Eejit

"I'm sitting here with a film star, and the eejit thinks me being Raven Quinn is something to write home about," she muttered.

She was so funny, and I laughed helplessly at how silly that was. I showed her the rest of the house and my other keepsakes, including the ketana I had been given at the end of another movie, which she stared at with real reverence when she realised that this sword had actually been wielded by an amazing Asian actress. Then she suddenly dragged me to a halt in front of the portrait I had been given by my photographer employer. It was big, in black and white and faintly reminded me of the cover of Fleetwood Mac's Rumours album cover. The photographer had persuaded me to dress only in tight jeans and sit on a stool facing away from the camera. Then she had instructed one of the models she had working with her over the holidays to sit naked astride my lap, leaning slightly to one side and facing the camera. The picture showed the model's face and part of her body -- including her lovely naked right breast -- as she stared at the lens, while my awed face was in profile as I drank in her power and beauty.

Her name was Peta, and I remembered all too well how ethereally beautiful she was as she had sat astride my lap, giggling helplessly as she wrote her middle name on my stomach in lipstick and had me tying my tongue up in knots trying to guess how to pronounce it -- which turned out to be Eithne, pronounced Enya -- like the singer. Who knew? Somehow her laughter had managed to make what could have been an awkward pose into an hour of sheer fun. Then, when the setup was complete, she went from giggling girl to primal woman hunting for her man in the blink of an eye as the photos were taken. Now she is what I call a super model -- although not skinny enough to be given that title in the industry -- and I had almost lost my heart on that day. And in return she had left a damp spot on my jeans -- I guess to show me that if I had enough courage to chase her, she might not have run too fast. After that I always thought of her as Eithne.

Raven stared at the picture, then at me. "Jesus, if that was any hotter, it would burst into flames."

"It's a lovely picture," I agreed. She crouched to examine the autographs at the bottom, where both photographer and model had signed it. Eithne had signed with a heart and several crosses.

"You must have fucked that bitch for an hour to get that expression on her," she said flatly.

"Raven! No, we didn't... well... do anything," I protested, feeling the need to protect Eithne's honour. "We laughed a lot mostly."

"Laughed her right out of her clothes, I bet," she muttered. "Where's your bedroom?"

I showed her. She looked around inquisitively, noting the walk-in closet and en-suite bathroom, and then steered me back against the big, king-size bed, and pushed me down onto it. "Stay there," she ordered.

She took off her clothes.

I'm sorry if that sounds stark, but that's what she did -- although the way she did it would have made a snake shedding its skin jealous, as she moved her shoulders, stomach and hips in ways I honestly didn't know women could move. What had seemed a pretty, slightly stretchy long-sleeved blouse became a living thing that wrapped itself around her and clutched at her breasts to try and remain in contact. The thing was alive, I swear it was. She fought it off with slinky movements that made my cock so hard, I thought I was going to pass out.

When it had been banished, what remained was so beautiful I forgot to blink and my eyes began to water. Her stomach was pale and smooth, her waist narrow and begging to be held tightly against me. In the centre of that fine flesh was a tiny belly button that hosted a small green stone -- possibly an emerald -- which I suppose would make sense, with her being Irish. My eyes tracked inevitably upward to her breasts held firmly in a pretty, blue, scalloped-edged lacy bra, which would have inexorably drawn the gaze of every man and most women to the surprisingly deep cleavage between those juicy handfuls.

When she reached behind her and released the catch of her bra, I heard a whimper and belatedly realised it had come from me. Returning her hands to her front, she drew the cups slowly away, allowing the edges of the garment to lip at her nipples for a brief infinity. And then -- there they were.

Surprisingly, during the time we had spent together while I was in hospital, I hadn't really thought about her breasts. I mean, I knew they were there -- the twin hemispheres left no one in any doubt as to their being present, no matter how they were clothed. But I hadn't really thought of her with my body, only my heart and mind prevalent at the time. I don't think I actually was worshipping her as if she was an unattainable goddess -- which would exclude my body from any deal -- but then again, the possibility does exist.

Whatever the case might have been then, I was now adulating her with my whole being, my whole essence, everything that I was. My erection was so hard, I had to sit up and undo the button on my pants, unzip and then pull my underpants down enough that Mr Happy could surface. The sigh of relief when my cock was finally released from its compression chamber made Raven giggle -- which made her tits jiggle and in turn made my erection even prouder.

Her tits were not massive -- they seemed to be a size that my hands could manage to contain, if I spread my fingers really wide. When I looked at my hands to check, I think Raven knew what I was thinking because her giggles grew even louder. I loved this laughing Raven. She had cried a lot recently.

Her tits were even paler than the rest of her body, freckles sprinkled across their upper reaches -- each like a tiny kiss from the sun. Those twin hills were round and plump, heavy-looking but still maintaining their fine form -- the bra seemingly more a showcase than a support system. Above the nipples, the inward arc of her breasts revealed that these fine creations were all Raven's own work, with no inorganic add-ons. Below the nipples, they curved around and inwards in a smooth quarter circle which would have had Michelangelo gnashing on his pencil trying to capture the shape on canvas.

The areolae themselves were a light shade of coral, situated at the very apex of each mount, perhaps two inches in diameter, and from the centre of each arose a thick, darker-pink, firmly erect nipple that just pleaded to be sucked and nibbled with a mouth, tickled and laved with a tongue. They drew my attention as if targeted by twin laser sights.

Tossing the bra aside, Raven smoothed her hands down over her belly and then out to the nipped in curves of her waist. She then followed those down and over her hips, pausing only to unfasten her knee-length denim skirt on the one side, before pushing it down until it reached the tipping point and fell around her ankles. Daintily, she stepped out of it.

Her panties matched her bra, pale blue with scalloped edges of white lace, with a patterned lace gusset hiding the good bits, while still revealing a very fine camel-toe lurking within. Raven twirled very slowly, to show off her fine back and even finer butt. The panties reunited with the skirt at her feet.

"Oh my god," I groaned. The sight of her would make an Archangel sulk off and kick in a stained glass window. Delighted at my reaction, she giggled again.

Then she tried to show a serious side, although her pleased smile kept peeping through, as she drew down my jeans, lifted my shirt away, tutted and fussed over my dressings, and then with a contented and anticipatory 'Hmmm' drew off my underpants.

My erection sprang aloft, and hopefully it was only in my mind that I heard a loud 'sproing' that would have been at home in any Warner Brothers cartoon.

"Oh, nice," she murmured, kneeling on the bed astride my shins, leaning forward and taking it in her right hand.

I groaned again. She seemed pleased with my unusual form of applause and gently slipped her hand up and down my shaft, giving it a little twist of the wrist as her fingers passed over the frenulum, making my cock and I both jump in unison.

She leaned forward to rub the pulsing head, with its sheen of pre-cum, against her cheek -- like a cat rubbing against someone about to donate a fish to its bowl. She drew it across her lips, and then between them and it felt as if my cock had been plunged into a small velvet bowl of heated honey, as she kept it quite still within her mouth, not moving for a long moment. Then her tongue flickered left and right across the sensitive underside, and my breathing suddenly resumed with a sharp, desperate intake of air. I stared at her face almost in disbelief, and her eyes locked on mine in return, watching the sheer ecstasy on my face as her tongue circled the head, her cheeks hollowing slightly as she gave suck.

I groaned in an overdose of pleasure, and her answering moan of pleased satisfaction echoed mine as her head moved forward, engulfing more and more of me between those bee-stung lips.

"Raven! Ahh... ahh, oh Raven!" I panted, captured completely and completely helpless within her lips and fingers, unable even to remember my own name, while hers burned like fire in my mind. My breathing was uneven, held for long moments as she slipped my shaft deeper and deeper into her mouth, followed by a huge gasp as she drew it almost all the way out again, panting as she paused and then held once again as the cycle restarted.

I had had oral sex before -- I wasn't bad looking, just ordinary -- and I was at university, so opportunities were manifold. But this wasn't just better, this was on a whole different plane of wonderful. Of course it was, this time it was the woman I loved with all my heart giving me everything she could in the best blow job ever.

She paused for a moment, letting her hands move up and down over my erection, her fingers squeezing me very firmly as she slid them over my saliva-slicked skin. She tipped the end of her tongue over the tiny slit at the summit of my helmet, and made a noise of satisfaction.

"You have a lovely cock," she said softly, her smile of approval making both my belly and my heart twist with pleasure. "It's just the right length and it's nice and thick. My little kitty is melting at the thought of this inside her, forcing her to open wide."

My cock jumped in her hand. She traced one of the pulsing veins just under the skin. "Mmm, I can see how much this chap likes that idea."

"The chap up here really likes that thought as well," I panted.

She cocked her head to one side, considering my words. Her eyes had still never left mine.

"No," she announced. "I want to taste you first, and then Miss Kitty can have her turn."

She kissed my belly, just below my navel. "I want to taste all of you, all of my hero."

Her words rang a bell in my mind. Cursing my stupidity at what I was about to risk, I put my hands to the sides of her head, preventing her from slurping me back into her mouth.

"Wait," I gasped. "I don't want a thank you fuck. I don't even want a thank you blow job. I can't believe I'm saying this, but if you don't want to fuck me for you, for your pleasure, then we can just sit this one out. You don't owe me anything."

I drew her forward so that she was lying fully on top of me, our faces very close together.

"You don't want me?" she whispered. There was a plaintiff note in that question.

"Of course I want you! I want you more than anything I've ever wanted in my life. But I didn't do anything for some sort of reward. I wouldn't have made that deal even with myself."

"Ah Jeez, a man of honour as well. My honourable eejit," she said with a smile after a long moment of thought.

I snorted through a smile, although my insides felt as taut as a high C piano wire. "I'm not being honourable. I just... well, I want more than just a quick thank you shag."

She looked askance, and something shifted in her expression.

"No, I don't want your money, I don't need money. God, give me some credit!" I stated, and she looked abashed as she realized I had understood her thoughts. "No, I would like... What I would love most would be to spend time with you for a while longer, getting to know you better -- finding out what makes you tick in here."

I placed my hand flat between her breasts, over her heart.

"I would like to take you to restaurants, to movies, theatres, museums and galleries. I would love to cycle with you along the beach front, swim in the sea with you, find out what books, films, music you like, walk the dog down to the pub with you..."

I had gambled everything and asked for the moon, praying she wouldn't leave me drifting in space.

"You want to date me?" she drew her head back, a little furrow of puzzlement on her forehead.

"Er... well, yes. I suppose that is what I'm asking."

She tossed her head, her beautiful mane flying to one side. "Oh fuck that!"

My heart sank into my knees, both of them.

"I understand, I mean, you're busy and all..."

She continued as if I hadn't spoken. "Fuck that! I'm not dating you until Miss Kitty has given her approval. She's very tired of having only my fingers for company."

She rose up onto her knees, took my hand in hers and pressed it between her thighs, pushing my palm against her pussy and dexterously pressing my middle finger between her lips and inside her. It felt as if my finger had been dipped into freshly melted silk, so wet and warm.

"Does it feel like I want to say thank you?" she asked in a whisper."Or does it feel like I want to fuck you?"

"It feels like paradise," I whispered back. The whispering between us seemed to make everything even more erotic.

"Then welcome to heaven, you li'l ol' sinner you," she giggled. Her words made my cock jump and press against her belly. It jumped again as she took it in her hand and guided it to her soft, moist entrance, slipping it back and forth between her labia for a few moments until it was fully lubricated and then setting it in place at her entrance.

She sank down and my cock slid inside her as if it was the unique key to a complicated lock. Our eyes were locked together, and I took in every micro-expression on her face as it travelled the full length of that tight, oh-so-slippery chute, wondering whether the scalding heat of her would burn my cock to a crisp and not caring a jot if it did. Those tiny expressions revealed shock, pleasure, discomfort, more pleasure and finally ecstasy, as my shaft forced open the moist folds of her interior before it completed its journey and filled her up completely.

"Ooh, that's good, so good," she moaned, remaining still as she became accustomed to the intruder within. "Oh, I've had bigger, but not better."

Well I must admit, that was a left-handed compliment, and more than a little off-putting at this stage, but I guess she was never one to filter her thoughts, and it most certainly wasn't enough for me to call a halt to proceedings. I put my hands over her breasts, feeling the hard nipples press into my palm and squeezed gently.

"Mmm, I like that," she moaned. "A little harder, please."

I complied, feeling the soft weight of her pale tits heavy in my hands for a while before I drew them back to circle the areolae with my fingertips, and then brush them with a whisper-light touch over the tips of her nipples. They responded by growing even stiffer. She gave a long sigh and began to rotate her hips while keeping me fully embedded within her body, allowing the base of my cock to stimulate the crowded nerve endings in the entrance to her vagina, while forcing the rest of my iron-hard shaft to pleasure the deeper parts of her cunt in a circular motion.

This was a new one on me, and I felt my pleasure levels ramp up sharply. Too sharply.

I drew her down, so that she was lying flat on top of me, squeezed her firm butt cheeks and then took her hips and began to pump into her very slowly, while kissing her with as much love and longing as I could possibly demonstrate. Her hands slipped around my chest, under my arms and up to hold onto my shoulders from behind and responded in kind, trying to force a faster pace. I denied her, maintaining the slow, almost leisurely pace, and refusing to allow our actions to become a sprint at this stage. I wanted this first time -- the first of what I hoped would become many -- to last as long as possible.

She groaned into my mouth but accepted my constraint.

In this position, her clit was pressing up against my pubic bone, and as I drew her up and withdrew my cock and then pressed her back down again, sliding her body down over mine and filling her up as completely as possible, her clit was stimulated to her complete pleasure. This became clear when she drew her head back slightly, away from my lips, to stare into my eyes with surprise evident on her face. Then she squeezed her eyes shut, and her pursed lips moved from side to side, which in turn made her nose wriggle slightly, which was beyond cute. She let out a little sigh as she orgasmed, her cunt fluttering and squeezing my cock with almost uncontrollable pleasure.

"Oh, that was nice," she whispered.

"Just a taster," I replied and kissed her again, before rolling her onto her back, my cock remaining firmly implanted within her as we moved.

With her now on her back and me planted firmly between her widespread thighs, my shaft slid even deeper inside her, drawing a gasp and a wriggle of pleasure from her. "Mmm, you have such a nice cock!"

"You like it?"

"It's now on my Christmas list to Father Christmas," she giggled.

I frowned. "I'm sort of attached to it."

"Oh well," she sighed. "If I must, I'll add you to the list as well."

"So kind."

"I know. I get taken advantage of all the time. I'm just too soft."

I squeezed her left breast, loving the dichotomy of how firm and soft they were at the same time. "You are soft, wonderfully soft."

She squeaked out a little giggle, as my fingers circled her nipple and then closed in to pinch it gently. At the same time, I gave a little thrust with my hips, and the giggle became a gasp, showing me I was on the right track.

I reached down, took her behind the knees and drew them up to her chest, pumping steadily. Her eyelids fluttered as different nerves clusters within her glorious vagina were stimulated.

Now I began to thrust more firmly, drawing out slowly until just the tip of my erection was within her tight entrance, and then driving in again quickly, ignoring the twinge from my back where my spleen and I had parted company. She gave out a little moan as Mr. Happy discovered even more depths to her pleasure. A few minutes later, she was hanging around my neck, trying to kiss me, thrust up at me, and pull me deeper into her with her heels, all at the same time. Apart from the kiss, none of it was working, her coordination seeming to be a little off for some reason. This was explained a few seconds later as her eyes closed, and her moving lips made her nose twitch again.

As soon as I saw that, I withdrew from her, rolled to one side and clamped my right hand over her pussy, the flush on her neck and chest deepening as my fingers pressed deep against her soft depths while the heel of my palm pushed hard against her clitoris, deepening her orgasm and maintaining it for long moments. My hand moved back and forth very slowly, not stimulating her beyond her sensitivity threshold, but keeping her right on the edge of her pleasure/pain border.

Raven gasped and squeaked and moaned as her orgasm seemed to go on and on. Finally, her belly spasming now and then with the after effects of her ecstasy, she gave a long, deep sigh.