I Want Your Sex

Here's the incredible part.

For all my lack of orgasm control I'd been well behaved under Dave's delightful onslaught. Okay, so I'd cum on her tongue half a dozen times but, tribbing-wise, I'd been a paragon of virtue. Now, watching her face as she beat me to the inevitable . . .

Well I raced up plateau after plateau, heading for the highest peaks.

Then Dave just stopped cumming and passed her orgasm to me.

Incredible though it seems, that's how it was. We were like Olympic relay runners handing over a baton. One moment it was hers, next it was mine.

It's easy to conclude I'm off in gaga-land but I'm not. To the end of my days I will swear that Dave handed that orgasm over to me.

And it was all the better for it.

Now that's what I call "sharing".

If I was making this up I'd lie and say we passed the same orgasm back and forth forever. But we did not. After sharing that amazing, mind-boggling experience we tribbed on, generally cumming in turns, occasionally cumming as one.

And take it from me; even if those subsequent cums lacked the allure of that passed-on one, they were all exceptionally good.

No, they were better than good, they were splendid.

Except "splendid" as a word can't begin to sum it up.

"Magnificent" doesn't even come close . . .

*****

Around nine in the evening Dave suggested wine.

'I don't fancy the pub,' I answered dubiously.

'Don't worry; we're only going as far as my kitchen. Come on, shake a leg. We've got flowers to put in water.'

Naked, we went downstairs and encountered a problem: Dave didn't have a single vase. Neat and tidy as her home was, there was not a single ornament to be seen. Her décor was tasteful but no more than functional. If we'd been in search of any sort of IT kit we'd have been spoilt for choice, but vases were right out.

Conductive wires, adapters, things that normal folk couldn't even begin to describe . . .

Treasures from the Ming dynasty were rarer by far than anything ornamental in Dave's place.

And I admired her all the more for that. Hunters Farm isn't quite as Spartan as hers but it's along the same lines. I prefer mirrors to fancy pots and elaborate figurines.

Why pretend to be pretentious? Why not proudly be oneself.

In the end we compromised by using two wine carafes, one in the lounge and the other on Dave's kitchen table, six roses in each, all artistically arranged by me (as if I have one single artistic bone in my body). Then, parking our bums on wooden chairs at said table, we sipped chilled white.

And then I had her on the granite worktop.

How exquisite was that. It was the first time I'd tasted her and she tasted like nectar. Believe me, I could not get enough.

Setting off at right angles to the lie of the land I did my best to match her doctorate in you-know-what. Dave seemed to like that. She seemed to like being pushed through ninety degrees too.

Blowing my own trumpet, she seemed to like everything I did as an active lover. If she liked it half as much as I did . . .

Well, we'd have been two happy bunnies, wouldn't we?

And we were happy. We really, really were.

Eventually, burying her hands in my mane of black hair, she pulled my tongue up and away from my new very-best, friendliest, most receptive vagina.

'Bed,' she gasped. 'Let's go back to bed.'

Having the presence of mind to slurp down the dregs of my vino I nodded.

'Is it my turn?'

'You bet it is.'

'Have you got a toy drawer?'

'Yes, and you can use anything you like.'

'Ditching my empty glass I lifted her off her expensive work surface and grinned at her.

I was as sold on that suggestion as any girl has ever been.

*****

Turned out Dave only had one toy drawer, but it was well stocked. I immediately homed on her pair of strapless devices. I had exactly the same models in my middle drawer except in different colours. Selecting the longer one (in a tasteful green) I pushed her down and shagged her.

And shagged her and shagged her and shagged her.

After seemingly hours she invited me to give her a spanking. Strangely reluctant, I kissed her ass instead. Then I took her from behind but in her fanny and very, very gently.

Well, firmly and powerfully, but gently at the same time.

Then she shoved me onto my back and rode me as if her life depended on it.

Wasn't she a good rider! Sometimes bolt upright, bouncing on me, sometimes horizontal, slowly grinding, sometimes somewhere in-between (co-incidentally permitting me to play with her erect nipples), she rode me every which way.

There's no exaggeration when I say she was good. I really get off on strapless affairs but I reckon it's better to receive, more or less. Not with Dave. No, with Dave it's just better, full stop.

Who knows what time it was when we finally came like twin volcanoes. She was still on top of me, I remember that. By then we were breathless, very weary and very, very happy.

'I love you,' I said, kissing up at her adorable snub of a nose.

'Huh,' she countered, evidently pre-warned, 'you say that to everyone.'

There was truth in that and I wasn't about to lie.

'I have enough love for zillions,' I said, 'but I want today to be special. I want today to be the start of something.'

Dave kissed my nose in her turn.

'I do too,' she whispered.

Then she fell asleep.

Perhaps five seconds later so did I.

Afterword

We woke late Sunday morning, ten thirty if not after. There on our backs, side by side, our hands already busy on each other, mine on her nipples, hers high on the inside of my thigh.

'Do you ever take off your glasses?' I wondered.

'No. I like to see what I'm doing, you very much included.'

I chuckled at that and assured her I liked to see everything she did too.

'Lots and lots,' I added, as if she wasn't already convinced.

'I wonder if those two got past your geese,' Dave said.

I'd forgotten all about "those two". And to be honest, at that moment I couldn't care less.

'Ask me if I'm bothered. We'll find out at noon, won't we? I won't give them brain space until then.'

Then Dave took me by surprise. 'I don't want to spend this afternoon with Lizzie,' she said.

That possibility hadn't previously occurred to me. I'd assumed that, as I'd set off with Lizzie, if the swap hadn't worked, I'd simply get her back. Swapping again, getting a third partner over a long and lusty weekend . . .

Well, the wanton whore in me agreed that the idea had its attractions.

Or did it?

'I want to stay here with you,' I told Dave. 'I don't care about geese or however much they have or have not enjoyed themselves. I want more, more, more.'

'Do you mean more, more, more of me?'

'Yes, yes, yes; a thousand times yes.'

'Is that to the extent of not turning up in the pub?'

I turned my head and kissed Dave. She sucked on my tongue and inched higher up my thigh.

'Bugger them,' she said after a blissful interlude. 'Let's stay here.'

I thrust my groin up against her hand and practically cooed.

'Here sounds good. Let's stay here forever.'