The Cougar and Me Ch. 02

Chapter Two

I slept too, but woke before her. I don't know how long I lay like that, rolled up on my side, my chin propped in my palm, just watching her sleep. Relaxed in sleep, I could see the beautiful girl she had been and wondered if she had spent her life fighting her weight. That thought made me sad because she looked so damn good like she was. Of course, I am one of those men who believe women SHOULD be soft and round.

She had kicked the covers mostly off, just one leg still under the sheet, and I thought she looked close enough to perfect for me. Her lips were parted slightly and she snored very softly, more a purr than what I would call snoring. There was a bit of a crust around her nose where it had run when we made love and then dried as she slept. Her breasts, relaxed as she slept, were full, the sexy tracery of blue veins offering a map to her nipples which were almost invisible since they were soft. Only the faintest change in the texture showed her areolas and nipples.

Her legs were parted and I thought how much fun I was going to have once I had talked her into letting me wax her. I still remembered fondly the first time I had done that, and what a special intimacy it had been.

Mostly, though, I just looked at her, listened to her, inhaled her scent. It was a pleasant awakening.

I felt more than heard the rhythm of her breathing change and knew she would be waking soon. So I very gently pulled the sheet away and moved, slowly, not wanting to wake her, and worked my knees between hers so that I was on all fours now, my arms extended, looking down at her face.

When her eyes fluttered open I reached down and guided myself, and slipped inside her. She was still slick with last night's semen and I entered her easily. I wanted it to be the first thing she felt as she woke. As her eyes focused I was smiling. I wanted that to be the first thing she saw as she woke.

She reached up and touched my face in that light way, her fingertips lightly tracing my skin, and she smiled.

"You're still here," she said, her voice very thick since she hadn't had a chance to clear her throat yet.

I kissed her, a soft, lingering kiss, and held still, our bodies merged as I held the kiss.

"Where else would I be?" I asked after I broke the kiss, nuzzled her neck just below her ear, and then breathed the question into her ear.

"It's been a long time since I woke up next to a man, David," she said, pushing me away enough to meet my eyes.

"Welllllll," I said, softly, deliberately dragging the consonant out, smiling down at her, "get used to it," I nipped at her earlobe, "because unless you have dynamite around you ain't gettin' me out of here."

And she came.

Just like that.

I felt her belly muscles tighten against mine, and heard the sharp intake of breath, and felt her thick, warm mucus, her natural lubricant, suddenly soaking me.

I still didn't move, simply holding us together, keeping the perfect connection.

She relaxed just as quickly as she had cum and her fingers dug into my back.

"Oh Jesus," she breathed softly, "Oh Jesus," she repeated, "David, God, oh Jesus."

I chuckled, that movement the first I had made while inside of her.

"I take that as a 'well done'," I said, pushing myself up to look down at her.

"David, I never," she started and finally coughed lightly, cleared her throat, and started over.

"David, I don't know how to react," she said, "I've never had anything like this before."

I kissed her, clenching those muscles deep in my belly that would make me move inside of her, and said, "Do you like it?"

"Yesssssssssssssssssss, Jesus, God, yessssssssssssss," she said, pulling me down and kissing me, hard.

"Good," I said, "because I do too."

I started a slow rhythm then, not hurrying at all, but finally moving inside of her.

She spread her legs wider, her heels digging into my ass.

"Yes," she said, "God, David, yes."

With each slow thrust, she repeated that, almost a chant, or maybe an anthem.

And she was flowing in her excitement, I could feel her, warm and slick, and her flow running freely, soaking my cock and balls, taking her beyond merely wet to completely slick.

Her nose was running in concert with what was happening between her legs so I bent, slowly, and licked her upper lip. She giggled at that and said, very softly, "ewww."

"Good sex," I breathed into her ear, "is often messy, LaVerne," and I kissed her, a snot slick, salty kiss and kept the rhythm of my hips going, "but it is NEVER dirty," and I licked her upper lip again.

Her eyes got big as she grunted a second orgasm of the morning.

When the tension left her body I whispered, "again," into her ear.

"David, I don't think I can," she sort of moaned but I kept my rhythm going and said, "again," again.

This time the orgasm was even harder, she jerked under me, trying to sit up against my weight. The feel of her release changed too. It was thin and very warm as I felt her wetting my thighs with her pleasure.

I kept my rhythm going.

She was chanting again, "Oh God, oh Jesus, oh God, oh Jesus."

"One more," I said, speeding my rhythm now, "cum with me now."

"David, I don't," she started but I stopped her with a kiss.

"David," and I stopped her again.

"I love you," I said.

And she exploded. Her physical orgasm was amazing, she squirted and sprayed and the way her vaginal muscles tightened was almost painful.

But what we shared was far, FAR beyond just the physical. She screamed, a wordless shriek at first, and she was bawling. She buried her face in my neck and I could feel her sobbing.

And that broke my control.

As my body pumped my seed deep into her, her fingers dug into my back.

"Don't," she started and another wave left her simply keening a sound best written as, "eeeeeeeeeeeee."

After that wave passed she started again.

"Don't say that, David," she managed before her body made her gasp again with another wave of her pleasure.

"Don't ruin it, please," she said, her body finally relaxing.

As will always happen, nature won out and I softened and slipped out of her so I moved to my side, snuggling so that we touched, skin-to-skin, as completely as I could manage, and I propped my chin into my hand.

"Ruin it?" I asked, seriously not understanding.

"Don't talk of love if you don't mean it," she said.

"LaVerne," I said, holding her eyes with mine now, capturing her left hand with my right, "you honestly don't know?"

It was her turn to look puzzled.

"I've been smitten with you since that first time I saw you come into that bar and wished you had chosen me," I said.

She opened her mouth but I touched her lips with my finger.

"I knew it was love at that first picnic, and I've been falling deeper as we dated," I went on.

Again she opened her mouth and again I touched her lips with my finger.

"So when I say I love you, sweet cheeks," and I kissed one of those sweet cheeks, "you can believe I mean it."

She was crying softly again.

And I was holding her again.

Suddenly she rolled away from me, too quickly for me to stop her.

"If I don't get to the bathroom RIGHT NOW we're going to have a real mess," she said over her shoulder.

I followed at a more leisurely pace and by the time I got to the bathroom she was sitting on the toilet, that interesting hissing sound only a woman peeing can make, looking relieved.

Her eyes got big when I walked in and she murmured a soft, "David," as I bent to kiss her.

I broke the kiss when I heard the hissing stop, pulled off a couple of feet of toilet paper, and started folding it into a pad.

"Let's talk about intimacy, you and me," I said.

Her eyes were still big. "Intimacy?" she asked.

"Yes," I said, reaching down with the pad of toilet paper, and wiping her, carefully, front to back as I had once been taught.

"Oh God," she sort of moaned, but she was smiling at me too.

I kissed her again before I allowed her to stand and then took my place, standing in front of the toilet, my feet spread slightly.

She moved close, her breasts and belly touching my back, and her hands came around to take me into her hand.

"I'll aim," she said and I chuckled.

"Be careful," I said, "you're cleaning up any messes."

When I started she giggled and aimed. When I finished she used her fingers to sort of milk that last couple of drops and then gave it a shake.

I chucked and said, "awww, you've done this before."

She giggled, still holding me, her hand squeezing now very gently, "first time, baby, but it seemed natural."

I reached down and caught her hand in mine and gently detached her.

"Stop it, insatiable wench," I said, slapping her hand lightly, "now let's brush our teeth, and then you can feed me before I'm too weak to take you back to bed."

"Meany," she said, but went to the sink and brushed her teeth as I watched. When she was done I took her toothbrush, loaded it with her Crest, and brushed my own as she watched.

I rinsed and spat and she was still watching.

"What?" I asked.

"Just wondering how far this intimacy thing goes," she said.

"Let's explore it," I said, stepped to her, kissed her, and slapped her ass.

"But first, for the love of God, FEED ME!" I said in my best dramatic cry.

She giggled and headed for the bedroom.

When she swung the door shut and reached for the robe hanging on a hook on the back of the door, I caught her hand.

"Nuh-uh," I said, "I like you like this."

She looked up at me and I thought she looked particularly fetching. A woman looks her best in the daylight in the morning after a night she has been made love to, and LaVerne was a particularly good example of that truism. Her hair, normally nicely coiffed was, not a mess, but was flyaway. The usually smooth cap had sprays and spikes sticking up at random intervals. Her eye makeup was gone, as was her lipstick. I thought she looked particularly good so I kissed her, gently but a nice lingering kiss.

When I broke the kiss she met my eyes again, doing that lips pursed and pulled to the side thing. Call it a "speculative" look.

Then she grinned, hung the robe back up, and started toward the kitchen. I'm pretty sure there was an extra swing in her hips as she walked away from me. In the daylight, her ass looked even better than it had last night. The slight hint of cellulite dimples and those wonderful saddlebags announced to the world that here was a woman, not a giggly girl.

I liked it.

I followed her to the kitchen and sat at her small kitchen table, enjoying watching her move around the room. She was comfortable in the kitchen, moving smoothly to fill her coffee percolator, one of those old fashioned glass things, I think the actual term is Pyrex, with water and set it on the stove, lighting the blue gas flame under it and then moving to a cabinet, pulling out a paper bag of coffee with a name I didn't recognize, laying a paper filter in the bottom of the basket and then spooning coffee into it, assembling a stem and a lid, and putting it into the percolator.

She turned and smiled. "Coffee," she intoned in a dramatic teacher's cadence, "is truly God's gift to us all."

I gave her a thumbs up and just watched.

It was interesting, watching as she accepted being naked in her kitchen, slowly getting accustomed, as she opened the refrigerator, the sudden wave of cold air making her nipples suddenly hard on equally hard cones of her areolas, I noticed that she bent more than was probably strictly necessary, putting her ass on display. She got out a dozen eggs, set them on the counter, then a quart of milk. I whistled, making her giggle, as she bent to get a frying pan out of the bottom cabinet, showing not only her ass, but her pussy peeking out as well, leaking a little of the morning's semen.

One more trip to the refrigerator and she laid a package of bacon on the counter. Then she opened the door to what turned out to be a pantry and looped an old-fashioned bib-type apron over her head and reached behind to tie it. "If you want bacon," she said, "then I get to wear this. Bacon POPS!"

I chuckled and gave her a thumb to forefinger "okay" sign.

The percolator was bubbling by then and it was interesting to watch as the water bubbled up to the top, ran into the basket, and then dripped down slowly diffusing, turning the water in the bottom brown. And it smelled better than any Starbucks ever could. The scent of coffee mixed with her delightful womanscent was starting to work on me.

She smiled as she sat a steaming cup in front of me. "Cream and sugar?" she asked.

"Hot and black, just like my women," I said and she giggled at that.

"Gonna kick me out then?" she asked.

"Jury's out," I responded, taking a sip. It was delicious.

"Welllllll," she said, giving me a quick kiss and then backing away before I could catch her, "at least I can cook."

"Prove it," I said, leaning back, sipping the coffee, and watching her.

She grinned and went to work.

It was interesting watching her. She moved easily and confidently as she put four slices of bread in her four-slice toaster, set a big cast iron frying pan to heating, broke six eggs into a ceramic bowl and poured a little milk into them, and started beating them with a fork. That made for interesting jiggles.

Once the eggs were ready and her pan was hot she started laying the strips of bacon carefully in the hot pan. In about three seconds the wonderful smell of frying bacon mixed with the coffee. I realized I was absolutely ravenous. It only took a few more minutes for her to lay a plate before me. Four strips of bacon. Scrambled eggs, light and fluffy with just a hint of cheese. Toast swimming in butter. A big glass of orange juice. Better than anything I ever got in a restaurant anywhere.

She met my eyes, reached back, untied the apron, and then hung it back on its hook before sitting down across the table from me.

"You know," she said, smiling as she took a drink from her orange juice and then a small bite of the crisp bacon, "this is a first for me."

I could see her eyes look up and to the right and then she said, "hell, it's at LEAST three firsts for me. First time I ever cooked naked. First time I ever ate breakfast naked. First time I ever ate breakfast naked with a man." She giggled a little. "I could probably come up with others."

She looked me in the eye, forked a bit of egg into her mouth, and chewed.

"I think I must be crazy," she said, looking absolutely serious.

I laughed and said, "why?"

"Because," she said, between bites, "I'm sitting here, naked, eating breakfast with a man half my age, thinking of nothing so much as how I intend to jump your bones as soon as we're done eating."

"Well, that's not a bad idea," I said, smiling.

She smiled and went back to eating.

We finished in companionable silence although she looked at me from time to time and smiled a little shyly I thought.

Finished, we did the dishes in that same companionable silence. I washed and she dried because I had no idea yet where things went.

She snapped me on the ass with the wet towel and went running, giggling.

I didn't really try to catch her, it was too much fun watching her run away.

She was waiting for me in the bedroom. It was a good kiss. I liked the way her back and ass felt under my hands. I liked the way her fingers entwined in my hair, holding me to her. I liked the way her tongue flicked out and touched mine. I liked the way her hips moved, that coarse hair on her mons kind of irritating where I was coming erect.

I REALLY liked the way she started kissing her way down my body, kissing and nipping as she went.

On her knees before me, I liked the way she opened her mouth and accepted me.

I liked the way her eyes held mine, looking up across my belly, while she pressed forward, swallowing hard to defeat her gag reflex.

Then it was my turn to entwine my fingers in her hair, holding her there as I slowly pushed until I was all of the way in her throat. The way she was swallowing hard it was almost like she was masturbating me with her throat. She kept going, obviously enjoying it as much as I was.

I felt that delightful pressure building deep in my belly and started stroking her hair.

At the last instant, I pulled free, my semen, thin, watery, almost clear since it was my second time already this morning, spattered on her forehead and in her hair. She was smiling as I came.

"Is this intimate enough for you?" she asked.

I grinned and helped her to her feet.

"It's a start," I said, then I helped her back into the bed.

I headed back to the kitchen, started the water running hot, and found a shallow bowl.

I filled the bowl about three-quarters full, stopped off in the bathroom for a couple of washcloths, and headed back to the bedroom. She was exactly where I had left her.

So I kissed her, my semen tasting oily.

"This," I said, "is intimacy."

I very gently washed her face, taking my time, kissing her as I went. I brushed the biggest dollop of my semen from her hair and then lightly brushed her hair back from her face.

When I started on her left hand, doing each finger individually, she giggled softly and said, "Oh goodness, I could get used to this."

I stopped my washing long enough to kiss her and say, "good, because I intend to do it plenty."

I did her fingers and hands, her fingers oddly long and thin for a big girl, and her forearms, also oddly thin. It was her upper arms that showed that she was really a pretty big girl with those soft fat pads behind her biceps. She giggled when I jiggled them.

I brushed my thumb across her armpit, feeling the coarse stubble there.

"Oh God," she said, squirming, "should have shaved."

I bent and kissed where I had been touching, tasting salty sweat and feeling the scratchy stubble on my tongue. "I'll take care of it," I said as I used the washcloth to gently wash there, chuckling as she squirmed and adding, "note to self - interesting ticklish spot."

She giggled.

I did her other arm the same way, deliberately making her giggle and shriek when I tickled the armpit on that side.

As I washed her breasts I like the way the areolas tightened into hard cones and her nipples stood proud. I kissed each as I washed it and she hummed softly when I took each into my mouth, in turn, and suckled for a few seconds.

I enjoyed the softness of her belly. She didn't have those rolls and creases you associated with a truly fat woman, but a soft layer over surprisingly firm muscles. I carefully washed her ribs and the softness under her ribcage, taking my time. When I got to her belly button and blew a raspberry she giggled and when I cleaned it with the washcloth she squirmed.

I got off of the bed and kissed her, said, "hold that thought," and went into the bedroom to refresh and warm the water.

I thought she had gone to sleep when I got back. She hadn't moved but her eyes were closed and her breathing was slow and regular.

But she hadn't. She smiled and said, "welcome back," when I scooted the little bedside table down and put the bowl of warm water on it before climbing up into the bed, my knees between hers now.

"Thank you," I said, bending and kissing a series of light kisses right at the line of her pubic hair.

I washed the roundness of her pot belly, not an apron like truly fat women get, just a bit of extra roundness. There was enough to squeeze so I squeezed it making her giggle.

She parted her legs as I started washing that beautiful mons, taking my time, being gentle, wanting this to be sensual rather than sexual (and yes, there's a difference).

I washed the cute, feminine saddlebag at her left hip and then the crease where her left nether lip met her thick thigh. I did the nether lip carefully and then very gently lifted the fat pad of her clitoral hood and washed there.