Chapter 9

When I got back with an extremely optimistic supply of condoms, I was pleased and gratified to see that Sally had gotten up, re-made her bed, and freshened her body with still-another shower. She had then arranged herself attractively in the center of the bed to wait for me, wearing only a smile.

It was to be her first experience with condoms. Evidently, her bunny-like parents hadn't felt the need for birth control while on their private world in the South Pacific. But Sally knew the basics about "rubbers," and their uses. "Show me how you put it on," she said.

"Okay. But first it's got to be hard. But don't worry, I'll just sit here on the bed and look at you for a minute, and it'll be hard."

"Let me help," Sally said.

Her teacher/mother must have been a wonderful human being. When Sally took me in her mouth, I lost my condom in the blankets.

"How old were you, when you left for the island?" I asked.

She didn't stop what she was doing to answer. Not for the first time, I wondered whether anyone could acquire such skills without hands-on practice. Well, if there had been interfamilial hanky-panky among the denizens of Sally Island, I didn't want to know about it. I was just going to lie back and enjoy the results.

Finally it occurred to me that so far, Sally's only orgasm at my hands (so to speak) had been oral. Perhaps I should save myself in the name of making her first time more memorable.

With enormous regret, I signaled to her that she should release my member. With what seemed to be reluctance equal to my own, she did so. I brought her face up to mine and kissed her tenderly. (A kiss from a woman who has just taken your dick out of her mouth is a special thing. It softens the lips wonderfully. Try it. You'll like it.)

I got another condom and with Sally paying rapt attention, I put it on. I kissed her again, and this time when she reclined on her back in the classic missionary position, I didn't suggest any variations. I kissed her, and licked her between the legs to assure that she was ready.

Oh, she was ready. This time I was in complete control, and I was determined that nothing was going to interfere with Sally's getting her first bona fide vaginal orgasm. I felt good. I felt strong. If anything, the impromptu excursion into Honolulu's streets in search of a drugstore had been good for me. I was cool now. In control. The Man.

The condom wasn't a deal-breaker. We joined together comfortably and completely, and Sally's lubrication was ample. I hate condoms and would have much-preferred an alternative means of birth control, but hey, what did I have to complain about?

"Oh, God!" Sally said. "It feels even bigger with that rubber on it!"

Hmmm. Maybe I ought to alert the good people at Trojan about that remark!

"Ohh Brian! Ohh Brian!"

Sally was, by several furlongs, the most incredible bed partner I'd ever encountered. If she had been any more responsive she'd have bucked me right off onto the floor. She fought to get every millimeter of my penis inside her body, and then squirmed to keep it there as I attempted — ever so temporarily — to withdraw.

When we got into a rhythm, she stepped up my pace no matter how deliberate I tried to keep it. Finally I had to pull out, leaving her crying out in protest.

"What?" she said. "Why did you stop?"

"You're killing me!" I told her. "You're fucking me so hard I can't hold back!"

"Please put it back!" she said.

I did. She seemed grateful. But I insisted on setting the pace now. A slower pace. A less pleasurable pace, but one that I could hope to maintain — for a little while anyway.

After awhile she seemed to adjust to it. She stopped fighting me, stopped trying to go faster.

But now she was squeezing me.

"Jesus, Sally, don't do that!"

"Doesn't it — doesn't it feel good?" she asked.

"Too good!" I said. "Wait! Wait! Don't move — don't move — anything!"

She didn't understand, but she was obedient. She stopped squeezing. She stopped moving. She let me lay there, buried deep inside all that exquisite heat and softness.