Lucy Again

The blond is asleep.

Even though I'd moaned, rolled over, scratched my balls, made the bed creak as I got out of it, closed the bathroom door a tad too noisily, peed a fierce stream into the toilet, washed, brushed, flushed, and stubbed my toe on the way out of the bathroom, the girl still hadn't stirred from her slumber.

Last night had been crazy. Drinking, friends, teasing each other with coy looks, and flirting with other people at the party until the anticipation had grown until neither of us thought could take much more. Our host had seen the last couples out and shown us to a spare bedroom. Passionate and vigorous sex had followed. Every time, still feels like the first time. Each time, I tell her, "This is the best..." Is it possible? She is everything to me; everything I've ever wanted. What did I do to deserve her? Really. What? And am I good enough for her? Certainly, she deserves more.

But all of that left my mind as I exited the bathroom. Silently cursing the throbbing toe and the door frame that it had hit, I stopped short as the glimpse of the bed pushed all other thoughts from my mind. Naked, except for her heels which I'd insisted that she keep on, she lie nearly face down, a demi-glory of golden hair radiant around her head. The morning sun burst upon that halo of her locks and cast a golden glow on her pale and creamy skin. The curve of her shoulders, the shape of her legs, her perfectly formed rump all clamored for attention. One crisp white sheet barely lay across the spot where she'd tattooed a tribute to her first female lover, but otherwise, she was bare.

Desperate desire returned to my thoughts. Every time I see her, I immediately think that I must have her. ;What can I do to possess her just one more time?" Every time I'd expressed my anxiety that she might leave, that maybe I wasn't enough, she'd comforted me, quieted me with assurances that this wasn't merely a passing fling. She always says, "Quiet, silly. This is real. You couldn't get away if you wanted to..."

And yet, every time I look at her, I can't accept that she is really mine. Each time might be the last. Each kiss may be final. Why do I torment myself with these thoughts of her wanting more than I can give?

But now, standing at the foot of the bed, semi flaccid, and mentally buzzing, I want to wake her. Arouse her in a way that shows that not only am I appreciative, but that I'm ready to be her equal; a partner that is not only on par with her but able to give back and truly deserve the love she has shown me. The lover who can possess her without suffocating her being.

I laugh to myself that she has slept in her new red heels. She has done this for me. She knows what it does to me to see her shapely legs in spiked heels, strappy stilettos, or peep toe pumps. She suspects—no, she knows--that I've got a fetish for her pretty feet in sexy shoes and she tortures and torments me by wearing them anytime she can justify it. She teases me with visual delights. When our love making had subsided last night, she'd fallen immediately asleep, never removing the new shoes that had driven me crazy as I alternately caressed her feet and watched her clenching backside as she rode me in a "reverse cowgirl".

And now I am going to wake her, repay her for the pleasure she has bestowed on me.

I softly rub her feet, ankles, and calves. She doesn't stir, but then, I'm being so gentle that she might not feel me even if she was awake.

I lean further across her, applying slightly more pressure as I caress her upper calves and the pit of her knees. Gentle kisses applied to each thigh mark my upward progress as I feel my stiffening cock make contact with shoe leather. Moving further, I tickle my tongue into the small crease where her upper leg meets the bottom of her sexy ass. Each of her legs is stretched out straight as my tongue laves the gentle curve of her right cheek. My nearly fully stiff prong dribbles pre-cum onto the shapeliest ankles I've ever known. God, this girl drives me crazy...

Still there is no movement or sound from the beautiful blond who lies sleeping on our borrowed bed. Gossamer kisses and nibbling bites arouse the goose pimples of flesh above her waist and I return to apply my tongue to her ass; the object of my mouth's journey over her milky skin. My pointed tongue dips down to where the cleft between her cheeks starts high on her butt and pries at the tender flesh there. My hands move smoothly across each cheek, marveling at the soft texture, the perfect globe of each half, and the firmness of the musculature beneath. This is all for me; I will take what is mine. I must possess her.

She moans softly in her sleep as I massage her upper thighs, carefully pushing her legs apart and exposing the prizes below my gaze. Her bare and beautiful lips are still slightly pink from the rambunctious night before. While I'm rubbing her inner thighs, she unconsciously moves her legs ever further apart and I move a hand towards her silken skinned sheath. Touching the outer lips, she opens for me like a flower, a bud blooming with the first touch of spring's warmth. My hand softly strokes the middle of her sex and she starts to lubricate. She squirms but does not awake, not yet.

My other hand insistently pushes apart her cheeks further, exposing both of her intimate places. She unknowingly responds to my finger and thumb pulling and twisting her awakened clitoris and saliva drips from my tongue towards the shy rosebud of her anus. It doesn't seem possible that she is still asleep, but if she isn't, she's doing a good job of staying relaxed and letting me have my way with her. A soft moan escapes from her mouth, muffled by the pillows where her head is buried. More spittle drips to her crinkled button and it opens slightly of its own accord. My fingers pry and play in her pussy, my tongue makes contact with the darker skin around her wrinkled butthole.

Now she is awake, but only vaguely aware of what's going on. It's not every day that she awakes with fingers on her sensitive clit and a gentle tongue prying its way into her ass.

"Oh, Honey what...," she begins. The head moves slightly, then, "Ooh, that's nice," she coos.

From her reaction, I know that this will not be the first time I wake her this way. She squirms a little, but I keep her clit trapped between my kneading fingers. My tongue tip pokes at her tight little rear-most hole. Flattening my tongue, I lap at the delicate and sensitive skin around it. As my first and second fingers slide over her clit again and again, my thumb teases the entrance to her slippery hole. Finding a willing and wanton slit, the thumb pushes further inside her.

"That's it. Baby, don't stop. Unghhh!" she whimpers as my fingers and tongue grow ever more insistent at violating her. Without moving my fingers from her snatch, I lift slightly until she takes the hint and pushes her butt further up allowing me greater access to her...all of her.

She flows. Moisture drips onto my hands as I work her sweet pussy expertly. She pushes her legs further apart and forces her buttocks higher, silently willing me to force my tongue into her asshole. She's close and I am the instrument of her pleasure, a role I am all too willing to play.

I taste her backside; I can smell her arousal flowing from her pussy. She nearly bucks me off as the first wave of pleasure rolls through her loins. I re-apply my sugar coated fingers to the engorged nub atop of her cunt and gently work my tongue back down into the cleft of her ass. There are no secrets between us; she is open to me, my fingers, and my tongue. Nothing is hidden; I possess her pussy, her clit, and her ass. I work harder to make her happy. She deserves this.

More orgasms rush through her as the dual sensations from her secret places overwhelm her senses. I won't be thrown off this time. I wiggle my fingers and my tongue. The taste of her, the smells, the texture of her insides have me near my own orgasm, but I ignore it. This is about her, my sweet darling who does anything for me and deserves all I can give her.

And what I give her is more. More finger strokes to her protruding and sensitive clit. More thrusts to her soft and willing hole. More tongue lashes to the tight and puckered passage of her ass. And more is what she wants. More orgasms wash over her and more moans escape her mouth. More pushing back against my dual intrusions, more sensations are forced upon her. And the orgasms—oh the orgasms—attack her like a precision guided sledge hammer, more, more, more! She is greedy for them and like a wealthy man who shares freely with his best friend, I give them to her. She humps, clenches, moans, flattens, arches, and spends her energies against me. I frantically pleasure her, repaying only a small part of how she makes me feel; I fight to keep up with the squirming and lovely creature below me. She stops breathing, she suspends her movements, and she delights in the white light of her climax that possesses every part of her, blinding her, holding her, enrapturing her. I hold my fingers and tongue still, knowing that when she tips over the top of her massive orgasm, she will be too sensitive for further sensation.

She is awake. She is alive with her own pleasures. She is awash in the warmth of her orgasms and returning to being still again. She is beautiful in the after glow of her flaming passion. I can hear her breathing as it returns to normal. Her squirming and thrashing have stopped, she is sated.

Lucy is asleep.