I drive into Susan with an animal hunger and she rises against me and around me with an adept grace. Her hands, which had been caressing my back, claw at my shoulder. The constriction of her incipient orgasm brings me to mine. We explode together. For an immeasurable moment, it is heavenly ecstasy. Then I return to mundane reality.
I roll off her and hug her to me. "You are wonderful," I say.
"You're not so bad yourself," she replies.
Lying there in the fatuous lethargy of a man who has been fucked by a woman dedicated to the art, I remember how this all began. Without Eve, I would never have met Susan.
I had gone to my brother's house to use his laser printer on a paper that I had written. I'd been dilatory, and it was due that afternoon. I found my sister-in-law in an irascible temper. My two-year-old niece Eve was, if anything, angrier than her mother. She wanted to go for a drive. Mommy had promised, and Eve was impervious to any suggestion that her baby brother's cold had changed the situation. "Would Mommy let you come to college with me?" I asked. "There are stairs there." Mommy would; at that point, Mommy would have considered letting her go with Charles Manson. Eve's mood swung 180 degrees. She blithely chattered to me from her car seat for the entire trip.
Susan interrupts my memories. She wiggles out of my arms to lean over and kiss me. Soon her hand is busy at my groin. She unwraps her favorite part and kisses it.
"I can't, love," I say with more than a little guile. Susan can never resist that challenge.
"I'm not trying," she says even more guilefully. "I'm just rewarding the hero of our recent adventure." When I finally stiffen, however, she reaches for the next condom. "This is redundant, you know. I'm on the pill."
"I come from a prolific family," I reply. "We may be more fertile than average. Two levels of protection aren't too many."
Once she has raised our desires to the point of pain, she mounts me to assuage them. At one time this blithe hedonism disturbed me. Now I take Susan for what she is. She likes me well enough, but she doesn't love me. What she loves is sex.
She bends so that I can suck her prominent nipples. I caress her smooth skin. When she sits back up, I have one hand on her breast and the other between her thighs. I can judge her state and keep her slightly ahead of me. Then she changes her motions to those which will take her over.
Again, she constricts around me. I turn us over to thrust into her warmth. She comes, and I follow. Recovered, back in my arms, she snuggles back against me. She will stay the night, and is -- if I know her at all -- already planning the morning. "What were you thinking of?" she asks.
"How I could possibly be so lucky to have found you."
"You came highly recommended," she says. And so I had.
Eve and I only walked up the outside stairs once going in, since I was really pushing the deadline. On the way out, however, we took several trips up and down. A small group of coeds gathered to admire the little beauty.
"You have a fan club, Eve," I said. "Say hi to them."
"Hi," she said with her guileless, smile, "I'm Eve."
"How do you do, Eve," said the cutest of the coeds. "I'm Susan."
"UncaJoe," Eve continued, pointing to me.
Susan's breath evens into sleep. Holding my lover in my arms, I return to my memories.
I saw Susan around campus after that. We sometimes shared a table in the cafeteria. One day, I screwed up my courage enough to ask her out to a movie. When I drove her home, she asked me up to her apartment. I expected a Coke and a good night kiss. I didn't get anything so mundane as a Coke, but her enthusiastic, adept, kiss began as soon as the door was closed behind us. When we broke for air she backed up, but only to remove her coat and ask for mine.
With our coats off, we moved to the couch. She made no objection when I petted her through her blouse, nor when I opened it. I had enough glimpses and touches on those smooth breasts to need to heft them unencumbered. When I started to remove her bra, however, Susan moved away. I feared that I had crossed the line until she removed the blouse herself and reached back for the snaps.
I thought then that I was risking the incipient relationship with that sweet, innocent, coed by moving too fast. I think now that I had risked boring this hedonist by my dilatory acceptance of the access she'd given me.
With my mouth sucking on her nipples, I felt safe sneaking my hand up her pantyhose above her knee. Suddenly, she gripped my wrist. While I feared that I was about to be thrown out of paradise for taking too many liberties, she pressed my hand against her thrice-covered vulva.
"Rub!" she ordered. I could have figured that out for myself. I kept rubbing and sucked harder as she dropped all concern about me to concentrate on her pleasure. Minutes later it came. What seemed minutes after that it passed.
I stared incredulously as this petite body shook in wave after violent wave of orgasm. When she pushed me away, I was quite ready to stop. I held her as her breasts shook enticingly with each gasp for air. Finally she recovered enough to sit straight.
"You are good," she said. "Slow but good." She looked down in my lap where my trousers were tented. "Sorry about that. I do have some rules, though. One of them is that I don't fuck on first dates."
I decided against trying the apocryphal story that my balls would hurt if the pressure wasn't relieved by real sex. "I took care of your problem," I said. "Can't you do something to assuage mine?"
"I don't suck on first dates, either. What are you going to do, go home and play with yourself?"
"If that is what I have to do," I answered.
"If you let me watch, I'll let you watch," she said. I almost came at that.
"Watch me play with myself." At that time, I knew that women came; but I still supposed that they felt the same lethargy afterwards that males did. Susan never does.
She brought me some Kleenex and invited me to remove any clothes that I felt were constricting me. After I had, she blithely removed the rest of her clothes in a straight-forward fashion that was more erotic than any stripper's performance.
Watching her pet her pussy drove me to the edge of orgasm, and my own strokes were almost redundant. She watched my movements and ejaculation, then waited for me to recover my breath. The orgasm she brought herself was as dramatic as, if somewhat shorter than, the one that my hand had provided.
After she recovered, she relieved me of the Kleenex and led me to the bathroom to clean up and dress again. It was nearly a year later that I realized that she had had my ejaculate tested for STDs.
The next week I went to the cafeteria a little before the time I knew Susan would be coming there. I planned to invite her to a movie for a second date. Instead she and I had a long talk, through one of my classes as a matter of fact, about her personal version of hedonism. Essentially she believed that each person should seek his or her own pleasure, but seek it by offering pleasure to others in exchange. This discussion was so engrossing that I forgot my mundane purpose of asking her to a movie.
The next time I saw her, I asked her to a dance. In the fast dances, she was a pleasure to behold; in the slow ones, a pleasure to hold. She explained on the way up the stairs to her place that her apartment mate had claim to the living room that night. She peeked in the door to see that the coast was clear and led me rapidly to her room.
Once there, she hung her coat in her closet and helped me take mine off. She continued helping me undress until I wore nothing between my belt and my glasses. At that point, I turned her around to hug her back to my front. I kissed the back of her neck and her ear. I teased her breasts before beginning to unbutton her blouse. I later found that she preferred a fast buildup, rather than this dilatory strategy. She couldn't have found my delay egregious that time because she relaxed and let me set the pace.
After I removed her blouse and brassiere, she turned in my arms and kissed me deeply. Her nipples were rubbing against my chest, and the soft pressure behind them helped harden me. When I pulled her toward me by her butt, she rubbed her mound on my thigh. When I couldn't find the clasp on her skirt, she laughed, pulled away, and removed it. She continued with panties and pantyhose while I removed my shoes. When I saw her naked, I could no longer resist. I pushed her over on the bed and kissed those lovely breasts. From there, I kissed lower until I reached her mound. I rained kisses over that lovely spot and the lips beneath it.
"Really do it," she commanded. I had some idea of what she meant, but no experience in it.
"I'm new to this," I said. "Tell me how."
"Spread the outer ones apart. Lick the edge of the inner ones." Doing that, I first tasted her nectar, first tasted any woman. "Now lick the insides." Here the taste was stronger, and the odor was intoxicating. "Do the inner lips one at a time ... Do you see the bud on top?"
I had to draw back to say "Yes."
"Lick it very lightly." I did. Then I went back to the inner lips with frequent visits to her clitoris. I took her moans as signs of enjoyment, since she would have shoved me off otherwise. By this time, my world had been reduced to the taste, odor, and texture in front of my face; the sound of her voice; and the engorged organ constricted by my trousers. Briefly freeing my hands, I shoved my trousers and my shorts down to my knees. Then I stroked her breasts. "Oh yes," she said. At some time in the past, I'd been told that she had a roommate who had dibs on the living room; but since then I had forgotten everything else but us two.
"Yes," she said the next time I licked her clitoris, "more." So I licked it some more. "Yes ... yes ... yes. Now suck it." I sucked her little bud and she moved against my face. "Harder!" she shouted. I tried. "God! ... Yesss!" she screamed.
A moment later, she pushed me out of that heaven of taste into a mundane bedroom. With her thighs off my ears and my attention off her marvelous cunt, I heard sounds from the living room. The squeaks of the sofa frame were matched by moans. A much louder moan was followed by a series of grunts, then silence. I knew that the people I heard had heard Susan.