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Jane Nineteen
episode: "helpless with joy"
They ran out of topics. Jane stood and swayed away about ten feet. A fine breeze came up and disturbed her hair, and the dress pressed against her hip. Her calm happiness prevailed, but threading through – a subtle restlessness, a delicious ache teasing to be noticed. She kept her body turned half-away from him.
The ache grew. She could not disguise it. She turned to face him, eye to eye, to show it. A beat of time – she turned and ran for her life. Her head-start was just enough to reach the bathtub ahead. She dove in with a squeal of shock and delight. Only two seconds to thrill to the perfect temperature – his arm shot under and around her waist to take her weight fully in control and lift her bodily out and into his grasp, limbs flailing away. She unleashed her favorite screaming.
“No no no no no no no.”
This time her dress did not survive. He ripped the drenched thing off her body and threw it aside. He spun her and pushed her shiny-wet torso into the grass alongside the bath. One shin pinned her down at her low back. He yanked her legs one at a time into bent position, folding knees up and under, which raised her bottom high in the air.
“I am not an animal,” she sobbed.
“We both are.”
The sound of his belt coming loose caused a jolt in her gut. She flailed one arm behind to fend off – he grabbed the wrist and shoved it to the earth.
He removed his leg from her back, swiveled behind, and forced her thighs apart.
The cock drove deep.
“Na yi yi yi oh fucking no no no.”
Feet flat on the ground between her knees, crouching to stay well-aimed, he found his stroke. Nothing impeded it. He tangled his left hand in her wet hair and pulled back, slid the other hand around her neck.
With strong hands controlling her head and an erect phallus slamming home like the piston of an engine – pinned down and taken – delicious fright rose like a demon in her belly.
“Whorooh …” her terror rushed out, so not to believe it fully.
Her knees ground into the grass. His hands keep her head bent back, his strength forced her breasts against the earth. The relentless strokes accelerated.
Jane shifted hips with each thrust. Not to avoid – to make the splendid rod touch her pleasure best. She wiggled into it.
“Greedy,” he grunted.
“Fuck me fuck me fuck me. Right there. There. There.”
“Greedy.”
Within ten stokes their bodies reached unity, slicked in juices, thrusting, squeezing, grunting as breaths exploded out.
He stopped. “Use your hands. Pull open.”
Jane obeyed. Each hand came from under and reached behind to rest on the mounds. Fingers slipped into place. One from each hand curled along the outer lips. In one graceful flow, her left leg slid to the side with his thigh pushing it, her back arched another inch of angle, and the fingers pulled the glistening sex wide.
The rod thrust hard. It rippled through vagina with the sound of mud sucking wet.
“Oh hrummm...” she grunted, and then a huge breath ... “Fuck!”
He pulled out. Penetrated again.
“Fuck!” Her fingers stayed at the rim to feel the rush of flesh pounding her time after time after time. She grunted the air out of her body with each.
“Hunh. Hunh. Fuck. Hunh. Hunh.”
He stayed in a crouch, removed hands from her hair and neck, and straightened upright from the waist. Leverage came from strong legs pushing off the earth. His thrusts accelerated. He began to yell, “Yi. Yi. Yi.” Louder with each, the closer to his ride-home he rode.
With penetrations deep to touch cervix, Jane lusted to have cock break into womb. And more. All into her melted body, all past her belly, up between her breasts, yes, to have the fucking thing slam into her heart.
“Ya. Ya. Ya. Ya,” he shouted. His arms rose with each shout, reaching up, up.
Jane prayed he would thrust into the sky a million times, with a woman’s vagina to catch it. She seemed transparent, so perfectly did her body take him in. His final brutal penetrations went home. He bellowed.
“Oh. Yes. Oh. Ha. Ha ...” then screamed to bursting ... “Ha!”
She swiveled below, subtly, to get the spurting all around inside – his third spurting in four hours of this wild day. Some clenching told of her own quiet explosion. It filled her pelvis with hot radiance. She did not cry out to let him know about that.
He yanked himself out to stand proud. Wet glistened on the triumphant organ. Looking out to the horizon, he froze as if in victory over a great beast. Then he seemed to notice a woman melted around his legs. He picked her up and settled her into the bathtub. Grass and dirt flushed away from her body into the water.
He strolled away, naked, to check on his horse.
Jane clung to the side of the tub to keep from slipping under the water, helpless with joy.
© John Kirnan 2003-2024
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“Ride down slow,” he said.
It was beautiful to watch. Her skin glowed. The scent of female after-sex filled the room like earth perfume. She sighed. Sometimes she giggled. Sometimes she looked in his eyes – with a smile all happy women have known. Then her arms and legs flopped on the bed, helpless with lovely sated breath and body.
He stirred and edged up next to her on one elbow. In her creamy dream, she did not notice. Then, the press of his organ on her thigh ...
“Oh.”
“Yes.”
She did not laugh, knowing the next thing would be drama. She willed it so in her heart. Slowly, with grim erotic intent, she spread herself open on the bed. Achingly slow. An act of unmitigated sex-love, woman opening to man. She held his eyes, beckoning.
He moved carefully into place. Her arms folded around his neck. He lowered himself. She caught the scent of her sex on his mouth. As the first thrust slipped into her body, she kissed his lips and wrapped her legs around her mate.