The Evolution of Sex Pt. 03

Tonight, something new is discovered, and the possibility of deeper emotion is discussed.

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"Not tonight, John. Please. I'm so sore," I told him, half-laughing. We were lying in bed together, the candlelight casting flickering shadows across our naked bodies. His hands were trailing all over me, but I was exhausted. We had made love every night for an entire week. While I enjoyed it (a huge understatement), I was also newly deflowered, my sex not yet accustomed to the harsh, demanding pressure of his. I was sore, and I had dark fingerprints on my hips. He didn't know about those—I hoped he wouldn't find out. John was a great one for berating himself.

His roaming hands stopped, and he rolled away. "I'm sorry, Eleanor. I should have thought about that."

I smiled. "Forgiven." I leaned over and snuffed out the candle by the bedpost.

"I want you to know something," said John after a few minutes, his voice sounding abruptly in the dark.

"Hmm?" I said muzzily, feigning sleepiness. I was, in fact, wide awake, and highly aware of his fiery warmth so close to me.

"I don't only make love to you for myself. I...I love seeing you happy. And any pleasure that I can give you, in any way, makes me...very, very happy."

I let out my breath in a small sigh, and felt my heart flutter a little. I had known John for a total of three weeks, and been in his bed for two. Could he really feel this for me so soon? Boldly, I asked the question that was hanging in my mind.

"John, are you trying to say you love me?"

He paused a moment before answering. "Truthfully, I don't know. I've only known you three weeks," he added, echoing my earlier thoughts. "As of now, I would say that I respect you. And I do care for you, and for your happiness. I would like to love you, to be in love with you. I think it will come, in time."

At first, pondering his words, I was a little hurt, although I couldn't pinpoint exactly why. It was only to be expected that he wasn't head over heels in love with me. And to be honest, I didn't love him either. But he was right—I knew it would come.

I reached over and laced my fingers through his. "Thank you. For your honesty."

I felt his smile in the dark.

"Eleanor—"

"You can call me Nora, if you like. It's what everyone at home calls me."

"Nora. Norrraaaa," he teased, rolling the r's and making me giggle. "I like it. It suits you."

"You were saying?"

"Well, I would like to try something. I could still please you, but I wouldn't have to hurt you. And I was hoping that you would...agree?"

I hesitated. I had no inkling of what he could mean, although I knew in what sense he meant it. I was torn between apprehension at whatever it might be, and my lust for him. Lust won.

"Alright. What is it?"

In reply, he moved over me and kissed me thoroughly. Then, before I could ask more questions, he began to kiss his way down my body, starting first with nips at my collarbone and the hollow of my neck, moving down to the tight, thin skin on my chest, and then to my breasts, lovingly caressing each nipple with his tongue. I let out a ragged sigh and my hands settled on his shoulders, fingers lightly stroking the rounded bones.

He moved down again, fingers still toying with my nipples, and placed small, swift kisses all over my ribs and stomach, making me giggle and squirm; I was extremely ticklish. I felt him chuckle and he moved even lower, running his teeth over my hipbone and raising gooseflesh all over my body. And still he moved lower.

I felt his warm breath stir the slightly damp curls between my legs, and sat bolt upright, startled with sudden understanding.

"John!"

"Shh," he said soothingly. "Please. Let me do this. I want to."

"Yes, but...are you sure?"

"Quite," he said, his voice steady, but I could hear the undercurrent of lust and amusement mingled in his tone. Slowly, I lay back down against the pillows and let him continue. His hands, calloused from years of riding horses, moved up and down my thighs, stroking, exploring, stopping here and there at the back of my knee, the curve of my hip, the hollow of my ankle. I could feel the arousal building up deep within me, like a slow flame.

Then, without warning, he pushed my thighs apart. I resisted the impulse to clamp them shut, forced down my natural modesty, and let him do as he would. And his lips closed around me.

Instantly, my fears were gone. In their place was a burst of pleasure that took up my entire being. He spread me open and licked every fold, leaving no spot untouched. When he reached my clit, I groaned softly and tangled my fingers in his hair.

I felt powerful, completely in control. Shyness gone, I moved him where I wanted him, showing him where to go with my fingers, encouraging him with moans. I clasped my hand over his when he reached up to rest on my breast, and shivered when he rolled my nipple between his fingers.

Once more, I felt that slow, simmering heat building in my center. It seemed to start in my toes, and work its way all the way up to the roots of my hair, suffusing my body with a hot flush of lust. I bucked my hips against his face, pressing his head hard into my sex. Suddenly, I felt a different pressure, and moaned loudly as he moved his tongue inside of me. He replaced his mouth on my clit with his fingers, and thrust into me with his tongue, probing and teasing and creating such a burst of sensation that I couldn't hold on—

And then I broke, my body shuddering and bucking against the bed. He kept licking me, his tongue like a red hot wire against my clit, sending shockwaves of pleasure surging through my blood. I couldn't make a sound, but could only gasp raggedly as my fingers scrabbled at the sheets. It seemed like hours, but I finally came down, my limbs turning to rubber, my mind relaxing into liquid contentment.

I must have fallen asleep, because when I opened my eyes again, the moonlight streaming through our window was much brighter. I glanced at John lying next to me, and noticed that he was twitching slightly in his sleep. Curious, I sat up to watch him more closely, but in doing so I disturbed the blankets. They slipped past his hips and revealed the subject matter of his dreams quite clearly.

Grinning, I crawled down between his legs. Whether it was left over sexual fervor from earlier, or boldness in the dark, I had no qualms as I took his throbbing member into my mouth. It felt strange, and rather alien. The skin of his head was slick and smooth as glass, while his shaft was softer, like velvet. I sucked lightly on the head for a moment, and then drew my tongue up and down the length of him, enjoying the taste and the smell and the hardness under my hands. I felt him wake with a jerk after a few moments, but I didn't stop, and he didn't try to stop me. Instead, he fell back with a small chuckle that quickly turned into a moan as I took him deep into my mouth.

It was difficult fitting him so far in. My throat wasn't accustomed to...well, cock. But I kept at it, bobbing my head up and down, stroking him with my hands and fluttering my tongue constantly. Tentatively, I brushed a finger lightly across his scrotum, and he groaned suddenly, stiffening under my touch. I cupped his balls in my hand and stroked them with my thumb, still sucking on him, and he began to thrust into my mouth, deeper and deeper. Just as I thought I might choke, I felt his release, and his hot, salty seed filled my mouth. Startled, I swallowed it all, and when it was over, I gave his hipbone a lingering kiss and sighed.

His legs were still trembling as he pulled me up next to him. He kissed me gently and pulled me close, nestled into his arms.

"Thank you."

I laughed. "It was your idea."

"Yes, and just now I'm feeling quite the genius."

"I'm sure you're not the first person who's thought of that," I chided, amused at the breathlessness in his voice.

John started laughing then, and he laughed for at least five minutes, shoulders shaking with mirth.

"What?" I demanded, baffled.

"It 's just that, well, I had this thought..."

"What?" I repeated.

"Well, if something new is created, the inventor will put a patent on it, no? So it just struck me..."

I saw where he was going, and I started to giggle too, rolling my eyes at him.

"Yes, I think you should put a patent on that particular act. Since you do it so, so well."

He laughed once more, pulled me close, and fell asleep, in that post-coital daze that men fall into so easily. Sighing in contentment, I relaxed against him and drifted off.