Mrs. Hart's Ache Ch. 03 Int. 2

This is the fifth installment of

Mrs. Hart's Ache, Chapter III,
Interlude II: Bethany

Please include it under the categoryNovels and Novellas. For the sake of your readers, I've included an index which defines some of the more obscure terms.

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This is a simple tale of retribution, wherein the young hero teaches the mother of his girlfriend a few manners while enjoying a few adventures – sexual and otherwise – along the way.

This is a tale of yet another of our hero's playmates, Bethany. They share the sports of windsurfing and fucking. They're very good at both. But in this tale, Bethany has a bit of a problem. Our hero is only too glad to assist. He can't solve the primary problem, but he does know how to get his lady-friend back on track.

Mr Snake to the rescue…

Happy reading.

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Mrs. Hart's Ache

III The Ladies in My Life (cont.)

Interlude II: Bethany

"…Got my ass kicked by my Aikido sensei. Whacked off a couple of times. Did Bethany…"

Next, there was my pal Bethany: she is a 22-year-old grad student. We met last year at the Gorge, wind surfing. She's a crazy lady when the wind is up. Being too involved in her studies (graduate work in Computer Engineering), she doesn't have time for a serious relationship. We're more pals than lovers.

Pals that fuck.

Long and lean at 5'11", 135, she's got a six-pack gut too. She has dark green eyes, and straight dark blond hair that hangs almost to her waist. She's an double-A cup with bee-sting breasts (I mean, she has no tits), gumdrop nipples and theskinniest little ass.

She's also tanned to a golden brown over her entire body except for four little bitty triangles of white: her chest, centered over her nipples; her mons; and the point at which the crease of her ass meets the small of her back.

She wearsvery small, totally phat bikinis on the beach.

Bethany fucks like she windsurfs: crazy. She's all over the bed; against the wall; hanging from the headboard. And that's just the foreplay. Bethany also has a fair-size clit that she loves to have sucked.

Bethany swallows too.

My pal called one afternoon a few weeks ago. She was almost frantic. She had been in the lab working a problem 20 hours a day for two solid weeks. She'd hit the wall. Nothing worked, not even a supreme pizza with extra pepperoni.

The only answer was an emergency session with me to get the cobwebs swept out of her brain. She didn't sound at all like herself, so I dropped what I was doing and grabbed a couple of things. I wrote a quick note for Mom, then cruised over to Bethany's place.

She lives in a duplex near the university. When Bethany answered the door in her robe, I could see that this would take some doing. She was a mess. She looked like she hadn't had a good night's sleep in a week. Her eyes were red, her long hair hung lifeless and stringy. Her body looked sort of caved in and boneless. She appeared to be twice her age, and then some.

Taking her to bed and fucking her brains back tracking may have been the ultimate answer, but there was work to do before she was ready for that.

For a woman, Bethany isn't that concerned about her looks. Less so than most straight women I know. But she wouldn't let even me, her pal, see her in such a state unless she was really strung out over her problem. I think she realized it at the last minute, because she welled up, began mumbling that she wasn't feeling so hot after all and tried to call it off.

I knew better. I just took her hand and led her to the kitchen and made her sit at the bar while I made tea. I gabbed away about something while putting the water on to boil, but she just sat there looking uncomfortable.

She excused herself after a minute and went into the bathroom to make herself a bit more presentable. While she was gone I pulled the hip flask from my jacket and put a healthy slug of Jameson's in her mug. Then I filled a tea ball with her favorite brew, an Anxi Oolong.

By the time she came back, the water was ready. She looked a little better. She'd washed her face and combed her hair but still looked terribly tired. I poured her mug full and let it steep for a couple of minutes, then presented her with the tea-&.

Her eyebrows went up when she took a sip. For the first time since I'd arrived, a tentative smile played along her lips. I watched her drink the tea while I gabbed some more, then made her another cup and watched her drink that too.

While she drank the second cup, I began massaging her shoulders. Two healthy shots of good Irish Whiskey will get anyone relaxed. I could feel the tension leaking out of her body as I worked at the muscles of her neck. She groaned with pleasure occasionally, but otherwise just sat silently with her eyes closed and let me work my magic.

Before she was completely limp, I let her finish her tea while I ran a tub of hot, hot water with bath salts sprinkled in.

Her bathtub is one of those huge old cast iron monstrosities, large enough for two comfortably and three if they're friendly. While the water ran, I stripped to my boxers. Then I gathered towels and led her to the tub. She started to open her robe, but I stopped her. I made her stand quietly while I slipped the robe from her shoulders.

Bethany was left standing in a camisole and bikini panties. I massaged her neck for a moment. Then I slid the thin straps off of her shoulders, and gently tugged the camisole down her slender body, taking her panties down her legs with it. Behind, she has that small triangle of untanned skin centered on the upper curves of her asscheeks. That tiny patch of white flesh is startling: stark white against the deep tan of her legs and back.

Her rosy-red nipples crinkled to pebbles when a waft of cool air hit her chest. The water was just too hot for her to slip in comfortably. She took it in stages before she was finally stretched out.

I pulled her hair over one shoulder and laid over the shallow hump of her right breast, then put a folded towel behind her neck. She laid completely relaxed, with her eyes closed and her head perched on the edge of the tub. The water rose to her chin.

Three small triangles showed white against her tan, one each centered on the shallow humps of her breasts and the last bisecting her mound, barely reaching the top of her puss. Her nipples are naturally large berries centered in half-dollar sized rose areolae.

When she was settled, I put a few of my CD's in her changer and listened for a moment as Mr. Davis eased into "A Touch of Blue". Then the towels went into the dryer to warm, and I changed the sheets on her bed.

By the time I got back to the bathroom, Bethany was half asleep. I rinsed a washcloth in cold water, and dabbed the sweat from her brow. Then helped her drink a glassful. Last, I turned on a trickle of hot water, and spent an hour ministering to her while she floated there, relaxing.

When last note of that magic trumpet trilled away, the music switched to classic Van Morrison. "Moondance" came on as I knelt down behind her and washed her hair twice and massaged conditioner into her scalp gently. I dried her hair, brushing it until it shone. Then I retrieved the towels, shut off the water, then pulled the plug. She could barely stand, but I got her to her feet, then dried her with the still-warm towels.

She made to step shakily from the tub, but I wrapped her in a fresh towel and scooped her up in my arms. She put her arms around my neck and rested her head on my shoulder as I carried her to her bed. I wrapped her in her comforter and left her for a moment to take care of my own ablutions, and to gather her razor, shaving cream and a bowl of hot water.

She woke up a bit as I spread her thighs and shaved the faint dusting of fine blond hairs from her puss but didn't say anything. She just gave me a dreamy smile, then closed her eyes again and relaxed to the blade.

I gently wiped the remnants away, then smoothed aloe lotion into the skin. Her puss was wet by that time, the lips fat, crinkled and shiny. But she needed sleep more than sex.

The afternoon sun was low by that time. I cracked the window, closed the curtains, then slipped out of my boxers and into her bed. I fluffed a couple of pillows against the headboard, then laid back and gathered her into my arms. She roused enough to kiss my cheek, then closed her eyes, laid her head on my shoulder and was zonked in about 30 seconds.

It took me a few minutes longer, but listening to her breath helped. The last thing I remember was hearing the closing bars of "Into the Mystic".

The first thing I remember the next morning was a set of lips tugging gently at the tip of my cock. Mr Snake was still sleepy too, but woke up faster than the rest of me.

Mr Snake is usually faster than my brain.

I glanced at the clock and was shocked to see that we'd been asleep for ten hours. Now, I knew that Bethany had needed it, but I never sleep that long. Maybe the relaxation ritual had affected me too.

Anyway, I looked down and saw a large hump moving under the comforter, and felt a set of warm, wet lips sliding down the head of my dick. An agile tongue slithered along behind, teasing my glans and coaxing Mr Snake's head from beneath my foreskin. He never needs much coaxing.

Those marvelous lips took as much time caressing my cock as I had washing Bethany's hair the night before. It is one of my all-time favorite blowjobs.

She took me deep, swallowing the head. The muscles of her throat massaged the glans while her tongue danced along the shaft. She held it down until I though she'd suffocate, then pull back long enough to take a couple of breaths, then down she went, driving the head of my cock deep into her throat again.

Bethany must have swallowed my cock like that for 20 minutes, all the while caressing my sac and running her fingernails lightly along my thighs. She was expert at taking me to the edge of orgasm, then easing me back, before taking me to the edge once more. Bethany played me like she'd play the wind on a wave: up and down, back and forth, in and out. My job was to lay there and let it happen.

Finally she pulled back far enough that she could wrap her fist around the base of the shaft and began stroking me, milking my cock. Again, I let it happen. I laid there totally passive, just as she wanted me. There was no urgency on my part. I didn't feel the need to thrust.

The muffled sounds of her wet mouth sucking, and the sensation of her lips pulling at the sensitive glans, along with her fist tight around my throbbing shaft soon brought her reward.

I've never been so completely relaxed when my orgasm hit. It felt as though she flipped a hidden switch and my balls suddenly let loose. I groaned with each pulse as my cum surged up through the shaft to erupt in thick jets. She caught every one. I could feel her throat working as she swallowed each down, eager, nohungry to take every drop.

When she'd sucked the last of my cum from the end of my dick, she pulled back and began licking the remnants from the softening shaft. She covered every inch of my cock with her tongue, then spent a few moments licking and kissing my sac before slipping up and peering out from under the comforter with a mischievous grin.

I took one look and knew that my pal was all better. The sparkle was back in her eyes and dimples dotted her cheeks again.

She looked at me for a second, kissed my belly quickly then said "Now I've really got to pee!".

I laughed out loud as she jumped up and ran to the bathroom, her bare asscheeks flashing in the dim light.

While I took my turn, she put on fresh ground coffee and hopped back into bed. When I came back, I lifted the comforter to slide in. Bethany's nipples crinkled, standing tall and jutting from the small white humps of her bare breasts in the cool air wafting from the curtains. I love to play with Bethany's nipples.

I crawled between her thighs and rested my belly on her mound. She ran her fingers through my hair as I spent some time licking those bursting knobs. As I played, nibbling and kissing, we talked easily.

She thanked me for taking care of her like that. She said that it had made her feel sort of special. I told her that she was special. Then, I nipped one, not hurting, but making her jump. She let out a mew, than playfully slapped my back. She giggled then told me that always sent a tingle straight to her clit, and if I wasn't careful, she'd get my bellybutton all wet.

I captured her other nipple in my teeth, and smiled up into her eyes. She looked down and her eyes widened. She started to so "No! Don't you dare!", but only got the "N…!" out before my teeth closed again.

Her body jumped again, higher than before. Her head rolled back as she let out a moan. She shivered and I felt her juices gathering along the lips of her sex, pressed against my stomach. Then she slapped my back again and told me that I was naughty.

Time out.

I may not have told you. Bethany has sensitive nipples. Very sensitive. After her clit, her nipples are the most sensitive erogenous zones that she has.

Time in.

I said "Yeah, so?" then began sucking at those juicy buds.

Her neck arched back. She moaned tremulously and buried her fingers in my hair, gripping my head and holding my face to her chest. Whichever nipple was not in my mouth, I had my fingers tweaking. She wrapped her long legs around my flanks and crossed her ankles behind my back. Soon she was squirming beneath me, rubbing her bare, and by this time very wet pussy against my belly.

I played with her for a while, then began working my lips down her belly. My fingers never left her nipples as I kissed, nipped and sucked at her taut flesh. She shuddered now and again, when I touched a particularly sensitive spot, or tweaked a nipple just right. She began whispering to me, urging me on, anticipating each move, but still surprised when it came. I was teasing her along the edge of orgasm, and she was eating it up.

Her ankles uncrossed as I slid down farther. Her thighs opened wide, allowing access, then offering her center for my lips and tongue. Her fingers were still entwined in my hair, but loosely now. I was in charge of pleasuring her and she knew it. She only held on out of need, not to direct. Her breath caught suddenly as I traced my tongue along the hollow of her right hip, tasting the salt of her desire in the crease. As my tongue ran along, she moaned and the fragrance of her passion wafted from her sex.

I played there, circling her bare pussy for a while, teasing, without touching. As my lips met her heated flesh below, my fingers yet stroked and tweaked her bursting nipples, now grown achingly erect beneath the play of my fingers.

Bethany was squirming beneath me, pleading between whimpers of desire and need before I took pity and finally ran the tip of my tongue into the divide of her pussy. As my tongue traced along the tangy crease, she groaned and her entire body jumped. Her fingers stiffened again for an instant, balling in my hair, then she released her grip on my hair and grasped handfuls of the sheets to either side, twisting and tearing at the fabric.

I paused long enough to tell her to tweak her nipples, then lifted her legs high and rested her thighs on my shoulders. Her moans took on new urgency as she began caressing her breasts and pulling gently at her own nipples. Her knees bent and her curled toes pressed into my back as I claimed her center with my mouth. My hands gripped her asscheeks, holding her in place.

My lips and tongue were everywhere there: along the soft flesh of her sex, delving into the acrid slit; tracing along the bit of sensitive flesh between her pussy and the wrinkled pink kiss of her anus; even around that orifice then suddenly stabbing in.

Again Bethany's body spasmed, this time lifting from the bed as the tip of my tongue invaded her most private place.

"Ohgodohgodohgodohgod…" she cried as she writhed in my grasp.

I gave her no respite, but stabbed in again, eliciting yet another immense shudder. Then I traced the crease of her thigh up with my tongue, pausing often to nip at the soft flesh quivering there. Once more I was centered on her bare slit.

Bethany was ready, hanging on the edge and begging with soft whispers as I stabbed through her tight entry and gathered her juices, then pulled out quickly and lashed at her clit.

Her belly muscles clenched fearfully as my tongue swirled around her swollen pearl. Her balled fists tore at the sheets and her head whipped back and forth on the pillow as my tongue strummed her clit. She was teetering on the brink, when I wrapped my lips around the base of her clit, gripped the swollen node lightly with my teeth and began flaying it with the tip of my tongue.

One quick swipe, and she was launched.

Bethany wailed unheeding as her vast orgasm claimed her completely. She bucked against my face, then bucked again and wailed anew as my teeth lightly scraped her clit as they lost grip. I thrust my tongue into the entry of her vagina, fucking her with it as she came. Her juices flowed from her slit, bathing my lips and chin as she convulsed.

Before she could come down, I lashed her clit once more, sending her high again as another orgasm surged through her tightly strung body. Her toes curled, digging into my back, straining as she came.

Urgent pleas whispered between abject moans until I took pity and slowly brought her back with tender kisses upon the heated flesh of her thighs, belly and bare mound. Finally as she quieted, I bussed her pussylips with little kisses all around her slit. Her breath came in gasps, but her racing heart began to slow as she lay limply, lost for a time in the afterglow.

I lifted my torso from the bed and allowed her legs to straighten to either side before slipping from between her thighs. I wiped my face with the loose sheet, then laid stretched out beside her as she lay sprawled bonelessly upon the bed.

Eyes closed, her chest rose and fell with her breaths, slowing as I watched. Her turgid nipples began to soften.

After a few minutes, she took a huge breath and stretched, limbs curling and straining. Then she went limp again. Her eyes opened and she glanced up at me with a dreamy expression.

"That waswonderful!" she sighed, then reached up to pull my head down for a kiss. She tasted herself on my lips.

When I pulled back, she looked up with an impish grin, smacked her lips and said "Ooh, I'myummy!", then pushed me onto my back, pulled the comforter over us, and snuggled down against my chest. I agreed as I hugged her to me.

We lay there relaxing for a bit. Talking or not as the minutes passed. Easy with each other. She snuggled close, as I tend to be warm and she was still damp in spots. Her lithe body molded to mine as she lay half-turned, her thigh resting across my belly and her foot entwined between my legs.

Eventually my nose caught the scent of coffee wafting in from the kitchen, so I slipped from the bed and filled two mugs. Bethany takes sugar substitute, heavy on the cream, while I like just a touch of cream in mine.

She sat up and took her mug greedily, wrapped in the comforter. I slipped the sheet over me and leaned on a pillow propped against the headboard.

Kona! Good coffee!

Bethany sipped hers pensively for a minute, then looked up with twinkling eyes. She told me that she didn't want to make my head swell any more than it already was, but she had to tell me that I had a seriously buff body.

I thanked her for her prejudiced opinion.

She laughed, then said that she knew a couple of young teaching assistants, Grad students like herself, that would cream their panties if they saw me walk through their bedroom doors naked.