"You really have a beautiful body, from your gorgeous face to this perfect, tight pussy," he told me. Ben's fingers traced the inner folds of my lips, swirled along my clitoris, then plunged into the hot, wet center of my body.
He repeated the pattern several times, speeding up with each "circuit" through that part of me. His attentions suddenly centered on my most sensitive nub, and I experienced a minor earthquake, shaking and trembling with the intensity of the pleasure Ben was bringing me. When I came, it felt like lava shooting through my veins, melting any last concerns except two: I wanted more of this, and more time with Ben.
With a bright-red face that matched the color of his rapidly growing cock, Ben said he was too hot to stay inside. He pulled himself out of the pool and lay down on the muddy ground nearby. I followed him, trying to decide what to do in order to bring him more pleasure. Somehow, I felt like I owed him much more than I had given him.
Shyly, I stood over his prone body. I said, "I'd like to try something now... If that's okay with you."
Ben smiled and nodded, his eyes wandering across my body possessively. The way he looked at me was almost as thrilling as what I planned to do next.
I placed one foot on either side of his hips, slowly squatting down so that I could center myself over his thick hardness. His gaze sank with me, tracing my hips and thighs, clearly relishing the view of my naked body spread open before him. I realized I would probably lose my balance if I tried to stay on the balls of my feet, so I momentarily rested on top of Ben, my breasts flattened against his hot, unyielding chest as I shifted myself to a kneeling position.
Reaching down between us, I ran my small hand along the velvety skin of his shaft, awestruck that I could cause him to grow and swell that way. Driven by curiosity, I let my hand wander momentarily lower, stroking and cupping the soft, hairy globes below, gently kneading him. He groaned and I lifted my head to look at his face, smiling in triumph to have such a strong man so obviously at my mercy.
His hands came up to grip my bottom, grinding me against him. Reluctantly, I removed my hand from his balls and slid it up to the head of his penis, using that as a guide so that I could join our bodies together again. Even though we had done this only a few minutes ago, it was still a tight fit. But once he was fully inside of me again, I was overcome with a feeling of rightness – we were designed to couple this way, and it was my privilege to bring him as much pleasure as I had received.
I felt Ben push his hips up against me, his big, rough hands still anchoring me to his body. He began to lift and rock me, and I followed his lead. Our pace was slower than before, as if we were both just savoring the wonder of what we were doing. The skies opened up, and the water pummeling our naked skin made the heat between us seem so much more intense.
The sensation of the rain coursing across me brought my attention to my breasts, bouncing and bobbing with each thrust we made. Small droplets kissed my nipples before plunging to my tummy and trickling down to the wonderful spot where Ben's body penetrated my own. Closing my eyes, I cupped my breasts, pinching and twisting my hard, pink buds between my fingers.
I felt teeth nip at my hands and my eyes flew open. Ben urged my hands away from my breasts with his mouth, sucking and biting first one, then the other nipple. I cradled his head against my chest, pulling him closer and arching my back so that he could access more of me. But no matter how close we were, it wasn't enough for either of us.
With a growl, Ben rolled over, taking me with him. I flopped in the mud, rain falling all around as he leaned into me. He pushed my knees up to my aching breasts, opening me to his onslaught before pulling almost fully out of my yearning body. As he slammed home, it was my turn to moan and growl, his relentless drive fueling my own. That now-familiar tingling started, and with every thrust, I moved closer to the edge. Feeling the liquid fire of Ben's own blast deep inside me, I screamed as I was blown apart by my own explosion. My body convulsed momentarily, as if I had lost complete control over myself.
The rain stopped and the sun came out. I was still lying in the mud, Ben on top of me. He pulled out of my body, and I felt the juices of our act begin to trickle out of me, too. In the bright light of day, covered in grime, I began to feel something I probably should have as soon as I realized he was in the pool with me: deep-down embarrassment. He was a stranger, and I had let him touch me and do things to me that I knew I shouldn't let anybody do, except my own husband. There was no other explanation for my behavior, except that I was every bit as wild as my parents thought I was, and now I had the proof of my own wicked, wanton self in the sticky fluid between my thighs.
In a panic, I wriggled out from under Ben and scrambled into the hot spring. I furiously rubbed my skin to get the mud off then tried to rinse the evidence of what we had done from deep within me. I turned my back to Ben as I tried to scrub the shame from my body, but I knew that what I felt was deeper than anything that clean water could reach. I washed the remaining dirt from my hair before climbing out on the far side of the pool from Ben. I quickly located my belongings and got dressed as fast as possible. Only then did I turn to look at this man, my first lover.
On his face and in his eyes, I could see a kind of bewildered hurt. He asked, "Are you really just going to leave now? After all that we... I think we have something really special here."
I felt treacherous, burning tears well up as I said, "It's not you. You're pretty much perfect. It's me. I need to face the truth about myself – that I'm sinful and willful and hedonistic – and that I should never have let this happen. I'm sorry, but I really have to go."
All I wanted to do was run into his arms, because I knew that with a few touches, he could make me forget what was going on in my mind. But instead, I turned away and began my short hike home. After I was sure that he wasn't following me, I finally allowed myself to cry.
Once I was home, I put on my pajamas and climbed into bed. In the growing darkness, I thought of Ben and the magic between us. A tremendous sorrow welled up inside of me, but it was too much to cry about. Instead, I closed my eyes and willed myself to sleep.
The next morning, my father was surprised to find all of the fight gone out of me. I agreed to meet with men he considered to be possible suitors; it seemed like my only chance to rein in my wicked nature. And I tried to tell myself that I might find a husband who could make me feel the way that Ben did, so we could live together happily.
It didn't take long for my father to line up a first date for me. His name was Daniel and he would come to dinner at our house, then he and I would go back to his place to meet his dad. Around 27 years old, Daniel was passably attractive – a little taller than me with a thin, wiry frame and a shock of curly blonde hair. I wasn't sure what color his eyes were – I could tell they were dark, but he barely looked at my face during dinner. He seemed reasonably smart, but shy and a little awkward, and I felt guilty for spending the entire evening comparing him unfavorably to Ben.
My mom smiled encouragingly as Daniel helped me put on a jacket and held the front door open for me. My father reminded us that he expected me to be home in a couple of hours. I climbed into Daniel's pickup for the long, silent ride to his home.
When we arrived, Daniel quickly walked around the truck to open the door and help me down from the cab. It was a polite thing to do, and I smiled warmly at him. He briefly returned my smile, then took my hand and tugged me along, up the stairs to the front porch and quickly pulled me inside of the house he shared with his father.
Daniel's father, Mr. Callaghan, was waiting for us in the front room. He was confined to a wheelchair, and my opinion of Daniel rose when I realized he had probably stayed home to take care of his dad rather than going out in the world on his own. Mr. Callaghan looked at me with such intensity that I felt nervous, shifting from foot to foot and smoothing my long skirt with slightly damp palms.
Mr. Callaghan said, "You make a striking couple, both fair and tall. But such a slim girl may not be able to bear children. Holly child, come here and let me look more carefully at you."
As I stepped forward, he kept gesturing to urge me closer, only stopping when my knees brushed his. Without a word, he put his hands on my waist, then slid them down to my hips as if measuring my breeding potential. Frowning, he said, "I really can't tell if you're developed enough to be a good wife for my Daniel. You're going to have to remove your outer garments so that I can make a better assessment."
I balked and stepped back, blushing furiously. "Mr. Callaghan, it's really not proper for me to undress in front of you or your son. I mean, we're not even engaged..."