|Blogs > 12pups > The Beauty of the Human Body|
Okay. So distraction time is back. She invited me up for a bite yesterday, and she made it clear where she wanted this bite, or rather, bites. My day timed out perfectly, so it worked. I tossed a plaid flannel blanket, a couple bath towels, plenty of water, some "Chubs" baby wipes... hell, I'm an old boy scout: I go prepared.
I love the outdoors, so her suggestion of a secluded spot in trees just off a road on the outskirts of town, not far from her office -- that was totally cool with me.
For nearly an hour, this incredible woman came time after time, to my eager lips and tongue, my hands, our hands.... At one point I thought she had passed out and I was hopeful but concerned. I have heard of an orgasm so good that a woman would black out. I bit my lip, thinking maybe, just maybe, I had given her something that good. But shortly, her brow crunched and she vocalized quite a bit, moans and gasps and facial concentration, consumed by waves of pleasure I had the great joy of giving her, all reassuring me that she had simply "gone to another place" for a bit.
Oh well. Came close.
We were so on the same channel the whole time. It was impossible for me to do something wrong. Each thing I did, I intuitively knew to do. I could feel her orgasms, and was part of them, and *that* was a great pleasure for me. She lay on my truck seat, one foot finding place on steering wheel, then dash, then my shoulder, then dash.
I stood at the door, making room for me to bend down to her wonderful garden of pleasure as often and as long as she wanted. The wind was roaring in the leaves of the cottonwood trees we were parked under for privacy. During oral she grabbed my hair and pulled me harder into her. It was wonderful to be so aggressively enjoyed like that.
During manual, I asked her to join in, *show* me what to do. Her fingers, my fingers, one of my hands working inside, the other free to coax and caress and fondle the cord of clitoris that just would rather stay under the hood. And I could feel, could sense everything, felt totally a part of everything she was feeling. And eventually, this giant paddle hand of mine, it was in as far as it could go, Turning slowly this way and that, dialing her orgasms in. Right hand's fingers caressing or tugging at minora, or working her clitoris, or caressing her own fingers as she rubbed her own clitoris.
To be so close to her sexuality, so "permitted" and "allowed." What a great gift to me! She is beautiful, but more... so well endowed with orange-red pubic hair, and large, shapely, beautiful minora. (Actually, they need another word, because hers really can't be called "minora" -- they are wings, capes, robes... not *miner* nothing).
She is so sexual, so amazing, and I was *learning* her, the uniqueness of her responsiveness to sex. I tried, but I could not wear her out. She came quickly, often, and long, one after another. I have never been with a woman like this. Others become too sensitive after orgasm and wrench away or push me away. But had she *another* hour for lunch, I would have worn out first.
Short on time, I had never undressed, never exposed, never sought attention of my own. This was all for her, and I was perfectly okay with that. It was wonderful. I would do it every day for her, if schedules allowed.
I shielded view of her from the road behind us with my own body in the door. Several cars passed but thought nothing of the truck in the trees.
I can't say I can think of a sexual experience I have ever had that tops that. Only one thing amiss. I love to kiss. I would kiss for hours, given the chance. And she is such an awesome kisser. But once I kiss her there, she will not kiss my mouth again.
(Mental note: Kiss till sated before going down on her.)