I stood at the bottom of the stairs, looking up, transfixed by the vision of beauty before me.
Amy was wearing a long, midnight-blue dress, which shimmered as she slowly descended. She wore her hair up, revealing the graceful curve of her neck, around which she wore a simple silver necklace with an aquamarine pendant. In one hand she carried a pair of black heels and in the other a small clutch.
“Wow,” I said, “You look amazing, stunning. You’re so beautiful!”
She reached the bottom step, pausing so that our eyes were almost level. I made to kiss her.
“Careful,” she said. “I don’t want to get lipstick all over you, well not yet anyway!”
I kissed her forehead instead, wrapping my arms around her, feeling the cool fabric of her dress. I couldn’t resist letting my hands slip a little lower to give her butt a gentle squeeze.
“Ooh!” she giggled in delight.
She slipped on her shoes and opened the door. I hadn’t seen her in high-heeled shoes before; somehow they completed her transformation from girl to woman.
“Come on,” she said, looking back over her shoulder at me, “the taxi’s here!”
—
I’d been to the Crown Hotel before, when I was nine or ten, for my grandparents’ Ruby Wedding anniversary. It was the place where the local townsfolk and villagers celebrated significant milestones. Occasionally it would be featured in the weekend supplements of the broadsheets, billed as a charming small-town retreat convenient for the capital. As a child, I’d always thought of the place as being somewhat dark and gloomy, installing better lighting inside apparently forbidden by fire regulations and various preservation orders.
By far the oldest building in the town, it looked slightly incongruous right next to the 1950s shopping centre. The front dated from the Tudor period and Queen Elizabeth herself was supposed to have stayed for a night. The dining area was spread over two floors, with the top reserved for private functions. The hotel bedrooms were a comparatively recent addition at the rear and were often filled at the weekends by wedding parties. It was a safe choice for the two of us for dinner together; the chances we’d run into anyone we knew were minimal and most of the other clientele would be at least over fifty, if not considerably older.
We were ushered to a small table at the back, partly hidden behind a wooden panel. There was a single, tall candle between us with a small vase of flowers that might have been sweet peas, it was difficult to tell in the semi-darkness. Her aquamarine pendant sparkled as the light played across it.
I looked across at Amy, “You look even more beautiful in candlelight,” I said softly.
It was true. Was it that moment, or the moment when she stood at the top of the stairs in her midnight-blue dress that I realised I was head-over-heels in love with her? I’m not sure; certainly the warm memories of that night have stayed with me ever since.
“One thing I didn’t say before,” she said, “I’m paying for this meal, all of it, this is my treat, my thank you to you.”
I began to protest, but she cut me short.
“No, I know you want to be a gentleman,” she smiled, “but this is what I want to do and it’s what I’m going to do.”
I mumbled my thanks, slightly embarrassed, then I had an idea, “Well if you’re going to pay for the food, at least let me pay for the wine,” I said. “Please, I want to.”
Amy relented and we began to study the menu. I realised that having committed to paying for the wine, it was then up to me to choose it, something of an own goal having minimal knowledge of such things. It was the sort of establishment whose wine list seemed the length of an encyclopedia, with the house wine almost the same price as a main course. I don’t think Amy would have cared, but I decided to go for the third-cheapest bottle of chardonnay, on the grounds that it was a grape variety that I had heard of and I didn’t want to appear too stingy.
Our main courses arrived. I was a man of simple culinary tastes and had chosen a fillet steak with all the trimmings. Amy ordered something vegetarian containing squashes, pumpkins and courgetti’s, which looked fairly indistinct on her plate in the dim light.
I’d been steeling myself to ask Amy a question, and this seemed as good a time as any. “Would you like to go on holiday together this summer?” I ventured.
“Holiday?” she asked, looking up at me, a little surprised.
“Yuh,” I said. “I wondered if maybe you’d like to go somewhere in Europe for a couple of days at the start of next month, once our exams are over? Maybe take the train to Paris or fly to Rome, just the two of us?”
Amy paused considering.
I continued nervously, “Or maybe go away for a little longer in September before university. Interrailing or something? Maybe around your birthday? We can do it quite cheaply, staying in youth hostels.”
“Yes,” she replied thoughtfully. “That would be really nice to do, in September maybe.” She paused and looked a bit embarrassed. “But I really need to finish learning to drive and I’ll need to get a summer job to save up for it. And no, you’re not paying for me, Jake.”
“Have you worked anywhere you can go back to, for the summer I mean?” I asked.
“I worked in the newsagents’ round the corner last year, but I think the owner has taken someone on permanently now and I don’t think I’d be able to go back. I’ve done some office work for Mum as well, but that was deathly boring and I’d only do that again if I was desperate.”
I’d been nurturing an idea. “What about working at the Stables?” I suggested. “Jackie’s often looking for stable hands to help out over the summer. She pays fairly well and you’d get some free riding time thrown in.”
“That would be great,” she said, but then her face fell, “but how would I get there every day? I can’t drive yet.”
“Well you’d be welcome to stay with us,” I said, “but if you want to stay at home, you can get the train,” I suggested. “Ask your mum to drop you at the main station in town when she goes into work, and then it’s just one stop down the line to the village. Maybe a ten- or fifteen-minute walk to the stables from there? Quicker if you bike. It’s further on to our farmhouse obviously, but the Stables are much closer to the station.”
“Hmm,” she said, “that might just work. Let me talk to Mum about it when she’s back and see what she says. If that’s OK with her, I can ask Jackie.”
“That sounds good,” I said.
“I’d get to see you every day. And we might finally get the opportunity for that roll in the hay together!” she added excitedly, her eyes flashing in the candlelight.
The waiter came over to our table and we chose a dessert each. I went for a trio of sorbets and Amy selected a vanilla panna cotta.
“Are you all sorted for the Campsite?” Amy asked, referring to the summer job that I’d been offered a few weeks previously.
“Yeah,” I replied. “My criminal record check came through in the post on Thursday, so I just need to sign my contract now and get my shifts organised.”
“And when do you start?”
“It’s the last Monday in June,” I responded, “the Monday before the Prom.”
She looked up at me anxiously.
“It’s OK,” I reassured her. “They know about the Prom. They’re not going to make me work when I’m supposed to be with you!”
Amy smiled. “And how do the shifts work?” she asked.
“So, the earlies start at six o’clock,” I explained “and you set up breakfast, run the morning’s activities and finish after lunch. The lates start at two in the afternoon and run through until about ten in the evening. Then about once a week, I’ll need to be there overnight.”
“And what will you be doing?” she asked.
“Well it’s mostly supervising activities with the kids, but there’ll be some work setting up for meals,” I said. “I think breakfast is a help-yourself cold buffet, so the people on the early shift are the ones to get everything ready for that – but it sounds like it’s just opening packets from the fridge, putting out the breakfast cereal, making the tea and coffee — that sort of thing. There’s a couple of catering people who take care of lunch and supper, but sometimes the kids cook for themselves anyway — it depends on the group; the older ones can use a camping stove.”
“That sounds fun,” she said. “And are there songs round the campfire in the evening?”
“Yes,” I replied. “I need to practise playing ‘Waltzing Matilda’ and ‘Ging Gang Gooly’ – I told them I played the guitar.”
“You’re not going to take your beautiful guitar up to the Campsite?” she gasped horrified.
“Not the one you’ve seen,” I reassured her, “but I’ve got another one at home, the one that I learnt on as a kid. That’s fine to take up there.”
We finished our desserts and split the bill as we’d agreed. Amy wasn’t really used to drinking alcohol, and was a little giggly after half a bottle of wine, but we managed to locate a taxi without too much difficulty for the short journey back.
—
It wasn’t fully dark by the time we reached Amy’s house, but we’d left the side lights on in the sitting room and their soft glow spilled out into the hallway, beckoning us through the front door.
I kicked off my shoes. “Drink?” I asked Amy.
“Yes, please” she replied, “just water,” giving my butt a cheeky squeeze.
I made my way into the kitchen. I filled two glasses with tap water, then carried them back to the sitting room.
As I entered, Amy had her back to me and was bending over the stereo system. She’d turned off all the electric lights and had lit about a dozen candles, placed at different points around the room. I set the glasses down on the coffee table and made to sit down on the sofa, but she turned, holding both hands out towards me.
“Will you dance with me?” she asked softy. I stepped towards her as light piano music started to emanate from the speakers. “It’s by Liszt,” she said. “It’s called Love’s Dream.”
We didn’t really dance, we held each other tightly, swaying in time to the music as Amy rested her head on my shoulder. With the two mattresses lying together at one end of the room, there wasn’t much clear floor space anyway. Our breathing slowed and synchronised as we melded closer, lost together in the moment.
The track ended and another piece that I didn’t recognise began to play. I dipped my head and we kissed deeply, illuminated only by the flickering candles around us. Then Amy began to unbutton my shirt slowly, kissing down my chest as she revealed my bare skin. I sensed that she wanted me to be still, to be passive, as she undressed me, unwrapping me like a long-anticipated present. She fumbled a little with my cuffs, then pushed the shirt from my shoulders, tossing it behind me onto the armchair.
She traced lightly over my skin with her fingertips, kissing delicately, flicking her tongue over my nipples and playing with the wispy hairs on my pecs. Then she laid her head on my chest again, listening to my heart beating as the music swirled around us.
“You are amazing,” she said dreamily. “Michelangelo’s David would be so jealous of your body.” We kissed again. Amy knelt in front of me, unfastening my belt and letting my trousers drop around my ankles. She took a pace back, allowing her gaze to sweep unhurriedly over my torso, as my cock hardened.
Then she turned her back to me, slowly. “Will you unzip me?” she asked. “Please.”
I bent down to free myself from my trousers, casting them aside, then stripped off my black socks. Bare footed, I moved behind her, kissing across the back of her neck and shoulders. Then I gently moved the small zip downwards, taking care not to catch it in the fabric. I stepped backwards again, watching as she turned to face me, her hands crossed to prevent the dress from slipping. Amy smiled at me, with not the slightest flicker of fear, anxiety or shyness. She was tantalising me, but not teasing me. She knew she was in control and comfortable in my presence. Then, with a quick flick of her hands, she brushed the straps from her shoulders and the dress fell from her body, pooling around her feet.
I gasped. Amy stood before me, clad in matching black satin bra and panties. She was indescribably beautiful. Her knickers were low on her hips, which swept upward to her waist in a graceful curve. Her silver necklace still hung round her slender neck, the aquamarine pendant directing my gaze downwards to her breasts. She reached behind her, and her strapless bra fell to the floor in front of her, revealing her pert, rounded globes.
I gasped again, “Helen of Troy would be jealous of you as well!” I said, marvelling at the beauty before me. “You are so beautiful.”
She stepped forward out of her dress and we embraced, my hardness digging into her abdomen. We stood, holding each other tightly again, kissing gently, lightly stroking each other, feeling the soft coolness of our bare skin.
The track changed again, to a piece with a slower tempo, not solemn, but light. It reminded me a little of a flag blowing gently in the wind or running water perhaps. I kissed her again.
Amy looked up at me. “Can we sit down?” she asked.
I sat on the sofa, naked except for my boxer briefs, as Amy moved some of the candles closer to us, placing two or three on the coffee table a metre or so away. Then she moved to straddle me, her knees either side of my hips. I pulled her to me and our mouths met again.
I ran my fingers up her front to her breasts and she balled her fists against me in pleasure. I kissed each nipple in turn, flicking my tongue across the tight nubs, before gently pulling them with my lips. She ran her fingers through my hair, pulling me more closely into her.
“Ah Jake,” she gasped. “That feels so good.”
We kissed again. Then she moved briefly away from me, curling up beside me, resting her head on my left thigh, her face only centimetres from my throbbing hardness. She ran her right hand up my chest, then trailed it down to feel me through my underwear. Then she moved forward, inhaling the scent of my crotch and planting a soft kiss on the silhouette of my cock.
She looked up at me. “Can I take these off?” she asked.
I nodded, my throat dry, incapable of speech.
Amy got off the sofa and knelt in front of me. I lifted my hips and she carefully slid the black fabric over my cock and down my legs, casting the garment to one side. We watched each other in the warm candlelight, observing the shadows flickering across our bodies.
She lifted my left ankle, maneuvering me so that I was lying diagonally across the sofa. Then she hopped back onto the cushions, kneeling between my legs, taking my cock in her hand and pulling my foreskin fully clear of my bright red glans.
“Oh Jake,” she sighed. “I love your willie. He’s so big and hard for me!”
“I think he likes you too,” I replied. “He really likes you.”
“Ah look,” she marvelled, collecting a droplet of pre-cum and toying with it between her delicate fingers.
Amy paused, holding still as she held my cock in her hand, considering her next move, making sure she was ready to take the next step.
She looked up at me. “Will you tell me before you start cumming?” she asked.
I nodded, expecting her to start jerking me off, but she didn’t. She bent further and cautiously kissed the tip of my cock. She looked up at me again as if seeking reassurance.
I prayed that she was about to do what I hoped she was about to do. I nodded almost imperceptibly and smiled gently.
Then, she stuck out her tongue and licked the tip.
I gasped in surprise. “Amy,” I said. “You don’t have to do that, if you don’t want to.”
“Please Jake,” she responded, almost pleading with me. “I want to. I want to taste you. I want to feel you in my mouth. I want to make you feel good. I love you.”
“I love you too Amy,” I said. “I really do.”
She moved her head forward a few centimetres and began to kiss her way up my shaft, maintaining eye contact all the way.
I moaned gently and hooked a few wisps of her hair behind her ear then gently stroked the side of her head with my right hand.
She took her hand and gently pulled my erection towards her. Then she began to lick the tip, with small, slow movements of her tongue, always looking upwards, deep into my eyes, constantly seeking reassurance.
I tangled my fingers in her hair, not to direct her, but to gently encourage her in her exploration.
Amy dropped her head onto my lap again and began to gently kiss my balls, inhaling my scent.
“Ah Jake,” she gasped. “I love your body. You’re so firm and so hard and so masculine. I’ve missed you so much, I can’t believe it’s been so long since I last touched you!”
“I’ve missed you too,” I said. “You’re so gentle and so tender to me. That feels so wonderful.”
She kissed her way up my shaft again, continuing over my abs. Again, she took a deep breath through her nostrils, shuddering as my musky scent overwhelmed her.
Her head was positioned above my cock now, her mouth perhaps five or ten centimetres above my glans. I felt warm, wet drops as she gently dribbled saliva onto my tip, which she then gently spread over me with her fingertips.
I gasped with pleasure.
Then Amy opened her mouth and gently slid her lips over me, taking my most sensitive part inside. She looked up at me as she did so and I saw her love for me deep in her eyes. I moaned as I felt the warm wetness of her tongue sweeping smoothly over me.
“Fuck Amy,” I whispered, “that feels so good.”
Her eyes shone brightly, like a child given its first lollypop, exploring the new taste and texture. I stroked her cheek tenderly and she began to suckle, devoted to an act that would give only me pleasure.
I moaned softly to encourage her and told her how much I loved her and how special she made me feel.
She pulled off me and placed little kisses along my shaft, looking up at me checking for my approval.
“Oh Jake,” she sighed, “you smell so good, you make me so wet for you.”
Then she moved forward again, taking me in again, bobbing her head slowly, her eyes glazed with lust.
She took a deep breath, bracing herself, before opening her mouth to its fullest extent and engulfing my dick, pushing her head down as far as she could. I felt my cock jump inside her and I reached down to gently pull her off me.
“Was that OK?” she asked, disappointment in her eyes.
“That was amazing,” I replied. “But if you keep doing that, I’m going to cum and I want to make you feel good too.”
I kissed her forehead, then awkwardly extracted my leg and stood in front of her as she knelt on the sofa. She made to put my cock back in her mouth, but I pulled her upwards to her feet, picking her up under her arms to let her stand on the floor.
“I love you so much,” I said, as I looked deep into her eyes.
I began to kiss down her body, gently brushing each breast in turn with my lips. Then I knelt as I worshipped her flat stomach and sensual curves.
I’d never seen Amy completely naked and she was still wearing her black satin knickers. I assumed that she wanted to keep them on, so I skipped down to her lower legs, beginning to kiss upwards.
“Oh Jake,” she purred as I reached her inner thigh.
I could smell her arousal now as my head neared her sex.
“Please, Jake, please,” Amy said quietly.
I looked up at her in confusion, unsure if she wanted me to stop or to continue.
“Can you take them off?” she asked, “Please, my panties?”
“Are you sure?” I asked.
She nodded.
I kissed across the top of the waistband and then gently hooked my fingers inside at the hips. Then I gently pulled down, revealing her mons, covered by a neat triangle of fine dark hair. Her lips, delicate and open, ached for my attention.
I held her panties against the carpet, so that she could step out of them gracefully. Then I stood, stepping back to admire her naked body for the first time, bare except for the aquamarine pendant that hung from the silver chain around her neck.
“Wow,” I said, not for the first time that evening, “you look so beautiful!” My heart swelled with love for her.
She smiled, a genuine happy smile, not one of shyness or embarrassment. Confident and content.
I stepped forwards again to embrace her, crushing my cock between us. I wanted to taste her, as she had tasted me.
I picked her up and placed her carefully back down lengthways on the sofa. I lowered her back gently into the cushions. I felt her reach for my cock again, but I pulled my hips away from her, kissing down her body, lavishing my attention on her breasts, swirling my tongue around her nipples, before I slipped lower.
“I love you so much,” I whispered.
I knelt between her outstretched legs and tenderly nuzzled the inside of her thighs.
“Can I kiss you?” I asked.
She nodded mutely, the slightest hint of nervousness creeping back into her eyes. I took her hand in mine to reassure her, and I kissed up her body again to her breasts, wanting to give her time to back out if she wanted to.
I moved back down her body again.
“You’re beautiful,” I said, awestruck. Her lips were moist and delicate, small and perfectly shaped, half hidden by her downy hair. I moved my head forward again to place a kiss on her mons, then I slipped lower, blowing softly onto the surface of her labia. She twitched as I made contact with her sex for the first time. “You’re beautiful,” I said again, making eye contact, watching her watching me.
I held her gaze as I pushed her legs apart a little wider, before moving my head forward to run my tongue along the length of her slit, tasting a woman for the first time. She moaned and shuddered as I did so, closing her thighs around me slightly.
I moved my right hand to spread her lips with my fingers, opening her lips into a glistening flower, exposing her core to me. I kissed her again, then flicked my tongue across the inside of her labia, eliciting a sharp intake of breath.
“Was that OK?” I asked, worried that I might have hurt her, or that I’d pushed her too far too soon.
“Yes, that’s lovely,” she replied cautiously. “I’m just not used to your touch, you feel so different.”
Amy placed her hand on the back of my head, guiding me back. I began to lick her pussy again, with long steady movements. In truth, I had no idea what I was doing. My nose kept bumping against her mons and my tongue was lost in a maze of ridges and folds. My efforts seemed to have the right effect though and she began to moan quietly as pleasure began to envelop her.
Amy watched me through glazed eyes as she ran her fingers through my hair and her moans urged me on. The scent of her arousal was becoming stronger and more visceral. Her groans became yelps and she began to buck her hips against me. She held her breasts firmly in the palms of her hands, trapping her nipples between her fingers.
“Is this OK?” I asked. “Am I doing it right?”
“Oh Jake,” she cried, throwing her head back, “don’t stop, go, go go!”
I could hear her breathing now, she was beginning to let go, caught in the vortex of her own rising pleasure, hurtling inescapably towards her climax.
Then she tensed, throwing her head back in the same soundless scream I’d witnessed before. Her body shook and she pulled her legs around my head, locking me against her; the room was filled with the sounds of her gasps as she struggled to regain control.
“Hold me,” she said quietly, “please hold me!”
I stood, lifting her up in my arms and carried her over to the bed on the floor, depositing her gently on the nearest mattress. I lay down beside her, encircling her with my body as she bathed in her post-orgasm glow. The world was still as I watched her.
—
I thought she had fallen asleep and was contemplating blowing out the candles and covering us with the duvet, when she turned to face me.
“That was amazing,” she said quietly, “thank you.”
“It was really special watching you cum,” I said, smiling gently at her.
“But you didn’t cum. You didn’t cum again, Jake” she said, disappointed, a note of despair in her voice.
“That’s OK,” I said. “We can do it tomorrow.”
“No, Jake,” Amy insisted, “you look after me so well, but I need to make you finish too.” She reached down to stroke my cock with her fingertips.
“Jake,” she gasped, “he’s still so hard. I love your willie so much!”
She began to kiss across my chest, taking each of my nipples into her mouth and flicking across the tips with her tongue. Then she moved lower allowing her breasts to gently caress my length, gasping in delight as she slid my hardness between them.
“Oh that feels so good,” she murmured, savouring the unexpected sensation.
She knelt over me, taking me into her mouth, swirling her tongue over my glans. Then she began to bob her head again, coating me with her warm saliva. I shut my eyes, losing myself in the moment as she experimented with different rhythms.
She pulled off me and spread her spittle around my glans again, making me gasp in ecstasy.
“Oh Amy, that feels so good,” I cried.
She pulled off me and began to stroke me with her hand. “Will you cum for me?” she asked. “Please Jake, make him cum for me.”
“I think he wants to cum with you,” I said.
She looked at me quizzically, not understanding what I meant.
“Can you get on top of me?” I asked, “Then you can stroke him while he rubs against you.”
Amy straddled me, and I felt her pussy lips pressing against the base of my cock for the first time.
“Oh that feels good. It’s like he’s my willie again!” she said gleefully.
She started to move her hand again, as she pressed down against me. I put some saliva onto my fingers and reached up to circle her nipples.
“Ah Jake,” she cried, increasing her pace, “I can feel how hard you are against me.” She began bucking her hips.
“Go Amy, go!” I urged her on. “That’s it grip me real tight. Fuck you feel so good against me!”
“Cum for me Jake, cum for me!” she ordered. “I’m so wet for you.”
I began to buck my hips, pushing up against her, pinching her nipples, the pressure rising in my balls, our skin glistening as the sweat poured from us.
“Fuck Amy, I’m gonna cum!” I roared.
“Me too!” she cried.
I bucked my hips one last time and ropes of cum flew from my cock across my chest. Amy screamed and collapsed against me, convulsing as the aftershocks pulsed through her.
“Ah Jake,” she murmured, “it just gets better and better with you!”
We fell asleep in each other’s arms that night, downstairs in the sitting room. I blew the candles out, picking her dress off the floor where it had fallen and draping it over one of the arm chairs. Then I held her naked body against mine, gently stroking her side and nuzzling her hair as we drifted off.
—
I woke early as usual, as the sunlight filtered through the curtains. I looked across at Amy, still sound asleep, lying on her side, facing me. Ordinarily I would have leapt out of bed and straight into the shower, but that morning, I stayed put, watching the rise and fall of her chest, listening to the sound of her breathing.
Eventually she woke and for a few minutes we simply stared into each other’s eyes as I caressed her cheek and ran my fingers through her hair.
“Last night was amazing,” she said simply.
“You looked really beautiful in your dress,” I replied.
She smiled. “I got that dress for my 18th birthday,” she said quietly, sincerely. “It’s the first time I’ve worn it. I was going to save it for the Prom, but it seemed right to wear it last night, for you, just for you.” She looked down, breaking eye contact with me.
I placed my hand on her cheek, bringing her gaze up to meet mine again. “I had no idea,” I said. “That’s so special. It looked so good on you.”
I moved my hand down, lightly catching the silver necklace that she still wore. “This really suits you too,” I said as I cradled the aquamarine gemstone. I kissed her again gently.
“This was my grandmother’s” she replied shyly. “She made me promise that I would only wear it for someone special, for someone I was really sure about. I was going to wear something else, some of my costume jewellery, but when I was putting on my dress, it kinda called to me.” She broke eye contact. “I’ve never worn it before,” she said quietly. “Last night was the first time.”
I felt my heart surge with love and I lifted her chin to mine and kissed her deeply.
“Amy, I love you so much. I’m so honoured that you’d wear this for me. I really do love you,” I gabbled.
She turned, pressing her back against my chest and her butt against my stiffening
cock. I reached around her to cup her breasts with each hand.
“I love lying with you like this,” I said, placing littles kisses on her neck. “I feel so close to you.”
“Oh Jake,” she murmured, “and I really love being wrapped up in your big strong arms and, oh,” she ground her butt into me, “feeling your willie against me!”
“Yeah?” I whispered, grinding back, “You like my big cock?”
She whimpered in response.
I collected a glob of spittle from my mouth and reached back round to circle her nipples. Amy stiffened at my touch, letting out an excited gasp.
“Oh Jake,” she moaned, “how do you do these things to me?”
She clutched my hands as I stroked her breasts gently, spasmodically bucking her hips as I brushed her nipples. She turned her head towards me and we kissed passionately, our lips locked together and our tongues dancing.
“Oh Jake,” she sighed, “you make me so wet for you!”
“Can I touch you?” I asked.
Amy nodded in response.
“Can you show me?” I asked. “Show me how to make you feel good.”
I shifted across a little, so that Amy could turn onto her back.
She took my free hand and placed it on her mons.
“It’s nice to start just by holding me there,” she said, “and if you kinda press gently, you can get me to start building up.”
“Can you show me?” I asked pulling my hand away, “I’m not sure what you mean.”
“Like this,” she said.
I watched as she placed her hand over her mons and started to gently massage it with her palm.
“Go on,” she said, “you try.”
I began to massage her in the way that she’d shown me, and she responded with soft moans. I dipped my head to kiss her breasts, swirling my tongue around her right nipple.
“Oh Jake,” Amy sighed, “that feels great.”
She pulled my head up to hers and we kissed deeply.
“Am I doing it right?” I asked.
Amy nodded, her eyes flashing with excitement. “So now it’s time to touch my lips; if you put some saliva on the tips of your middle fingers, that will make it really smooth and wet.”
I moved my hand and collected some spittle as instructed, then Amy guided me back down, spreading her legs a little more.
“Keep the pressure there and then just stroke me really lightly with your fingertips, that’s nice. And keep your fingers flat, don’t try to push into me.”
I nodded. I could feel a series of ridges and bumps, but wasn’t really sure what I was touching.
“And what about your clitoris, should I touch that too?” I asked.
“No,” Amy replied, “not yet, she’s really sensitive at the moment. You’ll hurt me if you touch me there, we have to build up to it.”
“Ok,” I said, “I understand. But you will let me know if I’m hurting you, won’t you?”
“Of course Jake,” Amy replied. “Now, I’ve got a job to do as well! Where’s your willie?”
She collected a glob of spittle in her hand, then reached down between us to where my shaft was insistently pressing against her side. She began to slide her fingers slowly up and down, looking up at me for reassurance.
She was beginning to breathe rapidly again. “Is that nice?” she asked.
“That feels amazing,” I said, watching as she began to flush with her arousal.
“I want to make you cum,” she said earnestly. “I want us to cum together like last night.”
“I want us to cum together too,” I said, as I rolled back a little to give her right hand room to work me. I pressed my forehead against hers, looking deep into her eyes, as the passion built within us.
Amy was wet and getting wetter, beginning to buck her hips against me as I picked up pace with my fingers.
“Oh fuck Amy, you feel so good,” I cried.
“Yeah, yeah, am I doing it right?” she panted, gripping my cock tightly as she stroked me.
“Fuck yeah,” I yelled.
“Are you gonna cum for me Jake?” Amy growled.
“Yeah, I’m gonna cum for you, I’m gonna fucking cum for you,” I replied. “I’m getting close,” I warned.
“Go on then,” she urged, “cum for me Jake, shower me with your cum!”
I felt the pressure building in my cock, then a sudden release as I began to ejaculate up her arm and across our bodies. As soon as the first drop landed on her stomach, Amy arched her back and screamed in her own all-consuming orgasm. I spurted across her – four… five… six times, coating us both with my load.
I made to move my hand away from her core, but she caught my wrist. “Hold me, please just hold me,” she begged quietly. She scrunched her legs up to press my fingers even more tightly against herself.
We fought to recover our breaths, riding the afterglow of our shared eruptions. Amy held up her arm, examining the trail of semen that I’d released along it.
“Wow Jake,” she said excitedly. “You came so much. Look, some of it’s even between my breasts. It’s gone so far.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, “I’ve made you really sticky and messy!”
“No Jake, it’s wonderful, it really is. We just have to make sure that it doesn’t go where it shouldn’t.”
Still keeping my right hand against her lips, I felt around with my left for the boxer briefs that I’d worn the previous evening and used them to clean the two of us up. Then I pulled her to me and we kissed deeply, as I felt my cock deflating against her thigh.
“I love you Amy,” I said. “I really do.”
“I love you too Jake,” she replied. “And I love your willie!”
—
We dozed together for maybe half an hour or so, then reluctantly decided to get up to eat. I fished out a clean pair of boxer briefs and some jeans from my holdall.
“I’m going upstairs to put some clothes on,” Amy said as I fastened my fly, “then I’ll cook us both breakfast.”
“I’ve got a better idea,” I said teasingly.
“No Jake,” she smiled back at me. “I’m not frying sausages and bacon naked.”
“Oh, well that is a better idea,” I said, “but that’s not the one I had in mind.”
Amy looked at me quizzically. I got up and walked over to the armchair where she’d flung my shirt the previous evening. I picked it up and opened it out for her.
“I thought you might like to wear this,” I suggested, blushing a little.
Amy gasped in delight and took the garment from me, holding it up to her face and taking a deep breath.
“Ah, I can smell you Jake,” she said, her eyes sparkling. “It’s going to be like having you hugging me all day!”
I turned to reach down into my bag again.
“What are you doing?” she asked incredulously.
“Er, putting on a t-shirt,” I replied, confused.
“Oh no Jake, you’re staying topless,” she smiled at me, her eyes flashing mischievously. “And I wouldn’t get too used to wearing those jeans either if I were you. They’re coming off as soon as we’ve eaten!”