Superf***er Vol. 04

I was so enamored of her beauty--her face, her tranquility, the beauty of her hair, her lovely breasts flushed in excitement--that she became self-conscious of me looking at her. She pretend to hide behind her forearm. I thrust my penis all the way in, then leaned forward, laying on top of her, and kissed her. "I'm sorry if I'm making you self-conscious," I whispered, "but at this moment you are the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."

"No I'm not," she protested, but kissed me appreciatively. I kept thrusting; her kiss broke as a wave of especially pleasurable sensation washed over her. I straightened up--and the chair tipped forward, almost spilling her out. We both cried out in unison as I caught her, but clearly the chair would not be stable enough once I really started tearing it up.

"Let's move," she said. I agreed, pulling out and letting her get up. She moved to the bed, but rather than climbing in, she crawled on, resting on all fours, and raising her butt towards me right at the edge of the bed. It was just the right height--I slipped straight in past her labia and picked up where I'd left off. She rocked backwards as I pushed forwards, intensifying the action of my thrusts. I placed my hands on her haunches; her glutes were tight, and rippled slightly with every carnal collision. I stroked her back gently, and of course I could see her red hair--but I missed not seeing her beautiful face. She must have liked it dogstyle, though, or she wouldn't have offered it, so I kept with it.

With her assisting, my thrusts became more productive and my arousal rose. That in turn drove me to thrust harder, driving inexorably towards orgasm. Her back was nice, but it wasn't what I wanted to see when I came. So I pulled out, rolled her over and put her in the middle of the bed, and penetrated while lying on top of her. There we were, face to face and genital to genital. We looked each other in the eye, while her legs were bent and out to the side, her pussy stuffed full of my dick. I felt a closeness to her the likes of which I had never felt to a human--and neither of us shied away.

My dick might have been happy exploring her for hours, but my nuts were impatient. They were ready to do their job, and becoming increasingly insistent about it. So I raised up a bit higher, moved my knees for better leverage, and got ready to drive down the home stretch. My pace picked up as I fucked my way towards orgasm. She put her hands on my shoulders to steady herself in the face of my insistent thrusts. She bit her lip; I was fucking her so hard, the size of my dick may have been uncomfortable--but she was bound and determined to give me whatever I wanted. That was so sexy...my nuts tensed up, readying for the order.

I was going to cum any second. Time to give Amy the one pleasure I'd been withholding up to now--I reached down and lay one finger on the side of her clitoris and my thumb on the other. The pleasurable currents now were running straight through her most sensitive area, just as her pussy was being pounded at maximum overdrive. Her excitement, which had been steady, began shooting towards the sky. I watched her excitement shoot through the roof, and as much as I enjoyed watching, I couldn't hold myself back any longer. I climaxed; pushed in as far as I could go, I locked up in a feeling of unbelievable pleasure as my nuts did their work. I kept my fingers in place, thought, and the pleasurable tingle kept pushing Amy. I may have been frozen by a mind-blowing orgasm, but she was so close herself that she kept rocking her hips back and forth on my staff. Just about the time my second spurt ended her first shudder began, as our orgasms overlapped.

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When I woke the next morning, Amy was curled up in my arm, her arm on my chest, still sleeping. She made me feel protective, and it felt good to feel like she was relying on me to keep her safe. Our species doesn't have the same degree of gender dimorphism yours does; women and men are fairly equal in size and strength. I used to wonder about how a smaller, weaker female would be sexually selected, but I understood perfectly at that moment--the way she curled up to me made me want to fuck her again, right now. I suppose this adaptation, which surely led to a lot more sex, compensated for the hit-or-miss nature of reproduction in a menstruating creature. Among our kind, where male sperm trigger ovulation, copulation must more reliably produces offspring and so less sex is needed. I wonder how many of my peers would feel gypped if they knew how human mating worked.

Amy stirred, waking but remaining cuddled up with me. Eventually, as she woke further, she rolled to the side and we spooned. We were in no hurry; our leisurely lovemaking was as much about personal intimacy as sex. She was so gorgeous and he body was so hot, eventually I could not help but fill her with another load of semen.

We got up, had breakfast, and walked idly around Manhattan just enjoying each others' company. We both knew we had but a few hours to appreciate each other before I needed to be at the airport; it was bittersweet for us both. She insisted on coming with me to the airport; I'd been in lots of airports, but this was the first time I was one of the men saying sad farewells to lovely young lovers before one of them had to leave for elsewhere. I actually felt a tear as I went through security alone. What was it about her, that had touched me so deeply in such a short time?

My false papers worked at the Zurich airport, and I took care of my banking business. Having been stuck in the US for so long, I took advantage of being in Europe again--after Zurich it was Geneva, then Paris and London. My fear was getting backin, since US customs would be much more aware of the fine nuances of a genuine passport than those overseas. Eventually I did made it back in to the states, however, by flying in to Toronto, taking a cab to Niagara Falls, and crossing the Rainbow Bridge on foot, appearing like an ordinary tourist and thus receiving no more than a cursory glance at my papers. I sat in a hotel room in Buffalo, knowing I was just eight hours from Amy, wanting to see her--but knowing I couldn't. I imagined dozens of private eyes hired by baby-mamas trying to track me down through the foundation; I would never ask Amy to lie, so the only way to keep from being discovered was if she really didn't know where I was. It was very depressing.

For her part, Amy did her job well, and her emails were strictly professional, except maybe for the fact that she would sometimes ask if I would be in New York again soon. That, and a quick note she sent some six weeks later telling me that she thought she had had a miscarriage. Having shallow sexual encounter after sexual encounter just served to remind me how much I missed being close to someone. First with Anna down in the Gulf and now Amy, I found a human that I had feelings for--but that only made it hurt more when I had to stay away from them, too. And the more I longed for relationship, the more difficult it became to suit up every night and seek yet another one-night stand. At the outset, fathering an army of half-humans seemed to be most fun I'd had to do on your planet. As each encounter weighted on my loneliness, I began to wonder if in fact it might not be the most difficult.