A Double Storm

Her eyes flashed open, devil's eyes, and she gasped, "Okay. Do it! But do it hard."

Accordingly, he drew his penis back and plunged, back and plunged, as quickly as he could, feeling his scrotum release, hearing her yelps of pleasure. Then his warhead was bumping against somewhere inside her and he went into frantic spasm as wave after wave of his juices spurted up into her. Her vaginal walls seemed to contract as though squeezing the last drops out of him.

Collapsed on top of her, he whispered, "I'm sorry, I couldn't---"

Her hand came up to stroke his cheek, "Don't be. I was selfish. I still am. Always will be when it comes to this. Don't expect other women to be as easy as me."

The rain clattered on the roof. Looking sideways Peter could see water streaming from the roof edge in a steady cascade, and beyond, through a gap in the hedge, the corn beaten down, fighting, it appeared, but to no avail as wind and rain tore into it.

"The rape of the corn," he muttered, welcoming the ready image, as his body relaxed and he rolled his weight off Gina, his limp penis leaving a silver trail across her thigh.

"More inspiration?" Gina asked, sitting up.

Peter nodded out towards the fields, "It's like there has never been a sun. Never been light. Out there it's so gloomy--" He paused and placed a hand over her breast, " Yet, in here—it's----it's---cosy."

Her eyes were steady on his face. She sounded as though he had given her much pleasure. but he had no inclination to act macho. Hell, he had no right to do that. "So now you've had your first woman." She laughed, " A genuine roll in the hay, if you like."

"Thank you."

Her eyes moved out to the corn being lashed by wind and rain. "You're first experience, my thirty second."

Peter made a surprised 'Ooh' shape with his mouth," Thirty two times--?"

"No, thirty two different men."

Peter's mind tried to take that on board, Thirty two different men—-hell, she was only twenty. "How old were you when you—-er---started."

Her eyes looked at him with a teasing glint, "I'd been eighteen for three days." she said quietly. "But thirty two is just this year's figure."

Peter could not suppress a gasp," Thirty two in eight months? But that's---"

"Some of them I had for a few days---did it a few times with them."

She watched as Peter's head shook in shocked amazement. So that explained her easiness to some extent.

"You need to know---no money has been involved. It's a compulsion, a craving, a fire down there, that can't be quenched. And I'm a little surprised at myself because you are the very first person---other than a doctor or psychiatrist, that I've ever felt the need to explain myself to."

This was the girl/woman he had adored from afar since he was fourteen. She had been his image if virtue. Now Peter was hearing, from her own mouth, that she was as easy as taking a drink of water. Just minutes ago he had been lifted by her wanting to kiss him. Now he was just one of many—a salve for her needs.

Yet looking down at her face now, so beautiful, so genuinely concerned at his confusion he could only feel an overwhelming concern for her.

"So you've seen doctors?"

"All kinds," she said. "All full of clever words---and in some cases probing hands." She shrugged, "Full of advice that had no effect. Apart from ensuring I was on the pill."

Peter leaned forward and kissed her gently on the mouth, as he drew back she half smiled, "That was very kind of you." Then she wriggled up. "Come on, I promised you some insights that might help you. My needs always take over. Let's clean up first."

She was up, leaving her dress behind her, and hurrying, wonderfully naked, to the edge of the barn, where water still poured from the roof. The wind lifted her hair as she turned and called, "Come on. You need to be hardened."

Puzzled, Peter climbed to his feet and, moving towards her, he saw her cup her hands, and hold them under the water cascading from the roof. As he reached her, she smiled up at him, stooping to splash the water between her legs, and rubbing vigorously. She repeated the action with just a little shiver, and said, "One doctor suggested that a cold compress applied down here might help. It did---for maybe two minutes."

Standing close to her Peter shivered as occasional spots of water, blown by the wind, hit his shoulders. Gentle shocks. Gina cupped her hands once more and then, without warning, and with a wicked grin, she sank to her knees and pushed her water-laden hands up against his soft cock.

With a wild yelp, Peter jerked at the shock of the cold. He half stepped back, but her hands remained tight on his softness, and she was laughing, "You know you like it."

In spite of the initial chill of the water, Peter had to join in with her laughter, "But it 'll shrivel," he said.

"Not in my hands it won't." And she turned away to gather more water, and her second application was less discomforting. In fact the way she now caressed and rubbed with both hands along his length and under his scrotum was very pleasant. But there was no indication of an erection.

"Maybe you need deeper stimulation," she murmured.

"I don't think I can---ooh!" Peter had been about to tell her that an early erection was unlikely, when, without warning, she had leaned into him, and taken his limp member into her mouth, sucking on it and rolling her tongue around it, her eyes looking up at him.

Peter was panting from this new extra experience. He knew he was still soft, but every suck was sending tingles around his groin.

Gina drew her head back, "I think the blood is beginning to flow back," she said, as she released him and sat back on her haunches.

Looking down Peter could see that his penis had a low jut to it.

"I think—and hope—that what I have in mind now will bring you up to maximum."

She stood up and, taking his hand, led him back to where they had been lying. "I don't do blow jobs usually---nothing in that for what I need. But it's useful to get you up again."

"Does that make me special?" Peter asked, noticing that the rain seemed to have eased. The drumming on the tin roof had stopped..

Gina turned to face him, "Only because, for you, I'm trying to turn my needs into a learning situation. Your biological knowledge of women is very limited---books, maybe?"

Peter admitted that was mostly the case.

"Fiction or non?"

"Bit of both---physiology books."

"Porn?"

"No porn, " he admitted, and wondered if that made him sound more of a nerd.

They came to where she had left her dress, and stood there, naked, looking at each other. A very Adam and Eve situation, Peter thought. "So you know all about a woman's body---but it's all theoretical. True?"

Peter nodded, "Sadly, true," he said.

She lay down on her back, legs slightly parted, "Nothing to be sad about. Come down here. This is the part of nature study you haven't encountered---the practical part.. I'll give you a few minutes to explore. But no longer than that----I'll expect you to be up and ready by then."

Hesitantly Peter lay down beside her. What he couldn't get his mind around was the fact that although only two years his senior, Gina was talking to him like some mature school ma'am.

Gina came up on her elbows, "Let's assume you know something about breasts, where they are and what effect they can have. Not for me especially, but you'll encounter women whose breasts are hyper-sensitive. So move your head down there." And she nodded her head down towards her parted thighs.

Slightly self conscious, Peter turned his body so that he was gazing down at her hairless pudenda.

"Let's have a naming of parts---if we're going to be so clinical. You are looking at—?"

"The pudenda---shaved?" And he said the last word as a query.

"Cleanliness---it gets so much activity." She parted her thighs a little more. "Now you can see?"

"Outer labia," he said, amazed at how full those lips looked.

"Now, thumbs on either side of the gap," she began, and Peter was aware of the words becoming more clipped as her breathing became deeper. "Pull----pull the lips apart."

Peter did as he was told and felt her thighs trembling. At first the wet pinkness had him thinking of tearing open an overripe fruit. Distracted by Gina's gasping breath and body twitches, he changed his imagery. He was looking into the pink of opened rose petals with a dark-holed centre and a jutting bud at the near end.

"You see?" Gina's voice sounded like she was choking.

Peter was feeling a little more confident, "Inner labia, vaginal opening, and the clitoris---more exposed than I expected."

A pause as she caught her breath, then she hissed," Mine is always --like that---you may--- need to search---- for it ---on other women." More gasping, before she asked, "Do---something---for –me."

"What?"

"Run your fingers around the opening."

Removing one hand meant the lips closed a little but, excitedly, he probed at the right spot with one finger, ran it round the soaked rim, and felt her whole body stiffen, while a small growl came from the back of her throat. Peter suddenly felt her fingers encircling his penis, and he realised he had come fully erect. Not surprising, he thought, considering what he was engaged in.

"Now," she gasped, "In other situations you might use your tongue but--" Her voice faded away.

Peter had his face so close, he had the foxy aroma of her in his nostrils, and it was nothing, although an hour ago, it would have been alien to him, to flick out his tongue to lap at her dark entry. As her body shuddered he allowed his tongue to slide forward to cover the jutting clitoris.

It was as though he had pressed a detonator. Gina squealed, a high pitched keening sound, as her hips jerked frantically up into his face, almost knocking him backwards, while her body thrashed out of control. "In me. For God's sake, in me." And she was pushing his erection down, while Peter struggled desperately to bring his body round to get between her heaving thighs. It was like trying to mount a wild horse.

With a struggle, he was able to lie over her and guide his erection into her anxiously grasping vaginal opening. He hardly needed to push, as it seemed that every muscle of her vaginal wall was sucking him upwards, while she continued to heave, scream and groan.

Taking the weight on his arms he was able to thrust and pull back, but with some difficulty as her own thrashings were so unpredictable. Looking down into her face, Peter could see that she was completely out of it, eyes closed, mouth opening and closing as each new wave brought a variation of sound from deep in her throat

For Peter, being in her heaving vaginal passage was sensational. As she calmed a little, it seemed they hit a mutual rhythm, up and back, up and back, her hips rising to him on each upward thrust. At one point her hand clasped around the back of his neck, and drew his mouth down to hers for a frantic, tongue lashing kiss.

Without warning Peter realised that he was close to shooting. Somehow it had not entered his thinking, so absorbed had he been with Gina's reaction. He broke the kiss as the pressure reached a peak and he had time to call out her name, before he was plunged deep into her, feeling every delirious spurt from his pounding erection. Somewhere a bear was snarling and growling, until he realised that the noises were coming from his mouth, pressed hard into the hollow of her neck and shoulder.

Gina was giving off jerky sobbing noises. Peter lay there, heavy on her, wanting to stay inside her for as long as possible. But inevitably, he knew his spent penis was beginning its long soft slide out of her.

Gina gave a slight wriggle, and twisted her body to free herself from under him. Peter rolled to lie beside her. Although the storm seemed to have eased there were still sporadic rain pinging across the roof.

They lay side by side, on their backs, and Gina said, "As you'll have noticed, I can't do foreplay."

Peter was puzzled, "But you seemed to---well, go crazy when my tongue touched you."

"Yes, but any touch of finger or tongue down there only speeds up my real needs by a millisecond."

"That was a real orgasm you had, wasn't it?"

Gina gave a pained chuckle, "My greatest ability is in making a man believe he's the world's greatest lover---which he judges by my reaction. But if I have any man more than once or twice, he takes off, fearful that his precious manhood will suffer from wear and tear. Could be right."

"So you didn't orgasm?" Peter felt a vague sense of disappointment.

Gina sat up and looked down at him, "Please, don't feel badly about it. I was delighted that you had a good one. And in a sense –yes—I did have an orgasm, if that's what you want to call it."

Peter appreciated her sensitive concern for him, "But what else would you call it—you looked, felt as though---"

Gina broke in on what he was saying, "It's more like going crazy. My craving is always greater than my satisfaction. Look at me now---no lovely afterglow, no deep gratitude. In a few minutes I'll be raging to have it again. It just doesn't last. But it's like that with any man."

"So I was just a tool for you." And realising what he had said he giggled and she joined in.

"Aptly put. But in your case I saw a chance to use my own needs to aid your experience and understanding of women. I'm privileged to be your first, but--"

"And you succeeded," Peter said gratefully.

"No, I'm only capable of showing you the latter stages. I haven't the control to take you through the labyrinth of seduction that you're really going to need. Those early steps are tricky---my only advice now, would be for you to always be sensitive, be caring, be attentive, and don't be mean with the compliments."

"You still look gorgeous to me," Peter said fervently.

She leaned down to give him a quick peck on the lips, "Nice of you, when you know what I'm like."

"I can't understand how you found yourself in this ---er---condition at eighteen."

Gina lay back in the hay again, "I don't talk about it."

Peter sat up now, looking down at her, wanting to touch her firm breasts but resisting. "But you've already said I'm the only one you've told."

Gina's head nodded slightly. Her dark hair was fanned out over the hay. She was silent for a minute or so and then she said, "My parents were fervent church people."

Peter nodded, "I knew that—I don't know who told me—when I was fourteen, and noticing you."

She half smiled, "I don't know what you were told, but when I say fervent, I mean just that. I was practically kept under lock and key. No parties, no dating---"

"And you had no strong feelings at that time?"

"You joking.? Since puberty I'd had the feeling of having a sack of fiery serpents inside me, all struggling to be free."

"So how did you hold on so long?"

Her lips tightened, "I know it's hard for you to understand. But look at you---you've chosen to be a loner without anyone's guidance. I'd had it drummed into me, what our religion said about sexual contact. So when a boy asked me out, my response was a programmed, yet frustrated, 'No'.

"So, what happened?"

Gina told me how at last she was allowed to attend one party in her final weeks at school. Partly because she had turned eighteen, but mainly because it was a well-off cousin, daughter of her father's property developer brother. Big house. Worth keeping in with. Gina's father ensured first of all that there was no alcohol. Bowls of fruit punch were on display.

"Twenty or so young people, " Gina half smiled. "And to cut this short, three or four drinks into the evening I discovered that the punch had been liberally spiked. Vodka, I think. By then I'd lost any religious inhibitions. I was all giggly and playful. When two boys lured me into one of the many bedrooms, I had no inclination to resist---the drink or my latent repressed libido? Bit of both, I guess. The moment a hand went between my legs they knew they were onto a good thing."

Peter pressed closer against her naked thigh."And they both --"

Gina shook her head and gave a bitter laugh, "They both got the shock of their lives when they found what they'd unleashed. When that first erection slid up into me it was like a red hot poker that punctured the sack of serpents. My insides just burst into a fiery agglomeration of twisting, darting fires, searching along the walls of my vagina as though to entrap that invading penis. I just went wild. Out of my mind. Wriggling and twisting so much that the first guy couldn't stay in me, and then I was onto him, forcing him back in, where he finished quickly, and fell back slightly stunned. I was aflame, as I reached for the second erection and he had the same wild experience"

Gina shrugged her shoulders, "So the serpents are loose inside me. Twisting, burning, constantly demanding, permanent. Ever seeking gratification."

"So you sought medical help?" Peter asked.

She looked hard at him, "Did you know about the school incident?"

Peter did, and already was revising what he thought he knew, "About those boys assaulting you?"

"The popular version my father wanted put around. Once in that state, I was desperate for it. I took a boy I fancied into the PE stock cupboard. He thought he was luring me there. After two sessions in there he knew I was more than he could handle, so next time he brought three of his mates----and we were caught."

"My father was furious, ashamed, disgusted, all of those things. He organised the medical sessions. Kept me out of school, tried to keep me confined, but I found a way of getting out, late at night, and I found males who couldn't believe their luck. And, university loomed. Plenty of eager tom-cats there, always believing that it was their amazing prowess that was driving me into frenzies. That's where my reputation lies in tatters at the moment. We'll have to wait and see."

Lying close to her Peter had listened with a strange mixture of awe and disappointment. This was Gina Marlow, the girl he'd placed on a pedestal of virtue. She had just given herself to him with wild abandon, but worse, her body had been exposed to the whims of countless men. Yet looking at her lying, beautiful and as relaxed as she ever could be, naked beside him, Peter could not lose that sense of adoration she had aroused in him all those years ago.

Suddenly she sat up and looked down, "What's that you're pressing against my leg?" She asked, with a teasing smile. "Could it be a policeman's truncheon?"

Peter realised that being pressed against her, and hearing her explicit story he had hardened. Gina's fingers closed around his erection, and getting up on her knees she said calmly, "With your permission, I'll ride you into the sunset---a fitting goodbye."

And before Peter could respond she had straddled him, placed his penis against the moisture of her vaginal lips, and had sunk down to swallow it up. Looking down at him, she was initially smiling, but as she began rising and falling, impaling herself deeper and deeper, her expression changed to a rampant lustfulness, mouth gaping, eyes misted, head thrown back, then sideways, then back again, that autumn hair flaring, wafting over her face.

Once she leaned forward to let autumn linger over Peter's face. A mixed aroma of lavender and new mown hay. It felt like an extra caress. Then she was up and riding him again, with a fury that he could never match, her breasts bobbing furiously.

He would have loved to respond with his own upwards thrusts, but her pounding was so fierce, almost vicious, there was no way he could match it. He could only lie there and accept her as a gift, watching and hearing her almost desperate search for orgasm.

Soon, her writhing had him bursting forth, and as he released into her, he was able to raise his hips to meet her. So deep inside her he felt he must have entered her womb. The wildness of that moment would live with him for the rest of his life, as she gave a final squeal and collapsed on top of him, yet her vaginal walls clasped him tightly inside her.