We kissed; in fact we started making out, and when a stout cock is inside you, and you've just had your breath taken away in passion, it's an utter revelation. We alternated hard, passionate, lingering kisses with light, brief kisses, in which we felt the softness and pliant texture of our each other's lips. But our main kisses, the reason for doing this, were long, deep, tongue-involved (obviously), and passionate. I thought we kissed as sensually as any couple ever kissed. Conscious of nothing else in the world, we held fast to each other. Meanwhile, Paul started a subtle motion with his hips, which my ever-ready body seconded.
Soon the passion forced us to give up the kissing; now we held tight to each other and fucked hard. Paul rocked into me, steadily, rhythmically, and I rose to meet him and ground my pubic bone against his each time. I was getting my clit stimulated again and again and I just concentrated on that. That, and the feeling of Paul above me, thrusting and thrusting, of this beautiful, driven pagan madman, and I was his world. I was the only other person in his universe. I longed for it, devoured it. The consciousness of the brute force of his sex and the beautiful boy devotedly giving it to me--OH! Right over the top I went again, coming hard around his pounding cock, a sumptuous, dazzling explosion that shook me and blinded me. I was dimly aware, with Paul rocking inside me, that his own thrusting turned desperate and fast, and suddenly he dropped his head to my shoulder, stiffened, and gave a short whine. Then he breathlessly uttered, "OH--OH--OH--OH!" as his cock jumped several times deep inside me. I held his ass hard in my hands. Gasping for air, I reveled in, delighted in, Paul's climax, which I was sure he would not soon forget.
Two people, clinched tightly, gasping for air, conscious of nothing except their wedded flesh and the joy given and received. We breathed for several minutes, clinched together that way. Even at that moment, Paul held himself on his elbows; I didn't feel any heaviness from him, even though my gut could easily get in the way, and often had with partners in the past.
Finally he looked down at me and I touched his sides and he gently slipped out. I rolled over and looked at the clock now. Almost 10:00.
I dragged myself up off the bed, wobbled for a second as I stood. "Oh, sweetheart!" I said.
He replied from the bed with, "Mm."
"I'm claiming first shower," I told him. "You want to shave while I'm doing that, and then you can shower after?"
"Sounds like a plan," he said.
"There's a little water closet downstairs," I said, "where you can do that without steam on the mirror." He was up and heading for his backpack in the other bedroom. "After that, lover, we should go and find something to eat."
"Amen to that."
We arrived in town, with all its touristy kitsch and crowding. I had the conscious attitude that I was showing Paul off. We made for a diner that I know, and through breakfast I watched Paul eat. And eat. French toast--he asked specifically for two portions, and the young waitress promised it readily--two eggs, a croissant, two large sausage patties, coffee, and both bowls of fruit. I included watching him eat as part of watching everything he did. Being out with him was its own reward, but watching him eat--he had excellent manners, by the way--was somehow especially gratifying. I can't explain it. I began to move away from the vague feeling of wanting to keep us a secret; I was just going to enjoy his escorting me to whatever and wherever. We walked hand in hand toward some shops that I knew. Mainly I quelled the most ardent displays of affection I had the urge to show him--that was a tough fight. I couldn't help grinning constantly. Then he'd look at me and grin back. Oh, I was in my glory!
We went into an arcade of shops with all kinds of merchandise--leather goods, kitschy touristy clothes, and some nicer clothes, trinkets, knives, magic sets, fancy game sets, anything and everything. I surreptitiously cupped his sweet ass with my hand a couple of times--Oh god, its shape, softness, the way it gave under my touch. He was very subtle about it: he lifted his chin a bit the first time, but after that feigned that he hadn't felt anything. On the one hand, his not letting on gave me license to keep feeling him up, but I found I was determined to up the ante. I was having so much fun with my adorable boy!
In one small jewelry shop we stood together looking at a case of pretty rings and necklaces. The glass case wasn't a big one, but it was nestled in a fairly secluded corner toward the rear of the shop, and we were standing behind it, just the two of us. I ran my fingertips lightly and slowly on the back of his thigh near the lower curve of his ass. He gasped a little but again, didn't let on. Down my fingers went, slowly and sensually, then back up; I pushed aside the bikini briefs under his shorts and ran my fingertips very lightly over the fine hairs of his bottom, where his cheeks met. His breathing quickened again, but we kept our eyes focused on the jewelry, like misbehaving high schoolers.
Then I boldly moved my thumb up along his ass cheek, skin-to-skin. He swallowed and opened his lips to breathe, still pretending to inspect the jewelry. God I loved the way his skin felt in my hand; I loved the way he submitted to my setting the tone, following my whims when and how I pleased. I reached my hand up under the shorts and palmed his ass, languidly kneading it, making no move to take it away. He shifted on his feet, and I could tell he was getting hard. Keeping my shoulder and upper arm quite still, I reached around to the front of his shorts and slowly slid his small fanny pack around to the side, by his hip. Tightly I held his cock for a second. Then I began to massage it, running my fingers along the underside of it, and using my thumb along the upper side and the tip. His erection grew markedly. Clearly I was pushing the envelope; we hadn't been in such a hidden-away spot before, and I couldn't help taking liberties. His arousal was quite exciting--my heart pounded and I felt the warmth and moisture in my pussy. Damn, I felt naughty, all frisky and reckless.
Leaving him there with his relative privacy, I went to another case to look. I stopped in front of one with knives, not that they interested me. But--another whim--I gave in to naughtiness. I went back to Paul and pulled him by the elbow, hard-on and all, out from behind the case.
"Paul, honey," I said, "I want to show you something. Come on." His eyes got big with panic. "Come on, you've looked at that stuff long enough. I found some cool knives up here."
Even without overtly glancing down at the arousal I'd caused, I knew his shorts were still plainly--and prominently--bulging. Nearby a lean and stylish, but quite plain, older woman got what I'm sure was a clear view of Paul's predicament. She'd probably kept him in her line of sight wherever he went in the store. When I mischievously exposed him to view, she got an eyeful. For an instant Paul covered his arousal with a hand, but perhaps figured that it would just draw more attention to it. So he presented himself freely to view. While Paul's erection was quite evident, she came right up next to him as we hovered above the knife case. Poor boy.
She wore an open-neck t-shirt and pedal pusher jeans, although it exposed the aged skin of her upper chest; her neck and hands betrayed her age as well. Her upper teeth and jaw were too prominent to call her pretty--even her nose was knobby and unattractive--but her steel-gray hair was cut short in a current style, swooped to one side--all straight edges and a bare neck. When I pointed out a particular piece to her, she delighted at my invitation to join us, and edged even closer to Paul.
She asked him, "Do you like that piece, young man?"
"Oh, this is Paul," I said to her. "And you are?" Why I introduced them so readily, I'm not sure, but of such questionable decisions is life made.
"Oh, I'm Nora," she said, and shook Paul's hand.
He murmured, "How do you do?" She got very much in Paul's space and started to talk to him, making him focus on her. Very soon she took hold of Paul's bicep and held his arm close against her. I backed away a step to watch and enjoy Paul's dealing with women he was unacquainted with; it's hard to say what I was thinking at that moment, but I enjoyed the hell out of the fact that Paul was mine, and that others would find him captivating too. As I watched Paul's behavior, it shouldn't have surprised me that he was gracious, smiling, and attentive. No sooner had I stepped back, though, when another woman, this one middle-aged and plump, put herself next to Paul on his other side. She didn't say anything at first; when Paul glanced at her she must have smiled because his face softened, his eyes smiling into hers. He was so alluring, and the blowzy-haired plump thing just kept looking up at him. She didn't touch him that I could see, but she wasn't about to leave his side.
Soon two or three more women drifted subtly into Paul's orbit, and, being part of a crowd, felt free to be near him and to talk to him. Nora apparently felt some privilege, having actually seen the threadbare gym shorts stretched by his erection, she took it upon herself to direct the small group's location and conversation. I watched Paul become the focus of this growing phalanx, and my instinct suddenly told me that all the attention would be a good thing for him. In the months and years to come he would obviously be faced with interested women of all ages, and probably not a few men, and the sooner he got used to it and learned how to handle himself, the better off he'd be.
Just then my cell phone rang. It was my sister Grace, calling from Cincinnati. I answered it, as I knew I'd better, and asked her to hold on for a second. I told Paul, "I need to take this, hon. Why don't you meet me at Fraley's--the ice cream place just down the block there--in fifteen minutes? They've got some tables out back in the shade, okay?" I wanted to get out of the little shop so I didn't fill it with my conversation, and since I wouldn't have been able to keep Paul company at the same time, out I went.
