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Touch Me Again
episode: "see in"
A burn.
Revved up by three days of ocean plunges in high surf windward on Maui, voracious food runs, and many rides on top -- yet she was unable to exhaust lust. Even waking him in the night to try provided no relief. Now, a profound morning orgasm that settled nothing. She had reached a height of vivid libido -- a burn.
"Let's do it again."
"Oh my God," he said. He squinted in disbelief.
She squinted back, to bring her unchaste urges into focus and inflict them on him.
"Again? Right now?" he asked.
"Guess that last one was pretty good," she admitted.
"Your legs were shaking."
"They were?"
"Quaking."
The burn roared up. She could not tell if the fire in her pelvis was from the last, or the ignition of the next. She dropped a question on the bed like a red coal.
"What if that was just a good scream on the way up? What if I don't want to cool off? What if I want to come again? And again?"
He took the edge of the sheet and in one motion stripped it off, spilling it onto the floor. They lay naked on the bed, except for a ring each on the best fingers.
She thrilled that her carnal greed had turned him on. Oh, her man was young that way, expending just now, yet swelling hard again, ready to pounce all over her sexy invitations. The sight of his hard thing made her mind go white. Greed -- but slow, simmering greed.
"I'm in charge," she whispered.
He met her eyes, then nodded.
"I want to show you where."
Both prone on the bed, she shifted, turning so he would not have to move. In graceful slow motion she opened her legs, putting one over his hip, pulling at the knee of the other to urge it well out of the way.
"Right here," she said, lifting her bottom from the bed, rotating her pelvis in a small circle. "Here," she said, fingers on the lips. "Don't you like to see it after you just fucked me?"
It made a shock -- he froze -- she said it again, "… after you just fucked me."
She caressed the lips and folds, deliberately causing sounds by rubbing wet parts together.
"See in."
Her fingers parted the lips, slid deep and pulled open, revealing the interior.
She was sure he could see all the way to her cervix.
"Your cock, all the way in. You pounded me into this bed. Deep. I love love love that. Hard honeymoon sex in the morning."
"You're turning yourself on, the way you're talking."
"That's right," she answered. His eyes came up to find hers. With a tug of triumph, she saw he had fallen into a sexual spell. When a woman makes a man fall, it turns her shameless -- she will say things.
"I'm in love with my cunt."
"Whoa."
"I'm looking right in your eyes, talking, but really nothing matters except how much I love it, so sweet, so sweet, my fingers holding open the lips, and one of them rubbing just right --" she could not speak for a moment "... my fingers inside. And oh, the ache."
"What?"
"My hand is making it ache. It hurts so good, scary good. Like a burning ache somewhere in there. It aches so good. I'm afraid nothing can put out the fire. How did you get a girl to burn like this?"
"Show me again."
They shifted on the bed. Her leg slipped off his hip and she opened to the fullest, flat-out spread wide as a woman can get. Her left hand joined the other in between. Its fingers went in the opening as well. She moved slowly. He followed this dance with fascination. It made a catch in her heart to see him watching, to see him adoring her sex. She delicately pulled the lips apart again.
"Are you in love with it too?"
He could not speak immediately, stunned dumb by the delicate movements and flow of flesh.
Then, "Yes, I love it," he said.
"In love with it all slippery and spread open, where you just fucked me?"
"Yes."
"Tell me how my clit looks."
"It looks very happy."
She contracted her pelvis around the ache a few times. "It's lying in its little nest, like a pink pearl," he said.
She moved the forefinger of each hand to fit at the sides of the nest, used them to urge the pearl up and away, a girl-way of getting more erect. She did this for seconds, hissing and cooing while he watched. Occasionally she pulled the surrounding flesh away and down, while two other fingers kept the opening parted.
"That makes it really stand out," he reported. "It's beautiful."
"So beautiful you fall in love."
He nodded.
"Every time you thrust in, it pulls on my clit. I love that. And sometimes when the angle is right, you rub it and bang it a certain way, it drives me right up the fucking wall."
"Let me in now."
"By morning the groom was thoroughly shocked how rude the bride liked it. But she was still sweet, too."
"Let me in now."
Her fingers were still inside. She slipped them out, but folded the lips back against the mound with their fingertips, exposing the pink underside, making a display.
"Put your cock right here," she said, "but not in."
He came above and pressed the shaft against the open lips.
"Now your cock can fall in love with it," she said, engaging his eyes with her unbashful ones. "Slide it up and down. I'll make it all wet." Her fingers held open the sensitive folds perfectly for the rubbing to provoke the arousal, make it bloom. Thrilling how deep the ache reached, which told how strong the next orgasm would be -- deep in her ass, her back, her pelvis. Even in her belly. All alive with sweet warm pleasure-pain, waiting to come.
"Put it in," she said, releasing her hands, bringing her arms up to circle his neck.
And then the penetration. It filled so full, pushed her insides around. She whispered in his ear, "Right in my fucking cunt."
She brought her legs nearly together, instructing him to put his knees outside hers.
"Come up high," she said. He inched up on the bed, forcing his cock deep, sliding his hips up on hers. She adjusted beneath him.
"Don't pound me, this time. Use your weight, don't be afraid, don't pound, just rub me good."
He began a rhythm, slowly.
Oh, his willingness to try this different way. He has to feel that -- the hard pubic bone pushing against the splayed lips, against the little nest, against the button that feeds the ache. Squash me. Rub me and squash me. Hurt it.
"Can you feel the lips?" she whispered.
He nodded.
"This way is for them, rub them, rub my clit. Do me good."
He took it up instantly. She helped direct through moans and urgings. His cock would slip out halfway, then slide in strong. His weight and this position high astride her hips forced the penetration deep. He didn't pull out at the end of each sinking, but rather rotated his hips, making the base of the shaft and his hard mound inflame her sex.
The ache grew enormous. She felt it ignite her core even more. Fire inched up her spine. They lasted long, enduring the excruciatingly slow ascent. They laughed together, seeing how high up they were. She had to say her self-love again -- no mercy from lust that burns.
"I love my cunt," she whispered.
"I feel like I'm in up to my waist," he said, then resumed grunting with each entry.
"I take you in. I love it so, like no woman ..." She went silent to let several sinkings penetrate fully to her cervix and rage on the swollen lips. With each, her back arched off the bed to meet him, her organs raw.
Then, three more slow massive strokes, and she cried out --
"OhFuck OhFuck OhFuck."
She recognized the point of no return, but it passed so slowly, not like the usual bullet followed by the crash. Instead -- a calm, wide lake, warm and welcoming, exquisite. With each stoke of her lover she surged through the water, sailing away, with music of liquids streaming past her body, and a warm rain.
The nexus of the ache spread through her pelvis, up into her chest, into her very breath. It ceased to torment, instead filling her heart with searing goodness.
Then it was in her throat. She screamed.
The water itself melted, and she with it.
All burning, all aching, drowned.
© John Kirnan 2003-2024
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They lasted long, enduring the excruciatingly slow ascent. They laughed, seeing how high up they were. No mercy from the ache that burns. She whispered her astonished truth...
"I love my body."
She went silent to deliberately let three smooth thrusts penetrate fully. Her back arched off the bed to meet them, organs raw, exposed.
She recognized the point of no return, but it passed so slowly, not like the usual bullet followed by the crash. Instead -- a calm, wide lake, warm and welcoming, exquisite. With each stoke of her lover, she surged through the water with music of liquids streaming past, and a warm rain. The ache spread through her pelvis, up into her chest, into her very breath. It ceased to torment, instead filling her heart with searing goodness.
Then it was in her throat. She screamed. The water itself melted, and she with it. All burning, all aching, drowned.