Suddenly, the mood was back.
"Show them to me," he almost whispered.
"You have to work for it," she said softly. "I'm going to push you off of me in thirty seconds, so you'd better hurry."
He captured her wrists again. The cloth was pulled so tightly across the bottom of her breasts that he couldn't get a bite, and he was reduced to pressing his face between her breasts to get the shirt in his teeth.
"Gently," she warned. "I like this shirt."
He pulled up and felt the tension on the cloth suddenly change. He let go with his teeth and ... there they were.
She was very pink. Her areolas were a darker pink and smooth, about two inches in diameter. Proudly straining outward from the middle of each one was a nipple the same color as the surrounding flesh. The nipples were hard ... obviously hard ... and were thicker than he'd expected, being about the diameter of her pinky fingertip. They stood up at least half an inch. The luscious looking nipples and their backgrounds perched on breasts that might require a bra in the thirty-four range ... if she ever wore one. He felt drool about to escape his mouth and sucked it back in and swallowed.
He didn't ask. He was afraid to, really. But he let her wrists go as he leaned down to suck one of those delicious nipples between his lips. Her "mmmmmmm" told him everything he needed to know. He kept going as he felt her fingers slide over his close-cropped hair.
Sometime later, during which he tried to remember doing this to some other woman and couldn't, something told him to stop and look up at her. He'd been alternating back and forth, completely happy to be making love to her nipples, and it had been a long time. He didn't want to make her sore.
"Too much?" he asked.
"You're very gentle for a caveman," she said, smiling. "More."
Twenty minutes later he pulled back. She lay there, a dreamy smile on her face, and he felt the thrill of knowing he'd made her happy.
Now was another crunch point, however. Their lovemaking had been unhurried, almost sedate, as he licked and sucked her nipples gently. It had been foreplay, but without the urgency of the usual kind of foreplay. He was stiff as a board in his pants, but wasn't sure he should let her know that. He wasn't sure about anything, except that he loved making her happy.
He looked at her belly button again. It was about three inches above the waistband of her jeans. The creamy, pink skin between it and those dark blue jeans looked smooth and soft. He didn't see any stretch marks, though he wouldn't have cared if they were there. He leaned down to kiss her belly where he'd been looking.
"Mmmmmm," came that somehow throaty sound from her lips. Her hips arched up off the floor.
Now he felt urgency. But he controlled it. Slow was a good thing right now. He sat back on his calves, which were thick enough that he didn't put too much pressure on her shins. Very slowly, he reached for the button that fastened her jeans. He looked up to find her greenish blue eyes staring back at him. Her lips were parted and he noticed her breasts rise and fall as she breathed deeply.
As if in slow motion his fingertips gripped the cloth and stretched it, while his other fingers tipped the button through the open hole. The button snapped through, quickly, and the tab to her zipper was suddenly exposed. The first three or four teeth of the zipper were already apart. He looked back up at her face. Nothing had changed. She was just lying there, watching his face.
He knew, somehow, not to say anything. Words would only break the mood. Again, as if in slow motion, his right thumb and forefinger reached for the tab of her zipper and gripped it. He tugged gently and four more teeth came apart.
It took him fully thirty seconds to pull the zipper down and the whole time, her smoldering eyes stared into his. He finally looked down. Her panties were black and right in the middle of them was a red and white heart. The edges of the zipper had pulled apart and were sticking up, as if they were the mouth of the jeans, begging to be pulled down.
The tension was killing him, but he forced himself to keep moving slowly. He gripped the waistband and tugged gently. It was obvious he couldn't do this without her assistance, and he almost gasped as he saw her belly muscles ripple and her hips came up off the floor. He tugged at the jeans like they were a too tight pair of gloves, pulling first here and then there, until they slid over the crown of her hips and suddenly were free. He scooted back and pulled impatiently until the jeans got caught on the baby leopard slippers.
She giggled as he let out a small frustrated sigh and removed the slippers. On impulse, he sucked the big toe of her left foot into his mouth, like it was a huge nipple.
She squealed and jerked, sitting up. But all she did was pull the shirt over her head and lie back down. When he got her jeans off, she was lying there in only the black panties. He could see now that there were three hearts on the front. They were bikini style, with thin straps that had lain under the hip-hugging waistband of her jeans before he'd taken them off. He licked his lips, staring at the expanse of skin exposed on her flanks.
When he looked back up at her face, it was just as before. She was just watching him, her eyes glittering now. He crawled forward again, feeling faintly foolish on his hands and knees, until he could sit back again, freeing his hands. They reached for those thin straps and tugged gently at them.
She did not raise her butt off the floor this time.
Somehow he knew he was expected to be more forceful. Sliding his right hand under her, he grappled for the back of the panties and pulled them down, while her whole weight lay on his hand. He pinched, and she made a sound in her throat and finally lifted. He looked at the front panel of the panties, which had slipped down to where hair should have been exposed ... if there had been any hair there.
He felt his heart hammering in his chest as he reached one last time. Mustering control over his excited body, he tugged, as before, slowly uncovering the prize, until the tip of the split between her labia came into view. He stopped there and brushed one thumb across the top of the groove.
She tensed all over.
He pulled the panties down a little further, exposing more of her cleft. Her lips were full, but tightly closed, with her legs together.
She wiggled her legs under his butt ... just a little. He rose and her knees rose with him. He had the panties off of her in seconds, half squatting on one knee. He stood up, just staring.
She pulled her knees up and then, as slowly as he'd removed her clothing, let them drift apart ... wider and wider ... so slowly that it seemed he was in a dream, until her knees fell the last three inches to hit the floor with a soft sound, leaving her fully exposed. Her labia weren't closed anymore, but had pulled apart only a little, exposing a dark promise of sweet offering inside. Her hands came up from where they'd lain the entire time and she cupped her breasts, pinching and rolling her nipples.
The sound that came from her throat affected him like an electric shock. He lost two buttons on his shirt, getting it off. As slowly as he had stripped her, now he couldn't move fast enough. He almost fell over as he hopped first on one foot, then on the other, trying to get his pants off. He stood, in socks and shorts, panting slightly, his shoulders hunched. He didn't know it, but to Lulu he looked remarkably like a cave man, his hulking body standing over her.
She sat up suddenly and he almost moaned at the loss of the sight of the prize. She said nothing, but rose gracefully into a posture that put both her knees to one side of her, allowing her to lean close to his shorts. Her fingers came up to the waistband. When he felt her fingertips touch his skin his stomach sucked in of its own accord, while his lungs inflated to maximum capacity.
She copied him, pulling down so slowly he thought he'd scream. His penis was already lying against his abdomen, having sought that position as it hardened. He looked down as she uncovered the tip. He was so hard that his foreskin had already pulled back, exposing a circle of darker, smoother flesh about an inch in diameter. As she dragged the shorts along the shaft, the foreskin slipped lower. His manhood began to lean toward her as the shorts got lower, like a flower facing the sun. It was only two inches from her lips when she pulled his shorts off his balls and reached around to pull the back down. She shoved the cloth down then and, without warning, grasped him in her right hand.
"Jessica said you had a nice one," she whispered. It was the only thing either of them had said for fifteen minutes.
Then she took him in her mouth.
Chapter Twenty
As slowly as things had progressed to that point, once she touched him in an overtly sexual way, things just kind of went wild. Kris didn't know what to do first. He wanted to stand there like this forever, letting her do what she was doing. His mind reminded him that he could be returning the favor, which was something he was very motivated to do.
He communicated what he wanted through his touch, and she pulled him down to the rug, and onto his back. She threw a leg over him, and seconds later they were both submerged in ecstasy.
Cold air suddenly enveloped his manhood, and she rolled as if blown over by the winds of passion, landing in the classic position of invitation, open and reaching for him.
He didn't need any encouragement, and rolled on top of her. What had been haste slowed dramatically, though, as he began proceeding at a more slow and measured pace.
Both groaned in satisfaction as they became one.
"Ohhhh yes," she whispered.
It felt so good to be in her that he simply left himself there, buried, and ground against her, trying to push even deeper. Her hands helped him, her nails digging deep into the flesh of his buttocks.
It was slow like that for maybe a minute and then, like magic, both were frantic. He knew within another minute that he couldn't keep this up. He was burning energy at a prodigious rate, all thought of gentleness gone. She dragged in a deep breath, the air rasping in her throat, and her hips quivered somehow as her throat began letting that air out in a whine that got higher and higher. He knew suddenly that she was there. With a groan of relief, he let his own climax wash over him, trying to keep moving for her sake.
Her whine evolved into a high pitched groan that sounded like he was killing her, but he knew it was a good sound. As she reached the pinnacle of her groan and it transformed into gasping grunts that went in time with her hips, his own release jolted through his body. He didn't have to do a thing. She was doing all the work now, even though she was pinned beneath him.
He couldn't remember having an orgasm in a woman either, but in the seconds it took for his body to explain what that was like, he knew it had never been like this with another woman. This couldn't possibly be forgotten, no matter what the trauma. This was a thing he felt deep in his soul. He understood perfectly the concept of the flesh of two, becoming one.
He realized he was crying, gasping and sobbing at the same time with the joy he was feeling. Her hands left his buttocks and came to capture his face, pulling. As the final spurts of his essence left his body to enter hers and her hips jerked less frequently, their kiss was a sloppy, panting thing, more of a rubbing of lips over each other's faces as they gasped for air. It was almost more intimate than what they'd just done, as if they were trying to give each other part of their lips, exchanging skin as they merged into one being.
Kris woke as the sun streamed through the window. He stretched, and while enjoying that, the memory of the previous night flooded his mind. He sat up, as if there were overstressed springs in his abdomen.
He was naked ... and he was alone. He got up and found that his clothes had been picked up and draped over the back of a chair.
Getting dressed, he ventured out to find Lou Anne. He didn't know what it meant that he'd awakened alone.
He found her in the kitchen, sitting and listening as Ambrose read to her from a storybook and tried to eat breakfast at the same time. She looked up at him as he stuck his head hesitantly in the doorway, blew him a quick kiss and then turned back to her son. He felt a wave of relief and was astonished at how important that quick little kiss had been to him.
Ambrose looked up too. "Hi Kris!" he said brightly. "You must have been really tired. You fell asleep at our house."
"He was
very
tired," said Lou Anne. "I had to put him to bed just like I have to put you to bed sometimes."
Ambrose looked amazed. "You
carried
him?"
Lou Anne laughed and that sound was delightful to his ears. He couldn't remember the last time a woman's laugh had made him feel so complete.
"No, silly," she said. "But I had to make him go to sleep. He didn't want to, just like
you
don't want to go to sleep sometimes."
"Did you read him a story?" asked the little boy.
