Kisses on her stomach, her hips. Caresses on her bottom, then sliding deeply forward. Maddened now, she fumbled with his shirt until she could push it down his shoulders and feel his skin. He removed it somehow, never pausing in what he was doing to her.

He turned her into the chair. “Sit here.” He pressed her hips until she sat, then moved her forward to the edge. He kissed her thighs again, and touched the center of her tortuous pleasure. “I want to kiss you here. Will you allow it?”

She nodded without understanding what he meant. She only knew she wanted whatever pleasure he could conjure, and was long past shock. Or at least she thought so until his head went low and she felt that kiss and an arrow of pleasure speared right into the throbs down there and every other sense ceased to exist except the one experiencing that.

It got worse and worse, better and better. She knew she moaned but did not hear herself. She knew he moved her legs so her feet rested on his shoulders, but did not see it. He lifted her hips and had better purchase, and devastated her with his tongue. The pleasure turned excruciating in the best way, compelling and climbing and growing ever intense. She thought she would die if she did not stop it, did not retreat. Instead, somehow the tight painful pleasure broke, snapped, and sent successive waves of astonishing sensation flowing out, creating a place where she lost herself completely.

* * *

He heard her fretful moans when she got close. His mind and tongue urged her on. When her scream sounded and her release flexed her body, he knew an exultant sense of victory.

He stood and watched her face while he undressed. She looked ethereal in her bliss. Almost girlish in her total contentment. He gathered her into his arms and carried her to the bed. She murmured something he could not hear or understand.

Once on the bed her eyes opened a slit. She scrambled atop him, straddling him like the last time. Sultry and still astonished, she looked down at him. She bent low and kissed him deeply, then sat up again.

He took her breasts in his hands and caressed lightly, lest she be too sensitive still. She smiled and threw back her head and leaned into it, so he might use his mouth. She moaned freely as he pleasured her, and soon squirmed on his hips.

Again she sat back, a little wild-eyed now, magnificently erotic. She looked down at his swollen cock and ran one finger up its length. He had to fight to maintain control. Proud of herself, she did it again and again, then experimented with a firm caress.

Having jumped off the mountain once, she could enjoy a leisurely second climb. He, however, could not take much more of this. Another time he would let her play as much as she wanted.