The Evolution of Sex Pt. 02

This is the second part of the Evolution of Sex. John and Eleanor are much freer with each other tonight, after a week has passed.

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It was a beautiful summer day, and I had thrown the parlor windows open. The organdy curtains floated serenely in the breeze. I had dressed my hair myself this morning, and the light wind tugged the a few curly wisps free of the simple twist.

It had been a week since my wedding night, and I was slowly becoming accustomed to sleeping in the same bed as someone else. John and I talked each night before we fell asleep. He hadn't tried to make love to me again, but now and then he would catch hold of my hand briefly, lay a hand on my neck, or kiss me gently. These small touches sent my insides fluttering with happiness and nerves.

I found myself thinking more and more about that night, especially during mindless tasks like the needlework I was currently engaged in. True, it had been painful, but the memory of the pain was slowly fading, replaced by the other memories of how it had felt to kiss him, the heat of his naked body pressed against mine. The feel of his cock, warm and solid and silky in my hand.

A surge of arousal shot through me suddenly, and I felt my nipples tighten against the fabric of my chemise. I glanced down at the pale blue silk that covered my chest, making sure that they weren't showing. I sighed and set down the embroidery. Tonight, I thought, perhaps we would try again.

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"How was your day?" I asked nonchalantly, watching John strip down to a pair of soft linen breeks. He hadn't slept in just his shirt again—resisting temptation I supposed. He also didn't allow servants to undress him, peculiar in a man of his station. He cast me a brief smile over his shoulder.

"Fine. I read. Quite a bit. Then Sandringham wanted to go out hunting, so we did. In short, uneventful as usual," he finished, climbing into the big bed beside me. He heaved a sigh and settled in. "How did you pass the day?"

"Oh, the usual. Needlework, reading, staring out the window. Mrs. Randall came to visit from Greenwood. She proceeded to advise me in the proper running of a household. I proceeded to tell her that Mrs. Hennessey is far more capable than me, and far too impatient to deal with my meddling."

John chuckled, laughing at my impudence and the redoubtable Mrs. Hennessey, our housekeeper. We

lapsed into a companionable silence.

Hesitantly, I inched a hand over and slipped it into his own. Surprised, he turned his head to look at me. I smiled slightly, and he tugged me toward him. I settled my head into the hollow between his shoulder and his neck, and his breath ruffled my hair.

"What's this, hmm?" he asked. He sounded amused, but I heard the underlying quiver in his voice and his arm tightened around my shoulders.

"Well, I was thinking..."

"Yes?"

"I...wanted to...maybe try again."

A tremor of laughter ran through him.

"You do? Well, I must say I'm quite pleased at that sentiment, Eleanor."

Still shy, I stretched my neck up and brushed my lips against his jaw, a question. He answered with a kiss on my hand, and suddenly, I found myself on top of him. His breath was coming shorter than before, and his heart was beating heavily under my hand.

I stroked a hand down his chest, brushing his nipple with a finger. A tiny shiver went through him, and he pulled my head down and kissed me. A burst of fire surged through me, and I gripped his shoulders tightly. He nipped my neck gently and kissed the spot to soothe the bite. My own breath was coming a bit shorter now.

John flipped me onto my back with one hand and pressed his hips down on mine. I felt a hand slide up my thigh, under my night gown, and rest on my hip. I sat up and pulled the gown off, feeling bold and free.

He ran his eyes over my body hungrily, and bent his head to my breast. I gasped as his mouth closed on my nipple, and pressed his head to my chest. The sensation set tiny jolts of heat right between my legs, and I parted them unconsciously. I felt his mouth move over my ribcage, his large palms running up and down my thighs. I settled my hands on his shoulder blades, and he rested his dark head on my stomach.

The lull in our activities was somehow peaceful, as though a connection had sprung up between us. He stroked my leg almost absentmindedly, making his was higher and higher. A sudden pressure between my legs made me jump. He had slipped his middle finger inside of me, and his thumb was making small circles on my clit. I heard a soft whimper, and realized that I had made the sound. John kissed my stomach, still crooking his finger inside of me. His fingertip pushed quickly at a spot deep inside, and I arched my back at the sensation.

"Am I doing this right?" he breathed, laughing.

"Yes. Oh, yes."

He laughed quietly and rose up above me again. I frantically pulled at the laces of his breeches, and he kicked them off onto the floor. I took his cock into my hand again, just as I had a week ago, and stroked rhythmically up and down the shaft. He groaned softly and closed his eyes, pushing his hips into my hand. John moved suddenly, trying to enter me, but I laid a hand on his chest to stop him.

He cocked his head at me, questioning.

"I want to try something different."

"And what is that?" he asked, struggling for dignity. We both grinned at his efforts—dignity was hard while a woman had your cock in hand.

"Roll over," I said. He did.

Rather shyly, I swung my leg over him and straddled his hips. His eyes lit with understanding, and he reached up to run his fingertips over my breasts. I shivered and moaned slightly. I tried not to think about pain as I guided his throbbing sex into my own.

John heard my sudden gasp, and looked concerned.

"Does it hurt very much?"

"Not nearly as much," I replied, breathless. Almost experimentally, I moved my hips up and down once, and was surprised at how wonderful it felt. I was stretched to the limit, desperately full, and it was incredible.

I braced my hands on his chest and rocked my hips slowly. The feeling of his shaft sliding in and out of me made me moan in ecstasy. I closed my eyes and threw my head back, moving faster and faster, abandoning myself to sensation. I felt his hands circle my waist, pushing me up and down, guiding my momentum.

A tingling pressure began to glow deep inside of me, sparking wherever his skin touched mine. Completely unselfconsciously, I slipped a hand down and rubbed my clit, moaning as the glow slowly rose to a bonfire, searing through my blood and causing a flush to rise to my fair skin.

"God, don't stop," John said. I didn't. Suddenly, the fire rose to a peak, and I leaned forward, frantically grinding myself against his pelvis. Out of nowhere, a blinding explosion of sensation overtook me, radiating outward from my sex. I let out a loud moan, shuddering violently as I collapsed onto his chest. As I tightened around him, he groaned and came with me, emptying himself into my womb and sinking his teeth into my shoulder. Each contraction of my inner walls milked him further, until we were both spent and shaking, arms wrapped around each other. A fine sheen of sweat drenched our bodies, and we stuck together slightly.

He whispered my name with a sweet tenderness that made me melt.

Sometime later, when he was finally soft and quiescent inside of me, I rolled off of him and sighed.

"That was..."

"Incredible," he finished for me, pulling me to him once more. I settled my head against his chest, listening to his heartbeat slow. The burst of adrenaline slowly ebbed from my veins, leaving me exhausted and elated.

We had kicked away the quilt in our frenzy, and we left it off, our heat bringing us all the warmth we needed. When the maid came in the next morning to draw our drapes, I cracked one eye at her, raised my eyebrows dismissively, and closed it again, snuggling closer to John and dropping off into sleep once more. She tiptoed out of the room and shut the door, leaving us alone once more to sleep off our frenzy.

I had never been so contented in all my life.