Always Turns Up Ch. 07

I made suitable noises. She giggled. Then bent and took me in her mouth.

She had always been good at that. The first time she did it was the first time I had it done to me. So whatever beginners mistakes she might have made were more than compensated for by the shockingly wonderful feelings that having your cock sucked for the first time give you. But she was a quick learner, and attentive to my response, so every time was wonderful. This was no exception.

She got me hard again with just a few soft strokes of her hand and simply sucking on my tip. She knew I was watching of course, and looked up at me as she sucked. I could see the amusement, the fun, in her eyes. She dipped a little, taking me deeper, and raised her head again, still watching me. She did it again, sucking hard, and I groaned, so she kept sucking for a while. When she came up she held my cock in her hand, but sat up, and looked at my face as she stroked me gently.

We still had not said a word. We didn't need to. She came up to kiss my mouth, still stroking me, and I took her in my arms again, pulling her down beside me. This was another old habit, another thing we did as teens. She had told me once, when we had become used to being naked together, that it still thrilled her to be touched beneath her clothes when dressed, or half dressed. That a hand underneath her tee shirt, or sliding down into her underpants was exciting in a different way to being caressed without clothes. It was how we had done things before, and it was special. Since I liked doing that I had always been conscious of her pleasure in it, and often incorporated it in our sex life. Now at last I could do it again. For the first time as we kissed and caressed I slid my hand beneath her camisole top, up over the stomach and onto her naked breast. She made a pleasurable murmuring sound, and gripped my bottom harder. Her nipple was hard, her breast was soft but still firm. Not perhaps exactly as it was the first time I did that, under her school blouse, but not that different. Still wonderful to feel.

Her breasts were not large. A reasonable handful, but not heavy. My preference in breasts had of course been partly programmed by the first ones I had kissed and felt and seen. Hers. So of course I thought them perfect. I thought everything about her was perfect.

I pushed her top up with my other hand to expose her other nipple, and after a second to admire its appearance, as pretty as I remembered, I tasted it. Sweet, and warm, and just perfectly Penny. As I sucked and licked around it, squeezing her other breast and rolling her nipple between finger and thumb, I could slide my other hand down her side, over her hip, over her silk panties, and take a hold of her pussy.

She writhed. I liked the way she moved. I like the way she made a deep humming sound. I rubbed my middle finger on the soft material, and could feel her lips opening beneath it as I pressed the already damp cloth back into her. He opened her legs further, and put her hand on my head, pressing me harder against her breast. I knew that the time was right. My hand slipped up over the mons, felling the springy hair beneath the cloth, up to the bare skin of her stomach, and then down again, under the elastic, under the warm silk, across her warm bare flesh, into the little forest of curls. My middle finger followed the line of her slit, over her clitoris, pressing the lips apart, the tip coming to rest just on the entrance to her depths, her bushy mound filling my palm.

She had gone still as I did that, her neck arched back, and not breathing. I held my hand still, poised to enter her, holding her whole sex, possessing her. She flexed slightly, breathing out gently as she pushed a little downwards with her bottom, and then lifting her knees a fraction as she breathed in, opening herself further. I kissed her nipple again, and began to move my hand in a slow, small, circle. The first joint of my middle finger was pushing on her clit. My palm and other fingers moved her mons and her labia gently. Waiting for the moment.

She breathed out slowly, a slight throaty sound this time, her in-breath a little faster. Her back arched a little, and she breathed out again, this time a definite quiet moan, and a trace of a whimper as she drew breath in, her hips twitching twice. Another long breath out, this time with a definite throaty gasp, and then a groan and a much faster intake of breath.

It was what I was waiting for. I slid my hand down, curling my finger, pressing into her, middle finger pushing inside her, pressing up to hit her G-spot.

With a huge gasp she clasped her thighs together for a moment, as I had expected, and then opened them and arched her back again, letting me move my hand. Her legs shook as I pushed up her top and sucked the other nipple, her hands gripped the mattress and she said the first word since we had started kissing. "Oh, god, yessss!"

I knew that like me she had thrown off her religious upbringing a long time before. That primal expression was from a deeper past, an emotional level that was beyond the rational. She only said it when she was overwhelmed. I grinned for a second as I carried on pressing the heel of my hand on the top of her slit, pulsing against her clit, and rapidly pistoning my finger in and out, curling it up inside behind the bone to hit the place that I knew would drive her over the edge.

It worked just as well as it had on her eighteenth birthday.

This time as she came she grabbed me and pulled me up from her breast to kiss her. She wrapped her legs around one of mine and ground herself hard against my thigh, crushing my hand between us, and then rocked back and forth rapidly, taking another fast orgasm and clasping me to her as she ran out of breath and shook in my embrace.

It took a little while for her to recover. I held her still, and caressed her back, and kissed her shoulders, and listened to her breathing as it steadied. Eventually she opened her eyes and looked at me warmly. Still half stoned by her dopamine rush, her smile was soft, her gaze a little unfocused. "How ya doin' Lovergirl?" I asked.

Her smile flickered wider and she said huskily "Oh, Sean." She shook her head a tiny amount, still smiling. "Oh, Sean..."

She kissed me. Long, soft languorous kisses, that slowly became more ardent. She rolled me on my back and sat on me again, straddling my naked cock with her thighs clamped against mine, and sat upright. She reached down to take the bottom edge of her camisole and pulled up, raising her arms above her head, revealing her breasts, flexing her body back to give me the most magnificent view. I wanted to touch them, to suck on those hard and darkened nipples, but she rocked back onto her feet, and stood up on the bed. Her head touched the roof. In fact she had to lean forward quite a bit, making her breasts swing a little. Very impressive. I had half expected that gravity would have won out over the years. And she had two children, but they were still firm and her nipples pointed out, not down. Not quite as I remembered, but still stunning.

When she started to push down her French knickers I was still stunned. The first time I had seen her naked she had a very small bush, very fine haired, mostly straight, with a light curl. Her hair had been dark, darker then her head, but not thick, and had not obscured her lips. I had felt that, like me, she was hairier now than when we were teenagers, or even in our twenties, so the sight of her magnificent triangle of luxurious fur was not a surprise. I suspected she had trimmed a little, but it was womanly, superb, a reminder of the meaning of Mons Veneris, the peak of the goddess of love.

She had to stand on one leg to slip off the pants, and then raise the other to finally be free of them. Finally fully naked, she stood above me, one foot on each side of me, so her legs were slightly open. Giving me the most fantastic point of view.

I said "Wow."

She smiled. She stepped forward, so her feet were now at my shoulders, and I could look straight up at her. I could barely believe it. She remembered.

On our third anniversary, the day after Valentine's Day, (we used to joke about being late for romance) I had slid down the bed underneath her as she knelt on all fours above me. I kissed her breasts, and then her tummy, and then her bush, and then she pushed down on my mouth and sat back, so my tongue could enter her, and I reached up and squeezed each breast in my hands, and licked her until she came. She had leaned back to reach my cock and stroke it, a little, but I had concentrated on her, drinking her juices, worshipping her sex. I had asked her to do it again many times. She enjoyed the sensation and the control, the power of it, as I enjoyed the depth of intimacy, buried in her thighs, buried in her hair, buried in her depths.

She lowered herself onto my mouth, and I reached up for her nipples. She was very wet. She was delicious. She rocked slightly, letting me lick her from clit to the point below the opening of her vagina. I put my hands on her bottom and pulled her down, pushing my head up, so my nose was into her slit, tip on the button of her pleasure, and tongue licking deeply as I could inside. Although her thighs were clamped on my ears I heard the gurgling moan she let loose. I knew that sound.

I rubbed her clit with my nose, then moved so I could tongue it and suck on it, humming as I did so. Her hands came down to grab my head as she opened her legs wider, and rocked and jerked. She cried out. "Oh, god, oh Sean, oh god, oh yes!"

She got even wetter as she came. I licked her gently, and she groaned and fell to the side, gasping, twitching, and reaching for me. We ended up lying the other way round on the bed, feet towards the pillows, curled around each other again, but his time she wasn't so dazed. This time she was still turned on, and I knew that mood as well. Now we were naked, and she was rubbing her whole body against me, her hand on my shaft, stroking me, and her other hand buried in my hair as she kissed me strongly. I half expected her to mount me, ride me, come again on top of me, reaching behind herself to caress my balls as I thrust up into her, coming up into her as she clasped me tight in her own orgasm, as we had often done.

But not this time. She had moved to get on top of me, and pressed her naked stomach against mine, my cock against her slit, ready to rock forwards and then press back, to enter her. But as she rocked a little she lifted herself on her arms, and looked down at me and she slowed down. She looked down between her legs at my cock and her pussy lips spread by the shaft. We had done that quite a few times in the past. We used to do that before we finally took the last step and she let me enter her. She brought her face down close to mine and said softly "Sean, do you remember the first time? The first time you were inside me?"

"Yes. Of course. It was unforgettable."

"You took my virginity. Take me like that again. Take me again the way you did then."

I kissed her, and rolled her over, onto her back. I knelt between her legs, and lifted them up, opening her a little. She lay back, with her arms above her head, and opened them a little more. I could shift forwards, my knees wide, so her bottom was cradled between my thighs, and my balls touched her open pussy. My cock was pointing practically straight up, so the root of it was pressing against her clit, and I rocked gently. She sighed.

She flexed her hips, to rub herself against me, and I pressed my cock down with my hand, so she rubbed up and down the underneath of the shaft a little. And then she did what she had done so long before. Her right hand came down to touch my cock, and I was able to free both hands to stroke her body. She flexed a few more times, pressing my shaft against her wet and open lips, and then wiggled back a few inches, so that instead of the shaft it was the tip of my cock that touched her there.

The first time she did that was such a surprise that I had frozen in place, and she had just smiled and said, "It is okay. That feels nice. I want to do this."

This time she she smiled again as I held myself still so that she could slowly rub up and down her slit, coating me with her slippery wetness. "That feels nice." She murmured.

And just like the first time she pushed the end down a little more to lodge at the opening. She flexed a tiny amount so that it pressed into her just a millimetre. I held still again. She took a few soft deep breaths as she felt my tip poised, her soft lips around it, and she said the words. "Take me Sean, I want you inside me. Take me."

I couldn't refuse the first time. I wasn't going to refuse now.

It was perhaps a little easier to press into her this time, to sink my shaft inside her, pushing in until I could not go deeper.

She drew her legs up and wide, and reached her arms out for me. For a half second I paused, looking at her. She was naked, her hair in a mess around her head on the mattress, her arms reaching for me, her nipples hard and dark, her legs spread. She was open to me in every way. My cock was coated with her wetness, surrounded by her heat, the shaft piercing her hair surrounded lips, the pink flesh clinging to it as I had drawn it out a little. She was mine to take, mine to claim, mine in every fibre of her being.

I took her. I plunged into her embrace and into her body, into her scent and the soft cries she made, into the arms and legs that wrapped me and the lips that sought mine, the tongue that sought mine, the taste of her, the feel of her skin from head to toe, naked, exposed, vulnerable and trusting, giving herself to me. I took her. Deep and hard and fast, and strong, crushing her to me, pounding her body as her cries drove me on. I felt the tension in my thighs, the unmistakeable clenching of my balls as they prepared to shoot my come into her, and in that moment I slowed, and pulled up, and looked down on her, and she was beautiful.

Her hair had been a mess, now it was a wild disaster area. He eyes were sparkling again, and she was grinning when she wasn't gasping for breath. Her body was thrusting against me, her breasts rocking back and forth, her hands digging into my flesh, and she started making a sound that I knew preceded another orgasm, one she only made on her back when I was in her. I picked up her rhythm, slightly quickening the pace, pushing her on, and looking into her eyes, seeing her rising uncontrollable wave of pleasure, feeling her tighten on my shaft, sensing her movements becoming frantic, knowing she was giving me this, giving herself, giving me her soul as well as her body. She started to come, her body arching, her limbs stiffening, and the grip on my cock intensified. I let myself go.

It was noisy. It was amazing. And at the very end, when I finally came, I was still. Frozen for a long second as my cock twitched and I felt my balls draining, and she clutched me and cried out, and I was surrounded by her, lost in her. She was all around me, her smell her taste her sounds her touch, enveloping me, wrapped in her flesh, her limbs, and her love.

I knew it. I was loved. It was like being home. Here in her arms, in her body, in her sparkling gaze and devastating smile.

We rolled over, on our sides, me still hard, still inside her, our bodies joined but leaning a little back from each other so we could breathe. She moved her leg so I could push in deeper, and I caressed her as we kissed. Both of us laughed a little, but words didn't seem necessary.

I stayed hard for a surprisingly long time, as we caught our breath, and began to kiss again. We had kissed so much in the last hour that it was amazing to realise that I could still not get enough of her lips. Or her breasts, or her pussy.

When we were very young we had both been too inhibited, too well brought up, to use language like that. Sex had been taboo. We had no names for parts. That had changed in time, and now no doubt we both had a wide vocabulary. Penny had used various terms in the stories she told the day before, without blushing or any comment from me. But here and now I was again almost shy to think of her in those terms. I was inside her, inside Penny, not just in her pussy or cunt. And it wasn't just my cock. It was me. Her breasts were not crude tits, but beautiful perfect centres of attention and pleasure. I could no more think of asking her to suck my prick than to think of asking her to strangle a kitten, but I knew that if I just moved slightly, presented my body at the right angle, she would happily, delightedly, take me in her mouth. The idea made me twitch, and she felt it inside her, and laughed again, and then said "Oh Sean. That was lovely. Thank you."

"Thank you, Penny. That was... " I was speechless. I kissed her again, and she drew me to her, rolling me on top of her again, drawing me into her body again, wrapping her legs and arms around me again. We moved slowly, our hips finding their own languid pace, her feet caught behind my knees, her fingers kneading the muscles of my back.

Again I was holding my weight on my elbows and knees, and so my hands were in her hair, cradling her head on each side, as we kissed again, her tongue echoing the slow motion of my cock inside her. I didn't know if I could come again. Between being in my fifties and the strange effect of my medication, the general mess of my brain chemistry sometimes made it impossible for me to orgasm at all. After the amazing experience of half an hour before, I had some doubts about it happening again. But I thought that she would. She always could. And in any case this wasn't any kind of frantic sex.

Indeed it wasn't like any sex I had had for a long time. This was something I had forgotten. This was something I had only ever done with Penny, and then only a few times. This was special.

It was hard to describe. I have had sex while stoned, and I have read about Tantric sex, and I have practised meditation and mindfulness, so I suppose I can compare it to those things. This was mindful, meditative, total immersion in the moment, in each other. It wasn't sex. I just happened to be deeply inside her body, she just happened to be wrapped around me, but we were deeper into each other's feelings, and our own, than we were in flesh. After a few minutes I had reached a strange plateau, as if my body was floating, held down to the earth only by the tight clinging heat around my cock.

I hung there for a while, breathing along with her, and feeling her heart beat. We were rocking gently, in almost imperceptible motions, which slowed to gentle halt. I opened my eyes and saw she was smiling, eyes closed. And then softly, her body began rocking gently, her hands now softly tracing the muscles of my back in an automatic way, not directed or purposeful, just sensing the flow. I kissed her lips, just brushing them with mine, a short little kiss, drawing up and looking into her now open eyes. "Penelope Miranda Harty." I said.

"Sean Phillip Carver." She whispered.

"I find it hard to believe. Here you are, with me. Penny Harty. I used to dream about you."

"I missed you, Sean."

"I missed you too. All the time. I thought about you all the time. Maybe there were some days when I didn't, when I was really mad, really high or really low, but there was never a year, not a month, not a week went by when I didn't think of you. And some days I daydreamed of you for hours. I wrote stories about you. I dreamed of you. And here you are."

"I have thought about you often too. Longed for you. The French say 'tu me manques.' You are missing from me. I have a part missing. And I don't just mean that part," she said, squeezing me gently with her inner muscles.

I had to laugh, a little, after I took the deep breath her movement triggered. She went on "I missed that part too of course, but I just missed you. Sean Carver."