Jim bent his head and brought his mouth to her most intimate, supreme secret place. He inhaled deeply, drinking in the scent of woman for the first time, the aroma traveling to the farthest recesses of his brain, never to be forgotten. The sweet, salty flavor mingled with his own saliva creating a tonic fit for the gods. Her legs opened even wider as he thrust his tongue deep within, tasting, savoring. When Catherine bucked against him and started to pull away Jim wrapped his young, strong arms around her thighs and hips, pulling her closer still. The more he licked and explored the wetter and more open she became.
“Please,” she whispered, panting, “Please, please, please penetrate me.”
Jim almost lost control at her pleading words. He pulled away and raked his eyes over her naked, wanting body. His cock ached. Carefully he touched the tip of his spear to her glistening folds. Catherine lifted her hips off the bed, encouraging him as he thrust forward. She clenched her walls around his virgin cock and he shuddered from head to toe. One deep plunge, then another and another. He didn’t want it to end. The intensity was akin to pain he’d felt when hitting his thumb hard with a hammer. Except this wasn’t pain. It was pleasure of the highest sort. He was no longer a boy or a man with arms, legs and hands. He was a hard, pulsing cock and nothing else. In. Out. In. Out. In and out of the tight, warm wetness. Her scream broke his thin grasp of control. His back arched as he dove in hilt deep, balls clenched tight and the release that came spurting through his cock poured from his entire being.
Jim collapsed upon her and was still.
Gentle fingers ran up and down his back. Tender lips nibbled at his ear. Something warm and soft was pressed beneath him. Wait. He was inside something soft and warm. Jim lifted his head and looked down. Only an angel could look like that, he thought. Large, luminous eyes blinked slowly while swollen, orange-red lips smiled up at him. A halo of vibrant red waves encircled a face covered in the creamiest skin he’d ever seen.
“Hullo there,” the angel spoke.
Jim just blinked.
“I’ve been wondering when you’d come to. You’ve been borderline unconscious for the last five minutes or so,” she said with a throaty chuckle.
A horn blared behind Jim, startling him out of his reminiscing. He didn’t know how long he’d remained stopped while the light changed from red to green. With a gentle push on the throttle, he truck eased on towards Main Street and the Cafe on the Square.
Seventy-seven years had taken a toll his body—one that he particularly felt in his knees and right hip. But inside, when Jim let himself drift back to the first time he saw her at the filling station, he was seventeen again and on the brink of that glorious summer spent in California, far way from the Kansas plains.
Parts three and four of this short series are dedicated to the men who bravely answered my plea for help and gave me a glimpse into the male psyche. Thank you. So much.