Refillable: No Expiration, No Limit

"Anyhow, that summer, between ninth and tenth grades, our parish got a three-month visiting priest named Father Philip. He was about forty or so, and the most insanely gorgeous hunk you've ever seen. All the teenage girls – and their MOTHERS too, believe me! - were ga-ga, including yours truly. He flirted outrageously with me, but only in absolute private."

"Then one day he took me aside and asked if I'd like to come to a special evening confirmation class he would be holding. But I had to get parental permission. Getting that was easy. When I showed up, it turned out – how odd! - to be a one-student class. Just me and him. In the church basement. Within ten minutes he basically attacked me - propositioned me in no uncertain terms. And then when I wasn't sure – believe me, with my level of horniness and naïveté and crush on him, he could have convinced me easily with a more genteel approach – and when I clearly didn't know what to do or how to do it to please him, and when I backed away in panic he went physical and got abusive."

"He wasn't stupid about the physical stuff – there was no hitting, just rough shaking and grabbing and the like. But the whole scene scared the unholy hell out of me. Especially the emotional abuse ... he actually YELLED at me, Father Philip the personal representative of God Almighty on Earth, telling me how I was a complete shit, stupid, unfeeling, totally unworthy both sexually and in terms of faith. Told me in gory detail how I was going straight to hell because I was simply too damned dumb to understand what my duty was to him and the Church. That's what he actually said – my DUTY to the Church was to fuck HIM! The incredible S.O.B.!"

She was shivering at the memories. Kelvin said nothing, just folded her in his arms and hugged her hard. Heather was amazed at how naturally she snuggled into his embrace: it was extremely comfortable. Finally she said into his neck "I did escape, minus my technical virginity. He got into me for a few seconds, but at least he had the sense to come on my belly instead of inside. That little donation to his cause did nothing whatever to dampen his outrage. God knows how many other girls he approached. And probably the mothers as well. Maybe boys, too – I suspect all Catholic priests may be all-purpose perverts. Somehow I managed to avoid him completely from then until he left – presumably he went off to prey on others."

She shrugged: "There were plenty of long-term consequences for me. I never did get up the courage to actually date. Never, not in high school, not in college. But I quickly trained myself to be both the ultimate intellectual nerd, and a ridiculous flirt. I'd get things going good and then draw away without leaving too much bad feeling. At least I hope not too much. I guess that pretty much makes me a semi-professional prick-tease, doesn't it? Sorry – it's really and truly not meant that way."

He squeezed her. "Madam, you most certainly didn't treat ME like that at the party. If you'd been a prick-tease, I'd have left you almost instantly. As you might recall, that didn't happen! So - did I miss something in your behavior? I can be pretty y-chromosome dense at times."

She shook her head, reddened slightly. "No, you didn't miss anything. I did NOT treat you in my usual manner. That's not just an oddity – I believe it's a first! And ever since the party I've been wondering why. I think I have an idea, now." She looked at him with wide-eyed sincerity, and the way he looked back, right into the depths of her soul, captivated her.

She kept on: "I don't think I've ever been so comfortable with a man, especially in a situation like this. Of course, I really haven't been IN many situations like this. None, actually. It's rather nice." She smiled wanly at him: "Scary as hell, though, when I let my brain go!"

Kelvin kissed her once more, lightly: "Don't be scared, Heather. I like you a lot, and I never bite... unless and until I am asked to do so and shown where to do it!"

Her imagination was in full swing: she giggled.

He went on; "Well, an obvious question is, are you gay? Or do you think maybe you are? Not necessarily by nature, but I understand that sometimes an experience like that can push a woman away from males and into female companionship and relationships."

She shook her head, got pinker. "No – but here come more true confessions, Kelvin - I did, just once, go to bed with two of my girl-friends who are sixes on the 'homosexual' scale – absolutely and completely gay. We played around, an experiment, and I managed a couple of girl-girl orgasms for myself – they were sort of mechanical but okay, just no emotional content. We all decided I'm not oriented that way, and can't be."

"What about your daydreams and such?"

She glanced up at him shyly, buried her face against his neck again. "Oh, all that is entirely hetero. In spite of that priest problem, it seems I'm fixated on men, just don't know what to do or how to go about pursuing the interest. After all, I did sort of miss out on the usual teenage training exercises – thanks to my upbringing and that damned priest. Anyway, men fascinate me, attract me, and scare the bejeezus out of me, all at once, hence the party-time flirt-and-run routine. I suppose it's merely our basic organismal biology poking through the reaction and the fear. So - it's men only for my fantasies."

There was a long pause during which she went almost beet red, then her imp urged her on and she continued softly; "For instance, Kelvin, YOU are perfectly fine daydream material - in fact, you're already well-used! Of course, without a lot of experience, I can't generate much detail, but the little fantasies are pretty explicit in spite of that."

"You know, Kelvin, before Father Philip came along, I was the masturbation queen of the universe. I can't remember when I started – maybe before I was six? – and don't remember how many times I would do it in a day, but even as a little kid it could be a bunch. Quick and easy and often. But after that priest, for almost four years I couldn't even THINK about it, much less actually do anything, not even a touch. Thanks a lot, Father and Church!"

She took his head in her hands and pulled him into a long, deep kiss. "Thanks for listening. I needed to talk about all that with someone. I'm amazed at myself, that I chose you, a man... some part of my brain must think you're pretty special." She tilted her head, winked at him: "That is not a 'maybe' – I guarantee it. And not just part of the brain, the whole thing. Anyhow, I've only told some girlfriends, never my parents and never a man. And, Kelvin..."

She looked sideways at him, her expression gone different, extraordinarily alluring. "...just so you have all the relevant data, I finally DID recover my pre-priest abilities, several years ago. I may even have improved."

Her imp exhaled: it'd done all it could, the ball was now in Kelvin's court. She waited, wondering.

Despite the discussion being so serious, her nipples had erected, making hidden-pebble bumps through the yoga-shirt's lycra. He dropped his eyes to ogle them conspicuously: "I don't see any signs of inability or inexperience here... or any symptom of inherent fragility. Or of long-term priestly damage. Hope I'm right!"

He took a chance, wiped the balls of his thumbs delicately across the bumps, got a huge and satisfying shudder, but no rejection.

She just studied her internal lightning flashes, bit her lip, kept her eyes focused on his.

"Everything here seems to be in perfect working order. Bet your pussy is drizzling wet right now, isn't it?"

She went bright pink, managed to nod. It certainly was!

Then he asked "So, may I do another quick little test to be sure these lovely nipples are working right?"

Heart thundering, she gave permission with her eyes. From the mental sidelines, her imp applauded as Kelvin's thumbs added pressure to the slow stroking. The nipple-lightning increased dramatically. Then he bent his head, nibbled gently at each little nylon-covered bump with his teeth, settled his face atop one breast, sucked the nipple far back into his mouth, rolled and nursed. Odd how the nylon failed to interfere with sensation-production! She was sure at least part of her brain had just exploded. Her deep involuntary sigh told them both all they needed to know.

A few seconds of strong suckling, and Kelvin lifted his head. "It's too bloody public here, Lady H. We've been incredibly lucky about having the place so much to ourselves. If you can postpone breakfast, and if you are of a mind to, I suggest we adjourn to somewhere more private. Your place or mine – but I suspect you'd be more comfortable in your own space. But ONLY if you want that sort of company. I can be a pushy fellow, but here I don't mean to be applying any pressure. Really, I don't. Anyhow, if we go to your room, I promise not to be an ass. Believe it or not, I can and I do take NO for an answer. At any point in the process. After all, it's your body and your emotions on the line."

She bit her lip, feeling like a cat failing to decide between two alternative birds. She studied his face carefully, decided she really did like what she saw, that she really did – for some unknowable reason – believe and trust him. She nodded, said quietly "It's very nice of you to think about that. Yes – my room. And with this butt and these thighs, I certainly can do without one day's breakfast. Or survive a delayed one." Now her feeling morphed: a first-jump parachutist, standing at the door. An urgent need not to lose the moment, the momentum of whatever was underway. Her imp was screaming "JUMP, DAMMIT!"

What she said was, "Shall we leave NOW?"

They stood, put on their robes: Kelvin picked up his shaving kit. As they exited the room, she glanced at his crotch: his obvious hardon made her smile with a subtle self-satisfaction. Hell's bells, YES of course she'd happily shoulder the blame if blame were to be parceled out! What a hoot – she could actually do such a thing to this lovely man... and apparently get away with it! What an ego-boost!

There was nobody else in the hall. She pushed the elevator button, then turned to face him and hugged him hard, full-frontal, blatantly fondling his lumpy crotch with her belly. "You have a problem, sorry about that! A big, hard problem!" 'OMiGawd' she told herself – 'KIDDO, you are REALLY in the deep end now! Why?'

He replied, "WHAT problem? If that bulge weren't there, THAT would be a problem! And what's to be sorry about, anyhow? It's not an injury, and it's only semi-permanent!" She giggled, squeezed his hand.

Her room was on 43. At 12 the elevator stopped, interrupting their necking. Two elderly ladies got on, apparently twins, and punched the penthouse button – floor 60. He'd closed his robe, but his 'problem' was still obvious, and quite public, given the fully-mirrored elevator interior. He and Heather stood quietly at the rear: the ladies tried to be discreet, but their flickering eyes showed that they hadn't remained ignorant. A tiny smile seemed to be trying to escape one lady's control all the way to 43.

The door opened, the ladies stood aside politely, and as Kelvin and Heather stepped out, the almost-smiler said cheerily "Now you two go have yourselves a really NICE morning, y'hear?" As the door finished shutting behind them, they heard the other lady say, sotto voce, "Oh my god YES, I suspect they will!"

They stopped outside Heather's door: Kelvin took her by the shoulders, felt her trembling slightly. "Entirely your choice, M'Lady. I want to come in there with you, and to do all sorts of wonderful things together, but it's YOUR CHOICE. If you do decide to invite me in, I'll make sure you don't regret a single second of our time together. But I'll also understand if the answer is NO. After all, we can be friends without necessarily being lovers. Although that's NOT my idea of the best outcome!"

She thanked him for his thoughtfulness, kissed him, heard her imp mutter "If not now, then when and with whom?" and opened the door. Inside, he handed her the "Do Not Disturb" sign: she nodded, and hung it on the outer handle, then shut and locked the door.

They stood in the entry, shed their robes, and kissed again for several minutes, nonstop. She could actually feel his heart beating: it was simultaneously comforting and exciting. Finally Heather said, breathlessly, "Come on over here. To the bed." Her heart was going double his rate – she could feel hers racing, and wondered in passing what her blood pressure was, dismissed it as irrelevant. He leaned down and retrieved his kit-bag, tossed it onto the nightstand. A couple of steps from the bed Kelvin stopped, cupped her chin in his hand, kissed her again, and said "We have to be a little practical, just momentarily. Some logistics. Contraception?"

"All is okay. I've been on the pill for years – for cramps – and besides, it's exactly my safest time right now. Double protection. But thank you for asking." Obviously, she told herself internally, I've made up my mind. How come I didn't know it until now?

Her imp nodded gleefully.

He cupped a breast, fondled the nipple through the fabric until she sighed. Then he asked with the slyest grin, "So, where's your vibrator?"

The question was so much out of the blue that for a second she could only gape at him in surprise. Then she flushed her most brilliant crimson yet: "How do you know I have one at all? Much less here?"

He shrugged, grinned at her. "Any woman who likes to masturbate the way you described simply wouldn't leave home without one. A lady couldn't abandon her best friend, could she? And I personally approve of such toys – wholeheartedly! Great for couples."

"FOR COUPLES!?" she thought? Egad! She couldn't imagine... or could she? YES, in fact, she COULD – and how!

She giggled, pointed. "You're right, of course! It's under the pillow, all plugged in and ready to go. Just to be sure you don't get a swelled head and think I was expecting to be here with you like this, that's NOT why it's plugged in. Last night I couldn't sleep. Mister V helps." She paused, stretched up to kiss him, brazenly slid a hand down to cup his hardon. "And if we're being honest, I should tell you I lay there for a long time daydreaming about this morning – anticipating being with you and doing our yoga. I wasn't sure exactly what else I was expecting, but just you remember, I told you I have a very active and inventive imagination. Dreaming about you. About US in fact... being here together. I really didn't get much sleep."

He laughed delightedly. "Such a compliment! Thank you! But I sure do hope you didn't exhaust your resources..."

She shook her head, squeezed his cock, shook it gently. "Not a chance, M'sieur. Not a chance! Those resources are guaranteed fully renewable"

Kelvin suggested that it was time to get naked – but not in any hurry. Heather almost panicked again – but, her imp insisted logically, this was the direction things simply had to go, wasn't it? Everything was proceeding nicely, wasn't that true? Even with her imp's reassurances, she unexpectedly found herself deeply shy again, tongue-tied, actually unable to move.

He noticed at once, and gently took the lead with a suggestion: "How about you take off that top? But go nice and slow, Madam! This is one time when you can be a bit of a tease without worrying about it. Please?"

She gripped the hem, pulled it upwards at a deliciously slow pace. As her face disappeared into the forming tunnel of inside-out shirt, the bra caught her breasts and tugged them upwards, exposing their under-creases.

"Stop! I need to check something out..." He leaned forward, ran his lips and tongue along the length of each crease, and noted with intense satisfaction the swarms of goosebumps unleashed by the touches.

"Nice! Beautiful, really. Go ahead now –- but dead slow!"

It was helpful to have him giving directions – she could hardly commit a faux pas that way, could she!? She tugged: suddenly the bra slipped free and her unrestrained breasts popped out, dropped, bounced just once.

"Stop again!"

She complied, the neck-hole of the top now caught under her chin, her underarms fully exposed. She giggled from inside her fabric cone, at the same time wondering why being so buried in this cloth, completely blinded and literally helpless, didn't spin up her panic level the way earlier, less fraught things had? She was indeed a mystery to herself!

He stared – they were gorgeous. He guessed at least a C-cup, probably a 38 or 39. Her bust counterbalanced her bottom perfectly. He told her truthfully that she had the most beautiful tits he'd ever seen in real life, then leaned forward to mouth each nipple in turn: they were sensitive to an extreme - large and mature, the size and texture of new-picked baby raspberries, and almost hot. His ministrations raised more armies of bumplets.

A fragment of his mind busied itself with descriptive nonsense... would he say these beauties had a perfect hang to them? Or would it be more accurate to say that they stood up proudly? Both applied. Their curves, their overall shape and texture, were utterly superb. Kelvin liked boobs regardless of configuration, but these were special - she would pass the pencil test easily with her arms up, yet just barely fail it with them down, a rarity. He described his observations and his feelings, and then had to explain the test. She snorted in mild amusement, and accepted the analysis as the compliment it was intended to be.

Then he suckled, and simultaneously dragged fingernails through the smooth dampness of her pits. When her wriggles made it clear that the pit-attention was more than merely welcome, he cupped her breasts in his palms, then licked and nibbled his way across both armpits, practically making love to every square inch of surface.

From inside the shirt, she asked in a vaguely worried tone, "Kelvin! Shouldn't that wait until after we take our shower?"

He replied with his mouth full: "Nope! That may be quite a while, and there's nothing sexier than a naked woman all drenched in clean sweat. I wouldn't change what I have right here and now for anything I can think of. Now be quiet and let me concentrate!"

By the time he let her finish removing the top she was dancing from foot to foot like a pee-needy little boy in a movie theater's ticket-line.

He raised his arms overhead: she got the hint. His shirt came off quickly. She ran her hands over his chest, told him how glad she was that he wasn't a 'hairy bear' – and then was disappointed when her own nipple-nibbling proved so much less arousing than had his.

Kelvin straightened them both up, pulled her naked chest against his, and cupped her buttocks in both hands, pressing her fiercely into his crotch. She clutched him just as firmly in her arms, whispered "That feels really good!" – and then dropped her hands to HIS butt and reciprocated. Such physical forwardness had never occurred to her before – now, it felt like the only proper course of action.

He sat back slowly onto the bed, pulled her forward by his buttock-grip so she stood between his wide-spread knees. "You might take off my shorts now – if you wish."

Her imp crowed at her: "Moment of Truth, Heather!" She shushed it, an odd calm descending over her. She could be in charge of her own destiny now, she didn't need the imp's further aid, much less its encouragement – at least not for the moment and more likely forever! Things were all bright, clear, perfectly focused – and proceeding in slow-motion, too. Perhaps they were correct, those philosophers who say that we create our own realities? No hesitation now.

She knelt, took hold, tugged. He lifted his butt and the shorts slid off easily until his erection caught, levered the fabric up like a tent-pole. She tugged more firmly, harder still, until the rod finally snapped free and whapped solidly against his belly. She eyed it warily for a moment, then grinned and giggled, finished the removal.