“I don't know. But why don't you, Terry?”
“I don't want to leave you, ever!” I said, holding her very tight.
“You need some sleep.”
“I can sleep on you.”
“You know what'll happen if you sleep here. In five minutes we'll be fucking again.”
“So? What's wrong with fucking?”
“It's beautiful, the way you do it. But I need a rest. I'm sore. You must be, too, after all you did last night.”
“I'm not sore,” I said, and pulled a leg back to let her see my unbruised, semi-roused and gamy cock.
“You will be, if we go at it again so soon. Now go to bed. Please.”
I kissed her goodbye as though we'd never see one another again, sheepishly left her bed, went to my own, fell face down on it and went immediately to sleep.
A few hours later Sandy woke me up by slapping my bare ass vigorously with both hands. It hurt at first, but once I was awake and aware that it was she doing the slapping I felt a surge of excitement ripple through my loins.
“Come on, get up, Terry, it's time for breakfast.”
“I'd rather lie here and have you spank me,” I said. “It feels good.”
I looked up at her. She was obviously enjoying it as much as I was. She was half-naked, having put on a pair of short-shorts, but still topless so that her breasts jiggled and bounced as she beat me.
“Can't you hit any harder than that?” I said.
She complied. “You must be some kind of a masochist,” she said.
“What's a masochist?'
“That's a guy who gets a hard-on when people kick him around, especially girl people.”
“That's me, all right. What was that word again? Massachrist?”
“Massachusetts. Get up now.” She ended the spanking with a flourish. “Come on.”
“No.”
She bent over and slipped out a thick, black leather belt from the loops of a pair of my pants, dangling it between my buttocks.
“Are you going to get up, or am I going to whip you?” she hissed.
“You're going to whip me, I guess, because I'm not getting up.”
She raised the belt and lashed it across the rosy cheeks of my ass. I squealed with sharp, excruciating pleasure and felt my cock stiffen even harder. She raised it again and whacked me again, then moved her lashing strokes up my back and down again to the backs of my thighs.
I looked up into her eyes. They glowed with a fierce delight at the pain she was inflicting and the-pleasure she was providing. When she returned my gaze for a moment and saw how delirious with excitement I was, another gleam came into her eyes and she grabbed the leather end of the belt, dangling the heavy buckle between my legs.
“You like that, huh?” she said.
“Yeah.”
“See how this feels.”
She raised the buckle and let it fly down into the meat of my ass. It hurt. I squealed and jumped up, wresting the belt from her and enclosing her in a bear hug from behind. With my hands I wrapped the belt around her waist, enclosing her arms in it, and wrenched it tight, pulling it far enough to close the belt around her. It pulled her arms and shoulders back as far as they could go, severely cinching her waist and making her breasts stick out so blatantly I wanted to eat them.
I pushed her onto the bed, and straddling her helpless body, drunk in the sight of her. Then I lowered my mouth to her squirming breasts and bit.
She squealed and struggled, trying to wiggle free, but I held her down easily and proceeded to suck and bite her breasts savagely. The harder I bit her nipples, the harder and hotter they became.
She was screaming and squealing and finally I relented and began to lick. She moaned. I rose to my knees over her. A large, blood-sucked bruise surrounded her left nipple; above and below the bruise were distinct teeth marks.
“You must be a sadist,” she said.
“What's that?”
“That's a guy who gets a hard-on from trying to bite off girls' nipples.”
“That's me, all right,” I said, sliding up along her body and pushing the evidence of my sadism toward her face until the head brushed against her lips. She licked all the way up and down the length of it and then rose up slightly to suck it into her mouth.
Then she bit.
I screamed and pulled out of her, rolling over to sit on the edge of the bed and examine any possible damage. Still laughing, she rolled over too and sat alongside me.
“You hurt it,” I said. “It doesn't like to be bitten.”
“Ah, the poor thing,” she said, bending over to kiss it.
“I guess it's okay,” I said. “You'd have been cutting off your nose to spite your face if you'd have bitten it off.”
“My what?”
“I don't know.”
“Get me out of this damn belt,” she said. “Let's go eat some breakfast.”
“You had your chance for breakfast and you nipped it in the bud.”
“Come on, Terry, for Christ's sake.”
I unbuckled her, slipped on a pair of white-shorts without bothering to put on a shirt or shoes and watched Sandy wiggle herself into one of my tee shirts. It hugged her torso like spray paint and through the well-worn cotton I could make out not only her nipples, but the teeth marks and the bruise I had sucked into her.
We went downstairs for breakfast and when that was over and Sandy had cleaned up for Grandma we walked outside and headed for the woods again.
We took off all our clothes and left them at the same spot we had the day before, wading down into the chill water of the stream and then, when we reached the deep water, taking a long, languid swim among the trout, the guppies and the water lilies.
We crawled up onto our moss-covered rock and stretched out to dry our bodies in the sun and against each other. The warmth of the sun's rays and the heat of Sandy's body began to excite me, but when I pressed myself against her she suggested we go deeper into the forest.
Holding hands, we walked on into deeper reaches than we had ever explored before. The pines and oaks gave way to maples and birches. The birds were different, too. Instead of the black-eared bush-tits and red-shafted flickers there circled around us and alit singing before us all kinds of other birds-scissor-tailed flycatchers, thick-billed kingbirds, horned larks, red-breasted nuthatches, skylarks, catbirds, bluethroats, white wagtails, painted redstarts, scarlet tanagers, indigo buntings, hoary redpolls, white-collared seedeaters and all manner of birds I'd never even seen before. The forest floor was carpeted for our naked feet with soft, lush wildflowers like agrimony, wild beans, bastard toadflax, bed-straw, bee-balm, black snakeroot, wild bleeding heart, blue cohash, brooklime, bunchberry, climbing fumitory, watercress, buttercups, foam-flowers, hemlock, hemp, honeysuckle, hog-peanuts, goldenrod, snapdragons, wormwood, wild ginger, wild carrots, water-willows, wild cucumbers.
We stopped at a spring surrounded with milkweeds and we lay down to drink from it. A small clearing several feet away was overgrown with tall, green grass, and we rolled over toward this natural bed.
Sandy lay on her belly and I kissed her ass, darting my tongue upward and exploring an orifice that all of a sudden began to arouse my curiosity. Each time the tongue went in she spread her legs a little further and I could feel them quivering with pleasure.
I planted a trail of kisses up her spine and wound up sucking on her ear. I lay on her back and by now my stiff cock was resting between her buttocks.
“Are you still sore?” I whispered.
“Yes,” she said.
“Maybe we can do it some other way.”
“What do you mean?”
“Maybe we can do it backwards. Some of the guys at school talk about that all the time.”
“What do you mean, backwards?” she asked.
“You know, you just lie there the way you are and I'll… we'll… proceed from there.”
“In other words,” she said, “you want to fuck me in the ass?”
“Yeah, I guess that's the term.”
“That sounds terrific, Terry.” She spread her legs even more and wiggled her ass against me. I didn't need any more prodding. I had to have her at once. I massaged her soft, resilient, pink buttocks and began inserting one finger, then two into her asshole until I felt confident to take the plunge myself. I did so, spreading her cheeks with one hand and guiding myself with the other until I had managed to squeeze in the head.