Memories of Harry

I didn't spend the night, the first time we had sex, Harry and I. I didn't after the second time, either. Of course that was the same evening. The second time started quiet and blissful. My hand found his pecker at half-mast and I worked it over a little. Gently, slowly, I caressed his manhood with my fingers. Lightly. I had always been fairly sensitive to my partners' moods and this time was no exception.

Harry breathed easily, occasionally blowing gently in my ear. I like that. Then he nibbled gently on my earlobe. I like that too. When he finally rolled me flat and penetrated my vulva, it was a long slow easing in until our pubes were gently kissing, just as our lips and tongues were gently kissing. I ran the tip of my tongue along his teeth and then I nipped at his lower lip. Our eyes peered into each other. Were we searching for our souls?

Harry tugged and arranged our lower limbs, never breaking that lovely connection down there, until we were close but he wasn't weighing heavily on me. He eased a large pillow closer and under his side. His upper torso was slightly angled so he didn't have to use his arm to keep from pressing too hard on me. Our bellies were touching and I could feel the rhythm of his breathing, just as I knew he could feel mine. This position, a kind of modified missionary position, gave his upper hand free access to my chest, to my breasts and nipples.

Harry had a hairy chest and when he leaned his torso closer so he could kiss my hair—he did that a lot—his chest hair tickled my nipples and they'd harden in response. Harry noticed and grinned. That was one of the loveable things about Harry. He was perceptive. He noticed the little things that turned me on and he did those things. He was very giving.

After we had our bodies arranged to be most comfortable, we didn't move a lot. I felt his erection, his schlong, his prick, start to soften. So I squeezed him with my vagina. With just a couple of squeezes he hardened again. "Thank you," he whispered. "How long can you wait to do that?"

"I'm not sure I know what you mean."

"Well, it takes a few minutes for my erection to soften. Can you bring me back to full attention from any stage I'm in?"

"Gee, I don't know. We could experiment. I think as long as you're fully inside me I could probably do it."

"It would be like a hand job, wouldn't it? Only with different fingers." Harry grinned and gently tweaked a nipple. One of mine. I think he was a very happy man right then. I know I was a happy woman. Harry bent his head and neck until he could reach my breast. One touch of his agile tongue and the nipple sprang to attention. Yes sir. What ever you want sir. Harry withdrew his tongue and dribbled warm moisture on my tit. Then he slowly lowered his lips and engulfed almost my whole breast.

Now I may have mentioned that I'm not exactly small in the titty department, except when I'm lying on my back. Like most women's boobies, they tend to flatten out some in that position. Harry managed to suck most of that breast into his mouth until I think my nipple was touching the back of his throat. I was getting deep throated! Wow. What a sensation. I loved it. I could feel a new flood of juices wetting my crotch and Harry's manhood.

Kind of an odd label for that. Package is another, to me, slightly weird label for those parts of the male body, although it's the kind of slang we can use in public. Personally I prefer to be more direct. Penis, prick, pecker, schlong. I'll get around to my parts sometime. Right now I was floating on a lovely bed of sensations. Harry shifted his hips slowly which moved his main digit, the one inside me. It vibrated across my G-spot and twanged my brain. I have an active imagination. I could visualize that dark, moist, pulsating tube called my vagina. Right now it was crowded in there. Harry's prick was in there throbbing too. The little hole at the very end was dribbling a clear slippery fluid that blended nicely with my own essential juice.

Now I was in a quandary. I was totally getting high on this filled, throbbing, pulsing feeling with Harry in me and my breast in his mouth. I wanted to taste his slippery self, that stuff that was leaking out of that little hole. But to do that, I'd have to get Harry out of my crotch, and I was pretty sure he didn't want to withdraw. Hell, I didn't want him to withdraw. I decided to wait for another time. By this juncture in our relationship I was damn sure there'd be another time.

Harry did something to my breast and I mewed. He raised his head. "Did I hurt you?"

I tried to bring his head back to my chest. "Are you serious?" I hissed. "More, more. I love it. How long can you keep this up?"

"I really can't say. I haven't had an opportunity like this for years, decades, probably."

"Poor baby," Maybe we can do this again some time."

"Oh, most definitely." He was starting to move his hips, thrusting just a little. "Maybe you should move in with me. That is if you're interested." He was moving just a little faster.

"Oh, yes," I gasped. My toes were tingling and my nipples had now both risen to full attention. "I am definitely interested." My breath was getting a little ragged. Harry's wonderful rhythm increased. I had one hand on the back of his neck. I slid my free hand down his flank and over his nicely rounded ass cheek. When he thrust, I pulled, he withdrew a little and thrust again and again I pulled. More. I wanted more. What was it he'd offered a little while ago? My brain was overloading with sensation.

"Umm," he whispered. "I don't think I can hold out much longer."

I was getting a little delirious. My mouth was open and my head was falling back. Through slitted eyes I watched sensations rolling across Harry's face. He was having a fine time. I hoped he wasn't about to have a heart attack. His hips began to move with ever more urgency. But every so often he would stop and withdraw until just the head of his prick was inside my soaking wet lips. I was wetter than I could ever remember being. I was having some of the best sex of my life. I was flying. I pulled my knees up a little and the next time Harry delivered a long thrust into my love canal I pulled my knees up high and squeezed his waist. Without any direction from me that I remember, my pelvis met Harry's thrust and my vagina muscle contracted as hard as I could manage.

He clenched his butt under my hand and I heard him cry out, not words but some ancient almost thankful cry of victory, of joy, of relief. My eyes few open and shut and I couldn't seem to get a real breath as I spasmed again and again. My orgasm ripped through me and every muscle flexed. I was floating on a sex-induced high such as I had never experienced before.

When I returned to the real world a few minutes later, almost nothing had changed. Harry was still inside me, quiescent now, the sheets were wet, there was a pool of sweat between my breasts and Harry was dripping tiny beads of sweet perspiration from his hairline. His face was shiny and he was grinning at me. Not smiling, grinning. I caressed his side and hip and felt the thin sheen of his lovely sweat under my fingertips.

I wiggled my hips and felt the squishing sensation of cum beginning to drip onto my ass. Harry didn't ask me if I was okay, if I was satisfied. He knew. He didn't immediately roll over and go to sleep and he didn't offer me a cigarette. It was pretty obvious we weren't doing the post-coital cliché thing. But he did compliment me on my orgasm. He said it was beautiful and he felt privileged to have witnessed it.

I didn't know what to say, so I said nothing.

Eventually we got off the bed and Harry gave me a robe. I would have been perfectly happy to stay naked, but since he put a robe on, I did too. He gave me towels and I showered. So did he, separately. I realized that he was deliberately making space around each of us. Was he regretting his offer? Did he not want a return engagement? I sure wanted. In fact my licentious self was yelling in my ear. "Make a move. Say something. Don't let this dude get away." I remained silent.

Downstairs Harry said he'd drive me home, although it wasn't all that far and it was still surprisingly early. He offered me a glass of water and we sat on the porch. I remember it like it was yesterday. Harry put his glass on the table and took my hand.

Leaning forward in his chair he said, "I meant what I said before. I would be thrilled if you would move in here with me. I will give you—"

I didn't let him finish. "Yes, Harry," I interrupted. "I will, I will move in. We will have a grand time together, for however long it lasts. However long it's good for both of us." I leaned forward and kissed his mouth, gently, closed lips, a kind of seal of our agreement.

Harry drove me home then and I don't think we said three words the whole twelve blocks. I got out of the car and went around to the driver's side. Harry had the window down. I kissed his bearded cheek and touched the end of his nose with one finger. We smiled at each other and I went in.