Them

"Make it cum," I said.

"Yeah," she agreed languidly, "I want to taste that cum again."

She went down, and I groaned, caressing her head. The next time she pulled off, she told me how wet her pussy was from sucking my cock.

"Show me," I said.

With a grin, she spun and straddled my chest. Though I was far too much taller than her to sixty-nine, I could explore her with my fingers. She was not joking about being wet. Fingers on her ass, I sank my thumb inside her and casually fucked her with it.

Down below, Harper moaned. I watched the back of her head rise and fall. I felt her mouth souse the shaft in glutinous saliva.

Her phone chimed--some kind of special ring. She pulled off and told me it was Darin, and that she probably should answer.

"Fuck. Okay," I huffed, slipping out from under her while she reached for the device on her nightstand.

Sighing, I got comfortable and listened. It was Maria, and she had heard about the storm that had rolled through Lawton. Harper assured her that she, I, and the house were all okay.

Then, after a pause, Harper said, "No, he's working out right now." She winked at me.

"Yeah, we're great. He's been great."

"Oh, eating meals together, watching movies, other stuff." She winked at me again before telling Maria not to tell Darin, but that we'd gone jet-skiing together.

Maria must have responded and asked another question. Harper said, "No, I'm glad I'm here, and I'm glad he's here, too. I miss you guys and the family and the lake, but this was right. This was for the best."

She hung up not long after, and we snuggled together under her covers. "Do you like Maria?" she asked.

"I do. She's perfect for your dad."

"She is, isn't she?"

"And I know she loves you."

"Maybe she does," Harper acknowledged with a hint of surprise. "Sorry about the interruption," she offered.

"No big deal." I was no longer hard. My cock was sticky and soft, almost as if I'd had a wet dream.

I held her and we both dozed.

She caressed my face to wake me. It was evening, and the room was bathed in moonlight. Cradling my jaw, Harper kissed me on the lips and thanked me.

"For what?"

"Being here. Being you."

"My pleasure. And you're welcome."

She smiled, and her eyes looked past me. She asked, "What should I do?"

I knew what she meant. This was the question--the huge and only question. "Harper," I began, "can I offer you an observation?"

She nodded.

"So, you talk about having a cock of your own, having your own balls, and so on. You told me the first thing you were going to do with one is to jerk off and cum in your mouth. And you wanted to suck my dick that way to see what it might be like to suck your own dick."

"Yeah?"

"'Your own' you say. Having one 'for yourself.'"

"Yes. I want one."

"Is it possible you can satisfy these urges without changing your own body? Is it maybe that you just want a male partner? His cock--mine, for example--can be yours to have, whenever you want it."

She stared at me without speaking.

I said, "Imagine it. Imagine a guy who cares about you and desires you--just as you are--and he can't wait for you to do all the things you want to his cock. His cock, he tells you, is yours. It's your own. It's having one for yourself."

Harper turned from me and looked out the window with those big, intelligent eyes. She was imagining it.

"You like sucking cock," I went on. "You obviously love cum. You get visibly aroused by my cock. Doing things to it make you want to cum. So, aren't you perfectly built, then--right now--to get the things you want? Beautiful, smart, sexy, and female," I said.

She waited for more, unwilling, it seemed, to give any reply yet.

"I'm a guy, right? Before, my relationship with your dad and step-mom always prevented me from seeing you as anything more than a person I cared about as a friend. But, somehow, you--just you, Harper--overcame those self-imposed boundaries in me and made me incredibly attracted to you. You're exactly how you're supposed to be."

She rolled over. Her fingers grasped the bedding and tossed it down to the foot. Straddling my thighs, she stared down at my cock. Her hefty little tits seemed to spring at me and remain stationary at the same time.

"This," she muttered, "is mine." Her fingers curled under my balls and lifted them. She rolled one testicle in her thumb. "My balls," she said. Then, she took my cock in her fingers and rubbed it. "My cock."

Her eyes bent toward mine. Then, she surveyed my body. Her hands followed, rubbing and squeezing where she looked. "My body," she said, fondling my chest and stomach, grasping my arms, reaching back and stroking my thighs. Sitting upright, she turned to me. "You would let me have it?"

I nodded. "I think 'mine is yours and yours is mine' is kind of the definition of love in relationships."

"Love," she murmured, and when she looked at me after she said it, her lips came together, giving the faintest hint of a grin. "What about my body? What if my body was yours?"

"To have whenever I needed it?"

She nodded.

"Then I would be one lucky son of a bitch."

She smiled. My new erection caught her attention. Scooting down to my knees, she bent down and examined it closely. "Mine," she whispered. "Not because I want one to be part of my body, but--," she stopped, glancing at me for help.

"--But because you want to enjoy the one that belongs to you."

Stroking me with her eyes riveted to the tip, she whispered, "'Enjoy' isn't enough. 'Worship.'"

Those words were like ten minutes of foreplay. My cock throbbed in her hand. "Holy shit, suck it right now, Harper."

"Yes," she murmured. "Suck it until it cums." She stretched open her mouth, and when her thick lips covered the fat knob, her eyes locked onto mine. She hummed rapturously. Then, her head began bobbing. Her lips slid up and down. Harper drew off, swallowed, closed her eyes, and muttered, "I fucking love this. I love sucking on your cock."

"Every day," I told her.

She huffed, "Yes," and dove back on it.

"Fuck," I groaned, feeling the sultry, smooth texture of Harper's mouth glide up and down. I told her how good she made me feel, and I called her by her name. She hummed, stretching down the shaft with those fat lips for more. "How much cock do you want?" I asked.

She drew off with a gasp. Ropes of saliva hung between her mouth and my cock. She swallowed. "Ng!--all of it," she replied plaintively. Then she wiped her mouth.

I slid my fingers into her long hair. She gasped and nodded. Then, I helped her down. Down. She struggled, and I let go.

Catching her breath, she nodded, and we tried again. Her throat fought her momentarily. Her face blushed. Harper fought for her breath; air chuffed back and forth from her nose.

Slowly, she asserted her will and took more. Her color returned. Her breathing relaxed.

"Holy shit," I whispered. For her diminutive build, this was a sexual feat. It was almost alarming to see her jaw so distended, to consider how the fat, plum-like head of my cock must be lodged in her neck, and that there remained inches for her to take.

I took her by the back of the head. She hummed greedily and very slowly gorged the rest. With her lips on my pubic hairs, she held in place.

I grunted, adding, "Fuck, yes, Harper."

She hummed as my cock throbbed, but she didn't pull back. She didn't move. It was as if she was exactly where she wanted to be.

I told her my cock was hers, and then I came. When my erection began to pulse, Harper slid back to the end, and there, she clutched the knob with her lips. I listened to the quick, throaty gulps as she covetously gorged my semen.

The contractions of my cock gradually abated. Harper kissed the tip, gasped, and grinned victoriously. Then, her body wilted onto mine. I listened to her wheeze.

"Wow," I muttered.

"All mine," she huffed.

***

That night and the next day and a half were spent mostly in bed--usually hers. Harper drained the semen out of me repeatedly. I always finished in her mouth, but it didn't always start that way; she was coming to enjoy it when I fucked her tits and told me she liked seeing it slide through, pointed at her mouth.

She gave me free, unfettered access to her pussy, so between those times when she nursed on cum, I got to play all I wanted with that hot, wet slit until her cries of rapture filled the basement.

But, I never got to fuck her, and I didn't ask to. I figured she would know when she was ready, if ever. My body began to crave it--fucking her. I wondered if there was something I could do to encourage progress on that front.

On the afternoon of my tenth day in Lawton, still in bed together I had an idea. "Let's get out of here," I suggested, "out of this house."

"And go where?"

I rolled toward her. "I'll take you up to OKC. We'll stay in a nice hotel. We'll go out together."

"Like a date?"

Her question prompted another idea. "Yes, and can I ask you to do something?"

"What?"

"It would be an experiment, kind of."

"What?"

"Only if you want to," I added. "Only if you're still you."

A touch annoyed, she said, "Will you tell me what the hell you're talking about?"

"Can we dress up--make it like a real date?"

She hesitated.

I quickly tried to reassure her. "Only in clothes where you're comfortable, right? You've got to still be you, but we'll look really nice and we'll go to an awesome restaurant--appetizers, amazing dinner, and dessert. Some wine."

"Oh, my gosh, you're making me hungry," she complained, but a moment later, she said, "Yes. I'll dress up, and yes, I'll go to Oklahoma City with you on a date."

***

Separately, we packed day bags. I brought a suit and tie on the trip to Lawton because I always bring one when I travel, just in case. We wore comfortable clothes on the hour and a half drive up there. I checked us in at the Concord. We already had reservations at 8:15pm, a place called Incandescenza, just a short walk from the hotel.

Harper went into the bathroom at 6:45pm with her bag. I waited on the bed for her to emerge. When she didn't right away, or even after fifteen minutes, I turned on the television. Then I took off my shoes and stretched out. At 7:30, I changed over. Still no Harper.

She came out just before 8:00.

I had no idea what to expect. This was a person I hadn't seen dressed nicely since Darin and Maria were married. Would she wear a dress? Did she own a dress? She'd never worn make-up in her life as far as I knew. Did she even know how to put it on? Would she do something with her hair?

What, I wondered, would constitute "dressing up" to a person like Harper. I had no earthly idea.

Then I heard the bathroom door open, and she stepped out.

She was totally nervous. Before I could react, she said, "I know you said I needed to be comfortable, but I wanted this to be a real experiment."

I smiled. "Wow, Harper. You're--I can't take my eyes off you." Rising, I went to her.

She spun around, smiling.

"Beyond beautiful. Way past it," I said. "How about heart-stoppingly gorgeous? Can I say that?"

"Yes," she said, blushing.

"Can I please take the most heart-stoppingly gorgeous female in town to dinner tonight?"

She nodded, and then she fixed my tie. "You look pretty sexy yourself," she offered.

"Thanks, Harper."

Finishing, she ran her little hands down my suit jacket, slid them inside it, and held my waist, looking up at me with those big eyes.

"Okay, we either go right now," I said, "or I'm going to do things to you."

We went.

Harper wore a very tight, form-fitting blue-gray mini-dress with spaghetti straps. It wrapped criss-cross-style around her breasts, cupping them to reveal a lovely line of cleavage. Grey-blue heels added length to her sleek, fit legs.

Her hair was parted in the middle, and it fell around her face smoothly, framing it and ending in big, sweeping curls. She had brushed it to a high gloss, and it looked silky and elegant. There was a hint of shadow on her eyes and some liner there, making those brown beauties even brighter. Beneath them she had adorned her pouty lips with lipstick and gloss. This was the face and these were the lips men dreamed about.

Despite the hair, the dress, the make-up, and her misgivings, she got comfortable. We drank white wine at the restaurant and ate Italian seafood for dinner. Tiramisu and gelato made up our dessert.

Men looked at her and then looked at her again. She knew it, and the smile on her face could not have been more joyful--or alluring. The wine brought a luster to her skin that no make-up could have achieved.

I had no distinct plans after dinner. I figured we could walk through the downtown and chat--or go back to the hotel room, which I desperately wanted to do. What actually happened was, not two blocks from the restaurant, we passed a jazz club with a live band.

Neither of us, I think, are jazz people, but we saw people dancing, and the music seemed lively, begging for a little movement. I paid the cover, and we went in.

And we danced.

Some of the music was fast; some slow. We must have arrived at the start of the set because this troupe went for a good forty-five minutes straight before taking five and not once did Harper and I leave the dance floor.

She moved well. A sheen of perspiration--incredibly--added to the already captivating beauty of her face, but it also made the exposed flesh of her breasts in that dress catch the light.

She was a dancing nymph-enchantress; my body ached for her.

When the band announced the break, I took her hand, and we left for the hotel. Neither of us said a word for ten minutes. The first utterance made was a gasp--by her. It happened in the hotel elevator when, finding ourselves alone, we instantly smashed together in an ass-groping, crotch-grabbing kiss.

"I have to--," I muttered between tongue-mingling kisses.

"I want you to--," she replied breathlessly.

I'm not sure how we made it back into our hotel room. There was no foreplay--unless you count a magnificent dinner, achingly good dessert, wine, and forty-five minutes of dancing. She pulled me by the tie, backing up to the bed. She slid off her panties--scant things, practically nothing. I ripped off the shirt and tie. She unbuckled my belt and unzipped my trousers.

Then she spun around, leaned over onto the bed, and hiked up her mini-dress. There was a hasty exchange between us when I brought the tip of my cock against her. Something like "Sure?"--"Yeah," and that was it.

Her pussy was wet, but it resisted the knob. Harper gasped. I reloaded my hips and tried again, applying firm, unwavering force. She cried out when the tip overcame the taut entry. Her fingers stretched out on my thigh, urging me to wait.

I waited.

Her face turned to the side, and I could see on it a mixture of pain and wonder. She panted for some time, holding me steady. Not ready for more.

"Stop?" I asked.

She shook her head, swallowed, and an airy grunt escaped her lips. "It's a lot," she finally huffed.

I scooped a tit into one hand. I groped her ass with the other, staring down at it and seeing my cock underneath. "Fuck me, your body," I muttered.

"Okay," she said. "Okay, more."

I fed my cock inside of her, and I had to thrust stoutly to make progress. She was tighter than any woman I had previously experienced--by far. Her hot pussy clutched my erection like an angry handshake.

Harper's hand gripped my thigh--a caution. I was so close, though. Just one more push and I was home.

"Let me," I said.

She nodded.

Taking her waist, I drove the rest of my cock inside.

Harper sucked in a breath and then swore. My cock throbbed, and she cried out.

I could not stop myself. I uttered, "Your pussy is tight as fuck."

Gasping, Harper apologized--twice--before I could assure her that it was okay, that I really liked it. I asked her if she did, too.

"Fuck me," she murmured, nodding.

Yes.

It was beyond what my body needed. It was exactly what I knew it would feel like and far better at the same time. When a rhythm was established, Harper haltingly, breathlessly asked me why we hadn't done this sooner.

I didn't respond; I fucked her.

"I was made for this," she moaned.

I couldn't speak--too astonished at what her body was doing to mine.

She tried to tell me how good her pussy felt with a cock in it, but she never completed the thought. She hit a peak and began hollering.

I wasn't there, yet. I fucked her right through it until her hand signaled for me to ease back and slow down.

I did.

"Kiss me," she said.

I did, and I pulled out. Lips still locked, I carried her onto the bed, laid her on her back, and slid between her thighs. She spread them wide for me, breaking the kiss to say, "Back in. Back inside me. Please--but gently."

I stabled my cock in her and grabbed a breast. Harper quickly slipped the spaghetti straps down and gave me full access. "Fuck it feels big inside of me," she gasped.

The slow fuck continued, and I liked pouring all of my concentration into her body's tight, wet, texture. Fucking her was like feasting on some perfectly ripe fruit, packed with so many juices and vitamins that I could feel the energy hit my bloodstream after each bite. More and more, she charged me with vitality and strength.

I grunted her name at the perfection of it, and hearing me say "Harper" with such exquisite pleasure awakened her body.

"Yes," she urged. "Yes, fuck me."

I swore.

She grabbed her ankles and hauled them back. I thrust deep and hard into her.

She cried out half in pleasure, half in pain.

She read the struggle on my face. "Oh, yes, cum," she huffed. "Cum in me."

I drove my hips into her, and she hollered.

"Harper," I groaned.

"Yes!" A second orgasm began for her. I was right on the edge, battling the urge to just let go and the fierce need to see her completely through her pleasure.

Suddenly her eyes went wide, and she clutched my waist firmly. It was a signal to quit moving.

I did, and I let go.

Both of us froze. She twitched and convulsed, hollering. I remained firmly roosted in her, feeling my cock pulse and release, pulse and release. It felt so right that even when it ended for both of us, I didn't move, and she held me tight. For several seconds we were a statue of a man and a woman together at the moment of sexual climax.

Ultimately, our bodies unfettered us from that perfect ecstasy. She moaned. I gasped. She held out her arms, and I sank into her embrace.

Chuffing air, she whispered into my ear and kissed me.

I drew back and looked at her. Really? my expression asked. You mean it?

She nodded, and we kissed and laughed and kissed.

And slept.

***

In the morning, Harper climbed on top of me. Her hair was a beautiful mess, and her sleepy eyes were gorgeous. She struggled to fit me inside, but when I was in, she sighed with such exquisite satisfaction that I fought back the sudden urge to get on top of her and jackhammer that tight pussy.

Amazing. Her body was so compact, yet womanly. Alternately watching the pleasure on her face and the gyrations of her tits, I was in awe.

I had slept with a lot of women. Never once had I lost control of my feelings. But when Harper climaxed on me--and I inside her--I pulled her to me, kissing her lips and cheek. I put my lips to her ear, and I opened my mouth to tell Harper how I felt about her.

I didn't. I stopped myself. I kissed her instead, and we held one another until she sloughed to the bed and dozed.

I couldn't sleep; I was too astonished at myself. Sighing in relief, I shook my head at what I almost said to her.

"Fuck," I whispered, filled with gladness that at the last second, my presence of mind had returned.

On the drive home, Harper leaned across the seat, unzipped my pants, and sucked my cock. I eventually pulled over. Back at Darin's, I fucked her in the shower, standing and carrying her weight as I kept us both warm under the stream of hot water. Turning for her, and then me. Her, and then me.