What followed began with his placing her on her left side, ignoring her request to shower. He wouldn't hear of it. Forming her body into a bow-a natural arc shape-he took the pillows from the bed and placed one of them under her head, the other under her hips and buttocks. The contrast of the softness with the scratchy mat made the pillows much appreciated.
Then he too was on his left side, his chest curled into her back. His lingam toyed briefly around her buttocks and yoni and then he entered her. Lingam in yoni, cock in cunt: Her vaginal muscles started constricting again but he admonished that she had to stop them.
"Concentrate on stopping them-for a while," he told her.
She wanted to move along the length of his cock within her, to pacify the contractions, but she concentrated as she'd been told and the spasms stopped. He now lay motionless. "Wait," he whispered, smoothing more of the brown potion into her shoulders. Then his hands and arms began caressing her body from forehead to knees, lingering on her breasts, then rummy, then hips, all the time rubbing more and more of the substance in and around, around and his hips, too, was resting on the pillow that he had placed under hers. Both their hip areas were only slightly elevated, the bent-bow shaping of their joined bodies broken only at the top where he had gently guided her head downward suggesting that her eyes take in the action in and about her yoni.
Action? Lingam and yoni were joined but motionless. And his hands were now extended flat, palms resting on her navel, fingers together and resting lightly on and around her clitoris. And also motionless.
She waited. For something to happen. Movement of some kind, any kind. Nothing. The suspense was getting-was already-unbearable. She was filling with desire. Her cunt ached. It was a deep well of pain filling with more pain. No, not pain exactly, but a core of nerve-ache, centered where the tip of his cock was. Deep within her.
They lay like that for what seemed hours. Nothing was happening. Except just about everything. More and more unbearable it became until Gert gasped. From the pit of her stomach a protest, half-formed but fully justified, was moving its way upward to her throat and open mouth, but "No," he whispered. "No words. They distract." And she closed her mouth, obediently pressing her lips together to stifle the stillborn complaint. Obedient. Docile. That's what she was with Larry. She thought briefly then of Gil and Rudolph, how with them she had been master, they the slaves. But with Larry it was different. Yes, yes, and of course because he was It was sudden. A small sudden cock-twitching movement that could move a mountain of-and did. And then she knew. Larry's move had been involuntary. She knew because her move, her answering, direct-response move, was the same. She felt her muscles reply with a tightening on his now repeatedly pulsating prick. The sensation was-unreal, yes. But real real, too. She was squeezing the life from him.
She started to make a slow circular motion with her lower body but he stopped her with a gentle hand on her hip. Again they were motionless but Gert could now feel that cock of his not moving, but throbbing in her. Slow, deep, heartbeat blood-beat cock-beat throbs. His heart-cock-blood-life essence was centered there, beating within her. The pulsing became harder, heavier, more insistent. And now her own insides were matching the beat.
He throbbed, she squeezed, then they pulsed together. The rhythm picked up in intensity and in speed. It was frantic, frenetic. Their outer-shell bodies inert, motionless, their inside realities driving-being driven-like a pneumatic drill. Uncontrollable, wild, crazy, but yes-right.
She grasped his hands. There was a need for something to hold on to, to anchor down the ecstatic turmoil broiling within her. But there was to be no anchor, not now, for he gently removed her hands, returning his to the motionless position on her stomach and clitoris. And now the drumming throbbing constricting spasming feeling was tearing her insides apart. She tried to stop the responsive squeezing of her muscles. She couldn't. Larry seemed so calm outside, his body motionless, his hands, trying to bring some of the serenity of those hands into focus-to force some sort of reality over her screaming, bursting brain.
She focused her attention downward, following the path of Larry's hands. His wrists, his fingers-calm, motionless, a still landscape centered on her inner being, her central core, this core of hers that was not a part of her, that was taking action of its own accord, the core that she had no mastery over. Her mind responded to the motionlessness of Larry's hands. She realized her own hands had been tearing at the pillow beneath her head. She relaxed them, composing her mind, adjusting to the inner calmness which now was seeping through her body. The turmoil inside her vagina was still there but now she could cope with it, she could get the main thrust of the non-thrusting pleasure without being distracted by a churning, whirling head which had nothing to do with what was going on. Ideas. You don't fuck with ideas. You fuck with cunt and cock, cock-in-cunt, lingam-m-yoni. And it was there, filling her. Filling her walls. Driving deep into her. Stretching, reaching, thrusting, throbbing, pulsing. All without any apparent movement. So much for what the eyes and mind know about screwing. So much a cunt knows, when The rhythmical pulsing, smothering her, washed over her like a waterfall, cascaded over her in hundreds of droplets of pleasure. Lying like that for an eternity and… His tool looming even larger, expanding deeper than her available depths, and…
Realizing that she was coming coming and that he was now doing so in force. Feeling the hot semen shoot into her and, like the wondrous waterfall-feeling of eons before, feeling it washing over her, womb-warming her, world-wrenching-wreaking-wringing And she came. She came with an exploding dynamite spasming of her muscles that forced him out of her. With his cock just resting at the opening she lay there. Spent. Satisfied. At peace. Yet her internal contractions continued, and it was not until he entered her again that she realized she'd not yet crested the final peak. And then she did, tasting and savoring and relishing this utterly quiet bursting. Not of her mind but bf her body. Body alone, new and marvelous sensation. She had never come before with just her body. Her brain had always gotten entangled with that wildness that her body felt.
This was good. So good, and then so peaceful a coming apart. She sighed and they slept like that. At peace. Joined. Kama.
"Large bee?" Gert asked. "What's that?"
"It's called purushayita-bhramara-bandha." Larry said. "You like that better?"
"The King's English suits me fine. But I've got a little something I'd like to try on you."
It was the following morning. Larry and Gert had awakened slowly and lazily and moved to the bed. There they had shared the orange juice and coffee which Gert had trotted down to prepare and trotted back upstairs with, like the satisfied wife she in fact was. But it was down in the kitchen that her eves took in the sticks of butter, which some insensitive demon had placed right next to the orange juice in the refrigerator. He'd brought the butter up on the tray which now occupied the night table on her side of the bed.
"Really, Larry, while you were gone I got this glorious idea. See, what we do is-"
"What we do, Gert, is teach you how to excite me. When I'm down, I mean, when old Peter is tired."
"Right," she said. "Now, what I have in mind-"
"The large bee."
She pouted. "That isn't exactly-"
"But it is. Get me hard-quick."
She looked at him warily. "How?"
"Any way you want, but quick."
She eyed the butter. No, that was little involved-and had nothing to do with a bee, large or small. Excite him, he said. Well, she knew how to do that much. She swung toward the middle of the bed. Lifting his legs and buttocks into the air-with his help-she put her legs under his, buttocks to buttocks, her mons pressing against his testicles. She leaned over him grasping his root with both hands, putting her lips to the tip of him. She knew he loved to watch her mouthing him. Eating away at him. She kept her head up so that he could see her lips sucking, sucking at the tip of his cock.