A First Press of Olives

"Sweet one," Aidon said softly and brushed a lock of hair back from her face, dispelling all her fears with one caress. "I am more comfortable with you than I am with myself and I trust you implicitly. We said we wanted to know each other in every way possible, did we not?"

"Yes," she said, returning his smile.

"Then let us do so," he said, settling back. "This is between you and I. And I am yours, wife."

Her smile lit up her face and she flicked her loving gaze at him before returning her attention to her task. Persephone stroked his shaft and his hips rose, his legs part further. She closed her eyes and closed her mouth again over the head, the grip of her fingers working in time with her lips and tongue. Her other hand reached for a generous palmful of oil which she drizzled onto his scrotum and smoothed down the small bridge of flesh underneath it until she came to his opening. He groaned at her touch and she moved her fingers in a slow circle, softening the tight hole with warm oil and the pads of her fingers. Aidon thrashed as she pressed down and drew back to circle the gate and relax his entrance. She sucked at him and licked the underside of his shaft, feeling him sink into the mattress and loosen for her exploration.

He sighed and in that moment she pushed forward ever so slowly, her finger coated slick to ease her entry into his passage. A groan cracked in his throat when she delved deeper, her digit slipping beyond the outer ring of his anus and meeting gentle resistance on the other side. She wiggled her finger to spread the oil and he gasped, his mind utterly transported, his conscious thoughts incoherent, his responses orchestrated by her touch.

She licked a circle around the rim of his cockhead, and the ring clenched around her finger. He moaned again. Persephone pushed, slowly, patiently, until her digit was buried within him, and she marveled at how scalding hot his interior was, how his muscles spasmed uncontrollably around her invading finger. Her other hand cupped his sac and she descended again, taking his pulsing cock into her mouth.

The tip touched the back of her throat and Aidon shook, his body alight with new sensations. She sucked up on the withdrawal and descended again, his entrance clenching hard on her finger. Persephone remembered the ways he gave her pleasure with his hand and slowly curled her finger upward, meeting a soft resistance on the other side.

"Fuck," he cursed in pleasure, his breath hissing. He trembled like a leaf and dew beaded on his forehead. Aidon closed his eyes and pleasure radiated out from the place she stroked inside, the place he was not even aware existed, which turned all he perceived into a shifting vertigo of pleasure.

His sac tightened against her hand, drawing closer, and his shaft swelled and grew hotter against her lips. Persephone curled her finger again, beckoning him in pleasure in perfect rhythm with her mouth, her hands, her throat...

"Oh gods," he moaned roughly. "Persephone, I'm... I... I..." He bowed his back and light crackled behind his eyes.

Aidon's hands flew to her head and his fingers threaded into her hair. He roared, bucking his hips and filling her mouth with ropes of his seed, thrusting erratically beyond her lips. She swallowed his essence with a moan, gratified by his display of raw pleasure as he abandoned all care, all pretenses, swept away by the sensations she brought forth. His entrance clenched wildly around her finger as he came down, his limbs resting at last, splayed on the sheets.

She carefully withdrew from him and crept up the length of the bed to lie next to her husband. Aidoneus was insensate. Persephone looked him over, his body covered with a thin sheen of perspiration and olive oil as his breathing regained some rhythm. An accomplished smirk graced her features. "Well?"

"Fates, I've never felt so—" he stopped and looked at her, his face filled with worry. "Are you alright? I completely forgot myself when I... I didn't hurt you, did I?"

"No, you didn't hurt me, my love. I adored your reaction. Speaking of," she said rolling onto her side, "how did that feel?"

He whistled low and ran his hands through his hair. "Different. Fantastic, but different. Usually at my climax the sensations come directly from here," he said, lifting the head of his spent cock. "But this... it started from within and spread outward... spread everywhere."

"Do you feel less apprehension now about... reciprocating?"

Before she could react, Aidoneus reached for Persephone's waist and rolled her onto her back. He lay atop her, his long hair falling around them like a curtain and smiled broadly. "Certainly."

"You'll go slowly?" Her voice shook at what she'd awoken within him.

"It's impossible for me not to. I'm surprised I can still move after what you did to me." She laughed and he pulled away from her to prop her up on a second pillow, raising her hips into the air and opening her thighs. Laughter ceased. His smile faded and his eyes darkened with lust at what lay before him. "It seems you enjoyed that as much as I did," he muttered, swiping a finger through her swollen, glistening folds.

"I did..." She shivered at his cool touch and her areola tightened into hardened peaks. Her pert breasts caught his attention and he dipped his finger experimentally in the kantharos of oil beside them. He mimicked her, coating his fingers and rubbing his palms together as she had to warm it. His hands went straight to her breasts, lifting them from underneath to squeeze the ivory mounds of flesh, pushing them together, circling them, pulling and pinching at her dusky nipples with gentle fingers. He loved the way they glistened with olive oil, reminding him of her arousal. He spread more oil across her stomach and hips, touching every inch of her skin, working it in, smoothing his hands all the way to her thighs and calves, then the soles of her feet.

He pushed his thick fingers into the spaces between her toes and she winced at the stretching before relaxing in pleasure, her tendons and muscles loosened enough for him to massage her feet from toe to heel. His strong hands gripped one ankle and kneaded the length of her calf and thigh before he set about to work on the other. Her head lolled to the side. She sighed, closing her eyes, her arms and shoulders sinking heavily as he methodically slackened the tension in her body.

Aidon splayed his hands along her hips and waist, rolling them over skin and muscle until they again rested on her breasts. He circled the softened tips slowly, raising them into tense peaks. Aidon moved over her and drew one into his mouth, tasting the warmth of the oil, then the sweetness of the flesh underneath. He alternated, pulling one peak to a stiff long point with thumb and forefinger as his tongue lashed at the other, then switched to sample its mate. By the time he was done, his wife was breathing raggedly beneath him, her eyes dilated and her chest rising and falling.

He licked a meandering trail down her stomach, pausing to dip into the well of her navel, then over the thatch of hair covering her mound. Aidon petted her lips without any oil, not wanting his wife's natural taste adulterated by a first press of olives. He wanted fruit, and honey, and salt.

His tongue followed the gentle stroke of his fingers, flattening as it swept over her folds, spearing when he delved inside to taste the nectar that had pooled at her opening. Her voice broke from her throat, and he swiped up again, slowly circling her bud with long, careful strokes. He waited until she was breathing hard and he her legs shook against either side of his head.

"Turn over," he whispered, his words a sultry heat against her aching flesh. She opened her eyes and languidly obeyed. Before she could settle on her stomach, he grabbed another pillow and pushed it under her, propping her up so high that she had to put the rest of her weight on her knees. Persephone gathered another soft pillow under her head for balance. Her back arched up, her sex protruded from between her legs and cool air nipped at her inflamed flesh.

"What are you—"

"Shh..." He hushed her and took in the view. Her fleshy outer lips were ripe and swollen, barely concealing the wet, pink ripples of her folds and the little hood that shielded her clitoris. Aidon dipped down, and she sighed in relief as his hot breath fanned across her labia. He speared his tongue pressing it against the taut source of her pleasure. She hissed and mewled in frustration when he backed away and sat up again, looking her over. Her bottom wiggled in the air and her thighs parted wider to encourage him to return to her tender nub. In doing so, she exposed the puckered entrance that was his ultimate goal— in her prone position, the little star crowning her delicious sex. The wanton scene before him sent a jolt straight to his loins.

Aidon delicately cupped her vulva with one hand. A knuckle ran down the seam and his middle finger unfurled to nestle into her enveloping folds. The digit flexed torturously over her aching bud. He responded as she responded, stilling every time she writhed or ground into his hand for more, and Persephone whimpered, held helplessly at the plateau of pleasure.

With his left hand intimately cupping her, he concentrated the other on the rounded curves of her rear, spreading a light sheen of oil across each cheek. He squeezed at the broad muscles underneath. She was still so tense, and leaned too much on her knees. He rubbed in a wide circle and patted at the glistening skin experimentally, feeling it heat up every time his hand met her rump. Persephone looked back at him curiously, her eyes half lidded.

Aidon brought his right hand back and swatted her rear. Her startled body ground her sex into his palm and he stroked her with soft caresses, her pained cry resolving into a moan. Instead of lifting away and letting the air cool the sting, he gripped and pressed the heat of it back into her, listening to her punctuated moans. His right hand landed again, pushing her forward with a cry and allowing no escape from the encroaching heat. His finger circled, calming her, transforming pain into pleasure.

A dull smack pelted her other cheek, the skin underneath his hand blossoming with fire. Again he stroked her aching sex, and again he kneaded the flesh of her rear until it softened in his hands. He repeated the smack and she melted under his splayed fingers. Aidon massaged through the throbbing skin and deep tissue below. She sank onto the pillows and surrendered to him. Her eyes remained shut and her breath came in ragged, shallow bursts against the sheets. Aidoneus knit his brow. "Persephone, did I—"

"No," she answered with a harsh whisper, silencing his worries before he could voice them. It wasn't the first time he'd ever spanked her, but when he had, it had been done playfully after coupling. This was the first time he'd used the force of his open hand in the midst of their pleasure to goad her on, to keep her heat rising. The palm wet with her juices had stilled, and she greedily pushed back against it. "Aidon, please... please..."

Her whispered entreaties made the corner of his mouth twitch into a grin. He lifted his palm from her vulva and came down to eye level with her sex. Aidon leaned his head to the side, kissing the full lips, taking in her scent and feeling the heat of her against his mouth. He circled her with his tongue then doubled back and forth through her folds, pausing to spear into her vaginal entrance before continuing on his path.

His heart beat out of his chest. He stood on the brink of unexplored territory and that knowledge sparked something deep within him. Persephone fisted the sheets in her hands and muffled her moan in the pillow when his lips reached the smooth rise of skin between her entrances. He rose along her seam and pulled her cheeks further apart, twirling his tongue along the puckered rim. She shook and shrieked with delight at the new sensation, and Aidon held his wife steady as he lathed the dark entrance before pulling back and reaching for a cupped handful of oil.

He followed the trail his tongue had made with the slick liquid and massaged the silken ridges with his fingertip. She contracted and softened at his ministrations, then swirled closer, closer to his goal. With his smallest finger coated with olive oil, she at last opened to him. The outer ring clenched around his invasion and his loins tightened, imagining that constricting ring and blinding hot chasm swallowing his engorged cock.

His brow furrowed. He knew his organ was a great deal thicker than his solitary finger, and the desire that overrode all else was his unwillingness to hurt her. She had taken great care while pleasuring him and he lighted on a way to do the same. His other hand settled immediately on her vulva and she loosened. He pushed inside her vagina with one finger and searched for the spongy ridges within. She wriggled, grinding between the thrust of each finger, one buried in her rectum, the other strumming the secret spot within her womanhood. His thumb rocked back and forth across her clitoris, sending sparks through her.

He released his little finger from her tight passage and saturated his index and middle finger with oil before returning. With his other hand, one finger joined the other already stroking the ridges within her channel. He steadily pushed in and out at the same time as two digits nudged at the back entrance.

"Aidon... Oh gods, Aidon..." He slowly worked one finger, then both in to her dark recesses, hearing her groan and repeat his name over and over against the pillow. At last they drove through, her depths clenching all around him, his knuckles now sliding past each other through the thin membrane that separated her passages.

He leaned over her, his hardened cock rubbing her thigh and giving him some relief when it touched her. "How does that feel?"

"S-so good," she slurred. He kissed her at the indent of her waist, then concentrated on the motion of his hands.

He worked them in tandem with each other, giving her no respite. As two fingers pushed into her womanhood, the two stretching her untried passage withdrew part way. As they re-entered, he pulled the sopping digits from her channel. Persephone was caught in the maelstrom of an endless cycle of penetration and withdrawal, neither ceasing, always filling, accompanied by the thumb pressed to her clitoris. She drifted on waves of pleasure and didn't care that she was practically howling as she grew closer. Her body wasn't under her control anymore— it was his, his to have, his to claim, his to fill, and her ultimate surrender sent her hurtling over the edge, screaming her husband's name, coating his hand anew in her nectar.

His fingers were squeezed tightly, crushed together, and he steadied her, leaning into her and over her as she bucked and thrashed underneath him. A final high-pitched cry ushered from her throat, then her body went limp. Her hair stuck to her back with a mixture of oil and ardor and she could only form one coherent, whispered sentence. "Please... please, I need you inside me."

He took care withdrawing both sets of fingers from her, then at the last moment took another cupped palmful of oil and slid a trail down between his fingers to fill and slick her insides. When his hand met his neglected cock to coat it and ease his entry he gasped, feeling the blood pounding through him as he slicked over head and shaft and foreskin, preparing himself for her.

She lay still, anticipating, and the combination of earth-shattering climax and continued wanting started to make her legs shake anew. His urgency had been tempered by his earlier orgasm, but his voice betrayed his desperate need to be within her— to break new ground and claim this last part of her. "I love you, Persephone. You'll tell me if—"

"Yes. I'll tell you." She wearily opened her eyes and gazed back at him. "I'm ready."

He looked down, his shaft held in one hand, his other rubbing a last coat of oil across the slackened entrance, the orifice opened and spasming from taut pleasure and careful preparation. He leaned forward, feeling another upwelling of his essence slick the head as it pressed against her, then into her. Ever so slowly, the tip passed the barrier.

It met resistance, and he steadied himself, willing himself to calm and be staid, despite the overwhelming desire to be within her all at once. She gasped as the head made contact with the inner ring, and tried to calm and accept the mass of him entering her. Persephone winced, squeezing her eyes shut.

"Sweet one?" He ground out.

"I'm alright."

"We can stop..."

"No..." She said between sharp breaths. "Don't. Not now."

Aidon let her adjust and the spasm of muscles around the head of his cock subsided. He pressed forward again, this time glacially slow. The air filling his lungs hissed in and out between clenched teeth, and he shook, his whole being concentrated on taking her as gently as possible. But he met with such great resistance as he slowly drove into her that he wavered between pressing on or ending their experiment with at least the satisfaction of trying. He was perhaps too large, or she was too small, and they would have to be content with that. Aidon looked down at his wife's face. She was so tense, her breath so shallow.

Every nerve he touched flamed to life, and the heady sensations made Persephone dizzy. She tried to relax and stop resisting, and then discovered something peculiar and wonderful. When she pushed back, it sent him deeper with less friction, and she took more of him in. The hidden secret of this pleasure lay in resistance— of meeting him equally. This was not, could not be an act of submission, and it only worked if she gave as he gave. She tried pushing back again and was sublimely rewarded. Pleasure bloomed all around the thickness of his cock entering her, a ring of fire warming her and spreading its light and heat throughout her being. She was so sensitive there that she could feel his pulse, his very heartbeat echoing inside her, carried through the heavy column of flesh and the vein that ran up its side.

He exhaled, feeling her clench around his cock— not in painful resistance but by drawing him in with the motions of her body— then the low, guttural moans from both that accompanied their joining. He pushed forward, ever slowly, ever gently, letting her stretch to accommodate his length, his girth, then stopped, realizing that he was at the hilt. His chest grazed her back and he leaned down close to her ear.

"Persephone..." Her name came out within a sharp moan and he considered asking her again if she were alright, if she hurt, if... if... but he could tell from the waves and heat and softness and tension enclosing and encircling his shaft that she cherished this act as much as he did. Pain existed simply because of the nature of the act, but it hovered just beyond the borders of her pleasure. She contracted and expanded, fluttered around him in every direction. He closed his eyes, blissful and triumphant in the realization that he was buried within the last untouched place she had to offer, his pleasure held in taut vibration by the incredible pressure. "Persephone..." Aidon repeated her name and smiled. "Oh my love, you feel incredible."

She shook, her body drifting on a sea of pleasure eclipsing pain, the corona of her passage stretched around him the only reminder that it could have been more so. But their preparation had been lengthy, and their union exquisitely gentle. She leaned in the direction of his voice and he surged forward, capturing her mouth and pushing even deeper. Their voices melded between their lips and he withdrew halfway with just as much care as when he entered.