The Panther

I spread her thighs and Helen opened them more than willingly to allow my tongue to slide, ever so slowly, up the soft-silky inside of one. In crossing over to lick down the other thigh, my tongue passed only furtively over her pussy's pouty lips. God, weren't they waiting to be kissed! On my next journey up, her half-swallowed mewing and a quiver in her thighs that opened wider and wider told me what Helen hoped for, wanted. Was it as new to her as I hoped? If so, how did she know what to wish for? With each passing-over of my tongue her ass lifted, pressed closer, tempting my tongue onto the offered lips. Also, with each passing, her moaning got louder, her fingers clawed harder into the sheets, and her ass lifted higher as she tried to make her quivering cunt arrest my passing mouth.

I reached under her thighs and my mouth closed finally over her fleshy lips for a long, first lick and taste of Helen's luscious pussy. Her gasped outcry of "Yes!" was followed by moans and whimpers as she ground her quivering, hot-opening gash against my mouth. My tongue dove in deep, twirling in her tangy juices and tempting the cunt's inner opening with even deeper intrusion. Helen screamed out a last ecstatic "God ....Yes!". The flow of juices and the shivering of her thighs told me that she was on the brink of coming hard. I released her and growled: -

"Don't you dare to really come! This is only our foreplay, an appetiser. And how I love your sweet-spicy taste! We'll fuck. Fuck harder and longer and sweeter than you have ever fucked before. Don't dare to come before me."

Helen whispered an only half-appreciative -- "Oh, Ben .... too much .." - and began to turn over when I stopped her in the move: -

"Don't you want to get fucked from behind? Don't you like to fuck like that?"

I did not give her time to think and lifted her on her knees. I had waited for this and was rock hard and Helen proved more than willing. I had kissed her pussy-lips slippery-open and my cock slid smoothly into her hot, gripping tightness. Helen's arms stretched out and she pressed her face with a cry into the sheet. I fucked her sensuously with deep, at first slow strokes, while my hands freely over her back, her sides, her hips and fondled her beautiful ass. It shivered under my hands and ground back on my cock as if urging me to fuck her harder. For a long moment again, I held still in her cunt's hot grip and told her: --

Hold it back. Don't come. Tell me when to stop, right at your brink of coming. Then tell me when you want more, what you want. Ask for it! Don't be silent."

Helen murmured what I took for agreement and recovered from her mini-storm. Her ass began again to grind seductively against my deeply enfolded member. The body-language was clear but I wanted to hear Helen's words. So, I held still and pretended to grumble: -

"What do you want now? Say it."

She twisted and rubbed her breasts against the sheet, stifling a laugh: -

"More, please. I want more."

"Of what? Say it."

Laughing out loud she almost shouted: -

"I want to be fucked! By you ... your cock! I love it! Fuck me! Fuck me hard! Now!"

Then she pressed her face into the sheet to strangle her laughter.

This exchange caused a break of mood. Rarely welcome in love-making, this time it was. We had pulled back from a, for greedy us, premature climax. When we began again, therefore, I could thrust my cock into her expectantly raised cunt with a vigour that earlier would have had me undone. I felt strong. Helen made me feel irresistible, twice the man and lover I had ever been and I was determined to fuck this hot-sexy woman into a lust-demented finale of pleasure. I fucked her as hard as I've ever fucked a woman. When I reached around her body and slid two fingers, on top of my thrusting cock, deep into her cunt, she responded with a drawn-out shriek that changed to breathless moans as my now slippery fingertips found and pressed and circled her clit. So, we fucked for long, long minutes. Every time I stopped, she took up the thrusting, half screaming -- "Ben! Ben! .... Don't stop! Fuck me! .... Harder! .... Yes! Fuck me!"

Eventually, however, it was Helen that cried out: -- "Stop! Please, stop or I'll die!"

I, in my trance would have missed this point of no return and would have been sucked down into the maelstrom of a major orgasm. I almost cramped, trying to stay stock-still. What made it hard, was that Helen was still shivering and squirming and mewing and her grinding cunt was milking my cock. I had to withdraw, or I would have come. Looking down I saw that my cock was thickly covered in her juices, and they were dripping down her thighs. She had cheated, come hard but she was insatiable in her need for more. When I thrust my cock, after a short rest, once again into her now so fucked-open, slippery cunt, she screamed out her - "Fuck me, Ben! .... Please! Fuck me hard!"

For Helen it was no longer a build-up to a climax. From this point on her screams and every fibre and muscle of her twisting body urged me on to fuck her through wave after wave, trigger-point after trigger-point of a long, continuing climax. She screamed and convulsed, her arms thrashed, and her fingers clawed the sheet in a frenzy, her body arched up, twisted, tried to break out of my grasp, only to thrust and grind her ass once more against cock and teasing fingers. Finally, I just exploded, coming in a climax in which the triumph was all hers.

We collapsed into an almost reverent silence. I felt no shame about what I had become. I spooned her, pressing my body into the curvature of her back, one hand cupping a breast, the other over her lubricous sex. Finding no words, I wanted her to know how much I had wanted what she had given away in her abandonment. When I kissed her neck, she gave a contented sigh and snuggled closer, but then freed herself and swung her legs out of bed. She said: -- "I think it's time for a coffee-break? You agree?"

She went to the bathroom. When she came out, on her way to the kitchen she stopped at the bedroom's door to tell me she would bring me my coffee. Helen was still gloriously naked and my admiration must have shown. She pulled her shoulders back, placed one leg forward, and angled her arms. It was an invitation that shouted 'Look'. Giggling, as she turned to leave, she said: -

"I better stay naked. I know now what my stripping does to you."

While Helen was gone, I went to have a piss and quick wash. She came back with two mugs, placed them on the bedside tables and skipped into bed. She told me to behave and not to spill anything on 'our' bed. She was in high spirits, bubbling over in merriment and excitement. There was no sign of regret or guilt for having broken her marriage-vow on the marital bed. There was no evasion, no search for excuses.

Sitting in bed, sipping our coffee, she told me how happy she was that the 'Panther' was out of the cage and that it/she had found me to sate her appetite for, in her words "dirty, beautiful sex"! She openly relished talking about our love-making, savouring each newfound or long avoided, word. We sat close to each other and she had lifted one of her legs over mine. She meant it as an invitation. My hand stroked up and down the silky inside of her thigh while she talked. Whenever fingers neared her pussy, they were captured against its enticing warmth by Helen's closing thighs. When we lay down again and embraced and Helen felt my growing erection, she chuckled: -

"Ben! What's wrong with you?"

I kissed her with a suggestion of tongue and asked: -

"Wrong? Are you disgusted or displeased with me and my cock?"

She made me wait for her answer: -

"I've never, not even when I was young, been with a man that did or wanted to fuck me more often than once at a time."

Not wanting to let it rest she continued: -

"But what is it with you? How can you do it, again and again? Are you a sex-athlete or just hungry, starved for sex?"

Helen had managed to return to the query and my avoided answer from earlier in the shower. She wanted to know about my sex-life and marriage. I thought it best to plainly tell the truth.

So, I told her, firstly, that I believed that a limp or quickly wilting dick was with men rarely due to physical factors. With men being romantics, it was an absence of desire: Their brain telling their cocks that sex with a particular woman was not worth having or having more of.

I grinned at Helen and told her that my, to her so surprising state of almost permanent arousal was entirely due her. It was the sexual magic between us. I responded to her permanent state of arousal and how she showed her desire for wanting to fuck, again and again! And she was irresistible beautiful and sexy. Regarding her second query I assured her that I was not starved for sex.

It took Helen a while to come up with her next question. She found it hard. Gnawing on her lower lip she cuddled up close. In a low voice she asked: -

"When was the last time you and Erika made love?"

Helen had met Erika and remembered her name. I had to smile about her difficulties. I told her that we made love last night.

"And was it good?" she asked. To make up for her intrusive question, her lips quickly searched for mine to stop me from answering and to forgive my expected silence.

I decided there was no need for me to hide the truth. She had asked, and I readily admitted that yesterday's love-making with Erika was lengthy, intense and that it became, for both of us, the most enjoyable sex we had had in a while. And it was due to her, Helen. My state of arousal had built up over the week because I knew that I would meet her today, fuck her today. She had promised so much; I knew we would have wonderful, uninhibited, adventurous sex.

I told her that Erika, being a sexually alive woman quickly responded to the vibes, to my state of arousal. It did not occur to her that there was something amiss or to suspect. We had met as illicit lovers and sex had always been, perhaps, our strongest bond. She knew she was beautiful and sexy and that I desired her. While my state of arousal last night was fuelled by her, Helen, it was only a small betrayal. We fucked and made love in total involvement with each other. What made it extra special was that we made love in a way that we had neglected for quite a while.

Helen listened silently. As I had expected, she gave no sign of shock or distress. Not only had she not drawn away from me, but her hand had found my cock to make love to. Eventually she said, her voice free of emotions: -

"Erika and you are lucky in what you give each other, what you still want from each other. I envy you. The last time Jurgen and I made love was twenty-seven days ago in the morning. It lasted, perhaps, three minutes. Then he rushed in the bathroom. I made breakfast and Jurgen raced off to work."

I knew there was more to tell, but it could wait. Helen, her body and hand, gave every indication that far from dampening her appetite the story of my fuck with Erika had raised it anew. We sank into long succulent kissing and her hand persuaded the tip of my cock into a long session of kissing her nether-lips lusciously open. As a long-time masturbator it was for her a newly discovered way of pleasing her pussy. Whilst it delighted her, my story had raised her appetite for a heartier meal: -

"Ben, are we going to make love, like you did with Erika, in that special way too?"

I replied that it was up to us both to discover our special ways to pleasure each other. I told her how exciting it will be to know that each meeting could bring a new, sexy surprise. As per now, I whispered in her ear, she thrilled and surprised me again by how sexily, stealthily she guided my cock, centimetre by hot centimetre, into her pussy. As she did so I kissed her, my tongue replicating the slinky invasion below. My lips stayed on hers and my tongue wrestled with hers while we fucked; I drunk her breath, her whimpers, her laughter and more and more her cries. My fingers dug into her buttocks as my cock thrust deep. Then I stopped, held still, waited for our excitement to subside. Eventually, between kisses, I breathed into her mouth the question: -

"Do you want to give me your pussy now?"

Helen's body, under mine, twisted as she moaned her "Yes". I asked: -

"Are you sure? Do you want me to show you what my mouth, my lips, my tongue will do to your pussy? To your just fucked, tender-hot pussy?"

Again, a lust-strangled "Yes". Then I showed her what I had meant by sucking and biting her lips and forcing my demanding tongue into and around her mouth. When I finished, her lips were wet and love-swollen. When I asked - "Do you want your pussy eaten like that?"- her outcry "Yes! Yes, Ben! .... Take my pussy, eat me, just like that!" - was shrill with excitement. When I moved down, her legs jerked unaided high and spread wide to offer up her glistening, quivering sex.

My mouth and tongue had once before, almost briefly, merely in a passing foreplay, tasted her pussy. It was enough for me to discovered that I liked her clean tangy taste and how much Helen's smell and taste aroused me. And she had left me in no doubt about her eagerness to have her cunt, in addition to cock and fingers, pleasured, even ravished by a hungry mouth.

Now the circle was closed: She had been asked, she wanted, she demanded. As I sunk my face into her crotch, her pelvis lifted. With a breathless "Yes!" she pressed her sex against my lips and her fingers began their excited clawing in my hair. This, and the pitches in the music of her moans, whimpers, pleadings and cries told and guided me how to pleasure her, as I explored her luscious cunt with my tongue, suckled and bit her succulent folds, and drew my tongue, time and time again, through the hot-tasty wetness up to her clit.

After minutes of spoiling her such, I lifted my head and looked up. Helen looked down on me, her face beautifully young, flushed with pleasure, eyes shining, lips moist and half open, drunk with pleasure. I took her hands and brought her fingertips close to her bush: -

"Show me your clit. Offer me your sweet clit."

And she cried out a laugh and did, parting the hair of her bush and then the fleshy petal to press its sweet, round cap into view. After my mouth closed over it and my tongue began its tantalising play between her offering fingers, we all too quickly had to stop. Helen's shivering thighs, feverish hands, and her gasping moans warned me how close she was again to the brink of coming. I stopped, to quickly slide up and fold her into my arms.

We needed, it seemed, minutes to catch our breath and to retreat from the threatening surrender of what would have been, in the game that I had promised Helen, a too early ending. When we had calmed, I resumed the missionary position, although the kiss and the words I found as I slid my cock into Helen's hot, kissed-open pussy would not have found missionary approval. As we fucked, slowly, sensually teasing out the first wavelets of pleasure, I asked her how much she liked the changing over from cock to tongue and back again. Did she like to be shown in kissing how I was going to kiss and eat her cunt, and did she want to show me, in the same way, how she wanted her pussy to be eaten.

When I kissed her again, she met my mouth with a deep, throaty groan and showed me how quickly she was learning and how much she loved the lesson. I pulled out of her more than just hungry kiss and told her not to make up her mind too quickly. I told her how much I wanted her, how sexy, beautiful, tasty, and ravishingly fuckable she was and, if it were for me, I'd want to take her through change after change in our game of cock and tongue and fingers. I could not get enough of all of her: Of her face, her sexy tits, her hungry mouth, her enticing ass, her hot words, the excitement in her voice, and the smell and taste of her luscious cunt. But I wanted her to have the ultimate sexual pleasure. She could choose the what and when of changes and, finally, how and when she wanted to come. So, I asked: -

"Tell me how you want to come? You know now what my tongue can do to pussy? It brought you close, so close to coming again. Almost didn't wait for the cocks turn, or the fingers."

I did not expect an answer. While I talked, too much in my excitement and in bursts and with interruptions, I had relieved Helen of my missionary weight and shifted into a side-on position. We never disengaged, and Helen raised her leg holding it against her shoulder. She offered herself, body stretched out, her boobs and button-nipples waiting to be gripped and fondled, her belly heaving, and her sex voluptuously offered to be looked at, fucked and fingered. Head thrown back, she laughed in joy and abandonment as my hands groped her breasts and her pubes and as I fucked her, for long, lust-filled minutes in deep, ever quicker thrusts. Fearing again that I would come too quickly for her, I withdrew.

Moving back from her body I cradled her face and stifled her protests about my sudden withdrawal with a kiss. Reaching down, I started a lengthy, lascivious play with her pussy; penetrating and exploring its tantalising tightness first with one, then with two and, finally, ravishing its wet-hot depth with three frantic, but knowing fingers. Her pelvis heaved and ground against their intrusion and her wild tongue raped mine in my mouth. When Helen finally pulled my hand away, she threw herself back and grabbed her thighs to pull her legs up to her shoulders. In a strangled voice she cried out her demand: -

"Fuck me now! God fuck me, Ben! .... I want to come! Now! On your cock!".

I reached for her legs to place them on my shoulders, then gripped her buttocks and rammed my cock deep into her. It started an almost brutal, unrestrained possession-taking fuck. For its drawn-out minutes I became a stranger, fucking Helen in a way one rarely fucks. As I rammed into her contorting body, bathed in sweat, my roar matched her shrieks and I entered a hitherto avoided realm. It became for me an experience that was out of character, beyond knowing and deliberation, beyond any explanation.

But Helen was in unison with me; she not only followed, she was, I suspect, the one that led. When the climax roared in, we were sucked into a whirlpool of frenzied lust and the terror of being lost to drown. When the shock, the screams and convulsions finally abated, we collapsed into each other totally spent. I think we passed out or even fell asleep.

When Helen eventually disentangled her body from our sweaty embrace, she stroked with a loving gesture over my hair and said: -

"Not that I want to, but we better stop. We need a shower and get dressed."

Her voice was calm and under her tousled hair, there was a shy, almost inward-looking smile on her face. We had a shower, washed our hair. Then Helen just waited to be washed and as we washed each other again, all the urgency of the day was washed away. Helen brought my clothing in from the living-room for us to get dressed together. We had not yet found words that were save enough to say after what we had done.

Helen, however, managed to banish any after-the-fall feeling. Every one of her moves and gestures helped to maintain between us a warm afterglow of intimacy. As she put on her bra and slipped into her panties, jeans and tops, she, at times, glimpsed and smiled at me. I was getting dressed too. She finished first.

Assuming the mannequin posture from her earlier, tantalising strip-tease, she declared: -

"Well, what do you say? Transformation completed. Do I look like your innocent student again, Herr Professor? Should we get something to eat before we go to class?"

Not waiting for an answer, she grinned down on me sitting on the seriously messed-up bed, turned and went to the kitchen.