My Funny Valentine Ch. 02

She had the loosest, most pleasure saturated look I had ever seen. From the placidly smiling lips emerged a quiet, breathless, "Wow." Lifting my head to her level, I leaned in for a kiss, feeling heat and softness on her bee stung lips.

When it ended seconds later, she pulled me into her arms. "I never..." she murmured directly into my ear.

"Never what, sweetheart?"

"Never thought it could feel so...incredible."

I chuckled. "It can only get better."

"H...How?"

"You've only felt my tongue and fingers inside you."

She tightened. "Let's take a bath Joe...unless," she looked at my throbbing manhood. I don't think it had ever been more erect. "Should I...?" she asked reaching down to it and delicately gripping it.

"I can wait," I somehow said.

"Show me how to make you cum," she said, rubbing a little harder. "Why don't you sit and get comfortable."

"Maybe that's best. Right now I'm on a hair trigger."

"Show me, Joe," she said again, bringing my much bigger hand to my cock. "Rub it for me."

"Only if you help," I bargained.

"Okay," she smiled.

"I should grab my lotion," I said while placing my hand on hers, putting more pressure on her rubbing of my cock head.

"What if...What if I made it slippery for you?" illustrating by leaning down and tentatively licking my shaft.

"Ooh," I responded. My cock throbbed.

"I guess you like that idea," she giggled.

"Very much," I said.

She continued licking. "I hope this isn't gross," she said when she placed my glans just below her mouth and let a drop of spit land on it. "I saw it in some porno," she explained, rubbing the wetness over the taut purple head.

"Nothing is gross in sex," I groaned, "if both parties desire it."

She nodded, her eyes attendant on my cock. "Rub it for me, Joe. I want to see how you make yourself cum."

"I will if you will," I suggested.

"You...want me to masturbate in front of you?"

"Fair is fair," I said, grinning.

Returning the grin, she sat back beside me opening her legs wide again.

"Could you hand me your panties?" I asked.

"Why?"

"I got to have something to catch my cum."

"Of course, naughty boy," she smiled.

And thus we began. I watched her wet her fingers in her mouth and begin rubbing her clit and twisting her nipples. She watched me fist my glans and bounce my balls. Occasionally I would release my grip and gently slap or wave my cock.

"Why do you do that?' she asked.

"It delays the inevitable," I tell her. "I want to watch you cum first."

"Let's try cumming together," she suggested. "I'm not far off."

"Okay," I said, grabbing her panties and wrapping my glans in them.

"What are you doing?"

"I like the feel of silk," I shrugged.

"Naughty boy," she giggled.

I watched her get more aggressive with her strokes, pulling her nipples away from her chest with surprising pressure. You can learn a lot watching a girl masturbate.

"Fuck, Joe," she moaned. "Almost..."

I let go of my resistance watching her writhe and blush in pleasure, her adorable face expressively scrunching up.

"Oh God!" I moaned feeling the surge of ejaculation overwhelm me.

"Show me Joe!" she practically screamed as she got shaken as well by an intense orgasm.

I understood, creating a gap between my spouting little cock slit and her panties I caught the semen with.

"Oh wow," she moaned watching the arc of creamy semen spurt out and get caught. "That's so cool."

After the second spurt, the distance lessened, so I covered the rest up with the ever dampening panties. "I guess show time's over," I murmured.

"Good enough," she murmured back with her adorable soft, profoundly satiated grin.

Moments later, after a soft and warm kiss she asked, "Bath time?"

Walking naked hand in hand to the tub, I helped her into the not quite too hot bath water and followed a second later. She occupied my lap while I used a washcloth to clean her. Yes I spent more time cleaning breasts and thighs and the slit between those strong surfaces, but her back, arms, the rest of her legs and her middle torso took attention too, especially since I tended to press deeper than a surface cleansing should have needed, essentially massaging her. It's what she needed.

"Monica told me you rub good," she told me, approving my pressure.

Of course my cock got as hard as ever enjoying her sensuous, exquisite curves. She managed to encourage it with squirming that became more and more directional, more of a fucking motion over the top of it, her lips squishing with ever more slippery contact back and forth.

By the time I finished cleaning/massaging her right hand, her left hand already done, I had covered all but her calves and feet. "I want you to fuck me," she said, her rubbing of my cock having become more intense, "but I've heard water isn't the best lubricant."

"You heard right, sweetheart," I said, suckling at her neck. "Let's switch places first so I can finish."

"Then I can clean you, too," she agreed.

We stood and carefully negotiated the narrow space until I lowered onto my bottom and she sat behind me. I could feel her wet (from her own lubricant) pussy press hotly against my coccyx as is if it were there for her stimulation. Her legs wrapped around my waist to enable the contact. Her feet ended up in my lap, arches wrapped around my pole.

When I removed one from its pleasurable contact in order to complete the washing/massage on the calves, feet and toes, the other remained pressing my cock against my thigh. Meanwhile she washed my back. She used pressure too like I had and it felt soothing and relieving.

By the time I finished with one set of toes and began working her other calf, her pressure lessened, the cleaning became more leisurely and distracted. "I feel so relaxed I could pass out," she told me in a dulcet tone I could barely hear.

I chuckled, explaining, "Reflexology, the massage of the foot does that."

With the end of the second foot massage, she murmured, "I can barely move I'm so relaxed."

Standing, I helped her to her feet and we made a bit of a mess on the kitchen floor rinsing off our bodies with the hand-held sprayer before I helped her out of the bath and toweled her off. She toweled me off too, but with a lot less effort, though she did manage to get my rigid shaft extremely dry.

Leaving the towels on the floor to absorb the wetness we had created, I led Jill to the bed.

"Lie down Joe," she ordered me gently. When I did, I found a delightful sight hover above my eyes and slowly lower. She had straddled my head and brought her pussy to my lips.

Intoxicated by everything about her, the shape of her backside, the taste of her quim, the heat of it surrounding my tongue and the texture, the pleasure I took from her became secondary to the feeling of my cock engulfed in wet heat.

"Jill," I moaned.

"Mmm," she buzzed around my cock.

"Oh my God," I responded.

I heard a sort of giggle and felt it even more.

Too tentative to be expert, she still found a way to make her first foray into fellatio an incredible experience. She had learned I liked her tongue and had seen I preferred my glans and its edges for excitation. So lips caressed those edges while her tongue lavished its texture against the glans. Her mouth lifted off and she fisted me like I had fisted myself earlier. "A little harder," I told her, my only needed instruction. She even bounced my balls with gentle care as I had done.

I expressed my appreciation for her fine work by deep sweeping tongue work, hard suckling and tongue dances on her clit and squeezing her deliciously muscled butt cheeks.

Just after she began to undulate, she ended her cocksucking and my pussy sucking, shifting her body towards the foot of the bed until she straddled my cock and lowered herself onto it, continuing to face away from me.

Her pussy opened to my big cock reluctantly from its portal lips to its deepest depths. Only the slipperiness of her abundant natural lubrication, my saliva added to it, could ease the journey. And it was a lengthy journey, inching in a little further before lifting off a bit. But finally, when my glans felt the pressure of her cervix, it ended.

"You okay?" I managed to say through my gasp as her butt cheeks pressed against my pelvis.

"So full," she moaned. "So good."

"I'm glad," I said.

"Me too," she giggled, which I felt in rippling squeezes around my cock. My laugh must have had similar results, because she moaned.

Then she began her ride, at first slow, but with ever increasing speed. I felt like I'd gone to heaven if heaven consists of unadulterated ecstasy.

"You're safe?' I managed to ask.

"Unh-hunh. The pill," she told me.

As she started to wind into a gallop I asked her, "I want to see you."

"Later," she moaned.

When my hips lifted to meet her downward strokes, she moaned, "Can you keep still?"

"I'll try," I said. She giggled within her moan and rode me even faster.

I couldn't see exactly, but the way the muscles on her shoulders played and the bend of her elbows I figured she helped her pleasure as she had when masturbating by pulling on her nipples and rubbing her clit.

This time was different though. She kept silent albeit with loud panting. Finally she spoke with a tight high voice, "Cum for me, Joe," and bounced faster than I thought possible.

Somehow keeping still had brought me more pleasure than if I'd participated in the fucking. It made me feel every moment of tight friction against my cock. And when I let my balls release their built up sperm I nearly passed out from the intensity of pure pain/pleasure bliss.

"Fuck," I roared.

She remained silent as she pressed hard against me, my spurts splashing directly against her cervix which seemed to convulse from the hosing as did those tight walls surrounding my throbbing cock. They rippled around me, milking me with a passion. I could see her gorgeous backside undulate as if a physical manifestation of waves of pleasure cascading through her body from bottom to top and back down.

She eventually collapsed forward with me still attached inside her, her breasts pressed most delightfully against my knees. From that position, my penis finally emerged from its new favorite home along with a stream of liquid drowning my balls.

"Jill?" I said, tentatively rubbing her sweat slickened back.

"It was good, Joe," she said quietly to my feet.

Turning around, revealing a ravishing smile, a smile of ravishment, she slinked across the landscape of my six feet six body with feline sensuality until her face hovered above mine.

"In fact it was fucking awesome," she roared lower pitched than I'd ever heard; her eyes intense, a lioness ready to pounce upon her prey. This cute feline creature with feral abandon feasted on my lips with hers.

"What's this about?" I asked minutes later when our lips separated. My fingers combed through her sweat dampened hair and hers combed through mine.

"Later, Joe," she said with a wry grin. "Could you read me a poem?"

"A poem?"

"A love poem preferably. Do you write those?"

"Okay," I shrugged.

"Cool." She rolled onto her side.

Switching on the desk light that also served as my reading light in bed caused both of us to flinch a moment, but our eyes soon recovered. I knelt in front of my two drawer metal cabinet and searched through the manila file folders until I chose one of the many unpublished manuscripts and pulled it out, placing it on my desk. Thumbing through the pages brought me to the poem.

I pulled the large pillow under my shoulder when I returned to bed. Jill covered us with the sheet and the quilt I used to keep warm at night and rested her head against my chest and the right half of her body against my side. I recited:

Reverberant Love

Don't make me free of it

Let me see you alit

The magnificent you I know

With your inner glow

When I see you pass me by again

I want you to see through my eye my friend

The way it never lets you go

You have that inner glow

I cannot escape the thrill of you

The absolute chill of you

Makes me shiver in delight

You are the highlight of my life

Not to be free of what, you ask

What do you want from this task

You hold me to

Free of knowing you

You see I'm bereft of one

Without you I have none

Who bestows upon me grace

An inner glow lights your face

It's like I'm lonely in a crowd

Because none are so endowed

With that beatific light

That lights the darkest night

I'm dependant on your soul

To share and make me whole

With you we are one

Without you I am none

How can you be so sure

My presence will be your cure

It's your heart light that guides me

Your inner glow lets me see

Your beauty vibrates a tone

For me and me alone

Who else can hear that toll

Only my ear only my soul

Who else can see you shine

Above and beyond mankind

Your inner being glows

It's only for me it shows

We had our time however mundane

We shared a bed now you're insane

Insisting you only you for me

Reasoning quite unreasonably

Oh baby oh baby don't walk away

In my arms you should always stay

Gods have spoken they have shown me your light

A shiny beacon in darkest night

Oh baby oh baby you're my angel alone

Why else do you glow and the rest look like stone

Let's talk it over, let's get a room

Where'd she go, oh, she joined the gloom

"That's no love poem. That's obsession. And more lyrics than poetry at that," Jill critiqued with a giggle. "Who was it?"

"The dancer," I answered. "I actually thought she glowed. And I don't usually rhyme and my language is much...uh...thicker I guess usually."

"Can I have another?" she asked me cutely so I had to obey, getting up and grabbing another poem from the same file, deciding to grab a second one at the last second, and returning to lie in the same place with her lying against my side again.

"Here's one more similar to my usual style with a similar name called Reverberant," I said and recited.

She danced with the night immersed

Enclosed she danced within its body

That held the twinkling stars she danced

With them amongst them against them she

Danced to the rhythm and counterpoint

Night clung to her even as she danced

Even as she swept through it it held

Tight against her skin holding even

As it held the many points of distant

Lights moving her even movements

Points of the evening netting where

Strings converge where the strings

Are a fabric where night abandons

Light where she dances not a tangle

Of threads but the web she wears

While dancing with and within night

Yet that absence of light within which

She danced contrasted with her presence

Which exuded inner heat she appeared

Bright, aglow, with the moon her aura

The moon a part of the net of night

A part that hung behind her head an

Angel glow a part of Renaissance

Iconography the glow showed

Beatitude or the woman set apart

From others and that is what I saw

When I saw her that inner glow

Made manifest I saw her glow cast

In contrast to the night it shined

So brilliant it etched into my mind

"It ended up rhyming in the end," she giggled. "Same topic, different outcome though. You two could still be lovers."

"Or I sat in awe of her, finding her unapproachable."

"It does seem more of a love poem though," she decided. "Another one?"

"I came prepared this time," I smiled. "This one's neither about love nor obsession."

"So what's it about?"

"Lust. And it's even more typical of my writing."

Along way away from saying I love you

The absence of mirth is only incidental because so far no instance

Of commingling not yet only a glance out the side of my eye

To see you strolling beside your lover with you flexing thighs

And the most crowning of asses above them swaying and hungry

For my cock to jam inside and jam you all up with your own

Slick wetness makes it easy as I push and press and thrust into your

Deep cunt the lips and tunnel of it luxurious throbbing flexing

Giving and taking with the most abundant pleasure imaginable

Jiggling what's above the large almost loose but somehow taut breasts

Swaying to the motion of the journey inside of my most happy cock

Appreciating all friction of your interior ever tight and tightening cunt

And the throbbing and the heat and the wet and the sobs of pleasure

Racketing the air making it subject to the powers of sex within its lair

Watching your stomach rising at each thrust making more room

As I hunt for the end of the cave and maybe what's beyond inside

The egg lab coiled up just beyond my tip the entrance for my cum

To trip inside and slide into the embattled egg popping it silently

Until some time after the explosion is at least a hint a cycle cue

For further developments but there is no meeting likely of egg and

my sperm what with the most dependable of contraceptive devices

Pure (so to speak) imagination that never exists in the world really

"Mmm, a dirty poem," she giggled softly.

"For some reason I've been writing more of those," I replied.

"It's because you're a naughty boy," she murmured, barely heard. Soon after her breath steadied in sleep.

I kissed her cute forehead and thought about my Valentine's Day and the night following it and sighed contentedly before thought became disintegrated by sleep.

...to be continued...