Chapter 11

I was lethargic, ready for a nap, but I’d promised we’d go out to the beach, so we did that. We took a blanket and sunscreen, sunglasses, and I brought a paperback book in case I felt like reading.

We found a spot and spread the blanket. Emma had me put sunscreen on her, then she did the same for me. We lay on the blanket in the sun, facing each other, just enjoying being together. At some point, by mutual agreement, we decided to swim, so we walked to the lake and dove in. We decided to do a slow crawl together, paralleling the beach until she felt it was time to stop, she being the least used to it.

I’d worn myself out yesterday, so I was glad to take it slow today and got into a lazy rhythm.

But Emma was struggling a bit, not having used these particular muscles in a long time.

“That’s it for me, I think,” she said breathlessly. “Let’s turn around.” So we did. This time I’d remembered to fix a landmark when we’d entered the water, so I’d know where to get out on the way back.

It was an effort for her, and she was breathing heavily when I said, “I think this is the place.” Under her breath I heard her say, “Thank God.”

As we stepped out and shook the water out, she told me, “Wow, my legs are trembling. That was more work than I remember. Where’s our blanket?”

I pointed in the general direction and we headed off. “Wait, is that ... That’s Amy over there, see?”

I didn’t, but she kept pointing until I did. Emma pulled me by the hand in that direction. “Let’s say hello. I don’t see Donald.”

As she got close she waved until Amy noticed her and waved back. This was the first time I’d really seen anything of her. The previous times she was dressed in either loose pants and blouse, or in a loose dress that avoided accentuating any curve at all.

Today she was wearing a green, one-piece bathing suit, very modest by modern standards. Bare arms, shoulders and legs, to be sure, but everything else was covered. She was trim, no real flab on her, good muscle tone, and I was surprised to see that she had a cute butt and boobs that were a handful or better.

They did the faux-kiss thing that women do, and Emma told her, “We just got back from swimming. Kenny wore me out. Did you go in? Where’s Donny?”

“I mostly just came down to get out of the room, get some sun. Donny’s on the phone to the home office. I think they don’t really need him, but he wants to make sure they don’t forget him while he’s on his honeymoon, and taking time out to pretend to solve a problem will make them remember him. So I’m going to at least get a tan out of this.”

“Oh, you poor thing. He shouldn’t be leaving you alone like this. Why don’t you come over and sit with us? At least we can talk.”

Amy demurred, Emma insisted, Amy hemmed and hawed, Emma asked again, and finally we were all lugging her stuff over to where we were camped. The two of them spread out her blanket next to ours and they settled in.

It took no more than about fifteen seconds before they were chattering like old friends. I was on the other side and had become an afterthought. Oh, well. I put on my sunglasses, picked up my book and started to read.

At some point, the sun, the humidity, and the buzz of the people around me set me to dozing, and I woke to a hand shaking me.

“C’mon, Kenny, get up before you get cooked. We should go in, and Amy’s got to get back, too. Get our blanket, please.”

The three of us walked back to the hotel, me silent and the two women carrying on a running dialogue. I couldn’t track the conversation because I felt too logy. In the lobby, we left Amy, the two of them exchanging air kisses, and Emma called from behind her, “Don’t forget to ring me up, right?”

We stepped on the elevator and she said, “Donald sounds like a real tool, from what she said. He’s not mean, he’s just indifferent, basically ignoring her now that they’re married. She’s not happy. I gave her our number and told her to call me after we get home. She doesn’t live close, but we could talk on the phone every now and then. She could use a friend.”

“That’s a nice thing to do. It sounds like Donald could use a remedial course on interpersonal relations and priorities.”

“Yeah, I think he’s a lost cause. And y’know the weird thing? I don’t even think he’d care much if the marriage fell apart, because it’s not directly connected to his job and that’s what defines him. He’d just shrug his shoulders and soldier on.”

We got off on our floor and Emma let us in with her card. “You may have gotten a little sunburn there, Ken. You should have applied more sunblock. I did.”

“Yeah. I think I might nap a bit till dinner.” I flopped on the bed in my trunks, dried from the sun, and was asleep before Emma came out of the bathroom. When I woke I found her sleeping next to me, naked, one arm tucked under her head. I admired her for awhile, memorizing parts of her body so I could recall them when I was alone.

My bladder interrupted me, so I got up to pee and, while I was there, decided to take another shower. I dried off and came out to find Emma already in her underwear, picking out something to wear. Timing is everything. I should have taken a shorter shower.

“Is it that late?” I asked rhetorically, looking at the clock. “I didn’t mean to sleep so long.”

“We both needed it. That swim wore me out. Dinner will help.”

And it did. I felt much better, very mellow, after a good dinner and a drink. Emma had a margarita, then another for dessert. By the time we finished and paid the bill she was well on her way to tipsy, giggling and a little unsteady on her feet.

She excused herself when we got to the room and spent some time in the bathroom. I heard the toilet flush so I expect the margaritas had made their presence known again. When she came out she was naked, carrying her clothes in her hands. She put away her dress, bending enticingly over the open suitcase on its stand. I should make a movie of her ass. It would be a big hit everywhere.

I had undressed down to my shorts, channel surfing with the sound off. She came over and snuggled in close to me. “I feel good,” she told me unnecessarily. “I’m having a good time. I’ll be sorry when we have to leave.”

“Well, we’ve got a few days left. Then, after we get home and I win the lottery, we can spend every day like this.”

“The lottery? Why didn’t I think of that. Well, I’m so glad you’ve planned ahead for our retirement. What are you watching?”

We flipped channels and found a movie we could both agree on, and watched that, half asleep in a post-dinner, too-much-sun daze. At some point during the movie she flopped a free hand in my lap and started fondling my dick through my shorts in a friendly way.

Out of the blue, she said, “Y’know what’s really bugging me about Amy’s situation? You were asleep, and we were talking quietly anyway, but she said her first few times were almost like her mother had predicted. It wasn’t painful so much, just that Donny had no clue how to make a woman respond. So he’d be above her – he was always on top – and stick his dick in and in two minutes he’d be done and roll off. No touching, no conversation, no connection at all. She felt almost nothing.

“Oooo, I want to yell at him, make him wake up. But he has no clue, he’s oblivious, and worse, he has no clue that he has no clue. He’s doing what he thinks he’s supposed to be doing. And Amy, of course, this was her first time having sex, so if it wasn’t for people like me and Karen and Barb, she’d have no idea that there’s supposed to be more, that she’s supposed to enjoy it. It was more like her mother predicted, just lie back, close your eyes, and it’ll be over soon.

“I think it’s a shame that she didn’t find somebody like you, Kenny. You pay attention to how I’m feeling, what might be scaring me, what I respond to. She should have had somebody like you first, someone who could show her what sex could be like. Then she’d know what a loser Donny is.”

I was startled by this outburst, since it had been a while since we had talked about Amy.

“Have you been thinking about this since we got to the room?”

“I dunno, Off and on, I guess. It keeps popping back into my head, and then I’m sorry for Amy and angry at Donny all over again. What a useless man.”

“I’m sorry for her, too, but there’s little that either of us can do for her. It has to be her decision when she’s had enough. She can vent her frustrations to you when she calls you. If she calls you.”

She nodded, pensive again, her hand still brushing my dick through my shorts. The dick was not yet fully hard, but neither was it limp. Her hand felt great.

But what she said had got me thinking. “So, tell me. You said your mother had given you pretty much the same story. No details about what was likely to happen, what you should expect to feel, more like ‘close your eyes, grit your teeth, it won’t last long.’ But you didn’t come in here with those expectations, you knew there was more. How?”

“Well, I alluded to it before, hanging out with my girlfriends, hearing their experiences, watching porn secretly with them and hearing them jeer at the excesses that were depicted. I kinda figured out what could be real, what was likely to be some producer’s imagination. I mean, a hot girl delivering pizza and she suddenly decides to strip and have sex with you because, well, who knows why? How many times has that happened to you or anyone you know? Zero, right?

“So split the difference and maybe half of what you see in those things might be real. Probably less. Anyway, you eventually get a sense of the things people are accustomed to doing by the number of times it shows up in different videos. So I had no real-life experience, but I had a sense of the various things that might happen. And on the other end of the spectrum, you have my mother and her list: Don’t do this, don’t do that, never, ever let him do this other thing. And on and on. So, somewhere in the middle is reality. That gives you a sense of the range of things, some of which I might like and some not.”

“I’m continually surprised, Emma, at how analytical and open-minded you are. I would not have expected it, based on what you revealed to me about your upbringing while we were dating.”

She rolled over and put an arm around me so she could look in my eyes. “I hope you’re not upset about that, withholding that information about what I’d been taught to believe versus what I actually believed. I mean, I couldn’t take the chance of that getting back to my mother, that I wasn’t fully on board. My life would have become impossible if it had, she would have forbidden me from leaving the house without a chaperone. Seriously. She’s a zealot.”

“I’m fine with it. Knowing it would have made the wait till we were married less worrisome, but it’s turned out perfectly. And I’m happy to assist you in your secret plot against your mother.”

She laughed at that. “Geez, if she had any idea of what we’ve done ... Well, it would have made holiday dinners really awkward. You know the saying, ‘Ignorance is bliss’? Much better that she remain blissfully ignorant.”

“If I had a margarita, I’d raise my glass in a toast to ignorance.”

“Oooo, do you think I could order one from Room Service?”

“You’ve had your quota for the day, I believe. Wait till breakfast.”

“You’re no fun. I’m bored with television. What should we do?”

“I can’t tell you how disappointed I am with Amazon right now. The new shipment of sex toys was supposed to be here by now. I was so looking forward to the padded handcuffs and the whip.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Handcuffs? Whips? Maybe those pornos weren’t so far off the mark after all. So don’t I get a say in this?”

“Well, not according to the pornos. You’re supposed to be an unsuspecting victim who, over the course of an evening, develops a newfound passion for bondage and discipline.”

“I think you may have misjudged your audience. No whips. I’ll think about the handcuffs.”

“Well, there goes the evening. I suppose we could fall back on the old standbys.”

“Yes, tried and true. Do you have a plan or are we going to wing it?”

“No plan, Emma. It’s always such a joy to see how you respond to these new toys, new ways of using them, new ideas. I love playing with your body and I get such a rush when you cum. So I think I’m going to have to look them over and see which ones inspire me. Unless you have a preference. Do you?”

“I think I have a couple of favorites by now, but why don’t you choose? Surprise me.”

“Okay, then, I will. Close your eyes. And no peeking, okay?”

She screwed her eyes tight shut, saying, “Right. I’m gonna count to a hundred. By ones. Then I’m gonna open, ready or not.”

I tried to remember where all the toys were now, since we’d split them up. The silver vibrator she called ‘Janice’ was in the night table drawer, along with the lube. I couldn’t remember where the pink one she hadn’t named yet was. The others were...

Oh, right, the suitcase! I went over to the suitcase and rummaged through it. Rabbit? No. Butt plugs? Maybe ... but no. That big one? Hmmm, she hadn’t used that one. It was rather intimidating earlier, but why not give it a try?

I took that one and trotted back to the bed and opened the drawer. Yup, there it was, the pink one sat next to ‘Janice’. I took the two from the drawer along with the lube. On second thought, I opened the drawer again and put in the new dildo, which I had already started calling ‘Andre The Giant’ in my head. I closed the drawer.

Beside me, she called out, “Ready or not, here I come,” like she was playing a game of Hide And Seek.

She opened her eyes. “What’d you get? Which ones?”

I showed her ‘Janice’ and the pink-dildo-with-no-name. “Okay,” she said, “that’s a start. Old favorites.”

“And maybe a surprise or two along the way. We’ll see. For now, just lie there and spread your legs a little. That’s good.”

I crawled up on the bed and got my chin down to crotch level. I had to stop for a moment and say to myself, “What a fucking beautiful pussy!” I filed the image away for later reference and leaned in to give a wet lick to her pussy, working my tongue around the entrance to her cunt. She laid her hands gently on the top of my head, her fingertips slowly kneading my scalp.

I tried without success to push my tongue inside her, but it’s the effort rather than the end result that gets the appreciation. Working my tongue side to side, I moved slowly up her slit. She had started making little sounds, sighs and tiny grunts, as I worked my way up. By the time I got just below her clit, her fingers had tightened on my head, shaking slightly.

But this was about teasing, anticipation, so when I moved high enough, I grabbed her clit with my lips alone, pushing it side to side, then pulling it outward and letting it slip out of my grip. I spent almost two minutes doing that, and at the end she was murmuring, “Please, please.”

Instead, I started licking downward again, this time applying more tongue pressure. “Oh, baby,” she gasped, “that’s nice, do that.” So I did. And pushing my tongue in with the force of my chin behind it, I moved further down, while I reached up with my right hand and tapped my finger against her clitoral hood. She slapped the back of my head and shouted, “Yes!”

Another fruitless effort to stick my tongue inside her cunt got her breathless, grunting above me. I spent a minute there and then moved up her slit, my tongue poking everywhere. When I reached the outskirts of Clitville, I hesitated, forcing her to wait. She had my head between her palms, the fingertips digging into my scalp, panting out a desperate wordless, plea.

Not this trip, I told her mentally. Instead I wrapped my lips around her clit and pulled and released, pulled and released until she was begging me, “Oh, please, do it.”

For the last time, I traveled southward, licking all the pink spots, but this time I placed my fingertips on her clitoral hood and moved them gently in a small circle, not too much pressure. She should be ready by the time my tongue got back there. At the bottom, I went a little further this time and tongued her perineum, which should be pretty sensitive by now.

It was. When my tongue hit it, she moaned, “Oh, fuck, Kenny, oh, God.” I didn’t spend long there, that was to sensitize it for later. I went north again, my fingers still fondling her clitoral hood, not touching the clit itself. Now she was pulling me up by my hair, the unmistakable message to travel faster. But I maintained a steady speed limit and in due time was just below her clit.

My fingers were now in the way, so I moved them to her hip and bathed her clit with my tongue, poking it, pushing it, jamming my tongue onto it. That was all it took. She arched her back and called out, “Yes, baby, right there, I’m cumming, I’m cumming, oh, Christ, yes!”

She was actually getting a little rough, and my head was sore from her pulling it and slapping it. But now’s not the time to discuss boundaries. She was still shouting, but more drawn out, getting quieter, until she slowly settled into the bed.

“Oh, fuck. Oh, wow, that was nice, baby. You do that so good. What’s the phrase, I can’t remember, my girlfriends would ... Oh! You give good head, that’s it. And then some. Wow.”

She was petting my head now, like I was a well-behaved dog. Okay, a small price to pay for getting to eat her pussy.

If a man got off like she just had, we’d collapse, maybe say a few adoring words if we had been well-trained, then collapse into a coma. Most women, in my experience, get chatty, wanting to share what it had felt like, which was what she was doing now.

“I’m just so surprised,” she was saying, nominally to me but I think more to herself, “that your tongue gets me so crazy. My girlfriends didn’t talk about it so much, I think because most of their boyfriends didn’t do it, or they didn’t do it right. It was always about the girl going down on her guy. Anyway, that’s another one of the things on my mother’s no-no list. She might change her mind if someone with some skills did that to her.”

I had pulled myself up to lay beside her, while she talked, and I rubbed the outside of her pussy gently. I loved how it felt so slick under my hand. My fingers were sliding between her labia almost without pressure. After a few minutes, her monologue tapered off, replaced by the occasional “Mmm”. Her pussy had opened, and I wasn’t aware of it until my fingertips just slid in.

She said, “Oh!” so I would slip my fingers inside, then pull them out and rub her wet pussy, giving it the occasional squeeze. I pushed them a little further in, because it was so wet that there was almost no resistance. The mantra changed now, to a more drawn-out “Ooooohh”.

It hadn’t been that long since her last one, but she seemed to be about ready again. This would be awkward, but maybe ... There. I had twisted around enough to reach the silver vibrator I had placed on the bed. With my left hand, I found the switch and flicked it on. I cycled through some vibration patterns and selected one.

I rolled the tip of the vibrator to the side of her clitoral hood, and she moaned a long, “Jeeeeesus.”

I had to switch positions because my back was starting to hurt, but then I could better get at her pussy and slide my fingers further in. As I did, I rolled the vibrator over her clit gently.

“Oh. My. God. Kenny, it’s ... keep doing that!”

I picked up my speed and started finger-fucking her forcefully, rolling the vibrator very gently over the clit. I could almost see the orgasm forming in the way her body changed, got tenser, her hands vibrating, and her voice almost lost as she sucked in air as if she were suffocating.

Then she froze, and I said to myself, it’s time. I pressed the vibrator onto her clitoral hood and pushed down, and pounded my fingers into her pussy, pressing upward.

“Oh, fuck, YES, baby! Yes! Yes! Yes! Right there!”

By the end she was gasping, and I picked up a fragment of a word that might have been, “Stop,” so I slowed down to almost nothing, then pulled my fingers out of her gradually and caressed her pussy.

She lay there motionless, breathing slowing, for some time, with a tiny smile at the corner of her mouth. “Jesus, Kenny, I feel so wonderful, the way I came and what you’re doing now. They never show this in the porn videos, I guess because it would be so hard to convey that feeling. Is it like this for everyone? Well, I mean, everyone who’s in love.”

“I don’t know, Emma, but I don’t think so. Mostly people do it for the orgasm. But the emotional connection that sometimes happens, well, that’s special. I think that’s a question you’re going to have to ask your girlfriends. The married girlfriends. I think it’s likely that they respond differently than the people who are just scratching an itch, or using it as a stress-relief mechanism.”

“Scratching an itch? That’s an odd way to talk about it. What do you mean?”

“I mean like when you’re trying to focus on something but there’s an itch that keeps bothering you, or a hair tickling your nose, or an urge to sneeze that’s not quite at the sneeze stage. You have to remove the annoyance before you can get back to what you were doing. Especially for guys, the urge for release is so incessant that it often interferes with all the other things in your life you’re trying to concentrate on. So they masturbate or call a girlfriend for a quick hookup, like that. Then they can get on with their lives. Until tomorrow.”

“Men are so predictable. My mother always said that, and my girlfriends, too.”

“It’s a biological imperative. It’s nature’s way of ensuring that the species remains healthy and viable. Don’t blame us, blame nature.”

“Where have I heard this before? ‘I couldn’t help myself.’ ‘It’s not my fault, you got me crazy.’ It sounds like a convenient excuse, Kenny.”

“You don’t have to believe me. It’s pretty well documented by biological scientists, anthropologists, psychologists. Hormones mess with us, just like they do women. The effects differ slightly, but I’m willing to bet that your girlfriends would reluctantly admit that they get horny, too. And for the same reasons.”

“Yeah, I think I like ‘men are so predictable’ better.”

We bantered back and forth about that, about our life when we got back to the real world of work, housecleaning, meals and utility bills, about movies we’d seen. This is what people who are ‘together’ do, everyday topics that you share because you want the person you’re with to know what you think, as you want to know what they think.

I’d never given it much thought when I was playing the field, asking someone out because they looked hot, or they had a sense of humor, or whatever excuse we use to spend time with someone who might become something more. I don’t know why, but before Emma I had never made a real effort to find out what the real person under the attractive exterior was like.

Why was it different with Emma? Perhaps it was an unconscious signal from somewhere deep down in the brain that said, ‘this one’s different, make sure, find out what she’s like’. So I started asking her opinions about everything, and I realized partway through that she was doing the same for me, finding out what I was like.

And at the end of the process, I had a pretty firm conviction that she was the one, and that we were a good fit. I felt like I was in the place I belonged. I thought I was pretty damn lucky.

Emma was telling me about a friend she’d known in high school and some funny thing that had happened to them, and I looked down and noticed that I had an erection. I mentally scratched my head wondering, where did that come from, the story isn’t that sexy. Then I thought, you idiot, she could be reading a furniture circular aloud and you’d get a boner, because she was doing it naked.

It had been a good half hour since she had cum last, it might be time to bring out the big guns.

So while Emma told her story I leaned in and kissed a nipple that just happened to be in the vicinity.

She went on with her story, and I did it again, and this time I added a lick with my tongue. She stuttered, then caught herself and went on.

The third time I put the nipple in my mouth and sucked on it, then massaged it with my tongue.

The story faded off into little starts and stops, then just breathing. I ran my hand down her side onto her hip, just stroking it with my fingertips for a minute, then trailed down to her pubis.

There was no urgency to what I was doing, just enjoying her body, telling her with my fingers and my lips how much I liked it. She may have interpreted it differently because her breathing was getting a little short, shallow breaths trying to pull in enough air.

She shifted into a more relaxed position and in doing so her legs parted slightly, allowing me to run my fingers down her crotch, brushing the labia very gently. I reluctantly let go of her nipple and started kissing my way lazily down her torso. She was no fool, she knew where this was headed and she began making little sounds in her throat.

When I got close, my fingers started pressing more forcefully. I could feel that her pussy was already a bit damp and I nudged my fingers between her labia onto the sensitive pink areas underneath.

“Oh, fuck, Kenny, that’s nice, I really like that.”

Edging closer to her clit with my mouth, I let my fingers push into her cunt, just an inch, in and out. Her hands were on my head again, trying to direct me. I heard fragments of words, never quite finished until, finally, my tongue found her clitoral hood and circled it slowly.

“Aaahh, right there, baby, that’s it.”

I kept the tongue moving steadily, not too fast, circling the castle, but pushed the fingers further in and a little faster. Above me – and I’m sure she wasn’t aware she was doing it – Emma had lapsed into a vulgar, whispered mantra. “Fuck my little cunt with your fingers, baby, lick my fucking clit, I need this, you bastard.”

If her mother had heard a recording of it, she’d say, “That’s not my Emma, she doesn’t use those words.” That was probably true of the old Emma. This was the new, improved model.

She was wet now, I could feel it on my fingers, her hips pushing into them. I took them out of her pussy and reached behind me while I still licked her clit. I was searching for ... ah, there it is. I found the silver vibrator, ‘Janice’, and thumbed it on.

“Emma, take this.” My voice pulled her out of her trance with a start. She had to look for what I was holding. I handed it to her. “I need to change position, just for a moment. I’ll be right back. Use this until then.”

She was halfway in a sensual haze, but she reached out her hand and took it from me, then idly lowered it to her clit and teased it with the vibrator. I lost a moment, intent on watching her play with herself so beautifully, then sat up and found the lube and the pink dildo.

Dribbling some lube on my fingers, I rubbed it onto her pussy opening, pushing the fingers in a little way. Emma moaned, “Oh, fuck.” When it felt slippery everywhere, I took the bottle again and let a small stream flow onto the top of the dildo, then closed the bottle and used my hand to spread the lube evenly over the shaft.

Emma was lost somewhere in her feelings, her eyes closed, blocking out everything but the sensation of the vibrator on her clit. Her breathing was fast now. I brought the dildo close to her pussy and flicked the switch on, then pressed in.

“Jesus! What ... Oh, God, baby, go slow, oh, fuck.”

I think I’d gotten some clues about how she liked these things to develop, so I was gentle but insistent. I’d push the tip into her just a little, then pull out, then back in with a slight twist a little further. Inexorably, it moved further into her cunt, humming away. She’d stopped using the vibrator on her clit, so intent was she on the thing pushing into her.

“Oh, God, Kenny, that feels ... intense. Oh, go slow, please.”

I didn’t intend to go fast, ‘cause I knew this was the way she liked it. We hadn’t done it that much, but I’m a fast learner. So, in and out, slowly, a little deeper with each thrust, with a little twist, too.

I looked up and watched her. She was completely lost in her sensations, but I could interpret everything she was feeling by what was on her face, the movements of her chest, the way her fingers twitched. She looked so beautiful and so sensual that I got hypnotized by it for a moment.

I pulled myself back and saw she still had ‘Janice’ held loosely in her hand by her side. I took it from her, then leaned in and touched my tongue to her clit, now fully exposed. Very lightly, very slowly, the tongue moved around it. I could feel her body tensing under my fingers, until it got very still.

“Oh, JEEEES-us, baby, oh, YES!” Her body trembled while she choked in breaths above me.

The dildo was still in her pussy, but I had slowed down to almost nothing while she recovered, just in and out an inch. I did that for about ninety seconds until she let out a deep breath.