"I love that," declared Andrew in blissful surrender. "Ooh, but I love it when you toss me off. Throwback, I suppose, to one's childhood. When one did it oneself. And yet it's different when you do it. It's a thousand times more exciting than self-masturbation, and I'll tell you why. Because, when you jerk yourself off, you know every rub and thrust that's coming. But when you do it for me, I'm never sure of just what pressures and tempos you're going to exert. Makes it all so much more exciting."
"That's just how I feel," confessed Louise. "I love you fingering and feeling around inside my cunt. Most of all, I love you sucking at it, though when it comes to cuntsucking, give me a woman every time. They know what to do to give pleasure. A woman sucks another woman's cunt much more expertly than any man can. But it's different with masturbation. I'd rather have you toss me off than a woman, because I never quite know what's coming next, which part of my twat, lips, clitoris, or the vagina itself you're going to play with next. And it's so exciting, never quite knowing!"
"But let's not finish this one by masturbation, exciting as it is," pleaded Andrew. "There are so many more ways to fuck. When I'm with you, I want to try them all, and all at once."
"And me too, Andrew! Look, there's one way I would especially like. Let me up for a moment."
Andrew removed his fingers from the warm recesses of her twat, and Louise sat up on the bed. As she did so, her breasts filled their skin containers once more, full and abundant, so that Andrew drew in his breath in admiration.
"What utterly adorable tits you have," he murmured.
Louise cupped them, one in each hand, exposing their full nipples as she massaged them into differing poses for Andrew to admire.
"God, I'd devote an hour a day every day of my life to adoring them, if you were mine," he said.
Louise smiled. Then she twisted to lie, stomach downwards, on the bed. Turning her head on the single pillow, she said over her shoulder: "I want you to come at me from the back. When you get your prick into place, I want you not to slide it into me. Rather keep it out of the vagina, but slide it in and out of the lips of my cunt. I want you to keep it sliding, right from my asshole all the way forwards till the tip of it hits my clitoris."
Andrew bent over her and felt her buttocks part as she yielded the warmth and hairiness of her twat to his tool. It was a sump of oily slipperiness and he felt the tip of his prick disappear, as if by sheer instinct, once it found the passage of her vagina.
"No, not that, Andrew," she called. "Keep it out of the vagina. Keep it just between the lips." Andrew withdrew the lubricated tool and tried again.
Louise tightened up what amounted to an outside sphincter at the mouth of her vagina, and the massive prick slid forwards between the fleshy labia, probing ever onwards until it emerged in the V of her pubic hair. He felt the girl shudder beneath him as the length of his penis made electrifying contact with the throbbing pencil of her clitoris.
Backwards, slowly, he went again, feeling her shudder once more.
Louise inched her knees up, under him, the better to present her wet valley to his penis. As she did so, her superb tits hung, forwards and fleshy, and Andrew reached forth to cup their bounty. At his touch on her nipples, Louise groaned. She tossed back her head in ecstasy.
"Keep it like that," she urged, striving to present her sex to him and facilitate his fucking.
Andrew complied, enjoying this. The hungry lips of her cunt sought to possess the cock sliding to and fro between them. It was a quaint, piquant copulation but, thought Andrew, not much different from the sensation of an ordinary fuck. And now that he was in the groove, it was easier to prevent his tool from sliding into its appointed, natural cylinder.
And ever, as the helmet of his masculinity probed over her clitoris, he felt Louise shiver uncontrollably as the spasms of sex possessed her. Her head was thrown back proudly, its carefully-tended hair now a mass of unruly waves. He would have given anything to have seen the look on her face, thinking, as he fucked, how important it is to be able to watch one's partner's expression while screwing. But he fucked on.
And Louise was helping him all she could. She arched her bum into his hips so that its twin globes pressed into his hairs, flattening them against his belly. Then she parted her buttocks for the forward thrust of his hefty tool. And she seemed to be even expanding the massive volume of her breasts, soft and pendulous beneath his caressing, massaging hands.
And so they went at their upside-down sexual ritual until he felt the spasmodic twitching of the woman extending into the drawn-out ecstasy that is copulation's climax. Louise was tossing her head now, like some jungle beast. She arched her back into her rider's hips. She moaned and spat her obscenities into the night. She seemed to thrust her clitoris at the column of prick appearing and disappearing there in the valley of her two cunt lips. It was as if she never wanted, to relinquish it and, realizing her necessity, Andrew ceased his withdrawals, resting the red tip of his tool at the throbbing clitoris, keeping it against that rod-like erection of hers. Louise gyrated and spun in the acme of her climax, as if skewered on his tool, beating furiously into the pillows with tiny fists as she sucked out the last torment of delight from the fucking she was getting.
And Andrew, feeling her need at that moment, gave all he had. His own turn could come, later. And come it did when, utterly spent in the consumption of her climax, Louise sank on rubbery knees into the softness of the bed. Andrew let her lie until her shivering orgasm was over.
With a mighty heave, then, he drew her ass up once more to his, and reveled at the quick sight of the red, engorged, open cunt. He held her, gazing at her mesmeric twat for a moment or two. Then, roaring mutely deep down in his throat, he plunged the heft of his penis fully into its appointed place, ramming the piston into the cylinder of her sex. Ten or a dozen furious thrusts he made deep into her bowels, with Louise moaning in instinctive protest at the pain and fury of his outrageous rape-like onslaught.
And then Andrew was coming in huge spasms, drenching her vagina for the second time with his load. And the growling in his throat now became audible once more. Fiercely he gripped her to his body, demanding of her cunt that it wrap and grip his penis in its all-absorbing vagina. And still growling in orgasm, he collapsed upon his woman, sprawling his big frame across her back.
For hours, they slept as they lay, until the grey fingers of the dawn probed through the morning skies at them, and they awoke in the delicious half-light of earliest dawn.
And they smiled. And in their smile was their love and trust and friendship and their regard for one another, and their utter respect for the sex capabilities each possessed. There was thanks in their smile, and admiration and sympathy arid understanding and utter gratitude.
And, although each was randy in awakening, by tacit consent they refrained from having a final intercourse.
Silently, Andrew rose, and dressed, and tiptoed from the room, leaving Louise to that loveliest of all slumber that comes after sexual satisfaction, and after the first awakening.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
With the sun already high, the day gave early promise of oppressive heat when Louise awoke for the second time.
Luxuriously she stretched her naked body into the sheets as her mind whirled through the pleasure of the previous evening. How wonderful Andrew had been! Not in all the world such another lover, she thought. Virile, exquisite in bed, gracious and attentive in company, so utterly understanding and undemanding.