Author's note: Thanks to KS as always. This chapter picks up exactly where Chapter 7 ends - me between Jane's legs!
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The smell from Jane's cunt was fantastic. As soon as I had smelt my first ever pussy—I was hooked. It turned me on something rotten, which, of course, was what it was meant to do. My first pussy had, of course, been a turned-on one, which I learnt later had a particular aroma. When I smelt my first non-aroused cunt, I discovered to my joy I loved it just as much!
Jane's pussy scent on this occasion was very much in the aroused category, with just a hint of something different. I realised it was the slightly bleachy smell of cum—hardly surprising, given I had pumped two loads in her not long ago.
I knelt there for a minute just taking deep breaths.
"Christ, you smell fucking gorgeous!"
"Thank you, sweetie!" she answered, slightly nervous. She had been taken aback when I had told her how much I loved her smell, aroused or not, and had hesitated before letting me have my first straight sniff. She had gotten into it by now, but I suppose the convention against people liking other people's personal smells was a hard one to overcome.
Reaching out gently, I found Jane's legs and eased them as far apart as they would go, without causing discomfort. My fingers then very gently trailed all over her thighs—top, sides, and under.
The most surprising reaction I got, was when I stroked her behind her knees. She instantly gasped and I felt her bum move through her legs.
"You like that?" I said.
"A definite erogenous", she breathed, with a slight pant. This increased noticeably, as I spent some time just stroking and caressing.
"Oh, you fucker!" she groaned, and I felt her legs spread even more. Grinning, I finally sent my fingers back on their original journey, while my head came down to her left thigh.
"Oh yes, yes, yes!" she exclaimed. My tongue had run in one soft, long lick on the inside from knee to pussy crease. I did exactly the same on her other thigh, and alternated while my hands moved slowly up her ribs and tummy.
I began little bites and kisses on her thigh, as I gently squeezed each nipple.
"Oh yes!" she groaned again, and I felt her pussy hump. I was squeezing her whole tits more firmly by the time my tongue flicked over her belly button, and followed her abundant treasure trail.
"Ooooh!" she moaned, "oooh, oooh, oooh!"
I was stroking her face very gently, as my tongue explored her creases, then her hair, and finally, very gently, her cunt lips.
"Fuck, yes."
I was back to caressing the back of her thighs up to her knees, when I let my tongue find her main lips and begin slow, steady licks up and down.
"Shit, you tease!"
Her hands then came down to the back of my head to press me in. I let her grind her very hot, wet twat against my face for a minute or so. It brought a little first cum out of her.
She was still tense though, for the later big ones, and leapt a bit when my tongue found her clit, and began infinitesimal movements.
"Oh, lick me, lick me, lick me!" she shouted, and gasped.
I did exactly that, finally having to grip her hips gently to hold her in place. With her pussy secure, I was merciless. I licked, sucked and bit to my heart's content. I had to rest a couple of times because pussy licking takes a lot out of your tongue.
She didn't seem to notice. Even when I was resting, she was humping furiously and writhing in joy. I pulled her nipples quite hard and she cried out.
My face was soaking, as was my neck.
"Make me cum!" she suddenly croaked. I obliged—sucking hard on her clit, I alternately bit and licked it. She tensed her whole body going rigid for a few seconds. And then she screamed.
My neck and chest felt the jet of cum before I could get my mouth down to cover her hole, and drink her juice in. It tasted lovely. Very cummy, and definitely not wee. She spasmed for several seconds, before suddenly relaxing.
When I moved up next to her on the couch, she immediately hugged and kissed me.
"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" she burbled, kissing me between thanks. "That was the best. I've never cum ever just through a tongue and mouth. Thank—fucking—you!"
To emphasise the last words she almost sucked my mouth into hers.
"I need a bit of a rest though, before we do the toys. I'm fucking knackered!"
I laughed. I always loved her talking prol in that cut-glass accent.
"I'll make a bag woman of you yet!" I teased, moving so we were lying next to each other on the couch.
"About as much of a chance of me making you civilised," she responded.
"How long do divorces take to go through?" I asked a couple of minutes later, as we smoked quietly together.
"A couple of years is the quickest."
"That means the earliest we can get married is 1994."
"If you definitely want to. I know your bonkers leftyism isn't exactly in favour of marriage."
She was right. In the last few years, I had gotten involved in a far-left revolutionary group. While I had not been in it long, and never taken it that seriously, I still had some pretty strong lefty views. Much of them were taken up in my disabled people politics. But I also was dead against the family and everything that came with it, including marriage.
"Good point!" I took a long drag and blew smoke out.
"My problem is I'm about as deep in love with you as I can get, and I don't want to just be in a relationship with you. I couldn't get married in a church with all that religion shit (I had been for several years a fundamentalist, born-again atheist), but we could do a registrar's office."
"Fine by me," Jane said, quietly.
"I'm not an atheist, but definitely agnostic, and don't believe in this god stuff. And you know I'm not a card-carrying Tory."
I knew that. Although I took the piss out of her politics, she was definitely a liberal and could make the occasional feminist statement. She was also much more environmentally conscious than me. We did share a joint commitment to animal welfare. I tried not to use animal-tested cosmetics.
"We could get married somewhere different," she said. "How about on a boat in Sydney harbour?"
"Only if we go the same time as a test match," I said, enthusiastically.
"You and your bloody cricket!" she said, with feigned exasperation.
"At least I don't fancy Pete Sampras," I chided back. Jane was a tennis nut.
"So when does England tour Australia again?"
