We laughed and went on into the bedroom. Twentieth-Century Intellectual Smartass, she knew me.
We got into bed and she snuggled into me, curling against me like a kitten, brushing my shoulders, neck, and cheeks with her lips in a display of unashamed sensuality that surprised and delighted me. "Last night was beautiful," she said. "Thank you for understanding. I had so much built up inside of me… "
"You don't have to apologize, baby. You're a part of me now and you can do anything you want, anything in the world, and know that I'm with you all the way."
I traced the line of her back with my fingers. "Feeling you come against me like that gave me more pleasure, more release, than the best, wildest orgasm I've ever had. I never knew it was possible to receive such pleasure from the act of pure giving, but maybe I'm finally beginning to learn what somebody tried to teach me a long time ago."
"Mora?" she asked.
I nodded. "Mora."
We held tightly and presently we made love, not hurrying into it, knowing that we had eternity.
Susan was relatively inexperienced. Emotions deep within her coming out for the first time made her want to do things for me and to me that she had never had the urge to do with other men. My hands and my body encouraged her, pushing, turning, gently insistent for her sake rather than for my own. She kissed my belly, running smooth, lovely hands over my genitals, around my thighs, up and over my chest, my arms, my face. She kissed my testicles, my swollen penis, up and down, using her hands at the same time.
"I want to suck you," she said, "but I don't know how. Will you teach me the right way?" Her words, so soft, so filled with love.
"There's no such thing as the right way," I told her gently. "Just love me the way you want to. That's all that matters."
"Darling, please, thank you," she said, and with a sigh took me into her mouth, loving me slowly, letting my hands guide her. My fingers smoothed over her lips, the lips that spoke of English literature in class, the lips that smiled absently in the TLR, the lips that had lied and told me that I was just another one of her students, now pressed tightly around me. I took hold of myself, moving my organ around in her mouth, which excited her greatly. I slipped around to the firm smoothness of her stomach, kissing her forearm, pressed tight to her as her fingers massaged between her legs. My face moved into pliant, ebony hair, kissing, bearing down into the firmness of her pubic bone beneath. The insides of her thighs were soft to my lips beyond description as my hands moved slowly up and down the backs of her legs.
And then she said, "Please," and my lips moved to her, wet and smelling of freshness, her juices flowing freely down onto the cheeks of her buttocks. Reluctantly her mouth gave up my organ as I turned to he between her legs, my hands over the backs of her knees and moving them back, back almost to her breasts. For the first time since Mora, my urges directed my tongue down between her buttocks, and Susan moaned loudly, moving her feet "onto my shoulders. I let my fingers enter her and then moved them to her lips, so she could taste and know how good it was, how beautiful. And when my tongue moved up again and my fingers entered her again, spreading slightly so that she could feel the tension, her breath broke and she pumped wildly, screaming, "Yes, yes, yes."
When she was quiet again my lips still kissed the warmth between her legs, my face covered with the sweet wetness of her love, my head smoothed by her incredibly gentle fingers, thanking me with their touch.
But I wanted to be in her; I wanted our bodies to become the one person that was both of us. Although she was wet I moved slowly, not wanting to hurt her even a little bit. She brought back her legs to take me still deeper, giving sighs of pleasure and locking her arms tightly over my back. The feel of her was too exquisite; I was too overcome with emotion. We lay still, whispering our love until the feeling of urgency had left me. Then, for a while, it was slow and deep, deep inside of Susan's beautiful body. And it didn't come from my cock but from far down in me somewhere, some inner serf that had been waiting my entire life for this exact moment. Feeling poured over us, inundating us in each other, and the warm envelope enfolded us and our world became us, and there was no other and none else. There was no room, no bed, no bright Sunday morning light, there was only us, tens of thousands of neurons transmitting impulses of joy, of relief, or pleasure, of scores of subtle, nameless emotions.
Our bodies were lubricated with our own oils, her arms clamped desperately around me, nails raking my back, her warm mouth murmuring broken sobs of love into mine, the wet, squishing sound from between her legs as I moved up and on her and pushed hard and fast, pushing and pushing until at last she was over the edge and on her way again, departing her envelope for a world of her own, filled with inner sensations so intense that I was aware once more of how lonely an orgasm is. But in her wild, uncaring moment of loneliness she cried for my sperm, begged for it in deep, throaty gasps. And moving quick and full, I came to my own moment of loneliness, giving it to her in a prolonged explosion that I had been saving for months, years, only for her; it left me weak and exhausted.
The sheets were damp and cold with our sweat and the juices of our love. My body became sticky against Susan's. I hadn't wanted to come inside of her. "What if you get pregnant?" I panted, still out of breath.
"Shhh," she whispered, her hand stroking pure love into my back and dripping hair. "Shhh, put your head on my breast."
I moved down and took the moist softness of her against my cheek. Her hand moved, gently pushing her nipple, still dark and swollen, into my mouth. I felt a content, a peace to blissful that it seemed unreal.
We slept.
Chapter 6
When we awakened it was mid-afternoon, and immediately we started to live our life together. We sat in bed reading the Sunday comics and I told Susan how, not too many years before, Aleta from the Prince Valiant strip had been the principal figure in my masturbatory fantasies. We laughed, because in retrospect it was so absurd.
We drove to Susan's apartment and loaded into my car most of her clothes and other things that she might need. I had the same curiosity about her apartment that she had shown about mine, and she confessed that she had thought of inviting me up for coffee many times but was afraid. Her place was older than mine, but was pretty much as I had imagined. While it was small, and furnished by the landlord, she had carved her personality deeply into it with good wall prints, bookshelves supported rather precariously by wine bottles, and a multitude of plants and flowers in neatly arranged pots, she so loved having living things about her. I promised that we would come back for the rest after school on Monday, and we drove to Grisson's on Van Ness Avenue for dinner, our only meal of the day. Susan wanted to cook, but neither of us had much in the way of groceries, and we were too tired to start shopping.
Back at home, we lay naked on the couch, listening to Haydn string quartets, and Susan told me about her other men, not because I had asked her but because she wanted me to know.
The first time, she was a senior in high school. She had had too much to drink at a party and her date, a football hero, had practically raped her on the front seat of his car. She didn't even remember how it had happened, except that it had hurt a lot and he had messed her panties and dress with his short, stubby cock.
When she was a sophomore in college she met a senior majoring in philosophy, whom she dated for several months. He was kind, intelligent, and entertaining, and aside from feeling her breast he never asserted himself. Finally, when his roomie transferred in mid-semester, she slept with him. He was selfish in bed, working her up to a certain state of excitement and then having his own orgasm. He didn't seem to be aware that there was any more to it, and Susan wasn't too sure herself, but she didn't mind because he was very good to her and she enjoyed his company. He had an annoying habit of asking her to suck him, but the idea was repugnant to her. She had tried once, out of compassion for him, but he wasn't as faithful about washing his genitals as he was about his hands and face. She almost gagged, and couldn't go through with it. She walked out and never saw him again.