Grace Takes a Time Out Ch. 02

She steps back from him and raises her hands to join above her head, which accentuates the fullness of her breasts as well as raising them slightly. "Your turn." Is all she says.

He tries to do what she did - walk around her, examine her, but his head is spinning from the strangeness of it all, from the full body feel-up she just gave him, and the general awkwardness of walking around with his erection swaying in front of him. He certainly sees plenty of her, but not analytically as she had with him - more like highlights: her stomach curving down to her light brown pubic hair, her arms with enough shape to indicate the muscles in them, the straightness of her posture, the small of her back, her full round breasts. Once he has come all the way round he looks at her questioningly and she says, again softly, "Please do." She has lowered her arms by this time and he very tentatively starts by running the fingers of one hand from her neck to shoulder and down the arm; then he looks down at her chest and, again tentatively, passes one hand over the top of her chest and down the side without touching her breast. And it is taking all his focus to do this - this thing that all his life he had been told was taboo, or if not taboo at least kind of edgy: touching a woman.

"Peter: just go for it!" She's not angry, perhaps impatient by now.

"What I did to you: I want you to do that for me. Touch me everywhere. Let yourself go, it's what I want." Not asking or pleading - instructing and telling.

Peter has a flash of recollection of yesterday: her body, the sunscreen. "I'll try." he says, again hesitation in his voice. But he steels himself and starts again at her collarbone, this time with both hands, working his way down and around. It gets easier as he goes and now he is paying more attention to her details: the texture of ribs under muscle, the movement of shoulder blades under pressure, the firmness and arcs of her thighs, the round heaviness of her breasts, and finally, with just the tips of his fingers, the profile of her nose and shapes or her cheekbones. Once in a while as he works his way around she pushes back or twists or stretches a bit in response to his touch; she makes quiet moaning noises. He has become absorbed in his task and nervousness has fallen away, only when he is done and steps back does he notice her rapid shallow breathing and the flush in her complexion.

Grace opens her eyes when he breaks contact and looks wonderingly at him. "Whew. That was fabulous - even better than the sunscreen yesterday. You can do it again anytime - you don't even have to call ahead!" She is joking to cover up and control her highly aroused state.

Peter, however, is as yet unclear on the concept so he is unsure just what her state is. He smiles. "I liked that, both you to me and me to you." he says simply.

"I'm glad, Peter." Her speech is abrupt because she is still trying to regain self-control. She stands facing him for a few moments, breathing deeply, then: "I'm not trying to rush you but I thought some basic anatomy training might be in order next. Tell me: when I touched you where did it seem most exciting or stimulating? Everyone's erogenous zones are a bit different."

Peter is perplexed, and thinks. It was all so close to overload for him that he can't really describe any high points. "I don't know Grace. I could hardly keep track. I know about the idea of erogenous zones, but right now it's kind of a blur." He feels like he's let her down.

"That's OK; I can imagine this is new and difficult to sort out. How about I tell you about what I like best - kind of show you around?" She smiles, now a little wickedly. He nods assent. "I'm sure you've heard about tits and nipples?" Again he nods. "This is how I like it." She raises a hand to one breast and swirls a finger around the nipple, occasionally squeezing it, too. "Try that."

He steps closer to her and supports the other breast with one hand while copying her motions with the other, looking back and forth from one to the other to see if he's doing it right. "God, Peter. You are so literal sometimes. You don't have to be exact - just feel it and when it's right you'll see or feel my reaction. Explore and experiment."

His confused and, to be honest, wounded feelings show on his face. "I'm sorry," she says, "maybe I'm expecting too much too soon. Let's go into the guest room and lie down; this standing up at arm's length is a little strange."

Grace leads him across the living room and into a good sized guest room with a king bed. Clearly the spare room, with miscellaneous blankets flung over the bed at odd angles. Grace looks around the room and says "Not much of a housekeeper am I? Didn't clean it up after yesterday afternoon; I'll make it up tomorrow. You OK?"

"Yeah, I guess." He doesn't know what to say or do.

"Let's just clear it off a bit and lie down and relax before we go on." She tosses the blankets off so there are just sheets and pillows. "Come lie down next to me and let's unwind for a couple of minutes." So they do and for a few minutes they lie on their backs, side by side occasionally touching hands or stroking the other. Finally Grace rolls onto her side facing him, nudges him, and he rolls to his side also; they are almost eye to eye. She takes his opposite hand and brings it to her pubic hair: "Just massage that gently." she tells him. He starts to and she leans in to kiss him. He is taken by surprise when she frenches him and licks the insides of his lips; he presses more firmly on her mons.

"Mmmm. Slowly, gently." She licks his earlobe and then the back edge of the rest of his ear; he shivers slightly and closes his eyes so he can focus on his hand and her tongue. After a few minutes she slides 6 or 8 inches up so she's still next to him on her side, but now her tits are even with his neck; she reaches down and moves his hand down as she raises her top knee so the leg forms a triangle. "Go lower." She whispers in his ear, and gives it another long lick. She runs her hand across his chest and down to his stomach, just above his erection.

Peter's fingers are now between her legs. Grace reaches down to guide his fingers between her lips: "Ahh! There, that little bump - do you feel it?"

"Uh huh."

"Be very gentle; just move your fingers around it, barely touch it. Slowly. Ahhh - that's right. Ohhhh." Peter is trying to follow her lead and instructions, he opens his eyes at one point and sees her tits at his shoulder. On impulse he bends his head down just enough to kiss the nipple on the upper breast - she quivers ever so slightly and makes a noise. He sucks the rapidly hardening nipple into his mouth, holding it with his suction and swirling the tip of his tongue on it. A louder moan from Grace. Peter continues on the nipple and presses harder on her clitoris. He is afraid he is going to lose control of himself: his erection feels like it's the size of a power pole and the pressure inside it is almost painful.

Grace slides herself up a few more inches and rolls onto her back; at the same time she reaches down and pushes Peters hand toward her vaginal opening guiding he fingers to it and pushing them in. "Deeper." She groans. Peter rolls up on his side facing her, he feels the almost flowing moisture and swirls his middle finger around to get his bearings then pushes deeper, adding his ring finger. He slowly strokes her inner lining towards the front. Within seconds she is squirming and moaning: "That's it Peter... there!... oh!... Oh!... don't stop!" Suddenly she reaches across with her far arm while at the same time tries to force her near arm under him: she pulls him over on top and spreads her legs further apart. "Now." Is all she says, almost breathless. She reaches down to his erection and guides it into herself, and with a grunt pushes against him to drive it in.

He is on top, supporting his upper body on his elbows, almost immediately he starts thrusting he feels her legs around his waist and her heels on his buttocks, not so much pounding as accelerating his rhythm. Then he feels her clench his erection and arch her back so her stomach presses up into his from below, she stiffens and lets out a loud extended moan. He feels his own orgasm come at that moment as a hot outflowing, over and over, but the feeling of her orgasm happening overcomes him with surprise and his own seems less strong, less central. He looks down at her in amazement as they both relax, melt, sag, into the bed.

After a couple minutes of catching their breaths he starts to roll off but she throws her arms around him and raises her leg to stop him: "Going somewhere, sailor?" she asks with a wide smile.

"Uh, I thought you would be uncomfortable with me on top."

"Right now I'd be uncomfortable with you not on top. That was really nice - thank you." And she lifts her head to kiss him.

"Uh, thank you, too, Grace. Did you do OK? I mean, I couldn't hold it very long."

"Yes, that was me doing better than OK. You just need more practice. I have all afternoon available - how about you?"