This time, when I had again worked my way from her slit to her clitoris, I had decided to finish getting her off. By the time I was focusing exclusively on her clitoris, I was able to move my finger in and out of her anus readily – she was readily accepting what was happening there, and even enjoying it. I continued teasing her clitoris by rubbing it in little circles, first firmly, then more gently, than firmly again, and so on. As her breathing got quicker and quicker, I slowed my rhythm on her clitoris, maintaining a steady pressure, so that the last little bit before her orgasm became "the longest yard". Finally, though, I felt her tighten up again – far more than any time before – and she started moaning deep in her throat as I felt her little pink rosebud tighten around my finger. As her first spasm started, I removed my finger from her clitoris, and replaced it with my mouth: sucking on her little nubbin in time with her contractions as I moved my finger in and out of her anus in full, long strokes, as though fucking her with it. That seemed to be more than she could take, and her sounds changed from simple moans and sighs, to full-fledged screams and other unintelligible noises. Her first spasm lasted several seconds at its peak, and it was followed by several more only slightly-less-powerful contractions; as each contraction ended, I could feel her rectum 'flutter' as it relaxed around my finger. Gradually, the spasms lessened in intensity until they stopped completely; but the entire process must have lasted a full minute or more.
When her orgasm finally died down, I slowly withdrew my finger from her anus while continuing to softly lick her again-hidden clitoris; it seemed as though her ass didn't want to let go of its new friend. I took a few moments to lick up some of the copious fluid she'd released before standing up. I moved onto the bed next to her, pulled her up so that she was laying on it completely, and laid next to her, holding her in my arms as she recovered from what must have been the strongest orgasm she'd ever had.
Eventually, she caught her breath, and when she'd recovered some more of her senses, turned toward me with tears in her eyes, and hugged me with all her might, thanking me for what I'd just done for her. I held her like that for a couple of minutes as she quietly cried all over my chest and shoulder.
Finally, the waterworks dried up, and I asked her if she'd gotten enough exercise to have an appetite – a question that brought a smile to her face.
She nodded, and I told her that if she'd join me for a*quick* shower, we'd get dressed and I'd take her out for something to eat. With that, she jumped up, took me by the hand, and led me into the bathroom, where we shared a surprisingly quick (but efficient) shower before getting dressed.
We both put on clean clothes (she even 'dressed up' enough to put on a bra, which I 'checked for proper fit' – causing a paroxysm of laughter from her). While she was 'getting ready' (checking her hair, etc), I went in, shut down the computer, and generally neatened up the apartment – mostly consisting of collecting the scattered clothing we'd shed thus far.
When she (finally!) decided she was ready, I asked her where she wanted to go, and she said "Someplace with tables and chairs and waitresses!", and off we headed, ultimately winding up at a Big Boy restaurant (her choice).
While we were out having supper, Robyn behaved like an absolute angeclass="underline" considering how she and I had spent the last couple of hours, she didn't play any sex games or anything else. She just acted as though she were my daughter, and we were out having supper because 'Mom' had to work late, or something. We drew a few looks, but they were uniformly directed toward Robyn: men and boys of various ages, simply looking at her to appreciate her beauty.
Supper went by without any problems (other than Robyn embarrassing herself by how much she ate); on the way home was another matter. We hadn't any more than cleared the parking lot of the restaurant when Robyn was unfastening her blouse – and when she'd removed it, taking off her bra.
Distracting (and pleasurable) though it was, I couldn't help but ask "Don't you think you ought to put the blouse back on? Or are you just trying to get me arrested?". She laughed, and said that she really didn't like wearing a bra, and that she was putting her blouse back on, anyway. I must confess to being more than a little relieved when she did just that – though she made it a point to leave it about half undone, just so that she could flash what cleavage she had at me every time I looked over at her.
The night air was a little cool, and her erect nipples made for some pleasant distractions.
Eventually, though, we did get back to my place. We hadn't any more than gotten the door closed when the phone rang. It was Robyn's mother, Lucy, calling from the airport. She explained to me that her flight had been overbooked, and that she'd agreed to be 'bumped' in exchange for a free ticket. The result was that she wouldn't actually be back in town until after 3:00 AM. She wanted to know if it was still agreeable for Robyn to spend another night, and I assured her that it was. I told her that we'd just gotten back from having supper out, and she was glad to hear that I wasn't going to feed Robyn nothing but junk food and pizza. Robyn was listening, too, when her mother asked if Robyn had been behaving herself; and she almost went into (quiet) hysterics when I told her mother "I couldn't*ask* Robyn for better than what she's given me".
We continued to chat for a couple minutes about where she'd been and what the course had been about and such before she asked to talk with Robyn. By this time, Robyn had pretty well recovered from the answer I'd given her mother about her behavior, and was able to talk with her for a little bit. I heard Robyn tell her mother "Oh, yes, I'm being very good." – and nodded my head in enthusiastic agreement, almost causing Robyn to break out laughing. Finally, though, her mother remembered that she'd called me collect, said goodbye, and Robyn hung up the phone – and promptly collapsing on the floor in laughter, gasping "'Couldn't*ask* for better….'" (chortles of laughter) "'I'm being*very* good…'" followed by more laughter. It took her longer to get her composure back because I kept standing there, shaking my head and making 'tsk, tsk, tsk' noises; and about the time she finally calmed down, I told her (in a child-like, accusing voice) "Oooooo, what you said…. you're gonna be in TRUH-bullllll…", sending her off into another paroxysm of laughter.
Finally, though, she calmed down again, and was able to get back up off the floor, where she'd been laughing and crying. I got her a small towel, and she used it to dry her eyes and face before heading into the bathroom.
I went over and turned on the TV, and a few minutes later, heard her as she left the bathroom – but it was a couple more minutes before she came walking back into the living room, wearing only a smile. I looked at her and raised and eyebrow, and she just said "I'm more comfortable this way.
Besides, isn't snuggling on the couch this way a lot more fun?". I certainly couldn't argue with her logic, and went into the bedroom to undress, too. When I went back into the living room, I saw that Robyn had gotten the blanket out, and was waiting for me to join her on the couch. I had a sudden thought, and mentioned to her that it would probably be a good idea if we made the couch up ready to be slept on before settling down to watch TV. She looked confused, and I explained to her that if her mother was even later getting in, she might stop by, and it wouldn't do to have an unmade couch for her to see. Robyn understood the sense in that, and together we made the couch up ready for 'bed'. Once we'd settled in, I mentioned to her that having the sheets and such looking 'lived in' would also help preserve the appearance that Robyn had slept on the couch and not in my bed. She nodded her understanding of that, too.