First Meeting

Michael's mouth stopped moving on Clare's pussy. He'd felt her orgasm, licked at her thighs to lap up her precious juices. But for him, her orgasm was more stimulating than anything else in the world right now. With a final lap at her leg, he pulled his feet under him and straight lifted her out of the chair, throwing himself, and her onto the bed. He pulled his head and shoulders from between her thighs, and pulled her tights down, over and off hers legs. They disappeared out of sight, even as his tongue grasped out, "Turn over," and his own shorts fell to the floor and he was on the bed again, hands on her hips, helping her to her knees.

She had barely finished the turn before he had moved back between her legs, and for a brief moment he saw the ravages his fingers had inflicted on her arse, and then he plunged inside her, all vestiges of real thought gone, all that was left was this deep seated need to possess her. He felt her pussy close around his shaft, beautifully wet now, and with the tangy taste of her in his mouth, he began to move inside her. A hard, definite thrust, with slow withdrawal, but almost immediately back in deep. His hands grasped her hips, fingers clenching into her flesh, and began to pull her onto his cock, whilst moving sharply forward.

Slowly his control began to falter. His carefully crafted rhythmic stroke beginning to be forgotten, as his animal lust took control, and then his restraint failed, and suddenly all that was left was his urgent need for her, the drive to have her, fill her with his seed. And then he was ramming deeply into her, driving his cock into her. Repeatability he fucked her, driving so deep that he struck her cervix. Never hearing her repeated cries of pain, or the enjoyment in it. Fingers digging into her hips, gouging the flesh, and still he fucked her, and then his penis exploded inside her. The thick cum exiting so hard that it hurt. The pain mingling with his pleasure, and in one final act he pulled her tight to his groin, filling her with every bit of his lust.

And then he was falling beside her, and his last conscious action was to reach out and put both his arms around her and pull her to him, before surrendering to his exhaustion.

Clare lay looking at Michael. She had woken up lazily a few minutes before, in a slow indolent manner. She felt strangely sated. Her body was gently throbbing, and the skin of her buttocks felt oddly hot to her. So now she lay in his encircling arms. She had tried to move to a slightly more comfortable position, but his arms had pulled tighter on her, and his mouth had mumbled her name, so she had relaxed and instead now she watched him. Burying herself closer to him instead.

Well, she thought, not bad at all old man. Considering how tired he must have been after his flight, he'd been been extremely thorough in his lovemaking. There was, she speculated, a good deal that they hadn't done yet. A lot they had talked about, and part of her speculated just how good was he when rested. And she shivered at the thought of what they might achieve together. She'd give him a little longer to sleep.

A thought crossed her mind. She'd seen the scar across his right side, but hadn't really looked at it. From here she couldn't see it but her hand could now reach it and her fingers ran over it. One was a neat puncture, and on the side it was a ragged edge, ugly in feel. She was going to have to ask him where it came from. Her mouth played idly with his nipple, through the tee shirt. He hadn't played with her breasts at all, in fact she was still wearing her bra and blouse, with the skirt still around her waist. He was still in that ridiculous tee shirt!

And then, a thought struck her. He'd come all this way to see her, hadn't he? And now he was sleeping. Sleeping! Then another conversation during role play came to her. Her hand left hand pushed down between there bodies, pushed his flaccid penis to one side and reached for his balls. Fondly caressing them, she gave them a gentle squeeze. Nothing happened. Then with a little more force, and a touch of nail, she began squeezing them repeatedly. At first she wasn't sure, but she became gradually aware that, yes, even this was true of him. He was getting hard in his sleep.

She continued chewing his nipple, her hand squeezing still, an odd piratical smile crossed her face. Sleep! He'd been in the service hadn't he? He shouldn't sleep on duty! She started down his chest, and against murmuring protests, she woke him up.