The Journey

"Let me help you" he started to raise up, but she pushed him back and said, "I can manage, don't be so impatient."

It seemed an eternity but then he heard the rasp of the zipper as it slid to the bottom of it's travel and her hand was under the band of his white skivvies gently tugging his shaft straight. She apparently wanted to do a thorough job, even to the point of dragging his nut sack from between his legs and gently rolling his balls apart so that one was by each thigh. "Now, isn't that better?".

"Yes, it's fantastic" he answered, trying not to whimper. His cock was bouncing with each breath and he was feeling electricity shoot through his body. When he tried to brace himself against the sensuous waves of pleasure, he would tighten his groin and his cock would lift slightly.

"I don't think I'm going to hold out very long down there, so, I'd .. uh... try to stay out of the line of fire" he whispered.

"Why, Suh, I'm a good girl and I have no idea at all what you are referring to." Maggie's Scarlet O'Hara was much better than his Rhett Butler, or maybe he was just in no shape to judge.

When she slid her hand out of his underwear, he looked down to see a silvery thread of pre-cum extending from her fingertips to his belly and he almost begged her to put her hand back and please, please finish. He need not have worried, she merely wanted the use of that hand to work with the other one, tugging his jeans down a little further and rolling his briefs inside-out over top, leaving him fully exposed.

"There have been reports of a one-eyed trousah snake lurking somewhere in these bushes, and I am so afraid of snakes, Suh. If you see it, will you please tell my Daddy so he can take his gun and shoot it? Or maybe you have a gun to shoot, do you, Suh?"

Her hands were gently brushing up and down his length, measuring and coating him with a slick sheen of his own juices. Don and I have discussed the way men measure their organs, and he insists that he has "five and a half" measured from where it meets his tummy to the end, and "because you only get credit for the part you can stick in." I think the number is more like eight, because when I place a ruler on him, against his balls where the shaft seems to begin, that's what I get. He's as large in girth as my three biggest fingers bunched together, so, if he doesn't have one the size found in most of these stories, it's enough to make me quite happy. I can only assume, Maggie was also pleased, and Don assures me that he was "bigger back then".

Don managed to pant out "you've found a loaded gun, better be careful, little girl it might go off and hurt someone".

She laid her face against his thigh inches from ground zero, gently stroking him and prolonging the tease. "Is this a single shot or a repeater?"

"Well, it's a bit of both. It goes off and needs to cool a bit, but then it's ready to fire again. If it shoots too many times, it takes longer to cool. I ... uh... think seven times in twenty four hours is the most I ever managed."

"Seven?" she gasped. "Oh Donnie, it's so beautiful. It's lovely and strong and I love touching you." Her act had slipped away for the moment, and Don was rocking and thrusting at the air. She was stretching the skin taut and releasing it as she gazed lovingly at him. This was bittersweet, because he so longed to gaze at her in the same way, touching every square millimeter of flesh, and letting her guide him to what pleased her most.

At last she pulled the blanket over her head. Holding his right hand in her left she clamped her lips around the tender, whitish-scar under his head where he'd been circumcised and bore down with her tongue and lips. Don grabbed her right hand and pressed it to his balls, closing his hand over hers in a wordless request to gently squeeze them. She picked up his desperate rhythm and a second later he gasped and grunted and came totally unglued. His cock throbbed as he spurted up into the blanket with her lips still wrapped around his shaft, and then she slipped her mouth higher and caught the last of it. She swallowed, opulently, and proceeded to lick him clean. Only his frantic tug at her hair stopped her.

"I won't have a mind left if you keep doing that. My God, Maggie, I must have died because only heaven could feel that wonderful."

"You weren't serious about seven, were you?" His cock was shrinking fast to more compact proportions.

"Actually I was. Of course, that was sort of a one-man-operation. With a woman to assist, I might do better. With you, I can't begin to guess."

The sun was slanting low on the horizon and they cuddled, at last beginning to unburden their personal miseries and delight in each other's company and unabashed honesty. "We should really head back" she sighed, "it gets dark rather suddenly out here once the sun hits the water."

So they had gathered their things. She slipped her bra on and snuggled against him as he closed the back. He'd pulled his shorts up but she insisted on doing his zipper. He was glad he had dry underwear to change into back at the bungalow.

* * * * *

Maggie had prepared hamburgers and there was some corn bubbling in the pot. While Don browned the burgers on the charcoal grille, she grabbed a shower and put on a running suit. When Don had stepped into the back yard of the little borrowed bungalow, he was much surprised to find that it was a little haven from the busy world, with a stockade fence, a vegetable garden, a tree with a tire swing, and one most unusual accessory. By sitting on the patio and looking over the fence, you could see almost the complete surface of a large outdoor movie screen. Maggie explained that her sister's home was right next door to a drive-in movie, but they just watched from the patio. The owners of the theater, an elderly couple, even provided speakers to each of the adjoining yards in hopes of keeping good neighborly feelings going. "Are we going to the drive in?" he asked. "No, silly, we're going to watch from right here, with our own popcorn and sodas. I wish you didn't have to leave at intermission, the second feature is supposed to be a good one."

He took her into his arms and told her solemnly, "I don't think I ever stopped loving you and I'll be here as long as you want me to be."

"I understand that now, Don, and tonight I'm going to try and fix every hurt I've ever given you."

"How can you think that? It was I that failed you. You were ever sweet and wonderful, my angel, my bad girl."

"Go get your shower the movie will start any minute now."

* * * *

He'd shaved very close and sprinkled on some "English Leather" before donning his white button-down shirt and a pair of charcoal slacks. When he came into the yard, Maggie was sitting in a little patio swing, looking ever so lovely. He smelled her perfume as soon as he opened the door and her hair was brushed out long and tied with a pink ribbon. She'd changed again into a simple white cotton sweater, which clung to her fabulous breasts as if it had been painted on. It was then he noticed her skirt, a red tartan kilt with a tiny flash of gold at the opening. Her legs were somewhat darker than the rest of the skin and he realized that she was wearing stockings. The details were flooding back to him now, he'd remembered the kilt, but not the sweater, but it sure seemed familiar. Even the pink ribbon was the same!

"That CAN'T be the same outfit that you wore to the drive-in that night?"

"Why can't it? You're not the only sentimental one around, you know."

He slid in beside her and took a rope of her hair, bringing it to his face and inhaling deeply. "You even smell the same."

"Is that a compliment or a complaint?"

He pressed her into the corner, kissing her hungrily, his hands drawing her close, her breasts molding themselves to his chest.

"Hmm" she murmured. She patted the seat beside her. The show was starting.

"Maggie, I want to thank you for this afternoon. It was incredible. Damn, why is this so difficult to say? I'm not complaining... the sex was, unbelievable... but even more than that... I loved looking at you and touching you. That was really all I wanted. You didn't have to..."

"Stop. You men are so selfish. Why is everything about what you want?" but she was smiling and he realized that she was just egging him on.

"I think it's my turn again. This is a really great game, your turn is ... well the most fun I can have without knowing what's going to happen, and my turn is, oh, God, like Christmas and my birthday all rolled into one."

"That's the general idea, isn't it?"

A few citronella candles lit the backyard and the house lights were off. It had been a warm day, but the breeze carried the smell of salt and it was a bit chilly, so they huddled together. She unfastened the pin in her kilt, saying teasingly "We don't need this, do we?"

They were kissing and her fingers were in his hair, almost grabbing him by the ears to gobble up his mouth. She was panting as hard as he when she slid into his lap and spread her skirts over his legs. He slid his hand between her sweet knees and stroked the skin with the back of his hand, almost shaking under the sensory overload of her perfume, her kisses, and what to him was provocative dress.

She drew up her hem revealing two long black garter straps and those compelling bands of gradient color around her shapely thighs. She was reading him so well. "There's a line here, darling, do you see it?"

He nodded. "Well, for you and tonight, it's a starting line. On your mark, get set, GO!"

He wasted no time in pushing her skirt the rest of the way to her hips and running his hands over her lower body, so decorated with slick nylon and dark satin. She was wearing the garter belt on top of her appliquéd panty and he moaned a little, wondering how he was going to get past it.

"Did I get it, right? I'm a good girl aren't I?"

"Yes, of course you are!" If those panties had been constructed of fine porcelain instead of rayon and elastic, he would not have handled them more delicately and with more of enthusiast's interest. Like a serious art lover at a gallery opening, he sat and admired and craved what was at last his to behold. His fingers teased along the decorative lace slightly offset to the left of center, and then slid blissfully along the faint outline of their midpoint, soliciting the most hearty of sighs from both of them. Her perfume wafted over him, tinged with the faint musk of her growing arousal. He fingered the lace and elastic straps emerging alongside her thigh and then kissed from the button folded in her stocking to the place where the strap disappeared, and then along the sweet bulge of her mound as her moans became more frantic. Don's eyes still glow when he tells this part of the story and I know he kissed and fondled her lingerie as much to arouse himself as her. What a temptress she must have been to still have such power over him after all the intervening years.

"It's only that ...", he began.

"Only what? Is something bothering you, darling? Oh silly me, we need Cokes. Just sit there a second and I'll go get them."

She fled before he could stop her. He sat in the darkness wondering how he could have read it so wrong. He asked himself, "Am I supposed to ask her, or force her, is that what she wants?"

Maggie seemed to take a while with the drinks, but she reappeared with them on a tray with a bowl of popcorn. When she stepped in front of him, she halted, and tugged up the side of her kilt. "Look at that, brand new stockings and a runner already."

Don went along with it, though he didn't actually see anything wrong, in fact her legs looked scrumptious, and he meant it in ever sense of the word. She'd left the patio light on this time and she planted her left foot on the swing by his right thigh and continued to complain about the stocking. This time Don realized he could see quite an expanse of Maggie and her garter belt, and her panties were AWOL.

When he looked up into her eyes she whispered softly, "The good girl is taking a nap, I thought you might enjoy the other one for a while."

He reached around her and cupped her sweet, bare ass over the lines of the straps now just making a slight indentation in her firm flesh. He slid forward and planted his lips on the inside of her left thigh and sucked until he felt tiny blood vessels bursting in her skin. Unfortunately the swing was unstable and it was not a position she could maintain well.

"Maggie, I know this is going to sound pretty pervy... but can we go into the living room or something? I want good lighting so I can really see."

She took him by the hand and led him into the small living room and turned on both of the end table lights. As she bent for the second one, Don came up behind her, hugging her and whispering how happy he was. He folded back her skirt and dropped to his knees, licking her thighs and pressing himself against her cunt from behind. Maggie gripped the back of the sofa and moaned enthusiastically. "I wasn't trimming then, so I can't make it exactly the same. I hope you don't mind."

"It's wonderful and delicious, I don't care a bit" he answered quickly and went back to licking the puffy lips between her legs with their light covering of short brown fuzz.

Maggie pulled away for a second, but only to get her bottom on the couch, planting her feet wide on the coffee table and pulling her skirt up over her eyes as if she were embarrassed. Don dove like a submarine and came up between her thighs, pulling her body forward to the very edge of the couch. He licked up and down the soft line of her "landing strip", the first he'd ever seen, and gently opened her pink puffy petals with his fingertips before pressing his flat tongue to the glistening pink gash.

"Oh God, you don't know how long I've wanted this."

"You have no idea how many times I've thought about it."

Maggie was tensing her legs and lifting her ass to meet his mouth. She grabbed his hand and pulled up her sweater and brassiere in one pass, placing his hand on her hard right nipple.

"Right there.. oh yes... like that... oh God.. that feels so fucking good...."

Her high voice went up a couple of octaves and she was pawing at him and thrusting and screaming all at the same time.

"Imgoonaaacumagin... I oh... fuckkkkkkkkkmmmmmmmmmmmmmmeeeeeeeeee eeeeeeeeee"

She pushed her pelvis so hard into his face that she split his lip a little against his teeth and he tasted some blood mixed in with her compelling flavor.

"Oh God.. that was the best, Don... oh shit.. honey.. why didn't you..."

But Don wasn't slowing down. He slathered her ass with saliva and plunged his middle finger into her tight sex while stroking her star with his pinky. I don't know if Don figured that one out on his own or someone taught him, but it's one hellatiously effective maneuver. Don licked upward taking her button between his lips and worrying it like a terrier. Maggie was racking the sofa with her nails looking for some sort of purchase and bucking wildly into his mouth, opening his lip wider. Don was beyond pain and he stood his post like a trouper. He pressed up with the finger in her twat and flicked his tongue from side to side across her clit until Maggie exploded a second time. This time she pushed him away and lay there desperately trying to get her breath. Don managed to get in close again, basking in her rich feminine fragrance and watching her labia return to normal size. Silver threads hung across her opening, saliva or her juices, perhaps both, mute testimony to how wonderful that part of her was. He gently tugged short curls of her sopping hair and released them. He adored the lines of her garter belt crossing her perfect, white skin.

When she finally opened her eyes and saw Don's lip, she was horrified. "Donnie, you're bleeding. Did I do that?"

He wiped his fingers across it absentmindedly, he was still drinking in the sight of the thing that had so intrigued him. The magazine was definitely a gyp, and he privately decided this was every woman's best side. (He's not really a legman, he's a "pussy man.")

Maggie rushed to the kitchen to get an ice cube and profusely apologized to him, "I'm so sorry, I was just having such a good time and I didn't realize I was hurting you. Why didn't you stop me?"

"Are you kidding? Kill me if you want, I want to go eating your pussy. If there's such a thing as reincarnation, I'm coming back as your panties so I can be touching you there forever."

It was a pretty vulgar thing to say, but it was exactly the kind of things lovers do say to one another. She kissed him gently, avoiding his poor lip, and whispered, "You have a deal, but I may die of pleasure first", and then she shivered, "God, I'm still having aftershocks. I've never had two back to back like that. God, what a lover you are!"

They stood there in the kitchen a long time, her holding the ice cube to his lip, he with an arm around her back and her drying juices on his face.

"Did I hear you say something earlier about staying as long as I wanted?"

"Yeah, well I sort of told my dad I might not be home until around noon tomorrow. He was going to tell my Mom around now." He paused, looked at his watch, which read, 8:30 PM, and said "Yeah, I think I heard her screaming about an hour ago, or maybe that was you?" He grinned.

"Pretty sure of yourself aren't you, mister?"

He looked down, genuinely crestfallen, and answered honestly. "I just wanted to be prepared and I sort of hoped."

"Well, you're lip will be better in the morning anyway."

So they put things up and neatened the patio. The dishes were washed. Working together it took almost no time.

"I expect my sister by noon, so maybe you should be out early anyway. How about 11:59 AM?"

"Perfect."

She led him by the hand upstairs. In telling this, Don never mentions the bedroom, or any details save how Maggie looked when she peeled off her clothes in front of him, and then turned her back modestly to slip into a long, almost transparent white gown. He remembers how beautiful she was from the back, with the white of her buttocks and the gentle curve of her sides, like a cello, like a Stradivarius cello to be precise.

He folded his slacks and put them on the hanger under his shirt. Placing everything in a neat pile next to the closet where his things were hung. They'd brushed their teeth side by side, her even more naked because of the wisp of a gown she wore. He stroked his chin to be sure he was still smooth, and then decided to do a quick once over anyway. She was in the bed with the covers over her legs when he stepped from the bathroom door. He stumbled and clutched at his heart, "Don't worry, I plan to die with a smile on my face."

"Let's see ... it's my turn, and you've only cum once, hours ago." She looked at the clock, "It's 10 PM, so you have 14 hours or so, that works out to ... uh ... just over four times."

"Smart girl", he said, slipping into the bed naked on the side nearest the bathroom. Don and I have always felt that the best thing about us is that we can talk, about sex, of course, but a whole world of other things as well. He says that only Maggie came close to talking as much as me, and I don't analyze that too closely. I'm not even sure if I want to win that particular contest, but I do understand that the talking is very important. He can be impetuous, but he always has a general plan to work around. Maggie also had a plan that night.

"Donnie?"

"Yes, my love?"

"By my count I've had three orgasms and you've only had one and you might have four or five more tonight, right?"

"Well, when I have one, I sort of lose interest in sex for a while, but I don't mind waiting to have my one. If you can manage to come five or six times before I do, that's perfect. That way when my turn comes, I don't have to feel guilty"