Just a friendly note to the spammers.

And now for something completely different.

The Mound of Venus.

Ami had been working very hard, and she's almost always completely stressed.

As we curled underneath her exquisite tiedye duvet, the coolness of the sheets ensconced us as we listened to the clicking insects singing outside the window. All was dark, all was comfortable.

I smiled as she cuddled close. Feeling her long, auburn locks cascade across my bare chest and shoulder, I smiled to myself as I thought of the
small purple vibrator that she openly kept on the bedside shelves, just beside the egg vibe that I had given to her.

She was stiff beside me. I could tell that she was trying to relax, but to little avail. I kissed her head, deeply inhaling the scent of her russet locks of hair. I whispered in the dark.

"Would you like me to jack you off? So you can sleep better?"

Dark though it was, I have no doubt she she blinked several times as she digested my question. It often amuses me, in a perfectly nurturing way, to introduce her to new experiences. She paused.

"Um," she whispered back as a breeze caught her plants near the window, "would you like to? You're not too tired?"

I chuckled.

Her lips met mine as my right palm began a slow caress down the shoulder that rested on my chest, along her arm, and soon gently clutched her solar plexus. As always, Ami's skin was warm, soft, yielding, just slightly innocent. I pressed my head to her hair again, savouring her scent, feeling a slight stirring in my cock as I took her energy in.

She dropped more weight of herself against me. She began to relax more. I smiled in the dark.

My arm continued to explore under the pillowy duvet. I traced circles around her navel, and after completely bypassing her mound, began tracing a slow finger in circles at her upper right thigh. She sighed gently.

Clutching her thigh now, caressing it wholly, my fingers very almost grazed against the light tuft of black fur she kept between her legs. I opened my palm and grasped her thigh firmly, squeezing her, knowing that her petals were oh so slightly parted as I firmly tugged her flesh. I kissed her temple.

Wiry, feral, just slightly curled fur at my fingers now. How I adore a nest of pubes. My fingertips swirled in slow circles as I enjoyed the texture, the faint coarseness of her forest thatch, and my cock grew alongside her leg as I closed my eyes and licked my lips.

But, no, I wasn't going to taste her tonight.

Instead, my fingertips found themselves darting lower, and soon both index- and forefinger found themselves making gentle caresses at her labial mound. I lowered my hand further and gently cupped her, holding the entirety of her feminine essence in the hole of my hand, embraced, possessed, adored. I felt the Mound of Venus of her vulva against the Mound of Venus of my palm.


I brought my fingers up to my face to lick them liberally. I returned them to her core, and this time, my first and second phalanges angled themselves convexly so their nubs could press sensually just above her hardening clitoris. I began to swirl them, feeling her nubbin against my fingers.

Fast, slow. Clockwise, counterclockwise. Hard, soft, hard, fast, clockwise, soft, counterclockwise, wetter, firmer. A probe within, just so slightly.

Slow. Very slow. Firmer. Clockwise. A few gentle pats. Another probe, feeling the new wetness, a finger trailing it upward. Clockwise, soft, softer, hard, harder, harder still, faster, even faster, spinning, my left hand caressing as she rests her head on my chest, firmer, wetter, spinning.

My hand is a swirling blur under the duvet, but the actual pressure against her flesh is moderate. I'm jilling her. She's going to cum in my hand.

And in another few moments, as she rested herself against me in the dark, the summer breeze whispering through the window, Ami let out two... three... four quick and deep gasps in succession. I felt her wetness against my gradually-slowing fingers. I felt her tense up upon me, hold herself so still, shake, quake, and soon drop her weight against the bed and my broad chest.

She had cum.

I slowed my fingers down, but not exactly right away.

She kissed me deeply, moaning into my mouth.

We fell asleep.

She came for another ride: second gear.

In the kitchen, the wine was still breathing, although not nearly as hard as we were in the bedroom.

I was hard as stone, grinding the length of my cock against the soft, flannel sheets as I lay on the bed, my legs akimbo, my chin and tongue drenched with her elixir. Her firm, warm thighs were splayed wide just above my shoulders, and my hands caressed her taut stomach as her shudders slowed down gradually. Her dewy, black stripe of pubes tickled the tip of my nose, and I turned my face to softly graze my cheek against that sexy tuft. It had been almost four years since the Tomboy's pussy had been at my mouth, and now it was time to fuck her. Hard.

I drew myself up to my knees, and her eyes were still clenched shut when she felt my hands begin to grip her lower thighs and splay her in place. She smiled wickedly when she looked up to me, her head wholly surrounded by multiple feather pillows. She knew what was coming: she opened her legs even wider, her knees bent, her mouth open as she sucked for air and looked into my eyes.

Resting her legs on my shoulders, I chewed on her right calf while I slipped on the condom. Holding the base of my cock in my fist, I tapped my cockhead against her eager nubbin, stroking and pressing my girth against her mound. Still on my knees, I inched my body closer to hers until our thighs met and her legs ran upward against me. In one slow, prolonged movement, I gently the slid the entire length of me inside her willing, eager, dripping core, my eyes closing tight now as I felt her grip me.

Her fists gripped the sheets as the look in her eyes shifted from yearning to yielding, her mouth agape in a silent cry, until I felt myself press against her cervix and began to thrust and pump.

Soon, my hands were gripping her legs from under her knees, gently forcing them to bend until they were almost meeting her full and shaking breasts. In this position, my body weight and angle held her in place so I could Take her and give her the full length of me in deep, demanding strokes. Her cunt was completely free to me now, her legs held open, her body in check, and when I started to thrust faster and faster still, she cried aloud in staccato pants and wails. The hardwood frame of the bed pounded against the hardwood floor, and I smiled to myself as the thudding blended sexily with her growing keens and groans.

Truth be told, I never expected that I'd ever fuck the Tomboy again, and now here she was, finally getting something from me that she had told me she had been longing for again.

She is so good for my ego.

I set both of her ankles across my right shoulder and kept the thrusting pace deep inside her. My left hand steadied her in place with a palm firmly planted against her chest, and she managed to wiggle a hand underneath us to grasp my smacking, full sack. I licked my thumb and wiggled it against her hard little clit. She cried out my name.

With a laugh, I pulled myself away from her and spun her around on the bed. Before me was her beautiful, heart-shaped ass, and while I intended to yank it high in the air and take her from behind, I knew I had to enjoy it up-close-and-personal first.

With a satisfying grunt, I cupped both of her asscheeks and brought my teeth to her flesh. Bites and nibbles later, she both giggled and yelped in brief spasms of teasing pain. I parted her open and delved my chin deep between her strong thighs to swab my tongue against her folds again, and upward still to dart a small circle or two around her clenched, dark rosebud. She moaned resonantly in reply.

"Mmm... you like my ass, don't you?" she asked as she pressed her face into the mound of pillows. I replied by pressing a wet fingertip firmly against her anus. Her head shot up.

"Yeah... oh fuck yeah," she said over her shoulder.

I knelt up again and gripped her hips firmly to tug her behind upward, setting her halfway on her knees. Again, she knew what was coming, and pressed her chest down to the bed. I smirked as I held her right asscheek in my grip then, opening her up, and aimed my cock to her pussy with my left fist. I tugged her backward and against me, filling her again. My knees weakened when I felt her behind slap against my pelvis and as I relished the sight of her cheeks below me. I ran nails down her back. Gripping a handful of her ass, I pumped and tugged her, fucking her steadily and deeply. I brought my thumb to her rosebud again.

"Yes, fuck yes," she panted. "Play with my ass. Do you know that the only ass play I ever get is from you or Terry?"

(Yes, she really said that. At that moment, I was so glad that I was behind the Tomboy, because the look on my face probably would have stopped traffic. Only the Tomboy, one of the most aggressively pro-poly women I have ever known, could have the cajones to mention a mutual friend and another one of her lovers mid-coitus. From any other woman, I probably would have been dumbstruck and maybe offended; but from the Tomboy, it was just too fucking funny.)

(And it didn't say much about her dumbass boyfriend if he wasn't giving her something she so obviously wanted. Especially considering that, thanks to a military and outdoorsy life, her ass is fucking yum. But I digress.)

So I bit my tongue, shook my head in amused disbelief, and wrapped her now-much-longer-than-I-remember-it brunette hair around my fist to tug her head back as I gave her two or three oh-yeah-take-this thrusts into that aggressively pro-poly pussy of hers. She screamed. I smiled.

I kept at her that way, fucking her hard and fast, and gradually slipped my lubed thumb into her backdoor. By then, her moans were reverberating throughout the bedroom as I took her, she face down and ass up, until the crook of my thumb made its way past her quivering sphincter.

I didn't fuck her ass. In retrospect, I should have. But I did discover something new for me when I found that my crooked, inserted thumb made a perfectly good hook when I raised my arm high and above her. As I kept the pace with my stiff, eager cock, it was my crooked thumb halfway inside her ass that I used to raise her butt even higher, pulling her upward with it, holding her high with it, my right bicep straining as I hooked her with it while I fucked her again and again and again and again and as she screamed aloud again and again and again and again in reply.

I was pumping hard and fast into her gorgeous, gripping pussy when I felt my balls tighten. Now pressing her down from her shoulderblades with one hand, a tight hold on her hip with the other as I matched her backstrokes against me with strong tugs to my pelvis, she looked over her shoulder to me when she felt my cock swell. Arching my hips higher, I felt burst after burst of me fill the condom as her pussy squeezed me, milked me, and as her bottom kept smacking audibly against my skin. With each stroke, my draining sack slapped against her aching and thrumming clit, and the Tomboy screamed aloud as she quivered and came underneath me.

We laughed. I collapsed. Warm towels. Panting. Riding the waves. Red wine and steak. Long conversations. More catching up. Her warm, naked skin beside me with the coming of sleep.

Beating the heat.

"Wanna join me in the shower?"

She smiled and lifted the blue Tshirt over her head, revealing those small, pert breasts that I like so much. The "muffins". How many times had we laughed over that nickname as we lay awake in the morning, contemplating breakfasts?

Cool water pattered on my head and seethed through my long locks as she stepped in after me. She made cute clowny faces when the spattering water splashed her. I smiled as I enjoyed looking at her trim form, the dimples above her ass, the way she slicked back her short, dark hair to reveal the spikes through her earlobes.

Gently, I drew her close, and my chest swelled when she groaned in approval. My palm spread itself out and across her belly, a finger playfully sliding across her tiny navel, while I pressed her close to me and started chewing on her shoulders and the nape of her neck. She loves it when I do that. The fingertip at her navel slid lower until I could just barely feel the top of her sexily trimmed black stripe. My cock began to swell, and I could feel the pressure build within the length of me, widening me, raising my girth in slow upward waves until the middle of my shaft started to meet her pert cheeks.

She turned to face me and thrust her tongue into my mouth as we kissed. The water continued to pound on us, rivulets skimming through her clavicles and between her pretty wee tits when she reached forward to grasp me in her hand. She lathered her fingers with soap and started to pull and stroke my growing cock. By the time her other hand was gently squeezing my balls, both of my own hands began to play with her as well, cupping her round little ass with one as another teased her mound.

Holding on to her gorgeous ass always makes me hard as stone.

My fingers probed between her thighs, through her drenched folds, and easily found a hardening shaft of her own. The tips of my fore- and middlefingers began to press and circle slowly, gently, at either side of her hood until I felt it begin to swell and become larger. Her button was soon primed, and as she steadied herself before me and continued to heft my girth and squeeze me in her hand, I began to jill her off with consistent circular strokes. I lightened my touch when drawing toward me, pressing more firmly when fingering forward, alternating pressure and speed as she started to gasp and squeeze her dark eyes shut. It doesn't take her long to cum from there, especially if she's getting her little ass squeezed at the same time.

She came suddenly, loudly, pressing her head against my chest as she panted and felts both the waves within her and from the water continuing to rain on her bent back. Her hand never left my cock, and I loved the tightening grip as she held on to me like an anchor to keep her steady.

When she had centered herself again, she squatted down and washed away what lingering soap remained on my shaft and balls. Soon, the cool water was starkly contrasted by her warm, wet mouth when she hefted me from my base with her hand, opened wide, and began to slurp on my silken head. I closed my eyes and enjoyed both the feel of the water through my hair and her soft tongue along the underside of me as she took me deeper in her mouth. When she started bobbing her head, I relished how her soft lips felt as they tugged backwards and forwards across the crown of me. Her tongue swirled under my frenulum while I was in her mouth, and hearing her happy moans just made me harder.

I arched my back and held her head gently. I started to thrust forward, filling her mouth with dick. She held the base of me in her fist and soon added wet strokes with her hand to her gentle slurping. I felt myself widen even more, pressure building inside my pipe with every stroke of her tightening lips over my cockhead.

She stood. It was time to take this to the bed.

Watching television with Tammi and Joe.

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In the bluelight.

The room was blue with morning light, and all was quiet and relaxed and sensual as we held one another with legs akimbo on the silk sheets. We smelled of the previous night's sex, the daquiris that still lingered on our tongues, and sleep. It was intoxicating.

My cock was alert and thick, strong against the warm softness of her thigh, as my body roused himself from slumber. In the distance, a cat mewled for breakfast. I coiled my arm around her waist and gently thrust my shaft against her leg as I held her back to my chest. She smiled in the bluelight and groaned quietly as she felt the tip of me softly poke toward the curve of her delightfully pert little butt. She turned around to face me, reached under the sheet, and with a small, warm hand, gently cupped and held my full and smooth balls. I love it when she does this, when she does this unexpectedly, when she does this because she desires to, and when he does this, it transports her from the slightly shy and introverted self she so often shows the world into that lustier version of her that I've come to treasure nurturing.

Kara stroked my cock slowly as I lay on my back. I felt thick and I was throbbing as she pulled the sheet down to look at me and her influence. I listened to her breathing quicken as her head rested beside mine, her tender mouth to my ear.

To me, the only kind of woman who is sexier than a completely confident and sexually empowered one is a curious and excited innocent who is opening herself up and on the path to getting there.

I groaned as she stroked me, her soft hand gliding along my shaft and firmly gripping my girth. I was straining. The muscles in my dick were beginning to tighten more and more, needing attention.

"Suck it, baby," I spoke into the blue. "Suck my cock."

She paused, and in the darkness, I knew she was smiling.

"Please," I added, with a chuckle.

She kissed me and her smooth, tiny body began snaking down toward my legs. Her adorable little tits grazed my ribs as she clung to me on her way down, and soonshe knelt betwen my opened legs, my full balls and straining dick in her view.

"Well," she whispered as she brought her face to me, "as long as you're saying 'please'."

It isn't that Kara dislikes fellatio, but I think she hasn't had to many expeiences with men who are willing to (much less enjoy) giving her the nurturing praise that she deserves. This breaks my heart for her, but I also languish in the opportunity to metaphorically hold her hand from time to time, and give her genuine, loving, hot and positive feedback. Doing that is part of my fun anyway.

I like to believe that, during one occasion when I simply invited her to suck my cock at her own pace and leisure, and for her own pleasure and exploration, that in that moment I began escorting her away from past baritone voices in her head that made demands without regard to her own fun. "I want you to have fun," I had often said to her.

On this morning, she had lots and lots of fun.

Her kissable lips parted to take my cockhead in, and I smiled as I felt my glans welcomed along her tongue. She bobbed her head slowly, feeling me in her mouth, coating my girth with her saliva as she gently held on to my balls. I squirmed.

"Suck it on the upstroke, babe." I whispered. "That feels so good." When she did so, her energy shifted slightly, and I knew she was tasting my hard and warm flesh even more so than before. She began moaning with my cock in her tightening mouth, and I screwed my eyes shut with pleasure.

She started bobbing her head faster, her sucking continuing, and it wasn't long before I was caressing her short hair between my fingers and thrusting gently upward and past her taut, wet lips. Feeling her wet and tightened lips pass over my glans, again and again, had me seeing stars.

"Let me feel your tongue too," I whispered breathlessly. As she continued to suck, she began darting the tip across the head of my cock, and my back arched as I thrust deeper into her not-quite-as-innocent little mouth.

She withdrew me to slide her tongue down the length of my shaft, and then returned t sucking and stroking me with a coiled fist around the base of my dick. I was drenched in her saliva and as she jacked me I felt her wet fingers grip tightly and direct my cockhead into the hollow of her cheeks. She slurped noisily, passionately. The high school teacher was sucking my cock as the morning sun crept into the bedroom, and she was well on her way toward earning a stellar grade of her own.

Suddenly, she withdrew, gasping, her face wet and contorted with passion. She rested her forehead against my thigh while her hand continued to blur as she jacked my cock, covered in her spit. She jacked me quickly as she gasped, her legs writhing as she felt her own desire swell her beautiful, feral cunt to rhubarb red. As she caught her breath, I tugged at her hair gently and listened to her as she marveled at how much she was enjoying this. How much she liked the taste of my dick in her mouth. How she liked feeling me thrust along her tongue. How she liked feeling her lips widen enough to take me.

It wasn't long before she was sucking me more, and it wasn't much longer after that before she was climbing on top of me to thrust me deep inside her waify body. But before she did, she made a suggestion that both surprised and elated my tawdry, naughty self.

"If you're going to teach me so much about this," she said with a grin, her mouth still puffy and wet from feasting on my dick, "then maybe I need a schoolgirl uniform."



As you read this, she and I are taking a trip to a cabin on a secluded Ontario lake. A sauna, the expanse of trees, and a fireplace await us there. We will do yoga and I will roast cornish hens. We will canoe. She already knows that I expect her to suck my cock in the woods. I intend to fuck her long and hard as she splays herself over a stone or a log or the desk rail of our cabin.

After then, a uniform could be a definite possibility. Oh, irony.

Quickies.

> Date: Tue, 30 Jun 2009 17:46:24 -0400
> Subject: Re: A Quickie ...
> From: Kara
> To: Rogue
>
>
>
> >
> > I like quickies, too! And then going out on the town still feeling and
> > smelling someone else all over me ;)
>
>
> Fantastic. Then here's my kiss, and yield to me when I spin you
> around, place your hands on the edge of the kitchen table, undo your
> pants, tug them down to your calves, and squat behind you as I swab my
> warm, wet, searching tongue throughout and deeply inside your
> beautiful core until you're drenched and panting. Feel me stand up
> behind you and enjoy the sight of me from over your shoulder as I
> press your chest down to where we share meals. My warm and strong
> hands will feel firm and demanding at your hips just after I've parted
> your bottom and spread your thighs, and just before you hear the
> drawing of a zipper and feel the spongy, warm, urgent tip of my girth
> as it begins to part past your glistening petals. Feel yourself get
> taken by me, the fullness of me slowly sliding into your lovely body
> until your bottom is pressed firmly against my pelvis. I want to fuck
> you, baby. In the kitchen. Hard.
>


Okay,

Now I am WET!!

:)

Metamorphosis.

It was during one of our relaxed, dinner-and-a-DVD dates when, not long after we had smoked some excellent Jamaican herb, she started to pass by me in the hallway. I was coming out of the bedroom for some reason or other, and she was walking from the studio toward the kitchen. I have a long bookcase unit against the south wall of the hallway, filled with treasures about anthropology, history, mythology, sexuality, mysticism. An autographed, out-of-print hardcover from Stewart Farrar. The Egyptian Book of the Dead. Freemasonic texts published almost one hundred years ago.

It's very difficult for two people, when using the hall at the same time, to avoid coming against each other. Framed photographs, and an original work and personal gift from artist Cindy Sudano, on the opposing wall require some caution. What a fitting place to have serendipitously pulled Dean, who in both look and spirit always made me think of the ladies of some ancient, Mediterranean city, aside for some passionate kissing.

It could have been a simple peck. It could have been a light brush of my hand against the small of her back as she strode by. It began as a tender grasp of one another when our hips brushed together, my arm coiling around her small waist as I bowed my head between her neck and shoulderblade to kiss her there. We began facing opposite directions and holding one another as if in mid-tango. And then we stopped.

Passion is a power that I love to feel overwhelm me, and I worship that cascading, utterly carefree moment when all other consciousness is suddenly, irretrievably cast aside and all that matters is the yearning and the pursuit to satisfy the yearning.

Dean brought her arm to my back and pulled me closer while, at the same time, my right hand slid to her thigh and tugged it firmly against my leg. We conjoined in the hallway under the bright stares of the pot lighting, beacons that glared white and warmed our clothes and skin. Our lips met hungrily, our mouths parting with faint gasps as our heads moved in slow circles. The moistness of her lips inflamed me, and my grip to her thigh became more insistent, our bellies pressing against one another. She ran fingers throough my long locks and grunted sexily, quietly, as the energy began to shift and I became slightly more forceful, demanding.

We said nothing to each other. Her eyes pleaded to me. Gently but firmly, I grasped a fistful of her short and curly hair between my fingers, twisted her head to the side, and pulled her mouth hard against my own. She parted her mouth open with a stunned awareness, her eyes tightly shut, and my lips crushed against hers with possession. No gentle embracing, no coy maneovres, no subtle gestures would this be.

She was mine.

I stood my bearing, my heavy steeltoes firm against the floor as I prepared to manhandle her body weight. My left hand suddenly swung to her right leg as my right hand continued to hold her by her hair. I was grasping and squeezing her thigh over the thin camo pants she was wearing (we had matching pairs), and now my right fist changed intent from gentle tugging to an urgent pulling of her hair. With her small, auburn curls held tightly in my fist, I held her head in the same one one would command a cat by possessing the scruff of its neck in a moment of discipline. I tilted her head in the ways that pleased me best, moving her kissing mouth to where I desired it against my own lips, to my neck, to my chest. Dean began to go limp and pliant, unsteady on her feet, but my hand at her leg kept her weight in balance. She was panting. Beads of sweat started to seethe from her brow. Her mouth remained open like a salmon struggling for life.

My hand left her leg and coarsely ran up the length of her ribs and over to her black Tshirt. Her arms gripped my back and held my ass. There was no gentility here: I was pawing at her breasts now, holding and squeezing her tits through the cotton like a man who hadn't handled them in years. I felt her flesh meld between my strong fingers as my squeezes pulled her skin into my palms with heat. Cupping her left breast tightly, I tugged it upward as my other hand yanked her head back and exposed all of her neck. She cried out and opened her eyes, pupils dilating under the bright lights. I moved closer, bringing my covered but hard cock against her leg as I started to rub my girth against her.

Quickly, I reached behind myself with both hands and yanked hers away from my ass. Gripping her wrists, I placed her palms on the white pine shelf behind her, just under her hips, before resuming my naked possession of her heaving tits. Standing resolutely before her, now both of my hands were clutching, pawing, squeezing, cupping her breasts while my kisses continued to crush her. I started to pull her top off, yanking the black wifebeater over her shoulders.



But that fucking bra was in my way. Grunting in annoyance, I grabbed her by the back of her head and thudded her brow against my right shoulder, bending her over just slightly. Dean was shaking now, quivering, still panting, and she stayed perfectly still while my hands made quick work of the hooks at her back. Throwing the bra to the floor, I kept her exactly where she was while I started to undo the button of those camo pants, yanking the zipper down, and sliding my hands inside them to squeeze her little ass.

She raised her head to passionately kiss me, and I could taste the sweat on her upper lip. Her bare ass was in my grip, and I squeezed and caressed her asscheeks like the property they were to me at that moment. Cupping a cheek in each firm, hot hand, I met her kisses while our tongues darted, and I flicked the tip of my index finger against her winking backdoor. I pressed the fingertip against her there, feeling her anus open so very slightly, just enough to hold onto the smallest bit of my fingertip in a circular embrace.

I brought both hands up. I held her hair again as I kissed her. I started to tug her hair now, savagely, tightly, causing her to yelp and stare into the lights above us again. I held her head high as I bit and licked at her bared tits, the dark crinkled nipples hard and yearning up for attention. And then I pressed the full breadth of my right hand, palm against her chest and fingers spread, just under her neck and shoved her backward and into the wooden bookcase.

It shuddered with the force of my shove as her back thudded, small pieces of sculpture left shaken and spinning, volumes of books resettling, a framed picture knocked to the floor. She stood there now, topless and her pants in a wayward mass around her calves and ankles, shaking. Her back squarely met one of the support planks of the bookcase, her shoulderblades against copies of Ovid's Metamorphoses and Suetonius' The Twelve Caesars. How fitting.

I pulled her panties down.

Resting my hip against the bookcase, I leaned beside her now and returned to enjoying her breasts as she gasped for air. Holding her close to me as she wavered and swooned, my right hand began pawing, slapping, pinching her tits, her flat belly, her bare thighs. I smacked her thighs to urge her to part them more, and she was obedient. After enjoying the feel of her torso some more, I cupped my hand and slid it between her legs to completely cover her drenched and quivering cunt.

I looked into her eyes. I brought her mouth to mine again. I started to swirl my fingers, and soon I had her outer labia softly pinched between them and felt her urgent clit, hard as a stone, in the middle of her soaked flesh. I spun circles. I tugged upward. I smacked her cunny with broad, flat fingers. Dean's knees started to buckle, and I held her weight as she leaned between against me and the bookcase. I probed her with firm, spreading fingers, feeling her urgent need and her soaking sex. Holding her wet flesh between my fingers again, spinning my fingers in fast circles, it wasn't long before Dean's head arched back against the wood and she began screaming in long, loud, repeated, gasping bursts.

Her cries echoed throughout that narrow hall, and, upstairs, I both hear and feel the presence of someone wearing shoes slowly walking through their own hall above us and stopping not three feet away and over our heads. One of the Women Upstairs, or one of their boys, had heard us, came closer, and now was listening to Dean's screaming climax. I could picture her or his eyes blinking in amazement, because mine were as I smiled a Top's smile.

As my hand continued to possess her tight, soaking flesh, Dean started quaking when the first streams of her grrlcum began to gush from her. Her knees buckled again, and now she slid her back back down against the naked wood and crouched slightly as I supported her weight with my hips. My spinning fingers were unrelenting while stream after stream after long and pungent stream flooded from her and splashed against my boots, the floor, the opposite wall before she completely collapsed into my arms, panting, exhausted, her camos and panties in a crumpled heap around her boots.

April foolishness, or three tales of sexual stupidity.

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With the gypsies in the mountains.

I held her hand as she steered her tiny white Honda Accord, nicknamed "Zippy," through the snow-covered and muddy dirt roads of the central Pennsylvania mountains. We were laughing one minute, kissing the next, totally enjoying one another's company and the unrestricted desire that comes with newfound passion. The love that we would share for several more years was still new, and life was excellent.

It was New Year's Eve 2003, and we were on our way to a party being held at the remote and rustic house of one of her SCAdian friends. Snowy miles would separate us from the nearest neighbour, and experience working at various Renaissance festivals already told me that the people we'd be celebrating with would most likely be as relaxed, deliciously bohemian, and friendly as we were. They were the "Clan of Wolf Gypsies," she was a member, and I was her guest.

After we finally found the house, bleats of joy echoed among the icy birch trees from a cluster of people on a frozen porch. I was in the Grrl's territory now, and after she received hugs and kisses from the dreadlocked and earth-toned and bell-bedecked sirens who greeted us, I smiled as their eyes smirked approvingly. Apparently, word had gotten out about me. I shook hands and hugged these my friends whom I had never met.

Amid the laughter, we entered the dark house, the scents of the roaring fire in the parlour, roasted turkey from the kitchen, sensual oils like patchouli and sandalwood from the bodies close by, swirling around us. Someone was playing a dulcimer. The hearth and a handful of oil lanterns provided all the light that was necessary, casting the parlour in a warm honey-gold glow. I passed the bottles of wine I had brought to our hosts, and for a very long time found myself introduced to one excellent person after another. A dozen conversations resounded among wooden beams and rafters as this reunion of actors, dancers, artists, lovers, poets, craftspeople, and assorted other sybarites and sensualists enjoyed one another. This was familiar ground for me during those days, and I immediately felt at home. It wasn't long before my lover was whisked away, so I succumbed to another passion of mine and found myself in the kitchen, baking sweet potatoes in a Chambord sauce with a lovely trio of buxom, laughing, haughty wenches.

There was no dinner per se. People cooked, came into the kitchen, ate, and returned to their conversations and their drinks. One dish after another would simply arrive on a countertop or a table and gradually vanish amid the popping of uncorked bottles, the passing of leather skins bursting with honey mead, the clackle of beer bottle caps falling to the wood floor. Everyone shared, everyone tidied, everyone laughed.

I shook hands with one of her former partners, a tall, thin man with dangling black locks and sad eyes. He nodded when he learned who I was, who I was to the Grrl, and while it was cordial and friendly, I'll never forget the soft, pained look on his face. Years later, I would understand.

The Grrl and I cuddled as we watched the party behind an upstairs banister. In the dark, her back against my chest, she reached around herself and lowered the zipper of my jeans. She snaked her warm hand into my pants, doing a poor job of suppressing her giggles as her fingers encircled around my relaxed cock. I brought my glass around her shoulder to place its rim at her lips, and she laughed as droplets slipped down her chin while she kept feeling me up. Others came upstairs with drinks or food or to catch up on conversations with either of us, and all along her hand remained at my cock, squeezing and tugging at me gently. Holding her close, I felt the heat from the fireplace below surge upward to my face while I watched and listened, sipping mead, and letting her play languidly with my dick. I bent my head into the nape of her neck and planted soft kisses on her tattoo there, relishing her warmth and the taste of her skin.

A young woman came up the wooden stairs beside us, her velvet medieval gown slightly trailing behind her bare feet. She quietly walked right up the the Grrl, tilted her head, and gave her a slow, sensual kiss. The Grrl's hand stopped for a moment, then gave my shaft a hefty squeeze as I hardened more. She then withdrew her hand, turned to kiss me, and asked to excuse herself. Leaning close and whispering into my ear, she explained that the woman was an old friend whom she hadn't seen in a long while, and would I mind...?

Later, giddy with excitement, she found me again and asked to invoke one of our rules: if one of us wanted to enjoy playtime with another, we would first inform and acquire the others' consent. The rule, like us, was recent, and I smiled and blinked when I realized what was happening. I gave her a kiss, and bade her adieu.

The Grrl was thrilled. I learned later that some of her past male partners had given her a lot of grief about her bisexuality, and I was glad to not be among them. She was gone for a lot longer than I might have expected, which also told me that she was probably really enjoying herself. As I mingled and drank and had an excellent time, some of the others would ask me where the Grrl had gone. When I mentioned the young woman in the velvet dress, I received several knowing smiles and silent nods of understanding. The humour of it took the edge of off waiting.

Midnight was approaching when the Grrl returned. I smiled, handing her a flute of champagne. Accepting it, she kissed me hungrily and grabbed my ass. Her kiss tasted like clean, joyful pussy. My cock hardened as I fed from her mouth and then she whispered in my ear how she had taken the little miss into a walk-in closet, went to her knees, lifted her elegant dress, and gave her sweet head.

Among these lustful, happy gypsies, we toasted 2004 together.

Later, we would join several of her friends in a massive, wooden hot tub. It was a friendly and sensual soak, but completely tame until the Grrl went back to secretly handling my naked cock. The room was in near-total darkness, but a candle or two and the moonlight glowing on snowy windowsills still pleasantly revealed the assortment of bodies around us. The Grrl's impressively round ass when she would stand and turn. A tiny brunette's cute little derriere as she moved near her boyfriend. Breasts, legs, penises, chests of all shapes and sizes. How wonderful it is to enjoy being with others without shame or guilt or pressure and simply take mutual pleasure in the watching of one another being naked and relaxed.

The night drew long, and the food and drinking took its toll upon us. The sun was just beginning to rise when we, and so many others, found ourselves stretched on cushions on the rustic hardwood flooring. Where the house had been filled earlier with laughter, now gentle snoring and the occasional discrete sigh could be heard. We fell asleep instantly, and like so many others, would not wake until very late the next afternoon.

After a lazy "morning," we prepared to go, and many were the hugs that bade us goodbye. Zippy waited for us in the snow, and soon we were chilled and making our way through the Pennsylvania mountain roads again. We were bleary-eyed but blissful, struggling to stay warm in our heavy clothes in that tiny car.

We got lost. After stopping in the middle of a muddy trail and consulting our maps, we found ourselves embracing as the sunlight began dipping in the horizon during what still felt like morning to us. The skyline bled gold and red behind the white birch trees, the waning light casting blue shadows against the snow. It started to rain.

I held her face in my hands as I kissed her. I reached inside her leather jacket and cupped her breast as her tongue darted into my mouth. Once again, I felt her hand at my zipper, only this time she was reaching to withdraw me from my confines rather than tease me with her hand inside my jeans.

She stroked me to hardness as we kissed, feeling the wind gently shake the Accord and hearing the drumbeat patter of cold rain on the metal roof. She lifted my wool coat from before me, and leaning over the stick shift, lowered her lovely head into my lap and wrapped her warm, wet, strong, soft lips around the silky head of my straining cock. Closing my eyes, I moved my seat back and angled my hips upward so she could most easily have access to all of my length. She responded hungrily, repositioning herself for comfort, and began a steady bobbing of her head as she sucked me. Her mouth felt incredible, and her swirling tongue curled itself around my dick in a way that left me in puddles. I thrust upward gently as she took as much of me in her mouth as she could, all the while slurping noisily and squeezing my glans with her amazing lips. I held her head, and soon she was bobbing it faster and faster, gulping, breathing through her nose as I felt the tension build in my loins and burst torrents of warm cum into her sucking mouth. She held the base of my dick steady as I came, moving her lips and tongue over and across my head while I was shooting, making me scream and see bursting stars. She swallowed my cum, continued bobbing slowly as I was left shaken under her, and eventually pulled away.

She looked up at me, her face red with exertion. She was breathing heavily, smiling naughtily, her eyes glazed over and glowing. Smiling, she cleaned her chin with the back of her leather-clad wrist, gunned the engine, licked her lips, and drove the car through the mud and the slush until we were back on the highway in the dark.

The morning news.

The alarms from both of our cell phones went off at 6am, and she reached for them both with a groan and a whimper. We dozed. Later, the clock radio in the kitchen began offering us the morning's National Public Radio broadcast as we continued to snooze.

The night before had been an evening out with some of her friends. The line at Kuma's was ridiculously long, so it was beers and pub fare at Small Bar instead. I was fine with that: this bar had become virtually synonomous with visits to see Shayne, and many were the times I had thought of driving to Chicago on a whim, ordering a pint here, and texting her to invite her with me. In one past visit, she met me there in her pink 50s dress and she giggled as I gave her prezzies. During my last visit here, I nursed a few drinks as I contemplated time without her.

Last night was only slightly similar to that occasion, and everything seemed fitting.

We bade farewell to her friends. We retired to her pad. We filled the pipe and enjoyed Eddie Izzard. She collapsed. We slept.

The nights together have been cleansing, and the mornings have felt like refreshed opportunities for heart-to-hearts and mutual understanding. They've also been playful, and its been good to remember that not every discussion about the nature of what we've been to one another has to be intense.

And the mornings have given us refreshed opportunities for skin-to-skin.

While National Public Radio chattered on and echoed throughout her studio, Shayne nuzzled her bum and back close to me in the bed. She wore a Tshirt, I wore gym pants, and her pleasantly plump butt felt sensual against me as she lay in a fetal posture. Reaching around her, I idly cupped a breast as I held her tight, and she sighed under her breath and pressed closer. I dearly enjoy intimate, relaxed moments like this.

Knowing her breasts would still be sensitive from previous play and her lunations, I began squeezing her gently and tugging her tiny nipple over her Tshirt. She gasped when my nibbles began teasing her earlobe and my hand became more and more demanding in its touch. She stiffened nicely when I teased both nipples at once with my fingers and palm, and arched her bacl slowly when I began twisting one of them in a tight circle. She ground her ass firmer against me, reached behind her back, and began squeezing my cock over my pants in return.

I tugged them down. She smiled when she had free access to my hardening dick, and wrapped her exploring fingers around my thickening girth. I love it when she reaches for me and enjoys the feel and weight of me. I love it when she cups and caresses my full balls, my strong thighs, the base of my back.

Spooning, I caressed and parted her asscheeks open. She ground her head into the pillow and told me how she loved having her ass touched that way by me. I know.

I knelt up, behind and beside her. She pulled her knees closer to her chest and looked at me over her left shoulder, the sunlight just beginning to cast shafts of amber yellow through the blinds and across the bed.

Lubing my cock, I stroked myself with a wet and slick fist as I tugged the duvet down and revealed her ass to me. I squatted back on my ankles, raised my hips, and aimed glistening cockhead to her tight seam. One small adjustment and I was inside her, feeling her tightness envelop my bulb and suck me in deeper. Taking a slow, deep breath into my chest, I held on to her thigh like a railing and started what began as a slow, deep, penetrating fuck.

Stroking my cock inside Shayne's warmth, I clutched her thighs tightly and gently yanked her backward onto me. Her throaty gasps made my heart quicken, and soon I planted my fists at either side of her neck as I bent forward and fucked her harder and faster. I felt my balls slide against her thigh when she stretched her right leg downward, her left knee still high and hard against her chest. This let me tilt her hip slightly, giving me deeper access inside her tunnel, and I took advantage of it and mounted her fully with alternating strokes.

She moved onto her back, grasped my shaft, rested her ankles on my shoulders, and began using my dick as her personal playtoy. I stifled a groan and kept myself from cumming as she began jilling her proud clit with my cockhead, tugging me upward and downward between her flushed outer lips. The golden blonde pubes teased me, and her hard pearl brushed against the happy slit at the tip of my dick. I bent downward again and bit her nipples.

I pulled back and calmed myself. I've been happily helping Shayne move beyond some barricades during this visit, and I wanted to escort her through another satisfying cum of her own. She had the same idea in mind, and asked for a solid fucking with my hands.

I gladly indulged her, this shameless hussy of mine. Donning the last of the purple non-latex gloves I had given her as a clever gift long ago, I lubed my hand as she laughed and fell back onto the mound of pillows, biting her lower lip in a naughty smirk. I knelt on the floor beside the bed. In the growing sunlight, she parted her legs for me, revealing her feral, furry, and glistening mound. Her labia was red and swollen, her coral clit throbbing proudly, her giggle subtle and relaxed.

My left hand caressed her thigh as my right, gloved and eager, slid two fingers inside her depths. Twisting and stroking, I taunted her briefly before resuming the solid fucking she had been getting before with my cock. She reached for her clit, closed her eyes, and began jilling before me as my hand continued to pump and probe her warm pussy. It was all about her now, and she guided me to what strokes her sex was craving.

"That's nice, baby." "That feels do good!" "A little deeper now and a little faster..." "Curl your fingers for me, baby..." "Harder! Just like that!"

Focused on giving her a solid fucking, I held her tight against me as her hand spun circles above my thrusting wrist. I had given her so much attention that my hardness had calmed itself, though my fun continued and I enjoyed the feel of my thick softness against my own thigh.

"Baby, give me your cock to suck..."

I denied her. At this point, my focus was on finishing what I had started. "You'll suck my cock later." I was tempted to add "you slut," but I didn't. That can wait.

And there, I imagine with the thought of being on her naughty knees later in the day, my twitching fullness between her slurping lips and into her tawdry mouth, she overcame her barricades of late again and began shaking in a fluid, sensual cum. Her head pushed back into the pillows and her cloying pussy gripped my thrusting fingers as I wiggled the tips of them against her quivering G-spot. She gasped and cried out, her back arching, her voice echoing with the radio as she came in rushes, and she slowly settled into the waves of it all. My thrusts continued, gently and slowly, with the occasional tease. I smirked as she gasped aloud and giggled as I taunted her sensitivity. Smiling, I knelt back on the floor, stripped the glove from my hand, gave her a kiss, and made us some mugs of Earl Grey as the chatter on National Public Radio continued.

Breaking free.

We were enjoying a casual, sensual afterglow, the morning sun filling the studio as we idly discussed ideas for the day together. She lay nude before me as I relaxed at the foot of the bed, feeling the soft rug beneath my naked ass. The cats were sprawled and purring contentedly as she divulged to me about how challenging it had been for her lately to cum.

I smiled as I asked if she still had some of the gloves I had sent her. She had begun her moon, and I remembered from days (and nights) with Diva how a deep, resounding orgasm often helped her discomfort. Far be it from me to not be GGG enough to help a lover in need.

She smiled as she lay back and parted her legs. Shayne has allowed her feral pubes to return since I was with her last, and I enjoyed seeing her completely natural self again. Her skin glowed softly in the light, and the decadent comfort of the plush, white duvet under her naked ass only enhanced the beauty of her golden hairs weaving throughout and across her pouty mound and full, tawdry lips.

I lubed my gloved hands and began to explore her, teasing, taunting, probing. I looked up and into her eyes as I slowly fucked her with my curling and twisting fingers, enjoying the feel of her folds and her muscles as I did so. The tip of a lubed finger found its way to her winking anus, and she nodded in approval as I slipped it in. Fingers in her pussy, a finger in her womanly ass, and I escorted my sweetheart through her pleasure.

She asked for a vibe from her bathroom shelf, and when I returned with her Mini Corsair, she shuddered when she felt me stroking the walls of her G-spot with its curved tip. A finger made its way to her clit as I fucked her with her toy now and as she guided me through her desires.

At her request, later I slipped the vibe into her willing sphincter, and my fingers returned to her pussy as she enjoyed the double penetration and my kisses against her shuddering thigh.

I kept the tempo and the depth, and soon she was coming in a warm rush and a cry. It warmed my heart to bring her past her boundary of late, and she collapsed into goofy laughter as she enjoyed herself.

The cats, previously distressed by all the commotion, eagerly returned to the bed for their share of snuggles.