The Spirit Girl Ch. 02

"You've got new thigh-highs!" I announced excitedly.

"You liked them so much in New York... but wait, there's more..." She kept lifting until her skirt; her crotch came into view. I watched... ah. The more was her panties. They were pink, with a red heart printed on them right over her pussy. There was white lacy stuff on either side; it appeared to be a matching set with the bra. She kept lifting the skirt until it was rolled up around her waist. There were what looked like two little ties on it, and in red lettering the wordsA Special Valentine for You.

"Very nice," I admired.

"Wait..." she said. There was an armchair at a right angle next to the couch in the suite; she sat on the edge of it, spreading her legs wide apart. She touched herself through the panties, which finished the job of raising the barn in my pants. But then... with her other hand, she reached for the tie at her bra, and played with the string a little... and then started to pull. I don't know if there was elastic on the inside or what, but when the bow loosened, and the cup of the bra snapped open halfway, revealing the nipple underneath. "Mmmm," I commented. She continued to play with herself with one hand, while tweaking the exposed nipple to maximum erection. Then she did the same to the other side, leaving both of her breasts poking through what was now a peek-a-boo bra.

But she didn't stop there. She stopped playing with her panties, and now tugged gently at the tie in them. Did they? She untied the other side, which revealed that the red heart was actually a little flap that, now untied, fell out of the way. There was now an opening, framed by the lettering, through which her genital was easily accessible. Wow. "Now... I think I'm supposed to do it like this..." she commented. She threw one leg over the arm of the chair, widening the angle of her open legs. Then she stroked her labia, exciting them, loosening them up. I watched her do that for a few moments... and then she gently felt for her lips, grasping each side with two finger. Then she pulled gently up and out, revealing her sex. I LOVED it when she did that. I was also way to afraid to ask where she'd learned to do that. "There... does that kind of look like a Valentine?" I hadn't thought of it that way, but now she said it, the way she was holding her pussy lips they did take on a heart-like shape.

"The most beautiful Valentine I have ever seen," I growled lustily, "and I know just what to do with it."

"What's that?" she asked coyly.

"I'm going to eat it!" I slid off the couch, knelt on the floor, and lovingly ran my tongue along the pink, delicate folds held open before me. I tasted the flavor of her arousal, savoring the smooth feeling of the insides of her sex. I brought my fingers up and relieved her of the work of parting her lips. I tugged on the lips, parting them further so that my tongue could burrow further into her depths. "Ohhhhh..." she sighed as my tongue teased her sensitive folds. I had just started licking, and she was already sopping wet. Guys, if you want your girl to be really, really wet for you, buy her diamonds. I'm just sayin'.

The little nubbin jumped out of its hood as my tongue touched her slit. I now paid it a visit, drilling it with my tongue. It responded by pushing back even more firmly, and Sam's hips started to grind like they did when she was feeling real good. I felt her grab me by the hair, firmly but not rough, and then push her pubic bone against my tongue. It was like a tug-of-war, only in reverse; it was a contest of who could push harder, her clit or my tongue. Her hips were bucking like a mechanical bull now, and the juices of her arousal dribbled down my chin. She was racing towards climax at record-setting speed. Next thing I knew, her hand in my hair wasn't enough--she locked her legs around my head, too. I suppose I was almost like a prisoner, but I didn't care--where else would I rather be than licking the bucking slit of my lovely Sam?

Sensing she was close, I concentrated and rubbed her clit with my tongue as hard and fast as I could manage. I didn't even stop to breathe, I just pressed my tongue against her tender pinkness and wiggled it. Her moans of pleasure gave me all the feedback I needed: "ahhh.... ahhHH... AAAHHH..." And then she came. She was kind of in a awkward position, but both her hands grabbed my head and her legs locked around my body, almost crushing me as they held me tight. I couldn't hear because her thighs tightly covered my ears. But I did feel the rumbles, starting in her hands and then working their way down to her toes in the fraction of a second, one wave after another.

When the earthquakes finally stopped, she seemed to slump off of me. Her arms and legs stopped pressing against me, but she seemed to more collapse in exhaustion than anything. I wiggled free, trying to fine the lips of her mouth to kiss them. She seemed to be just laying there, but then out of nowhere her hand shot like lightning, grabbing me by the bow tie and dragging me down onto her to kiss her. She was raw with emotion as our mouths met. Our tongues hungrily stroked one another.

Then like a flip of a switch, Sam's energy returned. She pushed me onto my feet, and like a cat pounced upon her heels herself. "I never told you how handsome you look in your tuxedo," she said sweetly, pausing to throw her skirt to the ground. We stood toe to toe, and while she kissed my soggy face she ran her fingers along my shoulders, along my lapels... and just like that, they were at my crotch. I have no idea how she whipped my pants open so fast, but in a second her warm hand was lovingly stroking my erection through their open zipper. She kissed me one last time, then slid to her knees incredibly sensually. In a flash her lips were wrapped around my cock, sucking, teasing me with her lovely tongue--eyes locked on mine the whole time. She kept sucking me deeper, deeper, deeper... I don't know how much of me she forced into her throat, but by the time she was done her nose was disappearing in my cummerbund. All I seemed able to do in response was make contorted, probably goofy-looking faces, scarcely able to comprehend just how good it felt. Rather than turning her off, she seemed to recognize them as success, and strove to suck me deeper, harder, faster. Kingdoms have been won and lost for blowjobs such as this.

I started taking off my tux--tie, jacket, shirt. She kept sucking like a woman possessed. When I was down to my pants, I bent over and pried her off my erection in order to kiss her. "Let's finish this in bed," I suggested. She stood, and we hugged, then hand in hand we went to the bedroom. I kicked off my shoes, ripped off my socks, and when I undid the hook my pants fell to the floor. Sam threw the top cover off the king-sized bed, then for good measure tossed aside the Valentine lingerie. We were done at the same time, and crawled towards each other in the middle of the bed, naked. We kissed when we met; she rolled onto her back and spread her legs wide at the same time. I took up my favored position between her thighs. My penis naturally dove toward her opening; a quick alignment with her steady hand was all it took for me to penetrate deep into her dripping pussy. I probed the wonderful opening while she threw her arms around me, kissing me, but keeping her legs wide. A few more exploratory strokes, and I whispered "I love you, Samantha. And I'm going to love for the rest of my life."

Sam's eyes looked into mine, soft and loving. "I love you too, Dave," she said softly. There was a hint of a tear, but she managed to blink it away. I steadily plumbed the depths of her vagina while our eyes remained locked on each other, heavy with emotion. Can there be a more vulnerable position than to have your legs wide open and man's penis inside you? But rather than scared, her eyes spoke of love, comfort, and trust. With our promise tonight, we had said that we would always be there for each other, together, and no one else. The vulnerability comes from opening up yourself so completely and risking the hurt of being rejected. Such risk was now all but eliminated. We kissed again as my pace and energy slowly increased.

I adjusted my position to give me better leverage for hip action. I wasn't sprinting yet, but I was now

purposefully driving me up the side of the mountain towards climax. For a fleeting moment, I had a Ricky thought.I'm never going to fuck another girl ever again. Then my eyes reminded me of the wonderful loveliness of the delicate creature that lay before me, and my penis reminded me of the otherworldly pleasures her body provided. I realized that my first thought was totally backwards.It's not that I can't fuck anyone else again, because, why would I want to? It's that I don't have to worry about HER fucking another DUDE ever again. The most wonderful woman in the world was ALL MINE. I felt as lucky as the day it first sunk in that someday I would own the Jammers. Marshall Jacobs, you may be a fine point guard, but you are a friggin' IDIOT for lettin' this one get away. And boy, and I ever grateful!

I felt Sam stirring, which brought me back to the moment. It took just a second to realize she was trying to life her legs up high so that they rested on my shoulders. A slight move of my shoulders, then moving a little forward and over to adjust the angle of penetration, and we were back in business. Our bodies just seemed to fit together like a hand in a glove. She closed her eyes now and her breathing grew shallow. We didn't do the anvil position like this very often, because it maximized the penetration of the penis and, consequently, elicited very strong emotional reactions if orgasm was achieved. But somehow a strong emotional reaction seemed appropriate for the night we got engaged. I drilled with renewed intensity--I liked it this way. On top of everything else, I could just barely feel the tip of my wanker brushing the top of her vagina at the deepest point of the stroke. This was not only erotic, but confidence-building; she had told me once that I filled her up and was all the man I could handle, implying that a better-endowed man could not have produced any better effects. But in this position, I could FEEL that I filled her to the brim.

I was reaching, drilling, not stopping until I struck a gusher of white "oil." It was just beyond my grasp; I generally didn't last very long in this position before popping off. I could have hunkered down, and in thirty seconds of intense fornicating achieved my climax, but I sensed that Sam wasn't far from another as well. Her head rolled and her shoulders wiggled with the nervous energy she needed to burn when intensely aroused; her squeals of delight were natural and affected. So I held back just a fraction; I would push hard and deep, but then hold for a split second before retreating and diving in again. Take that little hold out and I'm cumming; with it, I was able to keep stimulating her hard and deep. I was watching her, absorbed in the show although she didn't know it. Before Sam, when I was fucking girls I didn't love, I liked to get girls off because it made me feel studly, plus it helped my chances of getting in their pants again. But now, I loved to get Sam off because I loved her, and I wanted to do everything in my power to make her happy as many ways as possible. Yeah, satisfying her in bed made me feel a little proud, but mostly it made me feel like I was reinforcing the fact that she had made a good choice by choosing me.

Sam tilted her head back slightly and her mouth opened. That was the sign I was waiting for. I'd made Sam cum enough to know her pattern; she did that because she felt a pleasure that was so intense it was surprising in a didn't-know-that-was-possible kind of way. That was the last step before the top one on her ladder, so when I saw it I kicked into sprint. No more pause at the top of the stroke; it was now in and out, fast and hard as possible, one after another, relentless. Sam's hands suddenly appeared, clutching my neck desperately, anchoring for the imminent earthquake. At the same time, my strokes suddenly grew short as the mechanics of orgasm were being set in motion. Stroke-stroke-stroke-stroke-s-t-r-e-t-c-h. Climax achieved; I pushed myself deep into her pussy to discharge my spunk. The first explosion came; lightning-fast I pulled back slightly and thrust in again as if resetting the target for the second salvo. At the same time, the back of my brain registered that Sam was tugging hard on my neck, and realized that she was curling her spine, pushing her vagina up and forcing me deeper just as I was stretching down. The second shot discharged, and I quickly reset again, but now my shoulders registered the feeling of twitching in her legs, and my thighs registered her buttocks trembling as well. The kind of funny thing is that my penis, which was thrust into the epicenter of her orgasm, did not feel it until after I was done cumming. I think I was just so iron-hard, the rumbling tremors were not enough to move me! Two more lesser discharges and my climax was complete. Her orgasm, having started a second or two after mine, likewise continued slightly longer. It was amazing; as many times as we have had sex, that was one of a handful of times I can remember specifically in great detail.

I wiggled between Sam's raised legs, trying to reach forward to kiss her. She dropped them off to the sides, longing for my kiss as much as I longed to share it. Our kiss was raw with emotion, as it always was after Sam had what she called an "emotional orgasm." Those are always the BEST kisses of all.

Sam broke off the kiss and grabbed me tight, balling herself up into me, hiding her face in my shoulder. My penis remained safely housed in her belly, and we both wanted it that way. I felt her sob gently. I don't really understand the whole tears of joy concept, but I understand that when Sam was overwhelmed by emotion, even positive ones, her response was to cry. Just as she had shed tears when presented with the ring, now too she shed tears of happiness and joy. I let her clutch me as was her wont in such situations, treasuring the moment. It took only a minute or two for her to get the sobbing under control, then she laid back on the pillow again. Her eyes were wet with tears, but her mouth was smiling broadly and her eyes indicated satisfaction at the very deepest level. "I love you Sam," I whispered. She didn't speak, but blinked her agreement, then pulled me down onto her, telling me she loved me in the way she kissed my lips.

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When she did her radio show gig that week, the two DJ guys were all over Sam for her spectacular engagement. The traffic girl, though, took issue with them, saying it was the most romantic thing she'd ever seen. They asked her if she was really surprised, and she assured them she had no idea it was coming. Then they started kidding her about who she was engaged to: "so if you're engaged to Davis Rutherford III... that pretty much means you're sleeping with your boss, right? I thought that was a no-no."

"I prefer to think of it like I'm helping out with the family business," she retorted. Then they laid into her about her ring, telling her she had better get it checked out to make sure it was real, it had to be glass because diamonds didn't come that big, but that didn't get a rise out of her either. So finally they asked how she was going to top her Valentine's Day promotion.

"We have lots of great promotions left--for the fans, and lots of great basketball left in the season. But for me personally, no promotion will ever top that one."

The Jammers ended the year at .500, two games out of the playoffs, their late-season charge unable to dig themselves out of the hole they had dug for themselves early on. But that season will always be one of my favorites. Although the team might not have done so well, that was the year that I brought home the biggest prize of all.