Weekend at Samantha's

"We all thought you fancied Izzy, and she was mean to you to keep you away." A beat. "Did something happen today, in the kitchen?" Another beat. "Paul?"

He took a deep breath. "She kind-of came on to me."

She said nothing for a moment, but felt the silence needed filling. "You know, I did wonder. She was always so mean to you, so spiteful."

"Well, yeah exactly. I let her know it was never going to happen. She didn't take it very well; I get the impression she doesn't get turned down very often."

She nodded, that was true enough. Thin, blonde, blue eyes, good tits; the twins certainly had rolled double sixes when they were sorting out the looks. Then realisation dawned. "Is that why you were hiding in the summer house when I got back?"

"Let's just say they got a little carried away teasing me, and leave it at that. It's okay, I'm used to it."

She felt angry, but decided to drop it. Maybe she'd have a word with them, later, but no point spoiling the evening brooding about it. "You're too kind. I wish I could forgive that easily."

"I realised a long time ago that the only person that got hurt when I held a grudge was me."

Guilt ate at her. "Did you hate me, too? Did you forgive me?"

"Oh, Samantha, there's nothing to forgive. You were never actively mean to me, not that I remember. But I try not to focus on the past; all that it is good for is bringing me to where I am now, and this is the happiest I have ever been. That's down to you." With which he pulled her close, and kissed her on the top of her head.

///

The water was getting cold, so they climbed from the bath and wrapped themselves in soft, voluminous towels. Samantha dug around in her father's drawers for a moment, then took Paul's hand, and they headed back to her room.

"I know I'm not quite your first," she started.

He cut her off. "And I am so sorry about that. I won't lie and say that what happened to me in Canada was meaningless, but our time in the forest yesterday? That was magical. That's what I want to remember, for ever."

"You're so sweet." She untucked her towel, laid it on the bed, felt his eyes roam over her body. "But I cannot tell a lie, you are not my first."

Paul laughed. "You don't say." She slapped at him, playfully.

"But in a way, you are my first." She pulled him to her, discarded his towel, and they stood before each other as nature intended. "You do something to me, something I've not felt with anyone before. You get me here," touching her heart, "as well as, well you know. Down there. I've never..." she closed her eyes, breathed, opened them again. "I don't think I've ever truly loved anyone before. Not now I feel this way. About you."

He took her hands, breath shallow, on the verge of tears.

She took a deep breath. Okay girl, get a grip; this is what you've been leading up to. Commit yourself. "But then, I realised - there is something I can give you, that no-one else has had."

Paul realised, then, what she had in mind. "No, I couldn't possibly, you don't have to do that. You've given me so much already. Please, be sure."

"I've never been more sure, about anything." She pulled him to her, wrapped her arms round his waist, kissed him. "I love you, Paul. And what's more, I trust you. I know I'm safe, with you. If I ask you to stop, I know you'll stop. You have no idea how liberating, how sexy, that is. I could do anything, with you." She sat on the bed, laid back across the towel. "Say you will."

Paul looked down at this vision, this angel, begging him to do things to her that she'd never let anyone do to her before. He was drowning in emotions - pride, lust, love - and prayed not to disappoint her. "How do you want to... Err..."

"Like this, on my back. I want us to be able to watch each other." She leant over the bed, reached into her drawers, and palmed something, before lying back against the pillows, bunching herself up slightly against the headboard.

Paul reached for a spare pillow, and tucked it under her hips, raising her up from the mattress. "I think this will make us more comfortable." He was trying not to overthink the situation, because he was so nearly overwhelmed by the idea already. "I think I might need something, you know..."

She held out a small square foil packet. Extra safe, extra performance, it said. "It's got a numbing gel inside," she clarified. "Don't be offended."

"No, I think that's exactly what I'll need." No point trying this if he came just as they were getting started.

"Touch me," she said, pulling him close. He knelt over her, and slid his fingers and tongue into each end of her, working her over and preparing her for what was to follow. He felt her, so wet, so warm. "God yes, I need it. I'm ready."

He took the lube from the bedside cabinet, spread a little over his fingers, and reached down to her bud. He looked her in the eye, and she nodded. He could feel her pulsing against his fingertips. He applied a little pressure, and she pushed back at him. He reached over with his other hand, stroked at her clit, felt her arse twitch, and pushed. His finger slid inside her, just to the first knuckle, and he stopped. Her eyes were closed. She brought her hand over to meet his, at her pussy; that's when he saw what she'd leant over for earlier - a metal bullet vibrator. She pressed a switch at the base, and held it against her clit. "More," she said. With slow but deliberate movements he worked his index finger inside her, sliding it in and out until it was inside her up to his palm. "Please, yes, more," she begged. He withdrew back to the first knuckle again, then pressed his ring finger against her tight arsehole, pushing it in alongside his other finger. "Oh fuck," she said, as it slipped inside. It was so very tight, crushing his fingers, but the lube kept everything slippery. Soon both fingers were sliding in and out of her arse.

"Is that okay?" he asked.

She looked up at him, panting. "Fucking amazing," she said.

Her breath was fast and deep, causing her chest to heave in the most impressive fashion. He couldn't resist any longer, and pressed his face to the fullness of her breast, sucking and licking and nibbling at the flesh and the nipple while he worked his fingers in her most private hole.

"Oh my god, this feels so good," she breathed.

"It doesn't hurt?"

"Yeah, a bit, but in the best way."

Paul looked at his hand, middle fingers buried in her arse, while her pussy twitched as she played the vibrator over her clit.

"I think I'm ready," she said.

Paul tore open the foil packet, rolled the condom over himself, then knelt before her. Gently he withdrew his fingers from her arse, then put his hands behind her knees and pushed her legs up and out, fully exposing her pussy and arse to his view. He took his covered dick in his hand, directed the head against her bud.

"Are you sure?"

"Fuck yeah. Fuck my arse," she said. So, he pushed, and she relaxed, and he pushed harder... And something gave, and then he was inside her, her sphincter clamping hard around the base of his head.

"Oh fuck, stop, hold it there," she said. So hot, so tight, he could feel a pulse - his or hers he couldn't be sure, but the pounding called to something primal inside him. Presently, the constriction relented slightly; she nodded, and he found he could slide - ever so slowly and gently - deeper into her warm forbidden depths.

Carefully but deliberately, he began to rock back and forth. He watched her face; she was staring down her body at his cock, disappearing inside her. He daren't look; it was difficult enough to hold back while just looking at her face, her tits rolling with the motion of their bodies. He stole a glance, saw her pussy, lips engorged and reddened by blood flow, yearning to be touched; a trail of her juices tricking down towards his cock, which disappeared inside her just below her lips.

"Oh, sweet Jesus fucking Christ," she said. "Give it to me, give it all to me." She took her other hand, slid her fingers in her pussy and started furiously masturbating while the vibrator worked on her clit and he reamed out her arse.

It seemed the time for being gentle had passed; and Paul gave in to the animal within that just wanted to pound her. He grabbed her thighs, too tightly, and drove himself all the way into her, pulling almost out, driving back in, over and over.

"Yes! Yes! Fuck yes! Fuck me, harder! Harder! Hurt me, please, oh god yeah, make me cum! I need to come so fucking bad!" She looked up at him. "Give me your cum. Fill my arse. God, I love you, I love you, fuck me! Yes! YES! FUCK YES! YEEEEAHHHHHHHHHH!!"

Her back arched and her eyes rolled back, as the orgasm tore through her. She came, squirting and squirting all up his chest and over the bed. She crushed his cock as the waves of pleasure rolled through her, and the intensity brought him over as well, pulsing and firing load after load into her arse.

"Oh wow," she said, once she could talk again. "I love you."

"No, I love you! Fuck, that was so intense," he replied. "Should I..." he gestured moving away.

"Yeah, please. Slowly and gently." Paul rolled his hips backwards, and slid carefully out, her sphincter helping push him out as his head passed through. It had grabbed at the condom, so he had to pull that out after him; a bead of milky cum held momentarily inside her. He looked around for a bin. "Hey, what are you doing?" she asked. "You know where that belongs." And she took the condom from him, pulled it taut, and tipped the contents into her mouth. She rolled his cum round her tongue a few times, let him see it coating the inside of her mouth, then swallowed. "You're mine, and don't you forget it."

He collapsed beside her on the bed, looking down to where he'd just been. Thank goodness the towel was there; there was a huge pool of her cum and juices and lube and all manner of unspeakable things down there.

"I think I'm gonna need a shower," he said.

"Good idea," she said, took his hand, and they made their way towards the ensuite.

///

MONDAY

Warm water ran over young naked bodies; soapy hands slipped and glided over sensitive skin. Touching, wanting, needing. They danced round each other, pressing front to back, front to front, in their need to fully experience the other. Lips, tongues, hands met, parted again. Tasting, caressing, stroking. Tension building, lust burning, desire raging. The one giving all to bring the other, shaking, trembling, climaxing, relaxing.

Later, they lay on the bed, wrapped in towels, kissing and stroking back hair and gazing deeply into the other's eyes. Satisfied, sated, they drifted off to sleep in each other's arms.

Sunlight. Paul blinked back the brightness. He was pinned to the bed; laying on his back with Samantha's leg tucked over his, large soft boob resting against his rib cage, head in the crook of his shoulder. He was trapped, but could think of no finer place to be incarcerated. He lay, happy, watching her breathing in the warm dawn light, toying with her hair.

This girl, this fine beautiful sexy creature, was his. It was unreal, yet it was happening. She'd given him a gift, the most personal gift she had left to give. He would spend the rest of his life making sure she never regretted it.

Presently, nature's call became impossible to ignore. Gently, so as not to wake her, he kissed her forehead and rolled her gently aside so he could free his arm. He was briefly captivated by the way her tits slid over her chest as she moved, but realised that a raging hard-on would make his more pressing problems harder to deal with.

Ablutions completed, he pulled his shorts on and made his way downstairs. The dogs were pleased to see him, as ever, so he made sure to make a proper fuss of them - tickling tummies, stroking between ears and under chins, patting ribcages. He let them out into the garden so they too could relieve themselves, while he bustled around the kitchen. The sun was already half up; time to get the day started. A short while later, he loaded a tray with glasses of orange juice, a fresh pot of coffee, cream and sugar, and eggs benedict for two; then made his way back up to Samantha's bedroom.

She was just waking up as he came through the doorway, roused perhaps by the smell of cooking. "Good morning, beautiful," he said.

She just stared at him, taking it all in. He looked a little comical in his boxers, true - he was no hunk. But she saw past such superficialities now. "My god, you mean you can cook, too?" Kind, and generous, and talented; where have you been all my life.

Paul smiled, pleased to have pleased her. He walked over, placed the tray beside her on the bed, leant in for a kiss. She grabbed at him, pulled him down onto her.

"I love you," she cooed.

"I love you too. But the breakfast is going to get cold."

"Oh, this isn't going to take long," she said.

And she was right, but in the best way. One satisfying morning wake-up session later, they tucked into the lukewarm eggs and bacon. "This really is good," she said. "Where did you learn to cook like this?"

"From Dad," he said. "He was a great cook. And then after... After... he died, Mum was always having to work, so I cooked for us both when I got home from school so that she didn't have to."

He's stealing my heart, one beat at a time, she thought. Every new thing I learn is a new reason to love him. "Well, Paul's Dad, thank you very much!", and loaded another forkful into her mouth.

Paul's curiosity had been piqued the previous evening. So, once they had finished eating, he clumsily broached the subject. "What else have you got in your little box of tricks?"

"Really? You want to see?" Her exes sure liked her being cuffed to the bedposts, but none of them wanted to know about her other toys. Maybe they'd felt threatened by them. Paul's interest was a bit of a turn-on. When he nodded, she leant over and opened her little drawer. "This is my favourite," she said, daring out a seven-inch vibrator that was a succession of spheres, covered in bumps and ridges, a bright cyan-blue in colour. It looked like something from a 1970's science fiction book cover - a spaceship, or a future-city skyscraper.

"Really?" he said.

"Oh, yes," she said, struggling not to stroke it.

"But wouldn't you prefer something a little more... Um..."

"Natural?" she laughed. "Why would I want that? If I wanted a cock inside me, that would be easy enough to arrange. No, when it's for me, I want something a little more interesting."

They both stared at the sex toy, and there was a prolonged silence.

"Show me," he said.

"You want to watch me?"

"More than anything. Show me how you do yourself."

She blushed. Even after all they'd done, this was deeply personal. It was one thing to show him her toys, another thing completely to let him watch her using them. To let him use them on her. She wasn't sure; but her pussy was, it was wet and willing and eager to be pleased.

She laid back against the pillows, bent her knees and guided the toy to her opening. She switched the toy to its lowest setting, and the room filled with the noise of buzzing. Paul saw the tiny protrusions blur, and watched as she played the tip of the wand over her lips, over her clit. Watched as a bead of her juices ran from her slit, watched her eyes involuntarily close and her mouth fall open. Watched as she spread her lips with the fingers of one hand, and guided the toy inside with the other. Her lips closed around the first sphere, and she gasped.

Fascinated, he watched her slowly working the whole vibrator in and out of herself; her lips parting and closing over the nodules, watching as she played it at different angles; now brushing her clit, now pressing her g-spot. With her other hand she stroked at her tit. Paul was inexorably drawn to the other; bent forwards, cupped the softness in his hand, licked across the nipple, which made her jump.

"Fuck yeah, suck my tit," she demanded. He was delighted to oblige, and although he could no longer see what she was doing with the vibrator, he could hear the incessant buzzing, louder now she'd dialled it up to full power, and could hear the wet slapping and sucking noises as she worked it in and out of herself. Could smell the aromas of sex fill the room. His dick was achingly hard.

"Give me your cock," she pleaded. "In my mouth, now!"

He knelt up in front of her, and she dived, desperate, onto his cock, plunging it straight to the back of her throat and sucking harder than she'd done to him before. She was possessed, determined to take all of him, but the angle was wrong. She pushed him down, onto his back, then flipped over to lie sideways onto him, pushing the vibrator deep inside her as she lay on top of it, impaled at both ends.

As she swallowed him, Paul didn't know what to do with his hands, balled in the duvet cover. He looked along her; face in his lap, looking away, boobs under her, smooth back leading down to her pert arse facing him, legs going on forever, rocking back and forth as she continued working the sex toy inside herself. Her throat constricted round the end of his cock, and he felt her moaning and choking herself. He brought one hand to her hair, intending to stroke it back from her face, but she pushed herself harder over his cock as he touched her, pretending he was forcing her down onto him. The moaning became more insistent; he curled his fingers into a fist around her hair and let her fantasy play out. With his other hand he cupped her arse, sliding his fingers through the crease. He felt her lower body buzzing, the power of the vibrator throbbing through her nether regions. Her crack was slippery from her juices. He reached down and round, found her arsehole, and stroked across it.

"Mpfh! Uh-huh, ffmph!"

He teased at her hole, letting it cup the tip of his finger. It was twitching; she was in the throes of another orgasm, how many this was he didn't know, but the bed underneath her was soaked. She rolled her shoulders, twisting at her hips so she was now facing him, impossible cleavage on show, and with his dick buried in her mouth, nostrils flaring as she struggled for breath. One eye looked up at him, pupil wide, sparks and flames seeming to dance inside.

That look... It was too much for him. His own fire boiled from his balls and shot down his shaft, between her ruby lips and deep into her willing, desperate mouth. He watched her suckle on him, her hips shaking from her own climax, until he was spent; then she pulled free of him, gasping, strands of saliva laced with his cum spiderwebbing between her lips.

"Fucking hell!" she said. "I've not come that hard since... I can't remember."

"You're incredible." He tucked her hair back behind her earls, stroked her cheek. She kissed his hand, slid back up beside him, and spooned into his side. Unfazed, he kissed her, deeply, tasting the memory of himself inside her.

///

He stared at her lycra-covered arse as she pedalled up the lane in front of him, dogs gleefully running and bounding along beside them. Another beautiful early summer's day; blue sky with some high wispy clouds, bees dancing along the bramble hedgerows, birds swooping effortlessly through the blue.

Having been largely cooped up in the house all weekend, the dogs needed a good run. Samantha dug bikes out of the garage, and they sped off together into the countryside behind the house, dogs chasing and yapping, happy to have the freedom. Paul wore a borrowed shirt and shorts, and carried a rucksack containing their picnic. He refused to let Samantha carry it; partly wanting to be a gentleman, but mostly so he had an unobstructed view of her in the form-fitting clothing. The shorts clung to her every curve, and the sports bra struggled to contain her, boobs swinging as she leant forward to the handlebars.