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It seemed that once those mechanics all came into play, it was a brief moment. Her clenching passage and the massaging of his balls and the root of his penis brought am almost electric shock and for all the world felt like a sailor in Melvil's "Moby Dick" and wanted to sing out, "Thar' she blows!"
As the first white, hot jet of his climax splattered against the neck of her womb, Travis inserted a finger in her tight anal passage to the knuckle and with the attention upon the bud of her sexuality, Travis felt the jerking, clenching spasm of an orgasm wrack her again.
Both were huffing and puffing to regain their breath, red and sweaty... steamy. They almost crumbled into each other. The strain of sex on their feet left their legs feeling like Jell-O and at this point no one counted the competition of their coupling. They sat with their faces entwined and breathy heaving kisses were the order of the day. Like children who have exhausted themselves playing "king of the hill" they realize that at the end of the game they were both on the hill and thus shared the victory.
They sat for long minutes until the sweat stopped splattering the deck and until their chest stopped heaving to draw in air to quench their need. They sat their until their need to tenderly comfort one another... to console and kiss... were quenched too.
