Crush

"I thought you were here," she said, smiling a sleepy smile.

"May I lay with you?", he asked. She looked at him.

"Remember my barrier," she replied, moving a bit.

"I promise," he swore. She rolled back, clearing a bit of the bed. He lay down, grateful to lay down, feeling sudden fatigue from his tension filled morning. He lay on his stomach, his arms close to his body, careful to avoid all contact with her; the bed was enough, and he didn't want to risk anything.

"Hold me."

He turned. She was gazing at him.

"Hold me, please."

He turned, reaching for her hip, feeling her panties, and pulled her towards him. They lay facing one another, his head on her shoulder, their legs interwined, her breasts pressing against him. He inhaled sharply - the sensation of her bare breasts on his chest was a shock to him, the softness on his body a missed sensation. Then she rolled over, presenting her back to him, and snuggled back to him. He wrapped his arms around her, his hardness pressed against her rear end, his arms squeezing her towards him. Suddenly, he reached down and started to wriggle his shorts down, naked underneath.

"What are you doing?", she asked.

"Um, nothing," he said, finished, pressing back against her. She felt his bare penis.

"You're incorrigible!" she said, smiling. He caressed her breasts, the curves, heavy in his hands, playing with her nipples, making them hard. Then he reached down towards her belly, but she stopped him, gently taking his hand and pressing it against her breasts. He was aching with desire, but he kept within their strange boundries, teasing each other. His penis started leaking pre-cum, but they kept their delicious pressure together. He'd hold her tighter, pressing into him, then release, letting the tension slowly subside. After a long time, maybe an hour, she pulled away.

"You want breakfast?", she asked.

"Umm," he smiled.

"You know the rules," she said, giggling, looking down at him. "I'll be downstairs."

Listening to her feet patter down the stairs, he lay back, spread eagle on her bed. He looked around. I'm in her sanctuary, alone. She trusts me. He closed his eyes and twisted himself up in her voluminous comforter, wanting every bit of his skin touching it.

***

They repeated their morning scene often, whenever they could. They never went further than that first morning. It was a beautiful compromise, enough for him, safe for her. As difficult as it might be to understand, he didn't think of it as a tease. It felt appropriate, it felt okay, it was where the relationship had progressed to. He would feel uncomfortable with more, as would she. So, for a while, this is how it stayed.

***

One night at the theater, he reached his hand over, on her thigh, then up towards her crotch. She had on a thong, for him, and she'd teased him with it before they got there. He slipped his hand up her skirt. She moved her jacket to cover his hand and kept her eyes on the screen. He moved down to her panties, warm, humid. He touched her, fingered her, but she didn't react, watching the screen quietly. Only the wetness betrayed anything, the flushness of her cheeks, her bright eyes. The movie ended, and they left, walking separately like they always did in public. But when they got to her car, he opened the door for her then grabbed her thigh, trying to feel her up. She squealed in delight and jumped around, trying to get away. They ran around the car and she dove in the passenger side, trying to pull herself to the driver's side. But her skirt, short enough anyway, revealed the thong, the dampness evident, and he held her ankle as he touched her. This garnered another reaction, and she jumped. He pulled her back and let her sit up, and then, standing inside the open door, rubbed her crotch. She pressed back, her back arching, and she let him rub her.

"Oh what are you doing?" she asked, "Oh jeez."

He smiled, still touching her. Her hand found his arm, and she held it, tighter and tighter. She was breathing heavily, and he started to wonder if she would actually have an orgasm. Then suddenly, she let go. "Wait, you have to stop," she gasped, "it's too much."

He stopped, watching her relax, sink into the seat.

"You want me to drive?" he asked.

"Uh, that would be good," she said, laughing, "I'm a little distracted right now."

***

One night, she walked him down to "his" bed, and they held each other as they always did. But when she pulled away, her face was different. There was a seriousness etched into it that he hadn't seen before.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

She merely looked up at him. Then, unexpectly, she leaned forward to kiss him. It was such a surprise that he didn't even kiss her back, he just stood there, his only thought that he'd overstepped his boundries. She pulled back, then, closing her eyes, leaned forward again. This time, he knew it was okay. Their lips met and they held each other tightly, their lips meshed, their tongues finally meeting. They pulled apart again, flushed and warm.

She silently pulled him to his bed and lay down. He lay down next to her, then, rolling on top of her, they held each other, kissing. She pulled up on his shirt and he sat up and raised his arms, taking it off, their eyes always searching for the other's. He pulled on her top too, and she wiggled out of it. She reached behind her, removing her bra. He watched her breasts free, deliciously spread under their own weight. She pulled at his waistband, and he twisted, pulling one leg clear, then the other. Finally, she raised her hips, inviting, and he obliged, pulling down her panties. He did this slowly, carefully, and he watched the fabric pass down her leg, caressing her skin, until they cleared her toes. He looked back up, and she placed her feet down, apart, then carefully spread her knees, opening for him.

He stared - he couldn't help it. Her labia were swollen, pink-purple, engorged with her desire for him. They were open just a bit, revealing the pinkness, the wetness. He was stunned at how turned on she looked, and when he could finally draw his eyes away from her vagina, he found her eyes looking at him in an almost pleading way.

He lay back on top of her, his penis sitting on top of her wetness, and they kissed again. They held each other tightly, wanting to meld together, their contact not close enough. If they could have merged into one being they would have, but they had to settle for just pressure.

He drew off of her, and scooting down just a bit, looked at her.

"May I kiss you?", he asked quietly.

She smiled. Nodded, not wanting to speak. He moved down and tentatively kissed her thighs, making her jump just a bit. Then, drawn to her wet, warm, core, he planted his lips on hers. Her reaction couldn't have been more sudden, more involuntary. She drew in a sharp breath, both her knees drew up, her torso lifted as if doing a crunch, her hands going to his head, all of her body drawing in towards the sudden pleasure emanating from her core. Then, as the sensations eased through her body, she pressed into his mouth, her heels digging in, her back arching, her body now offering itself to him. She gasped, exhaling, then, breathing in again, the cool air rushing in her lungs, she groaned, her eyes closed, her hands making small fists on the bed. Her rear lowered to the bed, the shock of literally a year of foreplay innundating her body. He spread her thighs, holding them wide, attacking her center, feeling her melt into him.

He bathed in her taste, her sensual scent, a different scent from that of her skin. He revelled in her swollen lips, her clitoris, the entryway to her vagina. He drew his fingers towards her, but, realizing they only took his mouth away from her, drew them away, using them to open her to him, to allow his mouth to totally and completely possess her.

He turned her just a bit, pulling her to the side of the bed. Kneeling on the floor, he had much more access to her. Pushing her legs back till they pressed against her breasts, he attacked her core, his tongue licking, swirling, teasing, digging. She responded, her internal flexing evident to him, pressing herself outwards, offering herself to him. Her rear beckoned, soaked with her juices, pink, waiting for him. He drew his tongue down, drawing an "Oh my God" from her. Lightly he teased her there, circling, putting his thumb square in the middle, pressing against her, massaging her. He could feel her muscles loosening, allowing his thumb to sink just a bit, but, uncertain, he left it at that, moving his mouth back to attack her clit with a vengeance. She responded, and he could feel her alternately tensing and relaxing under his thumb.

Her breathing accelerated, and as if about the jump into a pool, she took in one final breath, her body rigid, her arms tense, pulling his head into her. Then, starting deep within her core, her body released, trembling, shaking, crying out with the relief of it all. His mouth stayed planted on her and soon, gasping, she tried to wriggle away.

"Too sensitive!", she gasped. "Oh my God! That was incredible. Oh my God. Come here, come here," she pleaded.

They held each other, grasping tightly, her panting in his ear. She squeezed him to her, her fingers white with pressure, as she let herself finally feel the openness for a man. She felt his hardness against her skin, his head wet with desire. She rolled him over, and scooting down, held his penis up, preparing to kiss it. She looked up, smiling, and he couldn't help but giggle. Then a sharp intake of breath as she took the head of his penis into her mouth. Then that warm, wet feeling as she stroked him with her lips, moving her head around, increasing the sensation of motion.

"Wait, wait!" he gasped. "It's too much!"

She eased up.

"Oh God yeah..."

She gurgled in reply.

"I want to finish inside you" he said, hovering at that point of no return. She moved up on her hands and knees, and he rolled on top of her, pressing her down on her stomach. She spread her legs, and he could feel her warmth, still wet, cool to the touch. Then, with her guidance, he entered her. The warmth surrounded him, soft, inviting. Her ass pressed against him, firm but cushioning. The sensation drove him crazy and without breaking contact with that delicious rear, he started to move, thrusting, moving, bathed in her juices.

She thrust her arms forward to keep them from moving up the bed, and he lay his hands on top of hers, holding her arms apart, pinning her. His fingers squeezed, the tension building in his body looking for any outlet. His thrusting accelerated, his breathing ragged, and he realized he was starting to melt inside. He could feel his glands, squeezed of all they have to offer. The juices travelling inside his body, preparing for the final burst into the outside world. These things started happening, beyond his control, and he let them take over, the tension locking the whole center of his being. He moved his hands to her waist, pulling himself harder and deeper into her.

Then, with a few final hammering thrusts, his breathing stopped and he dissolved, the juices flowing, his muscled pumping. Then, with a cry crossing both pain and pleasure, he started to come, his cum spurting out of him, his muscles almost cramping from the intensity. He squeezed her to the point of hurt, trying to meld their two bodies into one. His penis gave a few final twitches, then laid to rest.

His vision, blued by his eyes squeezed shut, started to return to normal. He unclamped his fingers, so tight they were stiff and cramped, amazed that she hadn't cried out in pain when he grabbed her. His panting slowed, and he rolled off of her, laying on his back.

"Wow!" she laughed. "You really needed that!"

He turn his head, smiling.

"I don't think I was the only one!"

She laughed in agreement. She looked at him in wonderment. Here is the man, she thought, 16 years my junior, who has brought me back to the living. She looked at his broad shoulders, the glowing face, the shiny eyes, his distinctive bright smile.

She leaned forward, planting a kiss on his lips.

"Thank you."