Katy Kisses

Eventually I lay spent. I sagged, limp and panting while Ivana gazed at me with such tenderness in her eyes.

"I loved you from the start," she murmured. She lowered her eyes shyly at this new revelation. "You were so kind to me."

"All these years?" I marvelled at the longevity of her emotions. I pulled Ivana close and hugged her while the ripples of pleasure softened. Then I added softly, "Shall we go up to bed?"

Ivana followed me up the stairs to the bedroom. Hand in hand in a re-enactment of our first meeting. What a world apart between the two occasions however, we were no longer those two little girls, and it was in that room I tasted Ivana for the first time. She lay back, propped up on a pillow, and offered herself to my lips and tongue.

I explored every inch of her body, marvelling at the soft texture of her skin. I massaged her taut back, running my thumbs down the canal of her spine, tickling her flanks with my nails so she shivered and giggled like a girl. We kissed each other's mouths, sighing and panting as our fingers touched slippery, secret places, and I experienced a thrill of achievement when Ivana finally came heavily on my hand.

I recall the intent look on Ivana's face and understood that she was committing each moment to memory. If she was like me, she would unlock those secrets when she was alone, examining each detail from every possible angle, re-living each sigh, moan, and subtle nuance of our lovemaking, enjoying the whole scene over again.

I split the delicate folds of her labia with my tongue and probed at the hot, liquid opening of her sex. The sound of her gasp made my own insides clench as my clitty and bruised nipples throbbed anew. The slick smoothness of her labia under my tongue aroused me; I never knew that pleasuring a woman with my mouth would be such an enjoyable experience. It was so different from the texture of a penis. I had nothing to take into my mouth, no invader, but the moans and sighs as I manipulated Ivana's tight clitoris with my tongue spurred me to greater efforts.

At one point Ivana virtually dragged me up to her face and sucked greedily at my tongue. She grinned at me lewdly when she broke the kiss with a loud smack and our lips parted.

"I wanted to kiss myself from your tongue," she said before pushing me back down between her legs.

Ivana's first climax brought on by me was dangerous. She began slowly with tiny groans and little squeaks, which then grew rapidly into a crescendo as she came like a steam train. Her limbs thrashed, she clawed at the bed sheets and left the covers in rumpled confusion. I looked up at her face and saw the cords on her neck stretched and taut. Her eyes clamped tight, and her facial contortion gave the impression she was in physical pain. She grunted in a most inelegant way, but I knew exactly how she felt, she had to give voice to the flood of those feelings that boiled inside her, those sounds were a safety valve.

Eventually she calmed, panting and weak she looked at me and smiled wanly. "I love you," she whispered, but I couldn't return those words and a spear of sadness caused the tears to well in my eyes.

I moved close to Ivana on the ruin of the bed and held her close. I wanted to love her and started to speak, to try to explain, but Ivana shushed me and I cried quietly in her arms while she stroked my hair.

We slept in fits and starts, one or the other waking at intervals to begin the whole cycle all over again. Our lovemaking was softer and gentler at these times; she was so sweet, so gentle, but so adept! On one occasion I woke, groggy but groaning with lust to find Ivana licking me again, while at another time all I had to do was roll her onto her back as I kissed the sleep away and she opened her thighs with indecent haste, eager for my fingers and tongue once more.

In the morning, late morning as it went, there was no awkwardness, no hint of post-coital embarrassment when I woke up to see her naked and smiling, a big, steaming mug of coffee in each hand.

"How do you feel?" she immediately asked.

I grinned at her concern. "Fine," I replied and took a mug from her.

"Really?" The relief was in her voice.

"Yes, really."

I didn't know where we were going. I had no idea; I only knew that, for the moment, I wanted to be with Ivana. I wanted her completely. It wasn't love, not for me, and there was still the question of me liking a hard man, but for that day, maybe the week, month, or even year, she was enough.