Chapter 4

I wanted to watch a Mission Impossible movie but Jane (because she was my girlfriend) decided that we were going to watch a chick flick instead. About twenty minutes into the movie, I sighed and rolled my eyes. Jane giggled and and asked, if I was ready to call it quits on the whole girlfriend thing. I thought about it for a minute. There was a pretty redhead snuggled up next to me, warm and inviting. Her hair smelled great, she felt great. I bent my head down and she inclined hers up to receive my kiss.

Her mouth was soft and warm. Her lips were open slightly. When they touched mine, she began to explore my mouth with hers ... soft, tender kisses all around my mouth, my face. She grabbed my head in her hands and kissed my nose, my eyes, then she pulled my head down a bit more so that she could nibble at my ear. I must have fucked Jane two or three dozen times at least but this was the first time we kissed like this. This wasn't the ravenous, frantic, open mouthed, tongue duel I was used to. It was soft and warm; slow and sensual.

Every sexual encounter I'd had with Jane up to this point had me in charge. I directed her mouth where I wanted it to go ... but now ... now she was in charge. My head still in her hands, she directed my mouth where SHE wanted to be kissed and nibbled.Her hot breath in my ear breathed out little mewling noises in response to my teeth nipping at the junction of her neck and shoulder.

"God, Paul! You're getting me so excited!" She whispered in my ear. "Are you up for another round already?"

I continued to nibble at her neck. "I'm in no hurry", I said. "I want this to last for a bit"

Jane resumed control of our make-out session. She pushed me back against the couch and swung her leg up and over me, straddling my hips. She grabbed a handful of my hair and pulled my head back as she started to plant little nibbling kisses and bites all around my neck.

A bulge grew in my pants and Jane responded by slowly moving against it. Her lips locked onto mine. She started sucking on my tongue as soon as she coaxed it out of my mouth and into hers. Jane's hips ground against the hardon in my jeans, in a slow, deliberate, rhythmic undulation. This was a new experience for me ... this wasn't fucking. It wasn't the raw animal sex that I was used to. This was ... it was...

I pushed Jane back away from me for a second, she resisted breaking our kiss with a tiny mewling protest in that squeaky Kewpie Doll voice of hers. She saw my face and she grew concerned and even a little frightened.

"Oh my God, Paul, is everything okay? Did I do something wrong?"

"No. It's just that ... this isn't what I'm used to ... this is ... it's..."

Jane smiled, leaned forward, and picked up right where she'd left off. A moment or two later she broke off and started kissing my ear.

"I believe the word you're looking for is 'romantic' ", she whispered, then she licked my ear lobe and bit down on it, sending a shuddering thrill coursing through my body.

She pulled back away, her hips still slowly and rhythmically grinding into my lap and locked eyes with me. "Take me to bed, lover" ... that voice! ... GOD how I loved that voice!

She refused to get off me so I struggled up off the couch and walked to my bedroom with a hundred pound redheaded, barely five foot succubus clinging to me and trying to see if she could lick the skin off my neck.

We didn't fuck. We made love ... slow, passionate, satisfying, spiritual sex. Considering our previous experiences that night, I lasted for well over an hour. We moved together; each of us in a dance keeping perfect rhythm. I moved on top of Jane. Her sheath was warm, slick, inviting. There were no earth-shattering screams of orgasmic ecstasy ... just a series of shuddering quakes that seemed to spring up from somewhere deep inside the core of her voluptuous, miniature frame. We didn't speak. More often than not, a good portion of every breath I took was air that had just been expelled from her lungs and vice versa. And those eyes ... I really did lose myself in those deep emerald eyes of hers. It felt like my essence spilled out of my body through my eyes and into hers. For a moment or two, there was no discernable Paul or Jane ... just one moving, writhing, completely blissful being.

When we finished, I lay there on my back. Jane on her side under my arm with one leg thrown over me, snoring quietly and I smiled as I recalled Pastor Steven's words. A glimmer of understanding opened up about what he'd referred to as, "a holy obligation".

I woke up to the smell of bacon frying, coffee brewing and a soft, slightly off-key contralto voice lilting in from my kitchen; Jane was singing quietly to herself as she made me breakfast. I stretched and then snuggled back into the warmth of the blankets and pillows that still held her intoxicating scent. I chuckled when I remembered what she had asked me the night before.

"Jane!" I called into the kitchen, "Remember what you asked me last night?"

"What was that, sweetie?" Her voice called back

"I'm not quite ready to give up on this girlfriend thing just yet"

"Anything you say, Sweetie."

Jane's answer grew increasingly louder and I could tell she was bringing me breakfast in bed. I looked up and saw her standing in the doorway to my bedroom dressed only in one of my freshly ironed, shirts (she ironed me a shirt!) holding a tray with my breakfast on it. A single button at the bottom of the shirt kept her pussy hidden from view and formed a V that grew open to her neck showing off generous mounds of milky white breast flesh almost, but not quite to the nipple.