Twice Smitten - A Love Story Ch. 01

'She said, "Get ready. It'll have to be quick," and turned round, flipped up her skirt and spread herself face down on the bed, bottom towards me. It was a nice one, not as big as the one in the car-park, but quite inviting, shining in the semi-dark, and I dropped my pants. She said, 'Bring him to me." So I positioned myself, she grabbed my cock and pulled it towards her, and said, "Good long one. She wants him. Oh, yes, he's going in." Actually, "he" wasn't readily going in, because "she" wasn't warm and wet. She was cool and a little greasy with whatever she'd anointed herself with, which enabled me to get in the first inch or so. But this was not the vagina of a randy mature woman who'd had several children. It was the vagina of an unaroused girl who was play-acting. She said, "Push hard. She likes it hard, right in deep." I didn't want to hurt her but she was determined, so I forced my way in, though she couldn't accommodate more than about six inches. Bravely she said, "Back out a bit. That's right. Now hard in again." She loosened up a bit, starting to lubricate so I was able to obey.

'She said, "She's starting! Do it again. Oh, yes, she's going. Again." I tried to cram in a few millimetres more, and she said, "Oooohh! here she goes." But she was not "going," though she was clenching and wriggling her bottom. What to do now? This was the point that I was supposed to come, reaching the outcome not achieved the previous time.

'The point was that on that occasion it was the woman's orgasm which would have triggered mine, and had this kind girl come I would probably have come, too. As it was she improvised. "Don't stop," she commanded. "She likes it. Give her your stuff. She wants to feel you filling her." I kept pumping away, therefore, for a minute or two, wondering whether to fake it or just pull out. But the penis decided for me. It shrank and slipped out.

'She stood up, turned round, felt underneath her, and said, 'You didn't do much, did you?' Then she got the leg back into the knickers, gave me a peck on the cheek, and said, "You can walk from here, can't you?" She sat down again on the chair and that was that. I wasn't sure what she thought had happened, until I understood that she believed I really had ejaculated. Her experience was, then, so limited that the lack of sperm leakage afterwards didn't confirm that none had been expressed. She was, indeed, quietly triumphant and I didn't like to correct her. I thanked her, kissed her and left. Of course, when later Sally had the idea the experiment had been a success and I was now set up for successful intercourse, I had to tell her the dear girl had misled herself.' He stopped and waited for a comment.

'That finished the relationship with Sally.'

'Yes. It drifted on for a while, me making her come, but there was no future in it.'

'You told your mother all about it? She must be a very understanding mum.'

'She is. I can tell her anything. I went home and gave her the whole history, every last detail, though I concealed the identity of the older women, of course, though I think she guessed, being no fool.'

'What was her reaction? She wasn't shocked, but was sympathetic.'

'She was wonderful. She even cried a bit. "My poor Leslie. I'm so sorry." She put her arms round me and I put my head on her breasts. She said, "That's what mother's can do. I know you were looking at my breasts recently. I was actually letting you see them, though you didn't realise that, did you? That's another thing mothers can do, give their children a little sex-education. I would have shown you anything and everything if you'd asked, though you did see me in the bath sometimes. Did that help?" I told her it did, when those older women were wanting me. She said, "You know I'd help you all the way, take you into me, but I can't, for the reason you yourself felt badly about those older ladies, I'm a married woman." Amazing.'

'Were you surprised or shocked by her saying that?'

'No. It somehow made me feel more grown-up, closer to her.'

'Leslie,' I said, 'That's enough for tonight. Thank you. You will tell me more, but now we need to sleep. Tomorrow is another day.'

'True, Scarlett, true,' he said, 'And we fell asleep in each other's arms.'

5

Next day I started a period, so that night as we lay in bed I said, 'If you want to see some nipple and nork expansion you could slip your little finger up my bum and thumb my button. Just don't pull the string in between.'

'Sounds good,' he said. 'Would you mind if I splash down on those round mounds?'

'I'd like to see that,' I assured him. 'No trouble spouting outside?'

He didn't answer, but began to nibble my nipples and stroke my fuzz. Some women are especially arousable when bleeding and I was one of them, so I responded easily and gripped the finger hard. He was skilful in the tit department and I soon suggested that if he put his face between my breasts and held them against his cheeks he would probably be able to feel them swelling. And this was evidently what followed, for as I came he had no time to move before I felt that impressive penis, now fully erect, dollop thick cum onto my stomach.

When we'd rested a little I asked him why we'd had to wait so long to bed down together and enjoy each other in whatever ways were possible, and he said that, having confirmed that my interest in making love with him was not derived from knowledge of his cock size, he'd wondered whether I might not be like Sally, who'd been disappointed that he could not enter her. This seemed to imply that such a response would mean the end of our relationship, of whatever variety it might be, and he would not wish us to part.

'Leslie,' I said, 'The last thing I want is for us to part.' Tantamount to a declaration?

'You mean you don't mind if I can't come into you?'

'Whatever you can and want to do is perfect for me,' I said. What more did he want?

'Are you saying you have special feelings about me, Norma?'

'Yes, Leslie, I have special feelings about you. Do you have any special feelings?'

'Yes, I do. I want to be with you and make love with you.'

Should I press for a more explicit confession? No, I wasn't a young girl anymore. I was forty and knew to proceed patiently, to encourage rather than expect. I said, 'In case you haven't got it yet, Leslie mon Vieux, I want to be with and make love with you, too...and I want to hear more of your story, post Sally.'

6

'My psychological friend, obviously wanting to account for why her procedure hadn't worked, because she was bound to learn that it hadn't, came up with another theory.'

'Let me guess. You must be gay.'

'Correct. And I wondered myself. Maybe my idea of being female was a disguised hint that I wanted to be made love to by a man. Being a dedicated researcher I determinedly started going out and to be bed with gay men. They loved my cock and bottom and wanted to get the one into them and their own into me.'

'How did you like that?'

'It was quite exciting, making another man come, and I quite liked being inside them, though I knew I really wanted cunt instead. And when they were inside me I wanted them to be in my cunt, not my bum. So, quite soon I realised my heart wasn't in it, in any sense.'

'You must have finished the degree by then? What could you do next?'

'I decided to stop trying and devote myself to my career, and I worked hard and stayed celibate, even though the odd female colleague hinted she was available. So, some years passed, and I met a woman who showed interest but acted rather mysteriously about what she might want. She was attractive in a cool sort of way, shapely and always beautifully dressed, coiffed and made up, precise and controlled at all times. We began to go out together, for meals, concerts, plays. She cultured, interesting.'

'Go on to the "but," then,' I said.

'She was not to be touched. No hand-holding or kissing, not even a peck on the cheek. But that was all right. No sex, then. Still, we were content. So I thought. Until the night she revealed the mystery. She invited me back to her flat for the first time, gave me a drink in her beautifully decorated sitting-room, with everything in exquisite taste, then said, "Leslie, I like you and I want to tell you about myself. I'm a woman who wants to be watched, and to watch as well. Do you understand? I want you to watch me. Will you? If not, that's fine, we'll just go on as before. But if you will, come into the bedroom." Do you know what she wanted?'

'I think so. She wanted you to watch her masturbate.'

'Yes, but I wasn't sure what she wanted when I followed her into the bedroom, which was as neat and orderly and beautifully decorated as she was. She told me to sit on the chair at her dressing-table, and then began to undress. There was nothing coquettish or strip-teasy about it. She just removed one garment at a time, watched my reactions and asked me questions as she went. Off came the dress and she said, "Do you like my silk slip. Can you see my bra and pants through it?" I said the slip was elegant and the underwear was lovely. She said, "Am I exciting like this?" I said she was, and it was true. She said, "Do you want me to go on?" I assured I did. She said, "If I do, you mustn't think I want you to touch me. No-one can touch me. I will touch me. Do you understand?" I said I did.'

'By then she had a good idea what was going on?'

'Yes. She took off the slip and let me look at her for a minute. She said, "Are you wondering what my breasts look like? What I have in my panties?" Of course, I was. "Let's see if they are as you hope," she said, turning round and unlatching the bra. " Here we go," she said, turning round again, "What do you think?" I told her they were lovely, and they were, but I had to tell her why. I praised their roundness, their firmness, the way they touched against each other, creating a charming cleavage. She said, "What of the nipples? Do you like them?" I told her that they were delightful, erecting as I watched. "You like them doing that?" she said. "I love them doing that, and I'm going to help them. Watch me caress them. See how they grow. I love how they feel, how they make me feel. They're getting me ready. Can you see?" I said I could, and she went on, "Do you think it's time to take off my panties?" Of course, I did. They fitted perfectly, probably made to fit. She turned round, saying, "I'm going to show you my derriere now. I hope you'll like it. I do, because it's not to big but curved." She pushed down the knickers and it was lovely, as I assured her.'

'Every exhibitionist needs and voyeur,' I remarked. 'Did you feel all right about it?'

'Yes, because the whole point was having me watch, so it wasn't voyeuring at all, because that implies the one being watched doesn't know.'

'Did you wonder how far this was going to go?'

'I thought probably now she was naked the show might be over. But far from it. She took off the knickers, turned back, ruffled her pubic hair with her fingers and said, "Do you like my pussy? Is it nice and tidy and hiding my lips?" I said it was. She said, "Do you think my lips will open if I touch them?" Naturally, I said they would.'

'She was more and more aroused, I assume.'

'Was she! Panting. Chest and upper breasts pink with rash. In fact, I think she was coming all the time, in waves. The tide was coming in. She lay on the bed, propped on pillows, so she could watch herself, and me watching her, which was the idea. She said, "Can you see my little button? I'm pushing it, d'you see? Oh, it's ringing all my bells. And how many fingers can I get in my cun? Two, easily. Three now! Do you like my cun-lips?" I certainly did. The inner labia were very tidy, like everything else about her, just little fringes round her entry, so the fingers looked as if they were straight in through the outer lips, and they were quite bare of her fluff. By now the orgasms were reaching a crescendo and she was gasping out her orders. "Tell me what you'd like to do. You like to fuff me, burst inside, buff my BTM!" I was puzzled for a moment.'

'She wanted it rude and crude to get her all the way.'

'Yes. I said, "I want to drive into your cunt with my cock and shoot my wad deep inside. I want to bugger your arse and squirt in your rectum." And she said, "You're disgusting, filthy. Get your clothes off!" Which wasn't a sign I was going to get into her, I knew. But I stripped, anyway, and, of course, after some years without any sex and watching this display I was as hard as possible. She said, "Are you ready to do it? Do it on my slip. Do it on my slip. Now!" I picked up the petticoat and laid it on the bed by her feet and took hold of my cock, which was so sensitive it would need only a touch. She said, "Let me see. I want to see it happen. Make it happen." I somehow knew that seeing me come was what would finish her off, complete her climaxing. "Don't wait," she ordered. "Go! Go!" So I did.'

'Was it good?'

'After so long it was quite strange, and not much relief, because it was all so detached, so to speak. But it certainly helped her. She bucked and writhed and gasped, and shouted something I didn't understand, and I felt like I had after the birdman's wife had come and moved away.'

'You'd come all right, but not in a cunt. Did you feel used again?'

'I did, rather, and, worse, I'd allowed myself to get aroused without full satisfaction.'

'Did that relationship continue?'

'Sort of. We continued keeping company, and we went through that performance twice more, partly because I had a silly hope she might actually help me directly. If she didn't let me in she might use her hand. Of course, she didn't, and she sensed I wasn't getting much out of it, and we drifted apart.'

7

I reflected on this story for the next few days, and at night he brought me to orgasm and ejaculated onto my breasts when they swelled. When the period was over, I resolved to try and make progress with him, in any way I could, and so I said, when we were once again in bed, before he began making to love to me, 'You really wanted to penetrate that woman?'

'Oh yes. I watched her fingers jammed in there and longed for it to be me.'

'If she'd wanted that, would you have been able to do it?'

'Well, I assumed I would, but it's a good question. Maybe I couldn't have.'

'Leslie, my dear,' I said, 'There was something your mother told you, wasn't there?'

'Yes, there was. You know what it was, don't you?'

'Yes, my dear Leslie, I do, and you should tell me.'

'She said, "My darling boy, when you find a woman who loves you and whom you love, the pair of you will want you to be inside her so much it will naturally happen." So...'

'Yes, my dear Leslie, so...?'

'Do you love me, Norma?'

'You know the answer, Leslie, my darling. Next question?'

'Do I love you, my dear Norma?'

'That's the one...'

'Norma, Norma, Norma, I do.'

This was a declaration, an admission actually, that had been a long time coming, and prevented until now with fears about my just wanting his cock, or treating him as needing therapy, or being content with no more than a fond friendship. It cost him something to confess his feelings like this, and he buried his face between my breasts and shook with relief. I held him tight and waited for the implications of the situation.

After some minutes he raised his head, and said, 'I'm scared, Norma, scared.'

'Scared you still won't be able to enter me.'

'Yes. What shall I do?'

'You mean what shall we do,' I said, 'And what would your mother say?'

'She'd say, "Follow your instinct, your intuition. It's never wrong." Which means?'

'Don't think. Do whatever we want to.'

He threw off the bedclothes and drew away from me enough to study my body. Then he began to kiss me, and the kiss was the seal. We moved close and began to caress each other, and I have to say that while I have rather prided myself on describing the details of sexual encounters I have to cut to the chase, or the base, because I can't recall the progress of what happened. It simply flowed through a smooth series of touches, kisses, fondling, fingering and murmuring of endearments until the moment before what the manuals call 'intromission.' Latin for 'sending in.' The 'mission' is what you are sent on, an action to be completed. We were in the scissors position, his bottom on my right thigh, my left leg over his right shoulder, his fully erect cock pointing towards my vulva, which was oozing a little in anticipation.

'Noma, I love you,' he said, 'I'm going into you with my love.'

'Leslie,' I said, 'My love will enfold you.'

He slid that charming bottom up my thigh until the end of that great cock nestled between my labia. 'Wonderful,' he said, 'The feeling is wonderful. I'm going to enter slowly, relishing every inch, watching my parting the veil and gliding into the sacred grove.'

Of course, I watched, too, savouring every sensation as my vagina received him, settling round him, drawing him onwards, until he was almost all inside. I could feel his bulb pushing at my limits, shouldering my cervix. And we rested like that for some minutes, poised, on the brink, exalted.

'Squeeze me, darling,' he said, 'I don't want to move, to change how we are.'

I clenched my bottom and so sent a little pressure into my cunny, and he said, 'You're coming me, coming me. It's on the way.'

'You're coming me, coming me.' I could feel the penis stiffen and swell, and that led into my orgasm, as his ejaculations exploded deep, deep in my vagina, in my soul. We shook with the shared climax, utterly united, and gazed into each other's eyes as the ecstasy abated. Then we stayed motionless for a long time, silent and completely happy, content to await whatever next occurred.

What next occurred was that his cock softened somewhat, but remained safely held within me, and then it hardened again. He said, 'I'm going to come again.'

'Come again, darling,' I said.

He withdrew a couple of inches and released a flood of semen into my crack Then he drove in again and came at once, and the wonder and surprise of it set me away again, too. Which is where I will conclude this Chapter, with fulfilment.