I never knew her real name, so I call her June after the month I first met her.
It was a hot month, hot enough to be August, and I was working at The Lake, repairing the dock. When the heat got to be too much, I tossed some beer on the raft and poled out the quarter mile to the rock I call “The Island.” It’s so small that no one bothers with it, so I enjoy going there for the quiet.
I tied the raft to one of the ring of bushes that grows in the thin soil at waters edge, got out of my clothes and into the water. A few refreshing minutes later, I climbed back out, grabbed the beer and a beach towel, and went up on the rock. I set my stuff down in the shade of the island’s one tree, and drank a can. Secure in the privacy of my little spot, I dozed off.
Shortly, something woke me, and I opened my eyes. I blinked hard, thinking I was still dreaming; for there stood the most magnificent looking woman I had ever seen, quite as naked as I, and apparently totally unconcerned about it. She was blue-eyed and dark blonde, stood about five-seven, slender and with firm muscles. Her waist was small, almost tiny, with well-rounded hips below a firm flat stomach. Her breasts were, well, perfect. Neither large nor small, firm rounded cones crowned with dark pink jewels just made to kiss.
She was smiling, and looking at me very openly and frankly. Then she said, in a soft voice with just a hint of some kind of accent, “You are very beautiful.”
Now. I’m not ugly, I admit, but nobody would mistake me for a movie star, and absolutely no one had ever accused me of being beautiful before! And to hear those words coming out of such a face and figure as hers! I’d like to tell you I replied with something clever, but I was just thunderstruck.
“May I join you?” she asked, seating herself on the beach towel facing me.
“Of course.” I replied. “Would you like a beer?”
“Thank you,” she said, nodding.
I opened two cans and passed her one. A few moments passed sipping the beer, while I tried to regain my wits.
I was getting an erection despite the embarrassment and despite trying not to.
“Oh! You like my body,” she said, smiling again, “It is all right. I like yours, too. You have a very nice one.”
This last she said looking squarely at my by now throbbing manhood.
She sipped again from the beer, then leaned forward and left a quick, brushing kiss on my left nipple. Her lips were still cool and moist from the drink, and the sensation brought shudders up and down my spine. I reached out to take her head in my hands to kiss her, but she was up and on her feet in one quick, graceful movement.
“I must go now,” she said with that smile, and with just a hint of a wiggle of her round, dimpled ass, was off toward the lake side of the Island.
“Wait!” I called. “What’s your name? Where are you staying?”
I ran after her, only to see her climb into a kayak, and paddle off. About a hundred feet out she turned and blew me a kiss. I stood like an idiot and watched the kayak until it passed round a point and disappeared.
I went to the store, the deli, the gas station, anywhere a person might go, but no one had seen anyone like that.
The man at the deli winked at me and said “Ja, sure I vatch for dis Blonde of yours. I find out for you.”
But a week went by, and for all my detective work, it was as though I had dreamed her. And dream of her I did!
Then one late afternoon, I walked out on the dock, and I saw a light on the Island, like a small fire winking in the light breeze. I was on the raft and poling in a flash.
I arrived at the Island, tied up, and almost ran up the rock. She was there, adding twigs and dry grass to a tiny fire. I saw how cleverly the fire had been built in a hollow of the rock. It could only have been seen from my direction.
She was wearing a loose checkered shirt and shorts, and looked as magnificent as she had that other afternoon.
“Hello,” I said. “I’ve been looking for you.”
“I know. Come sit with me.”
She patted a space on the rock, and pointed behind her. “I brought some things. I can stay longer this time.”
I looked where she had pointed, and saw a blanket spread on the sun-warmed stone, a picnic basket, a bottle of wine and two glasses standing in the shade.
We sat close to each other and talked for a while, though each time I tried to ask about her – her name, where she was staying – she would change the subject.
At last she smiled her special smile and said, “All these questions! Come, let us eat and drink.”
With that, she got up with her quick, graceful fluid motion and walked to the blanket. Here she opened the basket and produced a load of bite-size fried things like tempura. I opened my mouth to say something, and laughing, she popped one in.
I joined the fun and stuffed one in her mouth.
She handed me the wine bottle and corkscrew.
It was one of my favorites. I opened the bottle and ceremoniously poured. She touched glasses and murmured, “To us, and to now.”
I sat with my back against the tree, and she slid over and leaned her back against my raised knees, half facing me. She pulled the basket closer, and took another item and put it to my mouth. I half took it and leaned forward to offer her a share. She leaned up and bit the offered piece. Our lips met, and lingered a moment before she drew back and chewed.
She lifted her hand to my face and drew the outline of my mouth. I seized her little fingers with my lips and eagerly kissed and sucked them.
With her free hand she began to draw little circles around my nipples and to trace the outline of my ribs. Even through the material of my tee-shirt the sensation was delightful!
I reached for her chin and drew her to me. This time she didn’t draw away, but brought her face to mine with softly parted lips.
I traced her lips with my tongue, then gently explored her mouth. It tasted cool and sweet. Then her tongue found its way into my mouth. I sucked it ever so gently, and she moaned softly.
My left hand played with her soft, long hair and with her ears, and stroked her back, and eventually found its way to her right breast. The soft cotton of her shirt did little to hide the firm, yet yielding texture of that delightful handful. She began to hum again.
I found and opened the top buttons of her shirt, and slowly began to trace a line down from her neck with my fingers. She took my hand in hers and pressed it firmly under her shirt.
I can’t describe the texture of her skin – the most incredibly delightful feeling. I gently cupped the object of my attention in my hand, kneading it, then squeezed and stroked the jewel that crowned it.
While I was busy with that, her deft hands had pulled my tee-shirt up under my arms and were stroking my chest and back bringing me goose-flesh and chills.
When finally we parted from the long kiss, we were both pumping air like just-surfaced divers.
I made to pull my tee-shirt off, but she cried, “Wait! Let me,” so I stopped.
Ever so slowly and gently, she pulled it off my arms and over my head, in the process planting wet kisses on my chest and neck.
She smiled that smile of hers, and I knew it was an invitation. So with equal slowness I undid the remaining buttons of her shirt, and very deliberately exposed her twin delights.
I lightly kissed the tip of each in turn, then slowly drew the shirt off her shoulders.
She put her arms around my neck and drew us together until her breasts were brushing my chest, then slowly drew them back and forth against me while I kissed her neck and ears.
Then I kissed my way down her chest to the valley between her perfections, and worked my way up to her now firm nipples. These I gently sucked, licked and pulled with my lips, watching them pucker and strain to grow ever more.
She was moaning softly again.
Then she undid my belt buckle, and popped the snap of my jeans. Ever so slowly she pulled down the zipper, her fingers tracing lightly across my confined manhood.
I could hardly contain my eagerness, but somehow I equaled her deliberateness in undoing her shorts. Half seated as we were, the garments would not come off, though, so laughing, I got up and removed the remaining clothes from my body, and she hers.
“So,” she said, “we are as we were when we met.”
The sword of my manhood was standing in full salute to her beauty, standing an arms length away, examining me with that frank, open gaze I had first seen that other afternoon.
This time it was I who murmured, “You are beautiful!”
“It is very exciting to see how your body likes mine,” she breathed, and stepped toward me with her sensuous lips slightly parted, her face lifted for a kiss.
I drew her to me, and lightly brushed her lips with mine. The tips of her perfect breasts touched my chest, and my spear was brushing the inside of her thighs. She put her arms around my waist and began to brush my back with the tips of her fingers.
Gradually the pressure of our kiss increased until our bodies were pressed together, and our tongues working feverishly at each other. Her hands grasped my buns and squeezed hard, crushing me against her body.
When we parted, we were gasping for air once more, our inner furnaces in flames. I licked and kissed my way down her neck, pausing to nibble her ear. I continued down her chest, and, cupping her delightful breasts in my hands, squeezed them together until I could lick both nipples at once.
Then, keeping a hold of those wonderful globes, I kissed my way down to her navel. Truly the jewel so highly prized in Arabian writing, I thrust my tongue into it, and sucked it gently. She worked her fingers through my hair and shivered lightly.
With my face pressed against her belly, I became intensely aware of the extremely erotic personal perfume of her arousal. It was intoxicating, and my fires rose to a fever pitch.
I kissed my way down the softly rounded mound of her belly toward its source, sliding my hands down her waist and hips and around to the delightfully rounded cheeks behind.
I nibbled and kissed at her thighs, her belly, and pulled at the curly fur of her love nest with my lips. So soft! I blew a gentle stream of air at her down, and she shivered once more, humming a low moaning sound almost like a purr.
I looked up at her, and the light of the setting sun had turned her skin a golden color. She looked like a bronze statue of a goddess, perhaps Diana the Huntress, but alive, her chest rising and falling with her excited breaths.
We sank down so that we were kneeling before each other, and we kissed once more, melting together as though we could become one body through our joined mouths.
Her exploring fingers found their way to my throbbing stiffness, and her other hand cupped under my balls. She gently played with me, touching, stroking and squeezing, her fingers tracing around the crown, teasing out a “teardrop.”
This she wiped from its “eye” with her fingertip, then carrying it to her lips, licked it away.
Then, holding each other closely, we sank down on the blanket. She continued her playful teasing, while covering my chest and belly with kisses, tickling me with her loose hair falling over me.
I turned my attention back to kissing and teasing her belly. Her back arched and her body pulsed with my attentions. Finally, with a small cry, her hands grasped my head and drew it between her parted thighs. I buried my face in the musk of her, the soft parting folds of her. I explored her with my lips, probed her with my tongue. I found the petals of the rose of her, and drew them into my mouth. I discovered the bud of the rose hiding in its little nest and kissed it, drawing it forth, covering it and circling it with my tongue. Her back arched and writhed, little cries bursting from her mouth. I drank of the nectar of the gods.
I paused a moment to look at her. Her skin seemed to be glowing, her beauty enriched. Then she drew up and looked in my eyes with that special smile. Her face was framed against the soft colors of the summer sunset. Would that I were a painter to capture that moment on canvas!
She drew my spear up in her hand then, and with purposeful slowness, placed a kiss on the point of it. She drew her tongue along its length, around the circle of its crown. She lingered to probe its one blind eye with the tip of her tongue, and then I was engulfed. I felt the cool of the evening breeze alternate with the warmth of her mouth. I became her ice cream cone, her toy. Several times I was brought to the brink, but she skillfully avoided my eruption. Despite the warmth of the evening I was shivering uncontrollably.
When I thought I could stand no more, she drew away, and lying full length over my body, covering my face with kisses, she whispered, “I want you inside me!”
“Oh, yes?” I asked, playfully.
“I want you deep in my body,” she continued, “I want to be filled with you.”
As she whispered, almost breathed this last, she moved up over me, straddling me like a horseback rider. Guiding my weapon with her hand, she rubbed it gently against the moist entrance to her tunnel of love. Then she slowly impaled herself, taking first just the head of my weapon, withdrawing slightly, then driving in an inch, withdrawing again, and so on in an inexorable slow plunge until my proud sword had disappeared.
Meanwhile, my hands, almost of their own volition, slid up her body, measuring her thin waist, counting her ribs, then up to embrace her twin cones of delight, and rolled the berries crowning them between thumb and forefinger. She slowly arched her back, pressing her breasts against my hands and deepening my intrusion into her body.
So we stayed for a long minute, coupled, not moving, letting our bodies savor each other. Then my sword, sheathed in the warmth of her scabbard, pulsed involuntarily.
“Mmm,” she murmured. “That was nice! Do it again?”
I contracted my muscles so that my weapon jumped again within her, and her body answered, squeezing my lance within her.
“Uuhh. Can YOU do that again?”
She did. Then she smiled, and began slow rhythmic contractions, moving on me all inside, without any outward movement. Never had I felt anything like this before. My steel-hard instrument began to pulse in response, increasing the internal motion.
I raised my head and replaced my hand with my lips on the hard raisin of her right nipple.
“Ohhh,” she sighed, “I like when you do that.”
My hands went to her hips, where they guided her in a gentle thrusting while my mouth was busy kissing and sucking at the roseate haloed glories which she offered me in alternation.
Then she leaned forward, and kissed my mouth, her tongue entering me in mimicry of the sword within her. She slowly moved her tongue in and out. I received it eagerly.
Holding me clenched tightly within her, she extended her legs, one at a time, so she was lying full upon me. She brought her legs together, clasping me within, and pumped her hips gently.
Holding her tightly with my arms, I rolled over so that she was now beneath me.
Her hands began a dance on my back, and her feet slid behind my knees. I withdrew my weapon almost completely from her, and slowly teased at the entrance with slow, short thrusts.
“Mmmm, mmmm, ooooo,” she murmured.
Then I plunged deeply, burying myself.
I repeated, setting up a three – one rhythm. I began to nibble and lick her earlobe.
“Uh… More… Ohhh…” she panted. My own breath was labored.
Not wanting to bring myself to culmination yet, I paused, and as I did so, she drew her knees up beside my ribs. I drew her legs around till her calves were resting on my shoulders, then resumed. My plunges, aided by the new position, were probing new depths.
“Ooo… mmm… mmm… MMMM… OH!.. OHHHHHHHHHHHH”
Her hands and feet began to flutter. Her belly contracting, her love tunnel became a furnace, heaving and convulsing. I pressed in deeply, mashing by pubic bone against her lovebud, the point of my spear throbbing deep within her.
“NNNNNNG!.. MMMMMMM!.. OHHHhhhh!.. Oh!.. Ooh!.. H!.. H!”
The depth of her orgasm was incredibly exciting. Her skin became radiant, almost glowing. Her eyes glazed. Her nipples erected so far they seemed to burst. Watching her, I was ready to trigger.
“Ohhh… Please… MMMMM… You too”, she panted.
“No. Not (mmm) yet. I want (ahh) you to have (mm) another.”
A few moments of inactivity.
Calmer. My internal fires subsiding slightly, I lifted one of her legs over my head, and turned her. Still coupled, we maneuvered so that she was kneeling before me, her magnificent buttocks raised toward me. I reached around and under her, one hand cupping a breast, the other finding her love button and gently stroking it. I renewed my rhythmic thrusts, which she answered by rocking back onto me.
One of her hands found the sac of my scrotum and began caressing my balls, gently squeezing them, her fingers stroking them.
I brought my hands to her back, scratching it gently. Then I moved them down, my fingers tracing her spine down to the valley between the dimpled globes of her rump, then to feel and squeeze the flesh of them.
I watched, fascinated, how our organs fit together. How her flesh wrapped around me, clinging to me on withdrawal as though reluctant to let go, then turning inward again. The sight was too much to bear.
My thumb strayed to caress and stroke the soft purplish pucker of her postern gate. It was wet with the overflow of her passion. I played with it, my fingers dancing lightly. She squirmed and moaned again, driving back onto me.
“Yes!.. Ohhh… MMmmm”
A red fire began somewhere in the small of my back, coursing down the nerve channels, striking my balls afire. Vaguely, through the hot red flush overtaking me, I knew she was cumming again.
“OOHHHHH!” she said.
“Gah! Nng!.. Ohhh!” I replied.
Again and again my cannons fired. I felt it would never stop. I was transported. There was no island, no world, there were only the two of us, sharing a rapture eternal.
Gently, and still coupled, we sank together onto the blanket, both face down, breathing as though the air had gone elsewhere, leaving us in vacuum.
When breath returned, I kissed the nape of her neck, her ear.
“Mmmm, don’t stop.”
“Not for a hundred years or so!”
She pressed her legs together, trapping my softening member within her.
“I didn’t think it could be like that, first time,” she whispered, almost to herself. “It’s supposed to take practice, getting to know each other.”
“That’s what they say,” I replied. “Perhaps there still is Magic in the world.”
I kissed her shoulder. She giggled slightly.
“That’s not fair. I can’t kiss you, lying this way. But if we move, you will slip out, and I still want you inside me.”
“Then be still and let me kiss you.”
“But I can’t see you either.”
“It’s getting dark, anyway.”
“The moon has risen. It is nearly full tonight. It will be bright enough to see. Ah. See what your moving about has done. You have fallen out anyway. Let me turn over.”
I let her.
She took my face in her hands and kissed me. I was holding myself up on my elbows, not to crush her, but she put her arms around me and hugged me hard.
She reached out and pulled the basket closer.
“I’m hungry, are you?”
“Yes, and thirsty. Where’s the wine?”
We ate and drank, lounging closely together. I could not keep my hands from her body. Her breasts tantalized and drew me to them. She did not object, in fact enjoyed the attention.
I wondered how we could be so easily at home with each other, our first time together, and hardly knowing a thing about each other. I was astounded how it didn’t seem to matter at all. I was content to be with her, to touch her delightful skin, to hear her voice, and just to be in her presence.
“I am filled with you.” she said, after a while. “You are dripping from me, and making a mess! Do you always make so much?”
“No,” I laughed. “You have drained me completely. An empty shell sits before you.”
“Oh, no. That would be a shame. The night is so young…”
“Yes, ‘and you are so beautiful.’ Don’t fret, I’ll recharge!”
“Let’s wash off in the lake.” She sprang up and started for the water.
“Hey. We just ate. Come over here, there’s a shallow place.”
We splashed and played in the water like children, until the cold numbed our toes, and we walked back up onto the warm stone, drying in the light breeze.
“Have you ‘recharged’ yet?” she smiled, eyeing my still-limp manhood.
“Doesn’t look that way. I told you I was empty.”
“Well. Let’s see about that.”
She took my soft stub in her hand, and began to play, rolling it, kneading it. The fires began to stir again in my belly. She tickled it with her damp hair, drawing the strands across its knob.
Then suddenly, she pounced upon it with her mouth, its softness disappearing completely. She drew on it, pulling it, stretching it, pulling her head back. This time it was I who moaned. Slowly at first, then more rapidly, it responded to her attention. She continued to attend to it.
I reached my hand to her round rump and played there, gently touching the folded softness, stroking the insides of her thighs, lightly stroking the wide valley between her buttocks, lightly pinching the well-muscled globes.
“Let me return the favor,” I whispered, tugging at her.
“Mmm, of course.” She moved over me, bringing her musk to my nostrils, and once again I felt my fires heat to it. I drew her down to me. I reached up with my tongue, searching, exploring. I nibbled at the opening folds, probed at the tunnel they uncovered.
She resumed her activity, working subtle magic on my now stiff member with her lips and tongue.
I teased at her little bud with the tip of my tongue, then circled it with my lips and sucked at it. Then, flat-tongued, I stroked it. Each stroke and tease brought forth a little shivering sigh.
My tongue explored further, finding her other, more puckered opening, and probed at its soft tightness. I kissed and sucked at it. When at last the gate opened slightly to admit my wet tongue, a gasp of delight escaped her lips.
As my tongue traveled from one delight to the other in the valley of love, she began to make soft, musical sounds in her throat.
She was not idle, either. Taking first one of my balls into her mouth and gently sucking it, then the other, then returning her attention to my shaft. Then she did a most remarkable thing: with her teeth she ever so gently began to gnaw on my shaft head. The sensation was incredible! My frenzied heat rose.
“Mmngmum,” I moaned into the folds of her flesh.
I worked at her feverishly with my mouth, trying to pleasure her everywhere at once. Then I brought my fingers into play. Carefully wetting two fingers, I squirmed one into each aperture, burying them to the second knuckle, while using my mouth and tongue on her button.
“UmmmMMMmm,” she cried, her lips around my spear.
She carefully wet a finger of her own and probed into my rear, gnawing at me all the while.
We both began to moan and hum, the vibrations adding to the stimulation. The fires were rising again, and I felt the flood beginning. She pressed the fingers of her free hand up under my sac, stemming the tide. I felt the explosion turn inward, blasting my senses again and again. It seemed my skull would explode!
At last her body quivered and shook and with a small muffled cry, she released the dam, and working my spear with both hands, her lips tight around the corona, she sucked at my reservoirs, swallowing all I produced eagerly.
My fingers were clamped tightly in her body by the spasms that shook her. Her musky wetness covered my face. Her button danced on my tongue.
Once again we had reached the pinnacle together, and I was transported not only by my own pleasure, but by hers as well.
When at last she released the grip she held on my fingers and my spear, leaving a last kiss on her love-bud, I slid myself around to face her, and lying on our sides, we held each other tightly and kissed, our bodies still trembling.
“See, she whispered, half into my parted lips, “You were not empty after all. And now you will be part of me forever.”
“And you of me,” I replied, sucking my fingers.
“We seem already part of each other,” she said. “I still can’t believe it’s our first time together! It seems almost that we have been together before, often, long ago, and are at last rejoined.” She laughed then and said, “Perhaps you are Apollo and I am Aphrodite.”
“You are at least as beautiful,” I replied, my hand cupping her delicate breast once more.
“Give me some wine, Apollo”
I reached around and poured a glass, and on impulse, filled my mouth with it, then kissing her, shared it with her.
“What a sensual creature you are! And how my body reacts to you!” she murmured.
“I was about to say that to you. But who are you?”
She smiled again, and with a quiet, serious look, replied, “Aphrodite. Here, have some wine.”
Taking the glass from my fingers, she drained it, then covering my mouth with hers, shared the wine.
“Tell me what you like.” I suggested.
“Oh, the trees, the lake, your body, this island, moonlight, touching you, you touching me…”
“Yes. But I mean, what sort of things might you want me to do? What pleasure can I give you? Something perhaps that you’ve dreamed?”
“Oh. But you already have, my Apollo!”
“Mmm. I know. But maybe there’s something more?”
“Ah, well. I want you to do everything you know how to do, then do everything you can think of to do, then a few things you’ve never thought of, then when you run out of those, start all over again!” She laughed.
“Hm. Well,” I laughed too. “Is there any more wine?”
“Uh,” she twisted around to look, giving me a most delicious view of her back and rump.
How beautiful she was in the moonlight, now quite bright, the moon having climbed the ladder of the sky, hanging big and round overhead. Her skin seemed to shine silver, her hair spun white gold.
“Yes,” she said at length. “But you will have to open the other bottle. We finished the first.”
“All right. You know, I have several bottles of the same chateau in the cabin ashore. Shall I get it? In fact, why don’t we pack up and go there. A body so soft and beautiful should not be roughing about on a rock!” I stood up, ready to do so.
“Oh, no,” she cried. “I don’t want to go indoors. Gods like Apollo and Aphrodite should never be crammed into a building.”
“But even the gods will get mosquito bites, and if this breeze stops they will be here by the thousands, and your skin should never be so mistreated!”
“No. Please. This is now our island. It is ours and only ours. I want to stay here. There is nothing here to pollute tonight. We have another bottle, and some more food. There is some french bread and cheese.”
She was lying belly down on the blanket, propped up on her elbows, watching me.
I nodded. “Yes. It IS magical here. And it’s cool and pleasant.”
“You look so beautiful standing there in the moonlight. I think you really are Apollo.”
I sat back down, and stroked her back, my hands straying over her delicious dimpled rump.
“And you look like a silver statue come to life. Hand me the corkscrew?”
While she reached out for it, I made a pillow out of extra folds of the blanket for her.
“Oh! Look what just fell from the sky!” she laughed. She propped herself on the makeshift pillow, half turning on her side, and watched me open the bottle.
I poured out two glasses. We sipped quietly, while my hands returned to their play.
“How long will it take for you to ‘recharge’ again?” she suddenly asked.
I chuckled. “You are insatiable! Honestly, I don’t know. You stir things up in me like never before.”
In fact, to my amazement, I was stirring already. Just watching her, the curve of her hip, the smooth round dimpled globes of her buttocks, her breasts falling slightly sideways as she lay, her hair cascading over her shoulder, a strand waving in the light breeze…
And something, I didn’t quite know, indefinable, beautiful.
On sudden impulse I said, “Lie back, get comfortable. I want to give you something.”
She did. With a confident, trusting look. And then I knew.
The something indefinable.
“You trust me.” It was a statement.
“Why, yes,” she answered. “completely. And you trust me.”
“Yes. I don’t know why, I don’t care to know why, but that is the way it is, the magic of it, isn’t it.”
She laughed again. “Yes. Why should the gods fear each other?”
I kissed her then. A tender, brushing kiss that transmitted both tenderness, and the heat of passion. I wanted to give her the orgasm of her life.
I lifted her legs up, then raised her hips until she was in a half-shoulder stand. I parted her thighs, and kneeling before her, I propped her up on my legs. Even in this ungainly position, she still looked graceful.
Again I marvelled at how beautiful she was. The valley of love which opened before me, filling my nostrils with its heady perfume, also filled my eyes with delight. The soft butterfly folds partly concealed between the soft mounds of her outer lips, the soft curling downy fuzz. I stroked her thighs with my fingertips. I kissed the stretched fleshy mounds of her rump, nibbling at them gently.
I blew a stream of air across the slowly parting folds of her, and gently traced a line around them with my fingers.
I kissed gently at the soft mound of flesh over her pubic bone, pulling lightly at the soft curls there.
“Mmm. You tease.” she sighed.
I moved slowly downward, kissing gently at the pouting lips. I moved back to look at her.
“Oh, don’t stop!”
“I want to look at you. You are so incredibly beautiful.”
I touched my tongue to the crease between the frilly pink petals and her thighs, tasting the curved hollow on each side.
I watched the warm butterfly wings begin to open, then gently and languorously sucked at the fleshy folds of her, one at time. I felt their heat increase, heard her sighs deepen with my slow attentions.
I drew back again to gaze at her, hypnotized by the delight before me. I drew my fingertips across her cheeks, along the moist mounds of her lips, then gently thumbed them apart, revealing the soft, smooth, glistening valley between the scalloped inner lips, the little bud at their junction pulsing slowly.
Then slowly, with my tongue extended, I descended.
She sighed, then moaned with my gentle invasion. I drew my upper lip across the nest, buried my tongue in the soft folds of her tunnel.
Extending the blade of my tongue till it ached, and pressing my mouth tightly against her, I opened the gates. I withdrew my tongue, then extended it again, tasting the warm moistness of her canal. Then I began circling it within her.
The taste of her was driving me wild. The blood roared in my ears. I felt the veins of my neck throb.
I withdrew again, and traced my tongue upward to the nest of her love bud. I nuzzled at it, drawing up the inner valley to tease at it again and again.
Each touch brought another gasp from her.
I began a gentle tongue-brushing, starting from just behind her rectum, flicking up across the soft flesh, the heated tunnel entrance, and ending with a caress of her erected button.
On each trip, I felt the little ring of her postern opening press out, then draw back, felt the superheated folds of her love tunnel seeming to grab for me, her love-button to press at me.
I felt her muscles begin to tighten, and relaxed my rhythm, spending more time, warming her further. I wanted her to crest more slowly and higher than ever before.
Slowly she relaxed, but her hips had taken up a motion of their own. Taking their cue, I matched the tempo, pressing into her, sucking at the extended button, the fleshy, frilly labia. I kissed at her rearward opening, it’s tight little pulsing ring. I gently invaded it with the point of my tongue, my little blade alternately pressing wetly in and being pressed out.
Once again, her muscles began to dance, once again I eased. Her bud pressed outward, I teased gently at it, tracing the root of it with my lips and tongue. Her gasps rose, her hips rotated, pressed up to me.
This time I went on. Her belly heaved, her nubbin danced. But I didn’t stop. I knew there were further depths. I ground my face into her, sucked at the nest of her bud, stabbed at the little wad, rolling it between my lips. Her ecstasy rose ever higher. I knew she had cum, but I went on.
“Ohh. Ohh. Oh please stop. No, don’t stop. Ohh. Oh.” She babbled.
My tongue and lips worked almost by themselves. I became intoxicated, lost in the heady ecstasy I was inducing, lost in the taste of her. My mouth locked over her entire organ, sucking it. My tongue became a fiery blade, circling within her body.
I pounded my tongue into her, though my jaws ached, and the base of my tongue stretched painfully. My face was drenched with her creamy fluids and my own spittle. Her nubbin ground at my nose, my slippery chin pressed into her rear.
Her babbling became incoherent, little cries interspersed with animal growls. Her hips bucked violently against me. Her feet came up and her heels began to pound at my shoulders. I continued to gnaw at her. Her fingers wound into my hair and pressed my face into her. My aching hard spear was throbbing tumultuously. My blood roared in my ears, my body was trembling.
I pursed my lips around her love button, sucked it, licking it, drawing the flat of my tongue across its head.
I inserted a drenched, soaking finger into the soft puckered ring of her rear opening.
Her voice broke into sobbing gasps, the violence of her hip motions peaked, her sphincters clamped hard. I almost came myself. Her motions began to subside, and I sensed it was enough. I eased my aching tongue, and gently kissed at her.
I looked up at her face. Even in the moonlight I could see how flushed she was. Gently I let her hips down onto the blanket, slid down beside her, and stroked her sweat-drenched belly with my fingertips.
I kissed her cheek.
“Ohhh.” she sighed. “so long. It went on for so long. It seemed it would never end. I didn’t want it to end. I almost couldn’t stand it, but I didn’t want it to stop.”
She put her arms around my neck and drew me to a long, long kiss.
Her body was still trembling. She smiled, ran her fingers through my hair, and placed wet kisses on my lips.
“Mmmm. That was good,” she breathed into my neck. She reached over me, her rose-tipped cones brushing my chest, and took up the wine.
Pressing her lips to mine, she filled my mouth.
I brushed her back and sides with my fingertips.
“Did you say there was some cheese?” I asked.
Again she reached over me, her twin peaks brushing me ever so lightly, and, breaking off a piece of cheddar, offered it to me with her lips.
I took the cheese, sucking her upper lip briefly.
“This is the best way to take food,” she said. “Lovers should never have a meal any other way!”
She broke another piece of cheese, and again offered it. I took it the same way, and gave half back.
She bent and licked up the crumbs from my chest, lingering at my nipples. She ran her hands up and down my chest, pressing gently here and there. I wondered if the Roman emperors had been ministered to as well.
We ate quietly for a while, savoring each other as well as the food.
After a while, she lay down, cradling her face on her arms.
How beautiful she was, I marvelled again! The curve of her back, narrowing to her small waist, broadening to her smooth hips, the firm globes of her cheeks like rounded hills. Her slim but well-muscled legs, so shapely. Even lying still there was a fluid grace about her.
I rose, and squatting over her legs, began to massage her shoulders and back. I kneaded at the muscles, finding and easing the little knots.
“Ohh. That feels good.” she murmured.
“For me, too,” I answered, for it did. The feel of her skin, the texture of the flesh beneath, was a sensuous delight in my hands.
I worked the muscles across her shoulders, then down along her spine. A little side trip to the muscles above her hip bones, then back down over the kidneys to where the twin hollows of her dimples lay. I trailed my fingers back up her spine to her neck, massaging the muscles, then worked back down.
Next, I turned my attentions to the muscles of her thighs, kneading them alternately, working down to the calves.
I turned around and massaged her feet, gently kneading their bones, rotating the ankle joint, easing the tensions in her toes. When I finished, on impulse, I sucked her big toe into my mouth.
Turning around again, I worked the muscles of her buttocks. What delights they were!
“You make me feel so relaxed, I’m afraid I’ll fall asleep!” she whispered languorously.
“Mmmm. Good. It’s sleepy and sexy at the same time.”
As I worked at her buttocks and thighs, her legs parted, and I changed position so that I was kneeling between them. The sight and feel of her body was exciting, and soon my sword, still wetted from my last activities, was standing in salute, announcing my appreciation of her beauty.
I leaned forward, and began to apply my tongue to her neck, kissing and bathing that delightful skin. I bathed her back, licking each bump of her spine, tracing the outlines of her shoulder blades.
“Ohh. Mmm. Good. But wouldn’t you rather I rolled over?”
“Mmm. Perhaps, but later.”
As I bent over her back, applying my tongue to every delicious inch of her back, my spear fell into the valley between her cheeks. As I moved up and down her back, so it moved up and down that delightful rift.
“Mmm,” she murmured, squeezing her buttocks together around it, “That feels good too.
“Have you ever… that is, would you like to… Um, I mean, make love to me THAT way?”
“Yes,” I replied, “I want you that way too.”
“I’ve never done that. I’ve always been afraid it would hurt.”
“Don’t be afraid.”
“I’m not, with you.” I bent and turned my tongue to the valley, and to the little ring hidden there. I wet my tongue, invaded, wet again.
“Ummm,” she hummed.
I gently wet my weapon against her, then placed its point to the little puckered target, and pushed gently. The door was shut tightly. I wet my thumb and gently pressed it to the portal, which opened slowly to my insistent pressure. I returned the point of my spear to the portal and gently pressed once more. Suddenly, with a cry of surprise, then a sigh, the door opened, allowing the point to enter.
“Are you alright?”
“Ohh, yes. It feels so big. It is very exciting. Ohh. It doesn’t hurt at all, it just feels big.”
I entered a bit further, the tight, hot doorway fanning my fires to a white heat.
“Mmm. Let me move on you,” she said, wiggling.
I gently withdrew, sliding back out. She got up on her knees. Carefully, I renewed the fluids, adding some of her own, now flowing dampness, then held the point of my weapon against its target.
This time it was she who pressed, and the door opened more quickly, admitting me easily.
I held her still a moment, then gently and slowly entered.
She began to moan again, and she moved back and forth slowly, each rocking motion capturing more of me.
“Oh. Mmm. More,” she murmured.
My blood was roaring in my ears, my heart pounding in my chest, the exotic intimacy making we wild. I began to groan.
I squeezed her cheeks, then found her drenched lovebud with my fingers, my other hand going to her breast.
“Its good,” she cried. “Ohh. Yes, rub me there. Ohh.”
I rubbed her lovebud, and entered her love tunnel with a finger.
“I’m going to… Ohh! Ohh!” She pressed back against me, my spear throbbing far into her body, the tight, hot anal canal surrounding me, squeezing me.
“Ohhhhhhhh!” she cried, grinding my hand against her button with one hand. Her sphincter pulsed around me. Her hand released mine and sought out my sac, which she rubbed gently against her wet labia.
“Ahhhhhhhh!” The cry burst from my throat as, despite the depletion of my reservoirs, once more my tired cannons roared.
Once again we collapsed together, my weapon caught in her body.
“Ohhh,” she whispered, “I had no idea. Ohh. Its… so different, so good.”
“You get me so hot,” I said.
I gently moved my member within her.
“Oh! Please pull out slowly… Ohh. Mmm.” She giggled, “I might not be able to sit for a week!”
“I might not be able to walk,” I laughed.
Once again we embraced and kissed as the fires banked, and, twined together, we fell asleep.
I woke once in the night. It was almost dawn. Her head was nestled on my shoulder, her legs twined about mine, her hand holding my sword.
I smiled, and, fondling a breast, went back to sleep.
When I next woke, the sun was well up the morning sky, and she was gone. I searched the island, but no sign of her. The blanket was still there, though the basket was gone. When I went to the pile of my clothes to dress, I found that my tee-shirt had been replaced with a checkered shirt that buttoned the other way.
I found some marks on the stone, written with the burnt end of a stick: “Goodbye, my Apollo. I love you.”
Though I searched the lake and nearby town for months, I never saw her again.
Were it not for a checkered shirt and a blanket, I would think I had dreamed it all.