that is starting to cool, an apt comparison of how I felt after my erotic eruption. My warm lava was steadily dribbling creamily into his mouth now.

I've read that it is a rare woman who comes so thickly and heavily every time, as I do. But then, I have that rare gentleman who can and does slowly, patiently, lovingly coax this heavy volume of liquid passion out of me every time. As I continued to ooze my clit's and my G-spot's combined passions into his mouth, and he continued to lick and gulp down every drop, I kept moaning loudly and thrashing uncontrollably on his bed, with my legs still tightly scissor-locked around his back.

I hadn't felt this good, this fulfilled, in many years. The fact that he had taken care of my own pleasure first, without yet having me please him, just added to my growing feeling that I had found a genuine gentleman, and that I was falling in love with this man.

When I finally calmed down, and my breathing slowed to a normal pace, he slid his way up the mattress, lying on top of me, hugging me. He softly kissed me on my mouth. I could faintly taste my own fresh pussy juice on his breath, and this taste of me on him made me feel sexier than I had ever felt before in my life.

Now I rolled him onto his back, and I began kissing his chest. I gently nibbled on his nipples, and they grew hard, although not as big as a woman's. I put a little more pressure into my nibbles now, but not biting or trying to hurt him. My nibbling really seemed to excite him, and now his hips and ass bucked up and down off the bed, as mine had been doing only moments before. Watching his still- covered crotch buck upward toward the ceiling, was keeping my just-quenched pussy fully excited still: I was just getting so curious and eager to see and feel precisely what lay beneath his trousers.

Next, I started kissing and licking my way down his body, stopping for a while to concentrate on kissing and licking his belly button. When he twitched, squirmed, and moaned beneath my lips on his navel, I knew that I was on the right track, and I decided that it was time to move further down his body, to finally see, feel, and taste what I truly lusted for.

By now, I simply could no longer resist feeling that obvious big bulge in his trousers, so I rubbed my fingertips and palm over him, right through the fabric of his trousers. It was quickly apparent that my rubbing his pants was not satisfactory to either us. I knew what we both wanted, both needed, now. So I slowly, teasingly unbuckled his belt, and as I did, my fingers continued to feel his growing bulge underneath.

With his belt unfastened, I now released the tiny metal clasp holding together the waist-band of his trousers. I let the very tips of my fingers brush the fabric over the pulsing, straining tip of his cock-head. I was still not sure his organ was as big as I would like it to be, but it did feel huge against my fingers. I smiled. Maybe he would be as big as I wanted after all, and he would be THE one to finally fulfill my lifelong fantasy, of having a man's length and width completely fill me up. I'd been so let down by the handful of men I've bedded, and especially by my first husband, so many times before--did I dare to hope that THIS man would be different? His tongue had already shown him to be very specially talented, but did I DARE to hope that the rest of his equipment would be superbly skilled, as well? I only knew that I couldn't wait one MINUTE longer, to find out for sure: WAS his cock as big, and as talented, as I now dreamed, as I now hoped, that he was? Only one way to find out for sure. So I now slowly unzipped his trousers, and he raised his ass off of his bed, to let me slide his pants down his legs, and past his feet, where his trousers softly fell to the floor beyond the foot of his bed. As I removed his pants, I noticed that he had white cotton briefs underneath, and I thought that they were not particularly sexy.

I think somewhere in the recesses of my mind, I made a mental note that he would look MUCH better in colorful silk boxers. But I quickly dismissed this thought, for I was not at ALL interested just then, in how dull his underwear was. I was only interested in finally setting my eyes upon, and getting my hands around, his long, bulging ridge, which was so clearly hinted at just BENEATH his plain, white briefs.

He raised his hips again, to let me slide his underwear off of him, and his briefs also softly fell to the floor.

To Be Continued...