Gramma Torrie Ch. 07

Chapter Seven

Torrie's Story

As I woke I was having an odd, stream of consciousness conversation with myself.

He said he loves me. So what you crazy old bitch. He's a man he'll say anything to get what he wants. But he said it like he meant it. Jesus, and you believed him? I think I did. Oh shit, crazy and stupid too. But I think I love him. Don't be THAT stupid you twit, think about it. It's all I think about. God DAMN it, Torrie, you're three times his age for Christ's sake. But he said he loves me. He made your body happy, dummy. Well, he did that, that's for damn sure. You're a crazy old woman, you know that don't you? I suppose I am, but he said he loves me. And you, what about you? Me? I'm scared. Why are you scared. Because I'm head over heels, crazy, stupid in love. Oh shit, you're in lust. ((GIGGLES)) Well, I won't deny that. Get over yourself you crazy slut. He said he loves me.

"Who are you talking to?" he asked, snuggling against me and I yelled, startled awake.

He was hard against my back making my skin tighten into a mass of goosebumps.

"Just a crazy old woman, talking to herself," I said, giggling a little.

"It sounded," he murmured, his hand slipping around to cup my breast, Veronica I thought and giggled again, "like you were arguing with yourself. Did you at least win?"

I squirmed around to face him and kissed him, the most thorough kiss I had ever given. My tongue was seeking his, my hand was exploring his back, my back was arching, closing all of the distance between us.

"Yes," I said when I broke the kiss.

"And what were you arguing about?" he asked.

"Oh, just silly old woman stuff," I said.

He pushed himself to arm's length and said, "like what," looking me in the eye.

I was blushing fiercely when I said, "did you mean it?"

"Mean it?" he asked.

He smiled. No, that's not quite true. He flashed The Grin that I both loved and hated. Right then I hated it.

"Did you mean what you said?" I asked.

"What I said?" he asked and I got made then, suddenly, inexplicably really, mad.

I raised myself onto my elbow and punched him. Okay, it wasn't much of a punch but it was the best I could do.

"You said you loved me," I said, "did you mean it?"

"What do you think?" he asked and I just lost it.

I was crying, bawling really, my body wracked with sobs, and I was yelling.

"Please, Roger," I said, well, actually more like, "P-p-p-please R-r-r-roger, don't tease me about this."

He wrapped me in his arms and covered my face with kisses. Slick, snotty kisses as it happened since when I cry my nose runs terribly. When I tried to get my hands up between us he pulled me even closer.

"Yes," he whispered, "I meant it."

More kisses while I got myself under control.

"I didn't plan it," he went on, "I don't claim to understand it, but yes," and he stopped what he was doing to kiss me a dozen more times, literally covering my face with kisses, "I love you."

And I was crying now, even harder, but this time it was pure tears of joy.

"God help me," I managed, "I love you too."

He rolled me onto my back and I expected him to take me then. God knows I was ready. But instead, he got his knees outside of mine, holding mine together, as he started kissing his way down my body.

He was very gentle, his lips soft and just slightly moist, very warm, as he kissed and very gently sucked on my neck and my throat, taking in the soft wattle under my chin. He kissed my shoulders and then lifted my arms over my head and kissed my armpits and the soft skin on the inside of my upper arms.

He spent time on my breasts kissing them and finding my nipples, sucking gently and then a little harder, then kissing that tender skin where my saggy titties normally laid against my body. He kissed my ribs and the hollow where my ribs met the skin of my belly.

And he didn't stop.

He kissed the soft skin of my belly, made me squeal as he probed my belly button with his tongue, and then blew a raspberry.

Then he rocked, first to one side and then the other, getting his knees between my calves and kept kissing down.

"Oh honey," I said, "you don't have to do that."

He looked up, over the rise of my pubic arch, and smiled, not The Grin but a smile, and said, "I'll stop if you tell me to."

I took a deep breath but I did not say "stop."

I was so nervous when he kissed my nether lips. No man had ever done that before. My body was tense and I could feel my hands trembling as I lay still, my hands above my head as he had left me.

The kiss sent a sharp, almost electric jolt up my body, making my nipples so hard they hurt.

And that pressure, that wonderful pressure of womanneed was sudden and powerful deep in my belly.

And I was still crying. God, I had to look like a crazy woman with snot running down my cheeks and tears down the side of my face, wetting my ears and my hair.

But I was laughing too, the pleasure he was giving me so perfect I couldn't stop it.

His mouth was driving me crazy, soft wet kisses and now I felt him, his fingertips opening me, letting him see things nobody except my gynecologist had ever seen.

I was embarrassed. I was mortified. And I was more excited than I had ever been before.

He opened me further, not quite hurting me, but very close to it, I felt myself stretching and I liked the sensation very much. My hips were rocking in that womanrhythm only a woman can do, and I realized that sound was me, a soft humming, moaning sound.

His tongue started flicking out, a warm, damp thing that hit my clitoris with just the perfect amount of pressure.

"Oh God," I moaned as I felt myself start to flow, my love honey, thick and warm as it ran down the crack of my skinny butt.

And the sound he started making almost put me over the top. I knew, on some level, that he had to be doing it deliberately, but he was making a deliberate slurping sound as his tongue lapped at me, like a cat's, warm and soft but demanding too.

He pushed back then, his hands below my knees, pushing them up and apart.

"Help me," he said, very softly, and I knew what he wanted so I reached down and caught my knees with my hands and pulled, bringing my knees back and apart, exposing myself as I had never exposed myself to anyone.

He was up on his knees then, smiling down at me, and I watched as his fingertips slowly moved toward the fork of my legs, entering me just a little bit, and then opening me with a gentle pressure that increased as he started pulling me wider than I had ever been.

He smiled then, the real smile, and said, "push."

That broke the moment.

"Push?" I asked.

"Yes," he said, flashing The Grin, "like when you delivered a baby. I want to kiss your cervix."

"ROGER!" I sort of moan/squealed.

"Push, Torrie, please," he said.

"Oh GOD!" I yelled and pushed, hard, almost afraid I'd lose control and wind up pooping on his chin.

"Good girl," he said, "again."

And I pushed again, HARD, wanting to give him what he wanted and wanting to know what was next.

I screamed at the touch of his tongue. It was a sensation like I never imagined. He had touched some core that was beyond mere sex.

He lifted his head, a thick string of my natural love nectar hanging from his chin, and said, "PUSH, HARD TORRIE."

I screamed and grunted and pushed and felt something move and his mouth was on it and he was sucking and I was climaxing as I had never imagined possible.

"JESUSSSSSSSSSSSSS," I yelled and rolled away from the intensity of what he was doing, rolling onto my side, hugging myself where the pleasure had passed into pain and then back to pleasure.

He snuggled against my back, his hands very soft on my arm, and I could feel him hard against my bottom.

"Wh....." I started and another wave of climax caught me, making me bury my face in the pillow and cry out again.

"Wha...." I started again but he guided himself and entered me from behind where I was so slick and ready, bringing another wave of that pure ecstasy as I felt him inside of me, filling me.

I drew a deep breath, coughed, gasped, and tried again.

As he started moving I started climaxing again. I have no idea at all how many times I came or how often I cried out his name. Time, as they say, stood still and it was just us with our bodies joined and my ecstasy coming in wave after wave until I was too exhausted, to limp, to react anymore.

When I felt the sudden tension of his release, and the sticky warmth as he filled and overflowed me, I cried his name, a loud, long, sigh of pure contentment, and just collapsed.

"What did you do to me," I breathed softly, my body completely spent and enervated to move.

His hand moved down my belly, cupping my sex, touching my clitoris, the hard little button distended and sensitive and sore all at once.

"Prolapse," he said, very softly, his fingertip making little jolts of pleasure blast through me, "is an ugly word for a beautiful thing."

"What?" I managed.

He chuckled and laid his palm flat where I was so swollen.

"That last push sent your entire uterus outside of your body," he said, "I was sucking on your cervix when you came so hard."

"Oh my God," I said, moving to turn over but he held me, not letting me move, "did I, well," and I felt myself blushing, feeling stupid for what I didn't know, "did I hurt anything?"

He chuckled and said, "No, Torrie, unless you call what we just did hurting."

I giggled at that and murmured, "no, that wasn't hurting."

"Wanna do it again?" he asked, his hand still flat against my nether lips.

"Oh honey," I said, "I don't think I could."

He pressed.

"Wanna try?" he said, nuzzling my neck and bringing a wave of goosebumps.

I squirmed around to face him.

"Say it," I said.

He Grinned and said, "prolapse" which made me laugh.

"No," I said, when I stopped laughing, "say it."

He smiled then, a true smile, kissed me, and said, "Torrie, I love you."

And goddammit, I was crying again.

And he was covering my face with kisses again and repeating it, "I love you, I love you, I love you."

I was crying and kissing him back, desperately, clinging to him, my fingers digging into his back, and I was saying it back between my tears.

I was exhausted physically from making love, and emotionally from saying love. I guess it's no surprise that I drifted off.