Chapter Seven
Torrie's Story
As I woke I was having an odd, stream of consciousness conversation with myself.
He said he loves me. So what you crazy old bitch. He's a man he'll say anything to get what he wants. But he said it like he meant it. Jesus, and you believed him? I think I did. Oh shit, crazy and stupid too. But I think I love him. Don't be THAT stupid you twit, think about it. It's all I think about. God DAMN it, Torrie, you're three times his age for Christ's sake. But he said he loves me. He made your body happy, dummy. Well, he did that, that's for damn sure. You're a crazy old woman, you know that don't you? I suppose I am, but he said he loves me. And you, what about you? Me? I'm scared. Why are you scared. Because I'm head over heels, crazy, stupid in love. Oh shit, you're in lust. ((GIGGLES)) Well, I won't deny that. Get over yourself you crazy slut. He said he loves me.
"Who are you talking to?" he asked, snuggling against me and I yelled, startled awake.
He was hard against my back making my skin tighten into a mass of goosebumps.
"Just a crazy old woman, talking to herself," I said, giggling a little.
"It sounded," he murmured, his hand slipping around to cup my breast, Veronica I thought and giggled again, "like you were arguing with yourself. Did you at least win?"
I squirmed around to face him and kissed him, the most thorough kiss I had ever given. My tongue was seeking his, my hand was exploring his back, my back was arching, closing all of the distance between us.
"Yes," I said when I broke the kiss.
"And what were you arguing about?" he asked.
"Oh, just silly old woman stuff," I said.
He pushed himself to arm's length and said, "like what," looking me in the eye.
I was blushing fiercely when I said, "did you mean it?"
"Mean it?" he asked.
He smiled. No, that's not quite true. He flashed The Grin that I both loved and hated. Right then I hated it.
"Did you mean what you said?" I asked.
"What I said?" he asked and I got made then, suddenly, inexplicably really, mad.
I raised myself onto my elbow and punched him. Okay, it wasn't much of a punch but it was the best I could do.
"You said you loved me," I said, "did you mean it?"
"What do you think?" he asked and I just lost it.
I was crying, bawling really, my body wracked with sobs, and I was yelling.
"Please, Roger," I said, well, actually more like, "P-p-p-please R-r-r-roger, don't tease me about this."
He wrapped me in his arms and covered my face with kisses. Slick, snotty kisses as it happened since when I cry my nose runs terribly. When I tried to get my hands up between us he pulled me even closer.
"Yes," he whispered, "I meant it."
More kisses while I got myself under control.
"I didn't plan it," he went on, "I don't claim to understand it, but yes," and he stopped what he was doing to kiss me a dozen more times, literally covering my face with kisses, "I love you."
And I was crying now, even harder, but this time it was pure tears of joy.
"God help me," I managed, "I love you too."
He rolled me onto my back and I expected him to take me then. God knows I was ready. But instead, he got his knees outside of mine, holding mine together, as he started kissing his way down my body.
He was very gentle, his lips soft and just slightly moist, very warm, as he kissed and very gently sucked on my neck and my throat, taking in the soft wattle under my chin. He kissed my shoulders and then lifted my arms over my head and kissed my armpits and the soft skin on the inside of my upper arms.
He spent time on my breasts kissing them and finding my nipples, sucking gently and then a little harder, then kissing that tender skin where my saggy titties normally laid against my body. He kissed my ribs and the hollow where my ribs met the skin of my belly.
And he didn't stop.
He kissed the soft skin of my belly, made me squeal as he probed my belly button with his tongue, and then blew a raspberry.
Then he rocked, first to one side and then the other, getting his knees between my calves and kept kissing down.
"Oh honey," I said, "you don't have to do that."
He looked up, over the rise of my pubic arch, and smiled, not The Grin but a smile, and said, "I'll stop if you tell me to."
I took a deep breath but I did not say "stop."
I was so nervous when he kissed my nether lips. No man had ever done that before. My body was tense and I could feel my hands trembling as I lay still, my hands above my head as he had left me.
The kiss sent a sharp, almost electric jolt up my body, making my nipples so hard they hurt.
And that pressure, that wonderful pressure of womanneed was sudden and powerful deep in my belly.
And I was still crying. God, I had to look like a crazy woman with snot running down my cheeks and tears down the side of my face, wetting my ears and my hair.
But I was laughing too, the pleasure he was giving me so perfect I couldn't stop it.
His mouth was driving me crazy, soft wet kisses and now I felt him, his fingertips opening me, letting him see things nobody except my gynecologist had ever seen.
I was embarrassed. I was mortified. And I was more excited than I had ever been before.
He opened me further, not quite hurting me, but very close to it, I felt myself stretching and I liked the sensation very much. My hips were rocking in that womanrhythm only a woman can do, and I realized that sound was me, a soft humming, moaning sound.
