First Summer: Celebration Sex

As he came his groan was as loud as I'd ever heard from him; a deep satisfying moan of pleasure as I felt him the base of his shaft pulse as it pumped out his sperm inside me. When he finished, I contracted tightly on to him hoping to keep him inside me for as long as possible, wrapped him in my arms and put my head on his shoulder again.

We sat like that for the rest of the trip. Greg didn't seem to soften at all and I loved it – every minute of it – being joined to him and cuddled in to him like that. As we approached the jetty it was time to separate; if only to let Greg tie the boat up. As I pulled off him his load of sperm and my juices deposited themselves straight in to his swimwear. Greg ignored that for a moment, his flaccid shaft hanging out the front of his now soggy swimmers as he attended to the boat and helped me onto the dock where I slipped my dress back over my bikini.

Then he dealt with his own clothing difficulty. Even though it was late, there was still a possibility someone would still be up, so as Greg got dressed he needed to go commando – rinsing his swimmers over the side before wrapping them in a towel.

I'd arranged to stay the night at Greg's place and by the time we got back it was definitely time for bed.

Greg's bed was only a king single size, so with the two of us in there it was nothing if not cosy and the shared body heat certainly justified the lack of either clothing or even a sheet. As we lay there arm in arm, Greg pulled me in and whispered "happy anniversary" and then gave me a big kiss. With the intimacy I could feel his erection growing; because of its starting position, it was actually growing up between my legs, sliding across my thighs as it moved in to an upright position - its progress eventually being halted as it came up hard against my crutch.

I whispered to him –

"Do you think you can fall asleep while you're inside me?"

It just seemed like a crazy romantic thing to do after such a special night. I was tipsy enough I was fairly sure I could, as long as I could resist going for another orgasm beforehand.

Greg didn't need a second invitation for that one so, with a "I'm willing to give it a try", I helped position him to slide his cock into my all to ready body.

Now anyone whose laid side by side with a lover knows that there's always one too many elbows. Greg conceded me the more comfortable position of having my arm under him between his pillow and his shoulder. That left his arm folded up under his shoulder; although the consolation for him was it made the most logical place to put his hand as being on my breast. I'm sure he could feel my nipple rise in to his palm as he did so.

As we settled down, he pulled me in one more time, kissed me lightly on the lips and whispered –

"Goodnight beautiful."

I tried not to have my voice reveal I was choking up with a tear as I whispered back.

"Goodnight lover."

With that I settled down and tried to surrender myself to my tiredness and the effect of the alcohol. It must have worked because the next thing I remember is waking up. I could just see the outline of Greg sound asleep in the pale moonlight streaming through the window. I could feel he was still hard inside me and his hand was still on my breast; but his upper body was curved back from mine a little so his arm was not being crushed under his own weight. I didn't have a clue what the time was; maybe we'd been asleep for hours, maybe in was only a fraction of an hour.

For a while I just laid there and stared at him as my eyes adjusted to the light and his features became clearer; this wonderful person who had made such a difference to my life. Being so close to Greg always stirred something in my heart; having him inside me stirred so much more than that. It had been such a wonderful night and what he had said had meant so much to me. I just wished I could be the one who initiates the exchange, instead of always being reduced to a "me too" response. The fact was I was actually scared of how strongly I felt about him. Almost from the beginning, Greg had reached right down in to the most primitive parts of my brain and turned on switches which I hadn't intended to be turned on yet – which I'm not even sure I knew I had.

Certainly the pure lust and sexuality he had stirred in me was part of that. It shows how much the world has changed when that's the only switch I could safely reveal to the world; because the other switches involved the two 'M' words – marriage and maternal.

Had you asked me six months ago what my life plan marriage wise was, I probably would have answered that I hoped I would meet someone when I was about 25 and be married by 30. Now at 20 I felt I had met someone I wanted to spend the rest of my life with; who I couldn't envisage being without. A part of me still insisted I was too young for such thoughts; that I still had so much growing to do. I knew I was still changing in my outlook on life and didn't see any reason Greg wouldn't be the same. The people we are today could be quite different from who we might be in five years' time. That part of me accepted this might just be a bad case of puppy love; an infatuation that would all too quickly burn itself out. But I also knew I wasn't really the infatuating type. My bedroom wall had never been covered in photos of the latest boy bands; I'd never wanted to go to a concert and scream at the very presence of some famous male; I never even had a crush on a guy in any real sense of the word.

A bit like Greg had described that magical night he had first declared his love for me, I'd always been just a little bit analytical about guys. Even while going out with them I'd been able to see their faults. I might have been able to put up with them, but that vision had been enough to be a protective barrier against infatuation. Greg had shattered all that. All I could see and all I could feel in his presence was an all-consuming love and desire.

While I was totally blind to any possibility that Greg wasn't the perfect man for me, I also felt that I'd missed out on some life experiences. That I couldn't really make that judgement until I'd had my heart broken to toughen it up and managed to break a heart or two to prove that I was able to make the hard decisions; to walk away from a wrong relationship rather than let it run on through sympathy for the other person.

Regardless, I knew marriage was a longer term game. It was a word that could not yet be thought let alone spoken. If we were to stay together, then maybe my life plan might now see it as something for our mid-twenties but that was so far away that it couldn't enter the present.

And then there was the other 'M' word. I'd had no interest in children; had never really thought I'd want one, let alone a whole family of them. I'd even told some friends I saw myself as a cat-lady in preference to being a mother. Now Greg had turned my maternal switch on with a vengeance. Nobody had told me that your feeling for a man could affect something like this. I was sure I'd never read about this connection in Cleo, but it was there. I still had a life plan and I knew I needed time to start a career, but suddenly I had a different perspective. Suddenly I'd started to think about a career built around being a mother, not motherhood built around a career.

Maybe time would recalibrate my attitude to things yet again. This thing with Greg had all happened so quickly. As I'd said to him, there was just so much for me to process; I was still working out in my own head what was happening to me. But it was all wonderful just the same.

As I just lay there looking at him the stirring in my heart and the love I felt for him was rapidly matched by the longing in my loin. I blame the alcohol, but eventually I couldn't resist moving my hand down the narrow gap between our bodies and playing with my clit. As I worked myself toward an orgasm it was really hard not to start working up and down on Greg's shaft; but I didn't want to wake him up so I tried to keep the rest of my body as still as I could while I let my fingers do all the work.

Even as I came I tried to make sure I internalised everything; although I couldn't stop my body from contracting against Greg's shaft. I thought it might even have induced another wet dream for him, but apparently not as he just lay there still asleep.

I must have fallen asleep again because the next thing I remember is waking up in the morning. Greg was asleep on his back beside me; his body again displaying its morning glory in all its splendour. Again I just found myself staring at him; scanning the length of his body, although for some reason this morning my eyes were lingering on his torso and the shaft that was bisecting the lower part of it. I was just staring at him; taking in the majesty of the male body. As my eyes eventually scanned up to his face, they met his eyes. He'd woken up and he'd been watching me stare at him.

I felt myself blush.

"Looking for something?" he asked with a teasing inflection. Normally I'd be able to come back at him with some witty ego deflating response, but the night of emotions had dulled my brain and made it more serious. I just started to stutter some silly explanation while blushing even more deeply when he turned in toward me and put a finger on my mouth to stop my blathering.

He spoke softly so he wouldn't be heard by the rest of the house.

"I was just teasing. The fact is I've spent many a morning after we've shared a bed just lying awake staring at this beautiful woman sleeping naked beside me. It's one of the greatest pleasures I can imagine.

I suppose you think it just arouses me and makes me want sex, but actually the beauty of the moment has very little to do with that. There's something about the female body – well actually your female body – that just sends this flood of hormones though me"

He hesitated. He was leaving himself open to all sorts of suggestions with that line, but something told me he was trying to convey a more powerful message, so I resisted the urge to tease him to see if he said more.

"I don't mean the sort of hormones that make me want sex – I can see by the smirk on your face that's what you're thinking.

It's a hormone that bonds me to you, that makes me love you even more, that makes me want to protect and look after you and give you whatever you want from me. I've had a lot of time to think about this. We guys get really bad press about being all visual and yes we are. But the power of a woman's breasts, of her legs, bum, stomach, back and every other bit of her body that uniquely declares to the world that she's a woman and not a man is not just to make us lust after you, it's to make us love you in this enduring way; or at least it is for me where you are concerned.

I admit that the same love can then make me lust after you and want to fuck you silly, but it's the love that drives that. Take the love away and the lust goes with it. Every time you wear something that displays your femineity – I hate using the word sexy in this context, but I suppose it also means that - I just want to be near you; to be constantly by your side, talking to you and wanting your attention. Whatever the hormone is, it's completely addictive. I just want more and the more I get, the more I want to be with you.

I know I'm sounding stupidly serious, but I've always wanted to try and convey to you how it works. I think humans are meant to be monogamous and that, at least where guys are concerned, it's this hormone that binds us to our girl. Your bodies have this power over us and with just a little bit of effort on your part to keep our addiction visually fed, you can get whatever you want.

I suppose if the underlying person turned out to be horrible then the power of the hormone would fade away. It's a bit like I explained to you before, how our eyes react to a person is governed by how we feel about the sort of person they are.

I'm sorry to bore you with my ravings and I know I'm not explaining this well. It's just always been something I've really wanted to explain. I don't know if it's just me or of all guys are like this; but I don't really think I'm that different from the average guy. I think most guys if they opened up would say the same."

He pulled me in to him and gave me a cuddle. Wow. I loved it when Greg opened up like this to me. I just wish I could do the same, but given the strength and nature of the feeling he aroused in me, if I really told him how I felt I was scared he'd just run away screaming.

I was happy to dress nicely just to turn Greg on. If it had the effect he was describing, I'd be willing to go everywhere naked – not that he was asking for that. Why don't they advertise this sort of stuff? I certainly understood about the effect of hormones and the way they drew you to someone and bonded you with them, so I could translate that to girl stuff. Greg's naked body had a slightly different impact on me. I certainly loved looking at it and in its presence I felt safe and protected, but I wasn't sure that was the cause of my hormonal rush. I was a bit lost for words, but there was something I could say in all honesty.

"Greg, you have no idea the power of the hormones you generate in me; I love it when you tell me how you feel like that. And by the way, I do love to stare at your body too."

We were both very aroused, but this wasn't an ideal time to get stuck in to it. We could hear the rest of the household starting to stir. After cuddling him for a while, I gave him a kiss, slapped his bum, turned to get out of bed and said –

"Come on lover, time to get up or I'll want to screw you and you know how noisy I can be."

I had taken to leaving a spare toothbrush at Greg's place, but this morning I hadn't brought any spare clothes. While the bikini gave me a partial solution, if I wasn't to do the walk of shame going out in my clothes from the night before, I'd need to borrow a T shirt from Greg. He did one better than that by lending me a long sleeve button up sun shirt; one of those beach cover ups made of a gauzy material. While it was a bit transparent – and I didn't doubt that's why Greg chose it – with a few buttons strategically undone it actually made a nice – albeit somewhat short - sundress.