Just For Her

Craig felt himself grinning again, enjoying the teasing, going for a lick or nibble himself each time she planted one. Then something moved inside him, rolling and rising, awakening. Debbie saw his eyes flash, his smile vanish, and then suddenly his hands went from gentle topowerful. Hungrily, he pulled her toward him and their mouths met, their lips pressed hard together. Craig held her mouth tight against his and pushed his tongue into her mouth. Debbie felt an instant response – she pushed her tongue past his, tasting his saliva, tasting his urgency. Tongue, teeth, lips, sliding, smearing, biting, sucking. She felt the thousand lightening bolts race out to the edges of her skin and stay there. She felt like every pore on her body was glowing with electricity, she was on fire. A thousand tiny fires. Their breathing became rapid. This was beyondurgent.

Debbie's heart was beating so hard she could hear the roar of blood in her ears, the sound blending into the sound of his breathing, each breath like an animal, and she knew, she could feel that thing inside him, not just moving now, butdriving, taking control. Their mouths were huge, greedy, insatiable. She realized she was pulling her skirt and panties off, practically ripping them off.

In two steps, Craig had his pants off from around his ankles. He more or less carried Debbie to the side of the bed, his hands still just below her ears. He knelt on the bed and lay her down beside him, their mouths still locked together. He threw one leg over and straddled her hips, and then lay on her, lifting and sliding his legs in between hers, their bodies writhing against each other. Craig rubbed his cock against her pussy, back and forth, not entering her, just feeling the hot, wet labia caressing the sides of his cock. Lifting her knees, Debbie felt her labia spreading, felt the texture of his hard cock rubbing against her clit, and she heard a sound come from deep inside her unlike any sound she'd ever made before. It was primeval, as if she, too, had an animal inside her, and it wantedout.

Craig felt his arousal rising within him, felt the rhythm speeding up. Just as he was about to abandon himself to the sensations, a little voice in the back of his mind said: no, not yet. Gathering what conscious will he had, he lifted himself off Debbie, up onto his knees and hands, above her. Debbie felt her body arch up toward his, aching for more contact, lusting for the feel of his hairy chest, his beard against her cheek, his cock against her pussy. Craig felt her need, it fed his own need until his will was wavering, teetering on the edge and then he let go with his knees and hands and landed on top of her like a ton of bricks. It was about the least sexy thing that had happened all evening, and it worked. It broke theurgentspell.

Debbie pushed Craig off her so she could breathe and he slid down her body, down, down, slowly. So slowly. He licked her breasts like they were big ice-cream cones, starting at the bottom, round in circles, moving toward the top. She felt her breasts become wet, felt little tickles every time his beard brushed against her skin. By the time he got to her nipples they were so hard she thought they'd burst, but then he took them into his mouth and every one of those thousand lightening bolts raced straight into her nipples. It was pleasure verging on pain and that animal rolled round inside her. She thought it was going to wantoutagain, but the sound that came out of her was more like a purr, a purr on the end of every breath, every deep, deep breath.

Craig inhaled deeply, deliberately, his nose so close to Debbie's skin he could almost feel the languorous scent lifting from her. Debbie's fragrance told stories, evoked moods and memories, like the smell of distant rain or the smell of a cat's fur when it's been lying in the hot sun. The rich, salty flavour of her skin was full of nuances – yeasty, sour, peppery, musty. It seemed like his blood just wentpound, like every part of him throbbed when his lips came to rest on her nipples – they were so hard, so rigid with pleasure. He was a blind man, reading like Braille the soft bumps and ridges beneath his lips, feeling his body respond to the elegant textures, the fine detail.

As the steady, slow movement of his tongue on her breasts moved down to her belly button, Debbie felt shivers move through her body. She was so aroused that when he moved down, slowly down, down across her pubic mound and down onto her pussy, there was no sense of relief – noat last, he's there– just a steady rising sensation of pleasure moving through her. She could hear the purring getting louder, the breathing more regular.

Craig wiggled his tongue down from her pubic mound, moving closer and closer to her clit. He moved firmly down onto the top of her hood and then sucked, drawing her clit up between his lips, where he could tickle it with his tongue. Debbie felt her clit become hotter, more engorged. It seemed as though the thousand lightening bolts were born in his tongue and passed into her body through her clit. Craig could feel the blood pounding through her clit, pounding with a rhythm that seemed to synchronize with their breathing and moaning.

He slid his tongue up and down between her labia, drinking the juices, smearing them all over her pussy, inside, outside, down her thighs and up onto her belly. He felt as if he was drowning in warmth and wetness and juice, lost in the earthy, animal smell, the heat, the soft textures, the salty taste.

Craig moved back and forth between her clit and her labia, and with every cycle Debbie felt her pleasure rising. She took deep breaths, groaning, growling. That animal inside her wanted to express herself and every groan, every sound she made was different. Some were almost words:more, more, oh, oh god, yes, more– but most were primal, moaning sounds that came from deep inside her, matching the rhythm of her breathing. The shivers passing through her had turned to waves and she felt herself moving to that rhythm again, like she was possessed, and she realized: she was doing thesurrenderthing again.

Then Debbie found out what beards are for. Craig wrapped his arms around her thighs, placing his hands on her hip bones, pulling her closer, tighter, squeezing her thighs against his furry cheeks. Still licking and sucking her clit, he pressed his chin against her pussy. Debbie felt her labia spreading as the coarse curly hairs tickled and scratched and scrubbed. Her skin seemed to glow, the very surface of her skin became hot and invigorated. She felt her back arch as the harsh sensation inserted a layer of tension into the pleasure. Her animal rolled and stretched and flexed inside her.

Craig pressed his nose onto her pubic mound, and slid further down so that his nose was pressing against her clit while his tongue delved deep into her cunt. The flavours became richer, the heat more intense. Debbie wondered how he could breathe, but the sound he was making wasn't like breathing. It was a deep rhythmic roar that matched tempo with hers. It was that thing inside him, that animal – it had found its voice, a voice so deep, so powerful she could feel the vibrations.

She felt her pleasure rising still more, coming closer and closer to orgasm, in glorious, smooth climaxes that would rise and settle like mountainous waves, like tsunamis, but each time she thought she was going to come, she realized she was just riding higher, riding on the crest of an orgasm. She sat on the crest forever. An eternity of rhythmic, warm, wet pleasure. She began to scream with pleasure and Craig went back to the clit-sucking, labia-licking cycle and the pleasure rose still more, until she thought she was going to die, like this was some kind of near-death sexual madness, like this was the last time she would ever have sex because after this there could only be some kind of oblivion.

And then she came. She felt her body convulsing as wave after wave after wave of deep pleasure passed through her. Her and her inner animal, screaming and writhing and trembling and convulsing until she almost cried out for the ecstasy to stop.Mercy, Lord, show me mercy.

The waves diminished, the thunderous panting quietened. Licking and smearing her copious juices, Craig moved up her belly, between her breasts, his face and beard and even his hair drenched in sweat and juices, until they were lying next to each other on the bed, arms wrapped around each other, feeling the warmth and wetness, breathing in the aroma like it was a drug, keeping their senses aroused but relaxing their bodies, savouring the moment.

Craig was lying on his back and he may have been relaxed but his erection was as hard as ever, doing that rhythmic pulsing thing that erect penises do, the tip glistening with yet more pre-cum. Debbie was drifting in the post-orgasm intoxication of pleasure, drunk with pleasure, but there was also just a simple, plain happiness. She was happy like a kid who has just met a new friend who likes the same games. She wanted more fun. So she hopped on top.

And they did the "unemployed". She was wet, wet, wet and slid easily onto his cock. She felt it throbbing over and over again as she slid on, slowly, slowly lowering herself, squeezing and releasing her vaginal muscles as she went, moving to the pulse of his erection. Finally, her hot, wet, inflamed clit pressed itself against his pubic mound and there was a rude sort of squishing noise, wet and hot. Craig let out a kind of deep groan mixed with a sigh, slipping into deeper relaxation.

And then there was more chat. They talked for ages, talked about pets and motor bikes, favourite books and holidays, make-up and planets. Debbie was delighted to learn that there is a dwarf planet called Xena somewhere out beyond Pluto. Craig was less open to new ideas, remaining convinced that make-up should only come in two colours – red and white – and should be used exclusively by clowns. They talked about nice beaches in Miami and the best ice-cream shops in Sydney, and even global warming and Iraq. Debbie loved the feel of him inside her, every throb, every wet, warm inch as she occasionally rose and slid down again. Every grind of her clit against his pubic mound. She loved how, every time he had a stretch and a sigh, he'd arch his body, pushing up against her and she could feel his cock inside her, hardening and relaxing, as if it was having a stretch and a sigh, too.

They talked about how delicious every moment of their evening had been, about the silly laughing fit back on the promenade and about the incredible sensations, the look and feel of their bodies, the changes of pace. Debbie was holding tight onto his cock with her pussy and she felt him getting harder, throbbing while he talked. She loved listening to him talk about how warm and wet and soft her pussy felt, and with each word, she tightened her pussy and moved around, grinding and squeezing. She stroked his chest and he slid his hands up along her arms, up to her shoulders, down her back. She bumped her fingers across his nipples and his hands slid down to her bum, stroking, massaging, tickling her anus.

Then there was that moment when Debbie slid her pussy up his cock, leaning forward, trying to keep her clit against his shaft, and her cheek touched his. Craig felt her breath on his cheek, felt his own breathing become deeper. His inner animal rose and reached out within him. He felt it tense and his hands did that thing, again, going from gentle topowerful. He gripped her arse, squeezing the cheeks together, holding her cunt tight round his cock. He heard Debbie give a little gasp, a little voiced inhalation. It was the sexiest music possible, it sang to his libido. He felt his cock throbbing in response.

Then, inch by inch, millimetre by millimetre, Craig lowered her back down the shaft of his penis. She felt the muscles in her vagina tighten, by themselves this time. It was as if she felt every pore on Craig's cock as he moved her down, pushing his cock in deeper than she'd thought possible. It filled her like she'd never been filled before. There were deep sensations, deep tinglings inside her, deeper than she'd ever known. She felt a stirring inside her and she realized: he'd touched her animal.

And she'd touched his. Craig groaned a deep, rumbling groan that started at his cock and moved up through his body until it found his lungs and his throat and then it came out, and Debbie heard it speak to her, and she knew: it was a call. He was calling her animal and her animal was responding. She howled and dug her fingernails into his back. She moved up the shaft of his penis again, slowly, squeezing. She looked into Craig's eyes and saw fire, and then realized no, she was looking into the eyes of his animal and she could see: it wanted her, wanted her animal. This was desire, but not like either of them had ever known it before. This was beyond anything they'd ever known.

She moved back down his cock and she felt her cunt pulsing now, pulsing as his cock slowly filled her up again, pulsing as her heart, her animal heart, pumped blood down toward her pussy. Her clit squeezed against him, her cunt tightened around him, the juices oozed out and trickled down his testicles, flowed out and over both of them, smeared over his belly and legs, over her thighs and arse. They both groaned and roared: again, their animals called to each other.

Debbie began to move up and down more quickly, more rhythmically, without being aware of what she was doing. Craig began to arch, pushing upwards. She felt his hands on her bum, squeezing as she slid down, pushing her hips forward so that her clit pressed hard against him each time.

Steadily, the rhythm sped up, and they realized they were matching tempo with the rhythm of the pulsing, that the pounding of their animal hearts had taken over. They'd become insentient, they'd lost any ability to control what they were doing. This was beyondsurrender. Surrender was a forgotten memory. This was his animal and her animal, face to face, screaming and roaring, scratching and fucking. Fucking like animals.

And then they felt it. They both felt it rising inside them. This wasn't just sexual pleasure. This was pleasure so deep, so basic, it came from a place before sex. Before any kind of animal had ever walked the Earth. It started deep inside, deep down inside their genitals, and then it moved up their spines until it reached a part of their brains that had lain dormant all their lives and then it exploded.

Craig felt his cock become hard, so hard, like an anvil, going deeper still, stroke after stroke after stroke. On and on, the primeval pleasure rose, higher and higher without any sign of a limit, and then suddenly the pleasure grabbed him and threw him, plunged into him, pounded at him, and he realized he was coming, coming, over and over again.

Debbie felt him come inside her, hot and wet and pulsing, pulsing with the animal rhythm that had them both possessed. Suddenly, she was like a rag doll, shaking helplessly as wave after wave of heart-stopping pleasure flowed through her body.

Pleasure crashed upon them in avalanches. It washed over them in floods, in such abundance it seemed to overflow, to spill out onto the bed, the furniture, the floor. It splashed against the walls and soaked into the curtains. The entire room was saturated with mind-numbing, crazy-making pleasure. Each avalanche, each flood somehow, unbelievably, more powerful than the one before, building up and up until finally, there was a moment, an exquisite, perfect moment, frozen in ecstasy as their animals cried out one last time to each other, a wild soulful sound laden with power and fulfilled desire, a sound that released them, returned their bodies to them, and they collapsed upon each other. They lay upon the bed, panting and sweating and then, both of them, crying, crying as a release, holding each other and crying, then suddenly laughing, then sighing, breathing huge, deep breaths, releasing, letting go as their animals returned to their deep inner place, moving on soft padded feet, back to their burrows, curling up, sleeping, waiting.

Still their bodies moved, without thought, without awareness, sliding against each other in the warm slick of sweat and juice and come, limbs wrapped around limbs, hands and hips and breasts and shoulders, bumping and stroking. Their cheeks touched, their lips connected, their tongues slid into their mouths, licking and tasting, and Debbie noticed the taste and the smell and noticed how familiar this stranger was, how comfortable she was with his taste and smell and texture, his size and shape and proportions. She opened her eyes. Deep inside, Craig responded, somehow felt Debbie's awareness, felt his own awareness returning, at first a difficult memory, then unfolding, blossoming, fitting neatly inside his skin.

Face-to-face, once more they looked into each other's eyes.

The kissing now was gentle – light pecks on the lips, the cheeks, their eyes. They flexed and stretched and curled up, just like their animals, as though the wrinkled sheets were a nest, a luxurious nest, warm, damp, full of animal smells. Craig smiled, marvelling at the clarity with which he could see Debbie now, her brown eyes, her long black hair, tangled and wet, but still shining.

They began to chat, again, about frivolous things. The sound of their voices, the disposable content, the casualness of it all helped them to remember who they were and gave them time to centre themselves before facing the inevitable: was there a way back? How would they ever return to who they were?

But by then they were lying apart, not touching, on the big, king-sized bed. Still connected, still looking into each other's eyes, but moving apart, giving each other back their space. "Well," Debbie said, "Thanks for that," hoping to acknowledge what had happened between them, but trying to keep it casual, hoping that if she could be casual, it would help them to return to the mundane world, and then Craig put on that lovely laconic Aussie style, winked, and said, "No worries, mate."

Debbie woke up the next morning, the sharp, bright Australian sun shining in the window. Craig was gone, but there was freshly-brewed coffee in the pot and a single, perfect red rose. For her. Just for her.

***

Many thanks to my three editors: Starry Eyed, who tried to make me grammatical; kbate, who encouraged me to speak more powerfully and to use the third person; and ade773, who sprinkled my story with petals of positive feedback and who reminded me how much I love beards.