Wedding Day No. 02

As I did that, looking and touching and kissing each one, I could smell her again, her arousal fresh and clean now.

So I followed the instructions on the arrow's shaft and tasted her excitement. She was hot and thick, almost sticky, and sweet as I licked and tasted and enjoyed.

And oddly, even though I had been pretty much steadily erect for most of the afternoon - thank you Viagra - I felt no particular urge to finish. She was hot and wet and tight, but that was only part of it. This was beyond just fucking. This was making love. We shared kisses, enjoying each other's tastes. We shared whispered endearments. We said, "I love you" back and forth, and for my part anyway, meant it.

I felt the rhythm of her hips speed up and some urgency in the way she thrust to meet me.

"Wait for me, Uncle Phil, please," she said, her voice breathy now, she was panting a little.

I kissed her but kept my slow, steady rhythm going.

"I'm in no hurry," I said, my tongue probing her ear.

"Oh, MY," she breathed, and I knew she was getting close.

"Not yet," I said, and slowed my rhythm.

She moaned and thrust, seeking more.

"Uncle Phil," she sort of groaned.

"Say please," I said.

"Please," she said, her mouth splitting into a smile.

"Say it like you mean it," I said.

"Please," she said, her voice very breathy now, "Please, God, please."

"What do you want?" I asked, holding her eyes and keeping that slow rhythm going.

"Finish me," she said, "Please. Make me climax. Make me cum. Please."

I pulled out of her quickly, drawing a little cry, and flopped onto my back.

"Take what you want," I said.

She giggled, swung a big leg over me, guided me, and took me into her body.

I watched her face and saw her cumface building up as her eyes got big and her forehead scrunched into distinct horizontal lines.

When she came it was worth the wait. It was hot and thick and soaked my balls as she threw her head back and cried a soft, "Yessssssssssssssss."

When she caught her breath I dug my fingers into the fat pads of her hips and said, "Again."

I squeezed, drawing a cry, but her hips were moving again.

The second orgasm was as good as the first, hot and wet and when she squeezed it was like a hand squeezing me.

"AGAIN," I said, my fingers digging in again, making her cry out.

The third time she had to strain to make it. She was panting and sweating and the orgasm was different. This time it was hot and wet and thin. I thought for a moment that she had lost bladder control but the scent was pure womanneed.

"Give me your weight," I said, pulling on the soft pads of her armfat.

She slowly leaned forward, holding me inside of her, and it was as wonderful a sensation as I had hoped. She was engulfing me. She was overheated and sweatslick and I loved it all.

My body surprised me then by ejaculating. It was a good ejaculation, three distinct pumps, and it drew a soft, "Yesssss," from her.

But as happens after a certain age, I softened quickly and slipped out drawing a little "mew" sound from her.

She rolled off of me and we lay side by side then, kissing, sweating, getting our breath back.

"Thank you," she said.

"No, thank you," I said.

We both giggled at that.

I scooted down and took her nipple, the one with a spider, and started suckling.

I drifted off and when I woke she was gone.