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His hands were on the bare flesh of her hips, gently fondling them, as she felt his kisses on the fabric of the thong itself. She could feel his hot breath, urgent and ragged, through the material. She twisted, almost to avoid the unbearably tantalizing kisses, but the kisses seemed to pursue her. And then the kisses were falling on the sensitive flesh of the inside of her right thigh, and the kiss was tracing the thong fabric.
Most mornings, Pippa engaged in self-gratification. Over the years, she had trained her naturally responsive body into peak orgasmic condition. Employing a combination of erotic literary web sites and a vast array of sex toys, Pippa enjoyed perfunctory orgasms, quick orgasms, slow orgasms, multiple orgasms, and -- rarely -- orgasms as delicious and fulfilling as a warm cinnamon bun with coffee at Cafe du Monde. But what an irony. On this particular morning, Pippa had slept late and neglected that particular morning ritual. Thus, Pippa had no defense against the passion incited by the encounter with Spencer, and the situation had gotten out of control with astounding rapidity.
As Pippa writhed, the taunting kisses pursued her relentlessly. As she flinched from one particularly pleasurable kiss, Spencer would move with her, and Pippa began to moan. It was late afternoon, and Pippa needed her first orgasm of the day. This need was beginning to overtake other priorities, and Pippa began to wish that Spencer would simply tear off her thong and assist her to an initial orgasm to lessen the tension. But Spencer seemed to be in no hurry. The pace of the kisses seemed measured, almost as if he knew that delaying her first orgasm would make her want a second.
Though he was obviously hanging on to his self-control, Pippa was on the verge of losing hers. She began to tremble violently with the advent of her orgasm, and responsively, Spencer grabbed her hips and held them steady as she tumbled over the edge. The sensation took total possession of her and she felt waves of pleasure wash over her, threatening to drown any lingering reservations about her neighbor. She surrendered herself to the feeling.
The rain beating on the windows echoed the pounding of her pulse as her breath gradually slowed to normal. She opened her eyes just in time to see Spencer grasp the strings of her side-tied bikini with his teeth and, with an excruciating slowness, draw it out of the bow in which she'd tied it. How, she wondered, had she just had so powerful experience while remaining fully if scantily clothed?
But it was all just a prelude to the afternoon of the soft, almost fawning kisses falling upon her thighs. A short time later, as Pippa undulated in the cowgirl position, moaning softly, she began to feel that April was not the cruellest month after all. She felt his hands reaching up to tease her nipples, and felt the stimulation withdraw. His hands trailed down her sides. Then she felt his hands, large and strong, gently clasping her hips and rocking her tan, toned body.
Indeed, she was grateful it was toned, for the ensuing positions in which she found herself for the next few hours would have tested the athletic stamina of Larissa Latynina. There was the Winged Eros, the Crazy Criss Cross, the Rainbow Arch, and positions one through eight of the Perfumed Garden. When, finally, both the rain, Pippa, and Spencer were spent, she could only hope that the local Neighborhood Watch had been taking a hiatus.
