Sudden Encounter

She had actually COME, just from this nipple-attention - hadn't she? If not, it was so close as to beg the question. And she had yet to do anything for HIM. Finally she moved one hand, found his cock. Just as hard as ten minutes ago, it showed no distress from lack of personal attention - which, she thought, boded very, very well indeed. And if only he had made the motions, taken the tiniest bit of initiative, she would have kissed him mouth-to-open-mouth with all the lustful fury that had built up inside her over the years. But she had imposed today's rule on herself. The experiment was running full-tilt now, both reactor vessels were at operating temperature and pressure, but even so it wasn't quite kissing-time yet. With 'yet' the important word.

At length, Danny lifted his face from her chest, muttering "Delicious. But we have other fish to fry as well. It's YOUR afternoon... but if you don't think I'm enjoying myself, well..." He twanged his cock, making it slap against his belly. She grinned at him, nodded lazily through her heated haze.

He stood beside the bed, cock waving proudly, reached down and rolled her over on her stomach. Face down, she lay there, slightly taut and nervous, wondering. Not a matter of trust, because that had been resolved, more a sense of anxious urgent curiosity. She felt him kneel beside her, then straddle her calves. His body-heat radiated down onto her ankles: he was near, very near indeed, but not yet touching.

Then there was a tiny pop and the scent of almonds filled the air as he opened the blue squeeze bottle. His hands on her shoulder-blades, slippery with oil. No other touches. Isolated, no rush, no hurry. She sighed, began to relax again. Backrub! Strong hands, he had, and gentle. Quite knowing, obviously experienced.

She settled back into her puddle of sensuality as the fingertips and palms cycled firmly over her shoulders, worked the back of her neck, then down her spine one vertebra at a time. Now he was settling downwards, some part of him was rubbing gently against the backs of her thighs as he worked the oil down her back, hands cupping her buttocks now, solidly. She was surprised at how little she was worrying about the situation. Trust increasing, a good thing - wonderful.

Thumbs digging firmly into the dimples of her buttocks, searching, finding little tensions, relaxing them. She sighed again, wiggled her feet slightly and studied the sensations. It was obviously his balls that were dangling against her ankles. They dragged over her heels as he moved lower, now working firmly on her legs, the backs of her thighs. The hard warmth of his cock waggled gently against the backs of her heels. She wondered about him - she wasn't touching him, he wasn't touching himself, yet he was hard as a rock, obviously ready for action, but he made no urgent signs of needing to proceed to more stridently sexual activities.

More oil, even wider areas of slippery. She expected him to slide his fingers up between her legs to her pussy -which didn't need any of his oil! She waited for that contact, not quite fearing it, not quite eager for it yet paradoxically practically screaming for it.

But it didn't come, not yet anyhow, and she found herself moderately disappointed. He was being awfully gentlemanly. Phooey, perhaps? Hands on her calves now, kneading, then one foot at a time, squeezing, caressing, making tingles flow mightily. Fingers in between her toes with more oil. He was GOOD at this.

How would she reciprocate? She decided to worry about that later.

Now Danny was leaning forward again, his hands went back to her shoulders, all his upper-body weight on her. It felt nice to hold him up this way. She playfully raised her feet, caught his cock between her insteps. He gasped, tightened momentarily: that was good! She fondled his hardness with her feet, rolling the tube between her ankle-bones, studying it with her big toes. He was REALLY hard! That was also a good thing - it meant that whatever her self-doubts were, they didn't count here, he wasn't putting her on when he said she was attractive to him. Otherwise why this reaction? Prima-facie proof, Your Honor! Gently, she paddled her toes against his hanging ball-sac. He made appreciative murmurs. She almost giggled.

His hands were on her buttocks again, he was spreading them wide, opening her crack to his unobstructed view. Goose bumps running over her buttocks and thighs, she wondered if he could see them, decided of course he could. Being this exposed, she discovered instantly, was monumentally exciting. He must be able to see everything she had down there! None of her other men had ever seemed very interested in using their eyes. Which hadn't helped her self-image one whit! It had pretty much been cocks or nothing with them...idiots!

She wished she could see his face, watch him studying her. Maybe later?

Danny's weight shifted: there was warm breath between her buttocks, and it was her turn to gasp as he flexed his hands, gripped her buttocks and spread them wide, fixed his mouth gently, firmly over her anus, cycled his tongue around the edge, then penetrated her strongly, driving and wriggling his way quite deep. She was astounded at her utterly spontaneous reaction: her hips flexed upwards involuntarily, like a cat in heat, as the tongue-tip became a living little flame inside her, igniting flares of excitement where she would never have dreamt they could exist... she knew from hearsay and others' personal testimony that many women were exquisitely sensitive anally, but she'd never in the least suspected that of herself! Then the tongue was gone and he was scooting forward. His cock pulled free of her foot-grasp with a clearly-felt twang: she even heard it slap gently against his belly.

He inched forward, his oily cock sliding along the junction of her legs, his hands were on her shoulders again, kneading, stretching. She felt vaguely guilty that her hands were just lying there beside her, but couldn't work up the will to do anything with them. Later, later - she was accumulating so MUCH to do "later"!

The cockhead pressed into the cross of inner thighs and buttocks-creases. He leaned forward ever so slowly. Both of his hands were still massaging, it was as if his cock had eyes of its own, it was quite certain where it was going, wasn't it, this cock of Mister Danny's?

She made tiny adjustments with her hips to encourage it, ease its way. She felt the little muscle movements in his legs as he sought her opening. She was as wet as she had ever been, she could feel that from inside.

Then he was slipping into her pussy, slowly, delicately, taking possession of her as if he had been there hundreds of times before and knew exactly what she liked and needed. Or was it more HER taking possession of HIM? Maybe it didn't matter - it was mutual, surely.

He filled her quite nicely, solid, hot, comfortable. He didn't move, just rested there soaking in her warmth, as if studying this new environment, as if allowing her pussy and his cock to make one another's detailed acquaintance. She thought back over her last lover, the one she had been counting days since, and realized that if this had been him, he would long ago have finished his dozen quick thrusts, exploded, and would now be lying beside her, gasping, partly embarrassed, partly testosterone-proud of himself, and totally self-satisfied but without any reason to be.

Danny's approach was distinctly better, no doubt! His hands were still busy. She studied the sensations where their sexes joined. Having him inside and motionless was interesting: certainly it was sensual, erotic... but the feeling of comfort, of rightness, was what she found both strongest and strangest. And BEST! How could she be so emotionally comfortable deep into such incredible physical intimacy with a near-perfect stranger? There was blinding sensuality, too, but it didn't center in their mated groins. No, the sensuality was in his fingers and palms as they worked delicate magic on the base of her skull and the back edges of her armpits, the sensitive skin behind each ear. It was in the way her buttocks fit so perfectly into his fore-crotch, how his inner thighs clasped her butt-cheeks, and in how the soles of his feet were caressing her outer calves and her Achilles tendons. God but he was a sensory delight, this man!

Settled snugly inside her, he finally began to move. It was a dance. Together they established a gentle rhythm. She felt as if she were doing a physical Bolero, imperceptible gains in pace and intensity, subtle changes of rhythm that sneaked up on her. Every stroke was an individually crafted thing, a mutual project. She was going to implode like a black hole, utterly and completely disintegrate eventually, she could feel it in the air, in her innermost belly-quiverings.

But it was going to be a long time coming, and that was NOT a bad thing.

She slid her hands down her sides to lay her palms atop his thighs, feeling the muscles working beneath his skin, studying the slight roughness of his fine blond leg-hairs against her fingertips. His legs moved milliseconds before she could feel the resulting wiggles of his cock inside her.

Then he was taking her hand, guiding her fingers, and she circled the shaft as it slid to and fro, greasy with the oil and her secretions. God almighty but she was wet! It was genuinely hot, wasn't it, this cock of his. Of THEIRS! Their personal, individual body-heats blended together. Nice.

He startled her when he took her finger, set its tip against her anus, pressed it inside. "Go deep and you'll feel how we fit together!" he whispered. She did - it was marvelous, being inside herself in the velvety, unexpectedly sensual space there, feeling his cock sliding into her pussy, separated from her fingertip by a millimeter of her own tissues, transmitting oh-so-clearly the ridge of the head as it went by, cycling in and out.

Now he was whispering instructions again, they were rolling over, carefully, a wild, slow-motion tangle of legs and arms and giggles, until she was spread-eagled on her back beneath him and they never lost contact, she had remained wrapped around his cock perfectly. NOW she could see his face, and it delighted her. He was so clearly pleased with what he saw!

His hands cupped her breasts, and she dissolved again. Then he was sliding out, pulling away, one hand still on her tit, playing a tattoo on her nipple's nerves, the other joining his face as he buried his head between her thighs. She sighed and gasped, dissolving into a deep, gurgling whimper. So this was what her girlfriends were always talking about, yearning for, crazy over, was it? Mouth, lips, tongue, teeth, fingers, nose, chin... he combined them all. The tiny stubble on his lower lip electrified the underside of her clit, and it was clearly intentional - he knew exactly what he was doing.

As she soared and began to come all trembling and shaking, she felt fingers entering, one, two, curling forward, more explosions, then another finger somewhere else, fingers in pussy and bottom both, utterly new, absolutely perfect. Firing all the guns at once, she was. And exploding into space! Nothing like this could ever have happened anywhere else in the universe. It had to be unique. She couldn't breathe, her heart had to be going to burst, and it just went on and on and on. The Ever-Ready Bunny of climaxes.

What in the world was she going to do for HIM in return? After all, parity must be conserved, but Good Lord HOW?

When finally she demanded to come down, he grinned at her in delight from between her legs and slid forward until they were properly joined once again. He smiled at her and said "Just a beginning, Lover. Want to sit on top for a while? I'd like that!"

Seamlessly they transitioned: This was BETTER but, dear God, how could that be? A thumb on her clit, her weight and rhythm in play to perfection, his hand on her nipples, and able to SEE one another at the same time.

She came again. And yet again.

Then he was suggesting a return to momma-poppa and when they got there, he reached into his bottomless green back-pack full of tricks and toys, handed her the little vibrator, switched it on, and said "NOW it's time for you to really COME!"

She couldn't believe that there was more in her.

She was very, very wrong about that.

In the midst of her roller-coaster ride, totally drenched with sweat, she looked up wide-eyed at Danny and said something she had always daydreamed about, but never believed she would have occasion for - "My GOD! You can do anything you want with me, Herr Doktor Professor, anything at all, just don't stop! I don't know how long I can last, but I would LOVE to find out!"

He nodded, and maintained their rhythm. His Cheshire cat smile suggested more to come. She wondered what? She found out shortly, Danny was squatting on his heels, cock proud and hard and curved, rampant a fine word for it. Slowly spreading her legs until they were wide apart, his hands on her calves, steadily pulling her towards him across the sheets. His cock pressed against her bottom, timing his entry to the pulsations of her cunt-muscles, watching her face for signs, reading her wide-open eyes carefully, he continued pressing gently forward until he had her unused, never-tried bottom totally filled with hard cock, until through her surprise and overload she realized that these new sensations were compounding her pleasures and so she heaved herself up solidly to meet him for the last inch or two.

Something new, indeed! It was delicious, evil, wonderful, mind-bogglingly intense. Nerves upon nerves, taboo upon taboo, newness upon newness, altogether excruciatingly delicious. He was staring down between them, watching. Vibrator pressed solidly against the side of her clit, she returned the favor, watched him watching them sliding together, studying the view. He folded her widespread legs back towards her belly, pressed himself hard, harder, long-slick-sliding fully inside her.

When he was buried in her bottom, she loved the sensual new way her buttocks fit precisely the inner curve of the meeting between his upper thigh and lower belly. Even better than doggy-style, because of the eyes and hands. It was indeed a dance, Danny was the choreographer, the lead, and she the follower (at the moment, she told herself, only at the moment... but just you wait, Mister Danny!). He slithered in and out, steadily, leisurely, no hurry. Incredibly, every single stroke was different from all the others, with subtle nuances of rhythm, depth, angle, vibration, speed of advance and retreat. It was marvelous, no sensation quite repeated itself, there was no predicting.

He pulled her legs together with her feet in front of his chin, licked deliciously up the instep of each foot, then in between her toes, never slowing his rhythm. Between climaxes that undulated through body and mind like a skier working a mogul field, she had little snippets of time in which to wonder whether he was going to come there in her bottom, how it felt to him, whether it was all that different from her pussy, whether her stretched sphincter was ever going to function properly again. And if he did come there, what in the world would the sperm do? But then, vasectomy meant no sperm, didn't it? She almost giggled briefly, but those thoughts were fleeting at best. Her body was still busy.

Her tension was mounting steadily, steadily, a huge storm brewing, over and above and beyond the fact that her body was still throwing off strings of aftershocks, glorious unstoppable chained petit lightning flashes. Then he was spreading her wide again, his hands taking all the strain off her legs, providing all the force so that she needn't do any work, just concentrate on pure sensation. He was slipping from her bottom and whoosh, fully into her pussy for a dozen strokes, then back to her bottom. Back and forth, back and forth, and his hands weren't involved, it was as if his cock had radar or a mind of its own and could find its way without external guidance.

His hands were busy busy busy - stroking, finding nerves where there never had been nerves before, knees, armpits, ears, lower ribs, fingers inside her pussy when his cock was in her ass, cupped and somehow up her bottom when his cock was embedded in her pussy, always his other hand taking care of her nipples at the same time.

Overload overload, wonderful overload!

She was descending into a blue haze in which she found she often couldn't tell which aperture they were using at the moment, everything was blending together. Without slowing, he leaned forward and nursed on her nipples, white-hot little nubbins, then straightened back up. How long could his thighs handle this, she wondered? His entire body was pink now, and glistening with sweat. She wondered if hers was, too? Probably.

Distraction - once again he handed her the little vibrator, turned it on. She applied it, a perfect adept with her new-found toy.

Moments later, her greatest, earth-shattering paroxysm swept over her, her entire body gone into tetany. It was agony, it was ecstasy, it was... what? End of the world? How trite! How appropriate and accurate, too. She could feel the hot flush flowing across chest and belly, toes curling into knotted fists, the veins and ligaments standing out in her neck, and some part of her wondered how incredibly ugly she must look all spasmed up like this. She strained, bucking against him, trying for yet more cock inside her but there was no more, her clit was caught solidly between their pubes.

Her breathing stopped, and it seemed as if her heart did as well. She wondered if perhaps this was what it would be like to be dying of a massive heart attack? If so, perhaps that wouldn't be such a bad way to go! Finally, with a deep, shuddering gasp, she dropped the vibrator, she couldn't live through much more of this and it was obvious that SHE was going to have to call a halt if there was to be one.

She grabbed Danny by the hips, hiccoughing and demanding, saying something she never thought she would have to say to anyone, "Enough my god enough stop for a second so I can breathe oh my god enough!"

Danny obliged, stopping fully inside her, supported on his arms, her legs caught comfortably over his shoulders, her Achilles tendons against the base of his neck. Her legs shook violently for several seconds. His expression told her how delighted he was for her. She finally got a deep breath and sighed it back out, reached up and cupped his face in her hands and said "I think I got lost for a while in there, somewhere. Have you come yet? I don't think I could have noticed!"

Danny shook his head, waggled his belly against her so that his cock made little lightning flashes down deep inside her. "Not yet. The voyage is my biggest pleasure... but truth to tell, I'm just hanging on by my fingernails at the ragged edge..."

She sighed again, then giggled and asked "So... can you see the clock? How much time have we used up? I have no idea!"

He looked up at the clock. "We've used just an hour, so we have two left. Lots of time."

She waggled her bottom against him studied things. He was solid as a rock inside her, after all this time! She could get used to this, yes indeed she could. And yes, now that things had calmed a bit she could tell that he was in her butt. Amazing how difficult it had become, there at the end, to tell which was in operation! Options, nice new wonderful erotic options. She held his face firmly, and looked deeply into his eyes. "It's your turn, then. Please? Stay right there where you are and fuck me just for yourself this time. Anyhow, anything you want. Whatever pleases you, whatever can make you come the very best you possibly can. I want to feel you come inside me. Quit worrying about ME! Just go right ahead and do whatever you'd most like for yourself. Now. Please?"