Gramma Torrie Ch 05

I woke as he was slipping inside of me again, that wonderful pressure, that delightful stretching as I felt him push himself all of the way in, and then suddenly his head went back and I could feel the tension in him and I was leaking his hot sticky semen down the crack of my ass as he finally took his own release.

He kissed me, very softly and whispered "I was kind of hoping you wouldn't wake up until I was cumming." I giggled and he smiled and then he was kissing me again, softly, tenderly, as he allowed his body to relax after the spasm of his pleasure.

For the rest of the night we would sleep for a while and then one or the other would awaken and snuggle and kiss and then the other would be awake for a while while we played and explored, learning each other's bodies.

"Do you know," I said during one of our waking periods, "that you are the first man who ever made me climax?"

"Never?" he asked, with a smile.

"No dear," I said, "never. In fact, you are the first man who ever undressed me. To be honest," and I giggled a little, "you're the first man I ever saw naked and, well, you know," I could feel myself blushing a little, "erect."

He jumped up then, went to the switch on the wall by the door, and turned on the overhead light. It hadn't been completely dark since the bedroom door was open and one of the lamps in the living room was still on. But it hadn't been really lit up either.

I squealed and automatically reached for the sheet to cover myself, but he grabbed it before I could.

"Ohhhhhhh no," he said, drawing out the vowel, "let's see what we got."

And so I laid there while he inspected me.

There was a feeling of absolute nakedness and I found it oddly exciting. He moved my hands above my head and then carefully "inspected" the soft skin on the inside of my upper arms. I was terribly aware of how soft it was, just skin hanging loose where my arms had once been kind of full.

I squealed a little when he bent and lightly licked from the inside of my elbow to my armpit.

He was lightly touching and kissing and caressing every square inch of my skin. My breasts were lifted and squeezed gently, and the nipples rolled and pinched lightly. When his fingers ran down my ribs he learned how ticklish I am when I did a sort of involuntary sit-up, my head actually knocking against his cheekbone as he drew back.

I was wallowing in the attention. Loving that he seemed to really, really want to learn my body.

And I was embarrassed too. I was aware of every wrinkle and soft spot.

He finished at my feet and I have never been more aware of my thick nails. But he was lightly playing, softly caressing. Even when he started playing with those nails with his fingernail, and found the thick calluses I enjoyed what was happening. And I found my, well, my modesty I guess, slipping away.

He finished with my feet, making me laugh so hard I was afraid I'd wet the bed when he tickled them. Then he squirmed around and sat back on his heels, smiling down at me.

"What do you call them?" he asked, his fingertips brushing my breasts, giving me that delightful rush of sensation as my nipples tightened.

I giggled and said, "well, my breasts. Sometimes my titties. I really don't have enough to call them jugs or hooters or something like that."

I was aware of how flat they were since I had lost my fat cells. The mammary glands were small and dry as he lifted and played with them.

"I think," he said, a very serious look on his face, "that this is Abigail," lifting and squeezing my right breast gently, "and this is Veronica," doing the same to the left.

"I see," I said, giggling, "and do you like Abigail or Veronica better?"

He frowned then, concentrating.

"Welllllll," he said, "Abby," and he bent and kissed my right nipple very softly, "seems a bit plumper but Ronnie," and he kissed the left, just as softly, "is cuter."

I reached up and lifted and pushed them together, the nipples almost touching, and said, "wellllll, they like you too."

He kissed and played with them then, sending those delightful tingles up and down my body.

He sat back again, in that interesting position, his back straight, sitting on his own heels, and looked slowly down my body.

"And this," he asked, his fingertips brushing between my legs where my lips were swollen and very tender, very sensitive, "what do you call this?"

"Oh God," I sort of moaned, "my hoo-ha?"

He laughed and bent and surprised me by kissing where he was touching.

"From now on," he said, flashing The Grin, "this is Madeline."

"You're crazy, you know that, right," I said.

And he kissed me, my own scent faint on his lips from where he had kissed me earlier.

"Crazy about you," he said.

He used his hands to roll me onto my belly and I felt his fingers on my back.

"Your angel wings," he said, brushing softly across my shoulder blades.

His finger touched each vertebra making me shiver a little with each separate touch.

When he got to the base of my spine his fingertip probed, finding my tailbone and sending another little shock up my back and around the front too, making me squirm a little.

"You need to be careful," he said, "and be a good girl."

"Oh?" I asked, smiling into the pillow, "and why is that?"

"Because this pretty little bottom," he said, his hand caressing, making me squirm some more, "is saying 'naughty girls need spankings'."

And I felt a little rush on my belly.

Oh, heck, let's be honest and say I felt a huge rush in my belly as I remembered the time Chester had caught me buying new pillows without clearing the purchase with him. That spanking had left me crying and panting and, in some strange way, satisfied.

"I'll be good," I said.

"And what do you call it?" I asked.

"Call it?" I asked.

He patted and said, "this."

And I giggled again.

"My butt, I guess," I said.

"Welllllllll," he said, "from now on it's going to be Bambi."

"Standard spelling," he added and I laughed.

I tensed when I felt his fingers parting my cheeks, knowing he was looking back there.

I couldn't stop the little gasp when I felt his fingertip touch.

"What are you doing?" I asked, stupidly I suppose. It was pretty obvious what he was doing.

"Exploring," he said, his fingertip making little circles that made me want to tense up.

"What if I don't like it," I asked.

"Then I'll stop, of course," he said, "all you have to do is say 'stop'."

But I didn't. I couldn't bring myself to tell him to stop. It was odd, and I was fighting a lifetime of taboos. Besides, I was remembering what he had said - good sex is often messy but never dirty.

He played back there, light touches, very tender, never actually penetrating, but I found myself arching my back to meet his fingertip.

He scooted down and traced my legs, making me kick when he tickled behind my knees.

He seemed fascinated with my feet, playing with them, tickling, making me squeal and giggle, then doing piggies to market on my toes making me shriek when I couldn't get away.

He finally released my feet before he had me giggling so hard I peed, moved back up the bed, and used his hands to roll me over again so I was laying on my back.

"You are absolutely stunning," he said, and kissed me, a soft, lingering kiss.

Before I could respond he laid on his back, his hands behind his head, a big grin on his face.

"Your turn toots," he said and his use of that archaic word made me throw back my head and laugh.

"Okay buster," I said, rolling around to sit on my heels and just look at him.

I started at his forehead, tickling his hairline, liking the way it sort of scrunched up when I tickled so lightly. I ran my fingertip over his eyebrows lightly and then his eyelids, feeling the shape of his eye under the soft thin skin. I bent down and kissed each eyelid lightly and heard a soft little hum as I did.

I continued, learning his face like a blind woman. My fingertips explored the shape of his nose, felt the ridges of his cheekbones, the shape of his lips, enjoying his mouth pursing as I did. And I kissed him, long but very softly, allowing my tongue to trace his lips as he had taught me.

I was aware of the way I was leaking, hot and sticky onto my own feet, and the only word I can think of to describe the sensation is "wanton."

I continued my exploration, tickling his arms and playing with the light hair in his armpit. I found his nipples, hard, and bent to suck them gently drawing another of those wonderful little hums from him. He yelped a little when I nipped, right on the tip of his nipple, making me giggle.

And then I was gathering my courage to run my hand down the ridge of his belly, his hard belly at that, until my hand was brushing his soft penis. I took him into my hand, enjoying the feel of him, not hard, but warm and firm. I bent to kiss him there, something else I had never done before.

He surprised me by hardening almost instantly and I kissed the tip of it, another first for me. But it was inspection time and so I leaned back and continued, finding his balls in his scrotum and lifting them gently, weighing them in my hand, and enjoying the stillness in his body as I had him where he was so sensitive. Down his legs now, sort of ticking the hair I found there. His shins turned out to be very ticklish and I liked making him squirm. He had ticklish feet too and when I did the little piggies he was actually squealing.

My exploration complete, well, at least half complete, I was VERY aware that I still had his back to do, I gathered my courage and crawled up so that my knees were straddling his waist. I took his erection in my hand and lifted it so that I could lower myself onto it, accepting his entire length into my body.

He chuckled a little then and I heard him say "Ride 'em cowgirl" and that made me giggle.

"You DO realize, don't you," I said, settling onto him so that his entire length was inside of me, "that this is another first. Actually," and I giggled a little again, "two more firsts."

He was smiling up at me, "What's that Torrie?"

"Well," I said, and gave my hips a little shake, "this is the first time I was ever on top."

He started to respond to that but I put my fingertip on his lips.

"Annddd," I drew the word out, "it is the first time I ever had a conversation with someone inside of me."

His eyes met mine and he said "do you like it?"

And I hissed "yesssssssssssssssssssssssssss."

And then I was riding him, seeking my release, and there it was. I threw back my head as I came and two more thrusts of my skinny hips and I felt his release, filling me as only a man can fill a woman.

Good sex, it turns out, is hard work. I collapsed, spent, and kissed him before drifting off to sleep as his strong hands caressed my back as he softened and slipped out.