The Addicted Natural Ch 04

Chapter 4 – The Second Gift

I stood and helped her stand up while she was doing her post-hypnotic stretching exercises. "How do you feel?" I asked.

"Great!" She stiffened slightly as I put my arms around her, then relaxed and put hers around my waist. She nestled her head into my chest, and we just held each other for a long minute.

"What are you going to do to me?" she asked in a small voice.

"Anything I want." I never could resist a straight line. Her head snapped up and she looked questioningly into my eyes. I gave her my most innocent smile.

"Don't tease me!" she implored, looking down again, frustrated.

"Well," I said thoughtfully, "I suppose the proper thing for me to do would be to kiss you, and just see how things progress."

She looked back up again then, and seeing that I meant it, waited as I slowly lowered my lips to hers. It started out as a nice kiss; tentative, then a little stronger, slowly increasing in passion. When I parted my lips, she followed suit, and soon I was exploring her mouth with my tongue. That's when things got a little awkward. Her knees buckled, and I had to make a frantic grab for her, catching her under her arms, and hoisting her back up again. She was gasping for breath. When she looked back up at me, her eyes had lost focus, and they seemed to roll a little before finally settling back on my own.

"Golly!" she breathed.

Once again, I believe I did an admiral job of not laughing; not even a giggle. The last time I'd heard that particular exclamation was when I had been channel-surfing and happened to pause on an old rerun of "Leave It to Beaver."

"If I might suggest;" I said quietly, "you could put your arms around my neck."

She did as I said, which had the effect I had hoped for. The shirttail of her blouse pulled loose from her skirt, baring her midriff. As I again lowered my face toward hers, she surprised me by taking the palm of one hand, putting it behind my head, and pulling me to her waiting lips. I slid my hands around the bare skin of her waist, then up her back underneath her blouse. She breathed a long noise into my mouth and shuddered violently. I let my hands wander around her upper and lower back and sides while my tongue explored her mouth. I broke the kiss, and began unbuttoning her blouse. She was breathing hard, making her ample chest a moving target beneath the buttons, and I fumbled a bit.

"Fred, I'm afraid I'm not too good at this," she said softly between gulps of air. "I've wanted this for so long, and I want to make it special for you, but I don't know what to do."

"Will you trust me?" I asked, and she nodded, blushing, as I finally finished with the damn buttons and slid the silken garment off of her body. Her breasts were perfect; high and rounded. I let my gaze settle there, while she reached upward to cross her arms to cover herself, thought better of it, and let them fall to her sides again as her whole body flushed. She looked down at the floor as she displayed herself to me. I took great pains to fold the blouse carefully and drape it over a chair back, then took her into my arms again and gently turned her toward the unlit fireplace. There's a large mirror over the mantle, and it reflected our images back toward us. She looked up, shivered, and cast her eyes back downward as I turned to the task of the skirt, which, thank goodness, was much easier than the blouse had been.

I'd forgotten that she wasn't wearing panties. Menlo, of course, had those as a trophy, but oddly, I wasn't at all jealous knowing that the bastard had taken her sexually only a few hours before. SHE had obviously forgotten HIM, and that was all that mattered to me. I moved behind her and wrapped my arms around her, caressing her naked stomach and breasts.

She said: "Aren't you going to take off your ... Oh golly!" as I lightly pinched her left nipple and started rolling it between my finger and thumb, my right hand snaking across her abdomen and pubic area. She lifted her arms slightly, but obviously didn't know what to do with them, and let them flop back over mine like the wings of a stricken bird. I was very erect, and as I pulled her back into me, I was sure she could feel my hardness against her buttocks and lower back. She glanced nervously up at the mirror for a moment, then forced her eyes back down toward the floor as she tried to cope with the feelings rippling through her body.

"Spread your legs," I ordered softly, and she complied immediately. "Further!" I said, and she quickly placed her feet about 18 inches apart. My right hand slid between the creamy inner thighs, and I obviously scraped my palm against her clit, for she shivered violently and let out of long, low moan. Her pubic hair was short and rather sparse. My palm covered her whole area, and slowly, as I worked my middle finger into her slit, she began to move her hips rhythmically forward and back, grinding into my crotch for a moment or two on each backstroke. I let go of her breast with my left hand long enough to sweep her long black hair over her left shoulder, then I began kissing and nibbling her exposed neck while I resumed pinching and pulling her nipples. I had worked my finger all the way inside her by now, and I began flicking her clit with my thumb. She was amazingly wet, and my hand was rapidly coated with her juices.

Unable to tolerate doing nothing with her arms any longer, she raised her hands and grasped my wrists. She turned her head to the right, obviously wanting to be kissed, and I complied with her silent request, kissing her deeply, passionately. When I broke it, her lips tried to stay with mine, but I wouldn't let her have her way.

"Look at the girl in the mirror," I ordered.

She glanced up immediately, blushed furiously, lowered her gaze, then purposefully obeyed me and a brought her eyes up once again.

"I'm shy," she whimpered, then groaned loudly as I flicked her clit with my thumb again. Her hips bucked, tried to find a rhythm, then bucked again. I started working a second finger inside her. "Oh golly oh golly oh golly oh golly," she moaned loudly. She was tight, and I felt her stretching. Each time I flicked the clitoris, she would buck against my hand and the muscles of her cunt would contract around my fingers.

"Watch the girl in mirror," I said firmly, breathing directly into her exposed ear. She stiffened, shut her eyes momentarily while a shudder rippled through her, and she let out an "AAAAhh!" sort of moan. Her body seemed to be moving in several directions now, wriggling from side to side, as well as back against my crotch and forward against the invading fingers. I was looking at her in the mirror to make sure she was keeping her eyes open, but her gaze was on her body, not on me. She made quite a sight, moving in my arms like that.

"What's the girl in the mirror doing now?" I asked, again breathing the words directly into her ear while rubbing her clit as hard and as rapidly as I could.

"SHE'S COMING!" she shrieked, and suddenly several things happened. Her knees buckled again, and I lost my grip on her breast and I found myself literally supporting her entire weight by the two fingers buried inside her. Her body jerked frantically, grinding into my hand. She started an insistent "Aaahh, aaahh, aaahh, aaahh" sound that coincided perfectly with a spasmodic gripping of my fingers by the muscles of her cunt. I finally caught her below her breasts with my left arm, and after this went on for a full half minute, I slowly pulled my fingers out of her. My whole hand was soaked. She seemed to deflate, and I turned her around and held her tightly as her body was wracked by strong, intermittent shudders. At last her body became still, and her arms lifted and encircled me weakly.

"Are you okay?" I asked, genuinely concerned.

"I .... Freddy, that was .... I've never, ever, ever felt like that before. It was so ... so ...." She stiffened suddenly and drew back from me slightly. "So selfish."

"Huh?"

"I should have been pleasing YOU," she said, with a sort of frantic earnestness. She began fumbling with my belt.

"Hey! Hey, there! Slow down! We have all the time in the world." I held her by the shoulders, but she continued to work with the belt. She couldn't seem to get her fingers to work properly.

"No, you don't understand. I need to please YOU. I need ... I need ...." She took another ragged breath and her hands became still. A tear slid down her cheek. "Please, Freddy. Please? You don't understand. I really, really need to do this. I have to .... I NEED to please you! Please? I can't get this stupid belt undone!"

"If I may be so bold to suggest," I said quietly, trying to calm her, "perhaps you could start with my shirt."

She looked up, then grabbed for the buttons of my long sleeved shirt. She was much more adept at those than the buckle, and soon had the shirt neatly folded and lying next to her blouse and skirt over the arms of the chair, which had suddenly decided to double for a clothes horse. Then she was back to the problem of the belt.

"Shoes and socks next," I ordered softly. "Never leave your man wearing only his shoes, he'll feel foolish." She glanced down, then self-consciously toed off her own sandals, which were all she was wearing, and kicked them aside, out of the way. Before I could move to the couch, she had fallen on her knees in front of me, and busied herself with my shoe laces. The mantle mirror was tilted slightly, to allow people standing before it to see themselves, so I had a splendid view of her back side as she knelt submissively in front of me, bent over her task with the laces. I helped from time to time by placing my hand on her back to steady myself as I lifted a foot to aid in the removal of first the shoes, then the socks.

At last, there was nothing left but the offending belt and trousers, but instead of standing again, she raised herself on her knees until her face was inches from the buckle. In surprisingly short order, the thing was undone and the pants were off. Instead of getting up to further burden the chair, she folded them and laid them aside on the floor next her, then reached for the waist band of my boxers. The tent that they made in front left little to the imagination. I noticed that her hands were shaking badly again. Very slowly, as if unwrapping a suspicious package, she peeled them down.

Her breath caught, and she gawked at me. She'd gotten the shorts only as far as my knees, but she seemed to have entirely forgotten about them. "Oh my God!" she whispered. She just knelt there, staring.

"My shorts, please," I said quietly, gently. "I'm about to fall on my ass, here."

"Huh?" She glanced up to meet my eyes, then immediately back down at my prick. Her mouth was open slightly, and her eyes fastened onto my erect member and stayed there for another several long seconds. Then my words finally seemed to take hold, and she jumped a little. "Oh, sorry." She slid the shorts the rest of the way down my legs and off, as I lifted my feet, one at a time, to help her; but her eyes never left her main item of interest.

"Freddy," she said, quietly, reverently, "I didn't know you were so ... so .... I don't think I could .... I mean, I think you're too .... Freddy, you're so BIG!"

She reached tentatively out with her right hand and grasped it around its center. She continued to stare, rapt, as she moved her hand gently up and down the length of it. Her hair had fallen across her face again, and I swept it to one side and over her left shoulder so I could see her face. I saw her nostrils flare. She licked her lips. Her other hand reached out and cupped my balls, and she shifted her attention to this new plaything for a moment as she squeezed gently and rolled them in her palm like oversized marbles. I moaned softly. With a suddenness that surprised me totally, she had me in her mouth. I moaned again, more loudly this time.

"Teeth," I whispered raggedly. "No teeth!"

She stopped and looked up at me, concerned, licking her lips. "Oh! Oh, I'm sorry. I should have known. I've never ... never ... you know." And with a slurp, she was back at it. She worked the shaft about half way into her eager mouth, pumping me, using her hand in a steady, rhythmic stroke, while she continued to play with my balls with her other hand. Her cheeks had hollowed as she sucked. Slowly at first, then more insistently, her body began to move, writhing like a serpent. She was starting to make noises around my shaft. I wasn't going to be able to take much more of this.

She was setting up a little routine: taking me as far into her mouth as she could, pumping me with her hand while I was buried in her, then backing herself up until just the head of my cock was still in her, pumping her hand a few more times, then swallowing even more of me before repeating the cycle. Her hips seemed to be clenching and unclenching as she did this. She was moaning more than I was.

"Stop!" I shouted suddenly, grasping her shoulders and pushing her back.

She didn't take her eyes off the object of her affection. "NO!" she screamed, and lunged back at me, mouth open like a fish after a lure. I held her firmly. She couldn't quite get to me, and she pulled my cock and balls toward her.

"Stop!" I said again, using, I thought, a great deal of authority in my voice.

She finally stopped struggling, and looked up at me, pleading. "Please, Freddy! Come in my mouth! Please? My roommate says that's what every guy wants: to come in a girl's mouth. You can come in mine. Please?" She started tugging on me again.

Rather than argue further, I dropped to my knees in front of her. She threw her arms around me and hugged me to her, shivering with excitement. "Please, Freddy."

"I want my first time with you to be inside you," I said quietly, holding her.

This took a second to sink in. She drew back slightly and looked between us at the cock that was leaning, wet and stiff, against her stomach. When she raised her eyes to mine again, I saw trepidation and a little fear. "I don't know, Freddy. It's so big. I'm not sure I can get it in."

"It's what I want," I told her. "Will you try for me?" She nodded with conviction, and I helped her up and led her into the bedroom.

I lay beside her on the bed, stroking her body with my fingertips. She looked up into my eyes. "I don't know what to do, Freddy. Tell me what you want me to do," she whispered urgently, but I smothered her with another kiss as my response. She had a different taste, and it took me a moment to realize that I was tasting myself on her lips and tongue. Immediately, her body began responding to my kisses and caresses, and she tried to push me back. "No, please, not me again. I need to please YOU!" but she shuddered violently as I brushed her clit, then uttered "Golly!" as if to say "Oh, fuck it!" and gave in to her feelings once more. She ground her hips up into my hand.

Finally, I could stand it no longer, and I spread her legs and positioned myself above her. She reached down and grasped my cock, guiding it to its target.

"Promise you won't stop, Freddy," she pleaded urgently. "I want you to hurt me."

This really confused me. "What?"

She looked up at me, a mixture of fear and determination in her eyes. "You don't understand how big you are! You're really going to hurt me, I know. Please promise me that you won't stop until you're all the way inside me. You can hurt me. I want you to. Please!"

"I promise," I said quietly, and began pushing into her. She was tight, but marvelously wet and slippery, and I had little trouble cramming myself into her trembling body. She arched her back, opened her eyes wide in shock, and started in again with her litany of "Oh golly, oh golly, oh golly, oh golly," until our pelvises ground together. She shivered and clung to me.

"Oh God, Freddy, You're sooo deeeeep!" she groaned.

I began lifting my hips, sliding out of her to begin my rhythm, but she arched up at me, trying to keep me in her as long as possible. To complicate things further, she wrapped her legs around me and held me to her, impaling herself. I lifted her body off the bed with mine, then slammed back down hard. She screamed out a guttural sound, then gave a little mewling noise as I managed to slip out of her a little before ramming back down into her. The noises became the age-old sounds of love, as I pushed brutally into her over and over. Then she gave the same little "Aaahh, aaahh, aaahh, aaahh" cries that I was now beginning to recognize as her "coming sound." Her cunt gripped my member hard, keeping time with her exclamations, and absolutely nothing could keep my floodwaters in check any longer. With a growl, I buried myself in her body as far as I could and felt myself spurt into her over and over and over.

Shaking and weak, I collapsed on top of her, resting and trying to catch my breath. I reached up and gently stroked her hair. "Are you okay?" I asked idly. It was only when she did not respond that I came to realize that she had passed out. I checked her pulse and breathing, both rapid, but normal under the circumstances; then rolling her over onto her side and resting her head on my chest, I put my arm around her, closed my eyes, and drifted off to sleep.

I awoke sometime later to a wet feeling on my chest. I was still holding her in the same position. I lay still and tried to figure out what was wrong. She made a little sniffing noise.

"You're crying," I said, making her jump a little. "What's wrong?"

She sniffed, but kept her head down, pressed against me. "Nothing."

"Why are you crying?"

"I'm not going to tell you."

Well, this was a new wrinkle. I thought a few minutes, listening to her little sniffing noises. "I want you to do something for me. Will you?"

She looked up me, tears glistening in her eyes. "What?"

I gently put my hand on her head and forced it back down to my chest, where she'd had it before. "Tell me what you hear," I ordered.

She paused a few moments. "Noth- ...." She listened some more. "Your heart. I hear your heart."

"Very good," I told her. "And now, with every beat of my heart, I want you to relax. Relax more and more with every beat you hear. More and more relaxed."

"You're hypnotizing me with your heart," she said quietly.

"Just listen, and do as I say," I told her. She listened for twenty of thirty seconds, her body slumping over me, feeling heavy. At last I told her to look up into my eyes. She sighed and complied at once.

"Now," I said sternly, "tell me why you're crying."

"I didn't know it would be like this," she said, the tears welling up again.

"Didn't know WHAT would be like this?"

"Love." She let the word hang for a moment. "There, see? I did it! I used the "L" word! I thought it would be all happy and like two lovers running toward each other in a field of daisies; but it's really all uncertain and I don't know if tomorrow you'll want me to stay or to go, and now I've used the "L" word, and I'll lose you for sure!" She collapsed back onto me and sobbed a few times.

Women! My respect for George Bernard Shaw was growing by leaps and bounds. "Let me guess," I said sardonically. "You're quoting your roommate again, aren't you?" She looked back up at me, eyes full of tears. "Did it ever occur to you that that roommate of yours is just an empty-headed bimbo?" I continued harshly. She blinked, trying to read between the lines of my little tirade.

"Okay, here's the plan," I continued matter-of-factly. "Tomorrow morning, we're going to wake up and make love again. Then, we're going to clean up, I'll make breakfast, and you are going to pack us a picnic lunch. We're going to go to the park and study for a few hours, eat, and then I'm going to hypnotize you again, because I really, really like doing that. It's a power trip, and it gives me a rush. Then we'll figure out something for dinner, and if you're still in love with me, you can stay and we'll make plans for the next day. Understand?" I waited, and she finally gave me a teary, sheepish grin and nodded.