arched and formed a great still cavern. And then it broke, wave after wave of convulsion and sobbing; I drank and drank of her until the cycle ended, and we both slid forward and lay there, sated.
After a while, she stirred. I looked up at her and her eyes held a light I had never seen before in any woman. She drew me up and kissed my mouth and face. "This is for you, Michael, only for you. I have never let another man have just this before. Only you have this special part. This is just for you. Now, fuck me. Put your cock in me. Let me give you my cunt."
Trembling, I pushed myself up and saw her lying on her back, her legs apart, her breasts quivering back onto themselves, her ass forming a cup on the sheets. "Here, take it," she whispered. "It's all yours, it's just for you."
My cock was almost bursting, and I lowered myself slowly into her. Immediately the heat and wet of her cunt changed the electricity of my entire body. Waves of relaxation washed over me, eddies of gratitude and joy. I felt my face light up with love. I was like a child overwhelmed with goodness. "Oh, Susan . . . Susan . . ." was all I could say.
"Yes," she hushed in my ear. "Yes, baby, it's all us."
And like that we fucked, cock and cunt becoming one organ, no separation between us, but just a single joyous riding through time into realms of timelessness. And our entire eternity was the smell and sound and taste and sight and touch and balance of the glorious, shitty, sublime human body. Deep, deep within we heard the call, the summons to climax. And a great heat and tumult began erupting throughout all existence, with our eyes locked to each other and our minds a single awareness, with jiggling breasts and heaving asses and drooling mouths and cries from some primeval plain, we came and we came and we came.
I must have lost consciousness, because I next remember waking up in Susan's arms and the sweat between our bodies had dried. "Susan," I called, and she gently opened her eyes. She smiled. "Hello, darling," she said. And in that instant fear struck. For there was no recognition in her gaze. And I wondered how many other times and with how many other men this had happened. It was not jealousy that bothered me now, but a sense of having been cheated somehow, of having been promised something unique, and receiving a beautiful present, but one which came out on a production line. Did she know who I was? What was in her mind? There was no way to ask without being clumsy.
She may have sensed something for she asked, "Is something wrong?" "No," I lied, "it's just that I was wondering about the time. Tocco said something about an experiment this evening." With the mention of that name, I snapped out of my meantime nirvana and plunged into contextual reality. Still, this is one time I was glad he hadn't burst in with one of his bits of esoterica. "Probably time for us to be getting dressed," she said, and we climbed off the bed to get our clothes on.
On impulse I grabbed her arm and asked outright: "Susan, while we were making it, what ... I mean, were there any things in your head that . . ."
But she cut me off. "It's too soon for us to go into that," she said. "Let us just enjoy it as it was."
"But what it was is what I want to find out about," I protested.
She looked at me levelly. "What more do you need to know?" she asked.
I realized that I had come down too heavily on the moment, and I backed off. "No more than I now know," I said.
She stepped quickly into my arms and put her head on my chest. "Oh Michael, I know it's difficult, and it's going to get harder. And I don't want to sound like I know more than you, but it's just that when you've worked with Tocco for a year, you are able to see things, somehow . . . oh, I don't know how to explain. We had something very beautiful and special. Just hold on to that. Remember, no matter what else happens, or you think you see happening."
My doubts melted and I held her
After a while, she stirred. I looked up at her and her eyes held a light I had never seen before in any woman. She drew me up and kissed my mouth and face. "This is for you, Michael, only for you. I have never let another man have just this before. Only you have this special part. This is just for you. Now, fuck me. Put your cock in me. Let me give you my cunt."
Trembling, I pushed myself up and saw her lying on her back, her legs apart, her breasts quivering back onto themselves, her ass forming a cup on the sheets. "Here, take it," she whispered. "It's all yours, it's just for you."
My cock was almost bursting, and I lowered myself slowly into her. Immediately the heat and wet of her cunt changed the electricity of my entire body. Waves of relaxation washed over me, eddies of gratitude and joy. I felt my face light up with love. I was like a child overwhelmed with goodness. "Oh, Susan . . . Susan . . ." was all I could say.
"Yes," she hushed in my ear. "Yes, baby, it's all us."
And like that we fucked, cock and cunt becoming one organ, no separation between us, but just a single joyous riding through time into realms of timelessness. And our entire eternity was the smell and sound and taste and sight and touch and balance of the glorious, shitty, sublime human body. Deep, deep within we heard the call, the summons to climax. And a great heat and tumult began erupting throughout all existence, with our eyes locked to each other and our minds a single awareness, with jiggling breasts and heaving asses and drooling mouths and cries from some primeval plain, we came and we came and we came.
I must have lost consciousness, because I next remember waking up in Susan's arms and the sweat between our bodies had dried. "Susan," I called, and she gently opened her eyes. She smiled. "Hello, darling," she said. And in that instant fear struck. For there was no recognition in her gaze. And I wondered how many other times and with how many other men this had happened. It was not jealousy that bothered me now, but a sense of having been cheated somehow, of having been promised something unique, and receiving a beautiful present, but one which came out on a production line. Did she know who I was? What was in her mind? There was no way to ask without being clumsy.
She may have sensed something for she asked, "Is something wrong?" "No," I lied, "it's just that I was wondering about the time. Tocco said something about an experiment this evening." With the mention of that name, I snapped out of my meantime nirvana and plunged into contextual reality. Still, this is one time I was glad he hadn't burst in with one of his bits of esoterica. "Probably time for us to be getting dressed," she said, and we climbed off the bed to get our clothes on.
On impulse I grabbed her arm and asked outright: "Susan, while we were making it, what ... I mean, were there any things in your head that . . ."
But she cut me off. "It's too soon for us to go into that," she said. "Let us just enjoy it as it was."
"But what it was is what I want to find out about," I protested.
She looked at me levelly. "What more do you need to know?" she asked.
I realized that I had come down too heavily on the moment, and I backed off. "No more than I now know," I said.
She stepped quickly into my arms and put her head on my chest. "Oh Michael, I know it's difficult, and it's going to get harder. And I don't want to sound like I know more than you, but it's just that when you've worked with Tocco for a year, you are able to see things, somehow . . . oh, I don't know how to explain. We had something very beautiful and special. Just hold on to that. Remember, no matter what else happens, or you think you see happening."
My doubts melted and I held her
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