"I want you deep in my body," she continued, "I want to be filled with you."I want you deep in my body," she continued, "I want to be filled with you." As she whispered, almost breathed this last, she moved up over me, straddling me like a horseback rider. Guiding my weapon with her hand, she rubbed it gently against the moist entrance to her tunnel of love. Then she slowly impaled herself, taking first just the head of my weapon, withdrawing slightly, then driving in an inch, withdrawing again, and so on in an inexorable slow plunge until my proud sword had disappeared. Meanwhile, my hands, almost of their own volition, slid up her body, measuring her thin waist, counting her ribs, then up to embrace her twin cones of delight, and rolled the berries crowning them between thumb and forefinger. She slowly arched her back, pressing her breasts against my hands and deepening my intrusion into her body. So we stayed for a long minute, coupled, not moving, letting our bodies savor each other. Then my sword, sheathed in the warmth of her scabbard, pulsed involuntarily. "Mmm," she murmured. "That was nice! Do it again?" I contracted my muscles so that my weapon jumped again within her, and her body answered, squeezing my lance within her. "Uuhh. Can YOU do that again?" She did. |