The Devil Comes Out at Night Pt. 04

I remember my nipple, swollen so hard and tingling with energy, being bathed in the warm wetness of her slowly moving tongue. I remember her lips closing around it. I remember having an orgasm.

I was still up on my knees, and Jeana took care of me, holding my unexpectedly shuddering body upright. Her mouth never gave me up, and I was glad of it. So glad. It was my left breast, and it had never felt the way it was feeling, never launched me the way that it did. My head was still back, rag-doll-like on my limp neck. Stuttering, moaning breaths lifted from my open mouth. I was gone, lost in a swirl of sweet rum and hot sun, lost in Jeana's arms.

Her mouth moved to my right breast, and her hand claimed my left. The arm that was holding me up moved down. I remember arching my back, the way she does, deeply curved, giving my tits to her, so firm and big and electrified in her mouth and hand. I felt fingers down under my ass, searching for my pussy. I was wet and ready for them. So ready.

Her fingers slid through my wetness and they circled and moved, finding my clit, circling and moving some more. She bit down on my nipple and I came again.

"Wow," she said. "You've got the magic today."

I wanted to say, It's you! You're the magic!, but I didn't.

"Lie down," she said. "Let me taste you."

It was a line right out of a porn and it made me dizzy. All I could manage to get out was a breathy, "Oh God!"

I remember how hot the cushions felt, from the sun beating down on them. I remember giggling like crazy, but that time all the giggles were inside my head. I remember Jeana kissing my pussy.

I watched her do it, on her knees with her back arched low like a stretching cat. I saw her lips kiss my tenderness, slow and wet, the way she'd kissed my mouth. And then I saw her tongue and she was a cat again, lapping at her juicy treat. I knew she didn't know what she was doing because we'd talked about having no experience, but it mattered not. She made me cum again. Effortlessly. I was putty in her elegant, slender hands. My mind was swirling with love and desire. I had to taste her. I just had to.

I remember Jeana on her back, looking like one of Donald's dreams. I straddled her thighs and kissed her mouth. I kissed her chin. I kissed her soft breasts and her delicate nipples. Her warm skin was pebbly with goosebumps and I kissed all of that, too, all the way down her flat tummy. I repositioned myself inside her legs and my hands caressed her tender inner thighs and she opened them for me, wide, lifting her legs in the warm summer air. My first taste of her sweet juice was accompanied by a symphony of sounds I'll never forget: seagulls high above; the drone of a speedboat; my husband's moan; the sound of Bob's hand stroking his big cock; and a breathy sigh escaping from deep inside Jeana's happy body. She was lost, too, and after a few blissful minutes she thrust her tits toward the heavens and cried out in orgasmic joy. I felt the magic. I'd made her cum.

That was how it started, my new taste for women, my consummated love for Jeana. Both of us inexperienced. Both of us realizing it didn't matter. Once we'd broken the ice we rolled on those blazing hot cushions and explored each other. Bob had fun calling out direction, helping us on our journey of discovery...

"Rub your pussies together; scissor fuck."

"Lick her asshole; she likes that."

"Straddle her head and get her face all wet with your pussy."

"Sixty-nine each other. Don and I are both going to fuck whoever's on top."

It was a day of unrestrained hedonistic pleasure, the likes of which I'd never known. Thinking back on that afternoon, a passage of scripture came to mind. I searched for it in the big Bible that rests on a stand in Reverend James' office, and I found it...

2 Corinthians 11:14

"And no wonder, for even Satan disguises himself as an angel of light."