Another Time, Another Place
Page 5
“Don’t move,” April spoke seductively.
She lowered her legs; the maneuver automatically rotated the pelvic area downward on an arch. Virgil managed to keep himself from being disturbed when he felt his manliness begin to escape from within her womanhood. April’s “right there” comment restored his confidence. April’s pelvic swing positioned his penis from just penetrating through the haven’s opening to where Virgil’s hardness rested diagonally across her clitoris. The mushroom part of his tool was a mere movement away from her part that needed to be stimulated. A sensual nod from April was her way of instructing him to proceed. All Virgil had to do was start a continuous friction movement on her clitoris. At first he tried the in-and-out, up-and-down thing. He received great pleasure in feeling his head travel back and forth between her silky wet lips, but the session wasn’t about him. It was about her and finally pleasing the one he loved with what he was born with.
He moved back to April’s original position. She smiled. This time he performed a friction creating a sawing move instead of pumping her. The sensation of her wet lips remained present, but he also sensed April getting into what he did. He watched her face deliberately, captured each expression in his mind like Tivo would a movie.
As April’s facial expression began to intensify, passionate moans accompanied them. Each time the rim of his head rubbed against and over her jewel, he felt a tremor in her legs. For April, the repetitive movement of his shaft sliding against the sensitized cherry, and then abruptly changing to the softer mushroom cloud, had her in the midst of a slow-climbing climax. She enjoyed what was best described as the “snap on, snap off” sensation. This sensual feeling occurred for a quick second when the rim of his head pulled against her clitoris, then released to the softer outer mushroom. When the direction was reversed, the outer mushroom gave her an increased sensation as her clitoris rode the edge of the umbrella and then fastened itself back in place to ultimately gain a different eroticism from sliding on the harder sawing shaft. Virgil’s mind recorded everything from the intensity of her eyes to the speechless way she sometimes held her mouth open.
He was pleasing her with his manhood. It made him proud, and it elevated his ego and made him feel like a real man. Somewhere between the passionate cries and moans, Virgil heard the words, “almost there.” Two simple words electrified him greatly. His lifelong dream was being answered. She was about to explode absent the aid of hard plastic, gelled toys and vibrating objects.
“Cum on my dick,” Virgil demanded.
He spoke the words as if he’d recited them a thousand times. They bordered on the chauvinistic line. April might have chuckled inside if she wasn’t too far gone under the eroticism spell. She had reached the plateau.
“I’m…,” April screamed.
Virgil heard the last word to the familiar phrase held and sung like a long note in a song. It stretched, increased in volume and pitch, and ultimately ended with a loud squeal. Virgil continued to move until his wife begged him to stop because her jewel had become overly sensitive. He kissed her all over each breast, up her neck and passionately in the mouth. It wasn’t their first kiss, yet it was. The kiss carried a new sentiment and deeper love for each other.
April breathed heavily. She lowered her legs, straightened them out and slid them together. This move forced Virgil’s tool outside of her entrance. April then felt Virgil’s manhood throb. She held her legs as straight as possible, caressed his tool with all of her steamy wetness and despite the state of her clitoris, April began to move her hips up and down.
“You feel damn good,” Virgil told her.
“No,” April countered. “Words can’t describe the orgasm I had. Now it’s your turn,” she expressed while she moved faster.
She felt his steel shaft throb harder like a heavy heartbeat. Virgil would have been satisfied simply because he’d crossed new boundaries, but her sloppy-wet-feeling pussy lips that moved frantically on his thunder had him wanting more. He didn’t have to move, he couldn’t move; everything April was doing made his toes curl. April moved so fast, she wasn’t sure if he was still within the containment of her haven, but it mattered little. Somewhere within her act to please, she found pleasure. In a matter of seconds, her sensitive jewel would climax again.
“The thunder,” Virgil panted. April understood this to be his telltale sign of the imminent explosion. “The thunder,” he moaned louder. “Feel my roar!” Virgil said as he released his juices between her lips.
All April was able to muster was “fuck” when she felt his hot climactic spray ooze between her lips. She exploded a second time, right after Virgil.
“Damn you!” April screamed.
She held him tightly with both arms. An uncontrolled heavy breath warmed Virgil’s ears.
“Did you…again?” Virgil asked.
“My scream didn’t tell you?” she responded.
“I love you so much,” Virgil spoke endearingly.
“And I you,” April replied as she caressed his face tenderly.
“You’ll never understand the depth of what you did for me. One day I hope to explain my emotions in a manner that’s clear to you.”
“Sweetheart, I’m your wife and I love you with all of my heart. That’s all of the explanation I need.”
Virgil kissed her on the forehead, laid his head next to hers and held her tenderly in a silent communicative embrace.
THIRTEEN
“My turn for what?”, Steven joked.
“Just enjoy,” Ariel said.
This time she took his manhood slower. She made sure her soft supple lips tenderly caressed the hardness all the way down the shaft. The good-cop, bad-cop, rough, smooth maneuver excited him. He had no idea what to expect next. Ariel’s two point zero seemed capable of anything. Steven freaked completely out when her head tilted back, thus opening a path down her throat. Ariel took the beast entirely in her mouth and rapidly vibrated her head from side to side just to prove it. He was beyond impressed; he was damn awed.
When Ariel pulled her head back a strand of saliva was attached from his head to her bottom lip. The further she moved from his tool, the more the natural juice stretched until it ultimately broke in half. The part attached to her lip retracted and fell between her breasts. Steven watched more saliva travel down her chin, fall like a lone teardrop and join the other wetness at her breasts. Ariel massaged the juices onto her breasts before she positioned his hardness between her twins. She held his manliness captive with soft stokes of her breasts that she moved up and down in alternating directions. She held them in place with her hands. On queue Steven started pumping himself in a slow rhythm between her soft skin as if he was stroking her womanhood.
“I never knew breast fucking could feel so good,” Steven said.
“I’m so uninhibited tonight. Liberation at its best,” Ariel responded. She was barely able to control her excitement.
Without another word, Ariel was back to work on his joystick with her mouth. The hand-mouth combination was in full effect. She sucked his tool up and down with her mouth, lifted her head and then stroked him rapidly with a twisted hand motion while swirling her tongue around the mushroom part of his manliness. The continuous tongue swirling around his head combined with a masterful hand stroke was too much for Steven to bear. He feared he’d explode any second and he believed Ariel could sense it, too. He moaned heavily and loudly. The pleasured cries carried a state of excitement that was sweet music to her ears.
“Uh-huh,” Ariel said after each of his moans.
Steven wasn’t sure what her verbiage meant. He was near-orgasm drunk, too tipsy to comprehend anything but his ultimate release. He was certain since he throbbed like a swollen big toe that she would mount and ride him to the joyous state. He was wrong. His eyes opened wide, seemingly protruding out of their sockets as the massive explosion ejaculated like hot lava from a volcano into her mouth. Still, her hand pumped the shooting cannon until the last round was fired. Ariel swallow
ed the nectar with ease. Steven breathed heavily. He was entranced and literally amazed he’d been taken all of the way for the first time.
Ariel crawled up his body like a sexy lion about to devour its prey. Their lips met, Steven parted his, and Ariel pressed back firmly against his soft lips and sealed their lips. Her mouth opened slightly. She then transferred a portion of her treat into his mouth. The slimy substance felt foreign in his mouth, appalled his taste buds and made him realize exactly what had happened. Steven pushed her upward by both shoulders; Ariel wore a warm frisky smile. The opened hand smack on the side of her face was delivered with so much force that it knocked her off of him. She bounced off the edge of the bed and fell onto the floor.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Steven yelled angrily.
Ariel stood, looked at him with cold eyes, but her hateful expression was nothing compared to the verbal onslaught Steven gave her. Instantly, the sting of his strike announced itself like a jackhammer on a tiny nail. Instinctively, a hand moved to the warm pained area. All of a sudden Steven’s abuse didn’t feel new. The entire yelling and hitting thing had been jolted to the forefront of her mind.
“You’re an asshole!” Ariel screamed back.
“At least I’m not the one spitting cum into another person’s mouth,” Steven raged.
“We were being adventurous and liberated, remember?”
“You should ask me before you do some nasty shit like that.”
“So what you’re saying is, I can taste and swallow your nasty shit, but you can’t. What, you’re afraid of becoming gay?”
Steven jumped from the bed. His hand was back ready to wreak havoc again, but, Ariel took a step toward his aggression; seemingly daring him to strike her. She stood her ground, her eyes were concentrating on his as fear ran rampart throughout her body.
You’d better back down before you get smacked down, Steven thought.
But, Ariel’s stance made him second-guess himself so he simply pushed her backward between the breasts. Ariel sensed an anger she’d never experienced. Her piercing eyes were like two laser beams that burned perfectly round holes through his body. She stormed off and ended up at her computer with tears rolling from her eyes like mercury from a broken thermometer.
“Crazy bitch!” Steven yelled as she ran away.
Ariel sat with her feet in the computer chair holding her face in her palms. She cried for countless minutes and realized that something had to be done.
I will no longer be a punching bag, she thought and then realized the notion wasn’t new.
Even though anger flowed through, she was able to regain her composure a short while later. A new reality seemed to hit her. Ariel gazed at all of the whitepapers before her, and then picked up the email from her supervisor. Initially, her reaction was one of concern.
I work? she questioned herself oddly.
The question puzzled her. A rush of knowledge bombarded her as if to answer her own inquiry. It changed the complexity of the question and made it a statement.
“I work,” she spoke aloud.
The thought had remnants of something she’d always desired to do. Oddly, she was completely satisfied with the notion, yet it felt as new as a sunrise on a different day. The notion gave her a wholeness, as if the last piece of a puzzle had just been connected. Ariel read the white papers with a renewed determination and discovered that each white paper detailed software capable of capturing data from a device or database. Her task, as she understood it, was how to best collect, sort and display different sources of data in one webpage where it could be clearly understood. She leaned back in the chair, hands clasped behind her head and thought about the predicament.
What I need is a manager of managers, Ariel thought.
Another detailed search over the internet began.
FOURTEEN
Monday morning after April picked up Virgil’s breakfast plates, she looked around her home and was pleased with her life. Happy that for once she was fulfilled both emotionally and sexually. As she put the plates in the dishwasher, Virgil’s words of not being able to do aerobics came to mind. Her head turned toward the basement steps, she stared at the door’s opening as if it led to someplace evil and headed toward the basement almost afraid to enter it. When she descended the stairs and entered the room, a wave of emotions swarmed her. The right half of the basement contained various pieces of exercise equipment, and on the other end, a jump rope, dumbbells and two huge exercise balls.
“I’ve had sex in this room,” she spoke aloud.
The odd thing was she knew it wasn’t with her husband. She walked over to the giant exercise ball, sat, balanced herself and then rocked back and forth. The simple motion triggered a memory that made her stand and step backward away from the ball. She stared at the huge light-blue circular object and a reflection of her personal trainer’s muscular frame flashed across her eyelids. April’s lover was five feet ten inches, with a huge chest and a small waist with large developed legs. Once, sometimes twice a week, the aerobic session would be replaced by a sexual escapade, and the last time April recalled it happening on the ball. The memory swarmed her like a hive of bees on a honey stealer. She pictured her naked frame sitting on the ball, legs spread apart. She saw herself rocking back and forth with the trainer’s mouth positioned so that his tongue would swipe her jewel on a downward motion. She recalled not being tall enough to bend backward to have her hands and feet touch the floor simultaneously. But, a vivid memory of her balancing her butt on the exercise ball as it was wedged in a corner consumed her. She visualized her legs again spread wide with him deep inside of her warmed her.
April tried to shake the reminiscing session. She kicked the exercise ball away, but what she accomplished was a reminder of the first time she attempted to roll backward on the ball until her shoulder blades rested on the floor. At that time, the exercise ball shot from between her legs, bounced once and hit the trainer in the groin. She remembered once having succeeded. Strawberry jam popped into her mind. Visions of his two fingers spreading the treat onto her lower lips supported the odd thought. She sensed how the chill of the jam had given her goose bumps. She remembered how his warm mouth’s delicate pull on her lips had made her juices flow. She recalled the long amount of time he had spent licking and sucking on every part of her moistened box. He brought on orgasm after orgasm with his well-trained tongue.
April’s recollection of the incident felt almost real. She’d swear her clitoris was throbbing by simply visualizing their sexual moments. She remembered him balancing on the ball and how she carefully sat on his hardened manhood. She faced him with her hands locked behind his neck. She saw herself with her head back screaming with pleasure from the up-and-down bounce on the exercise ball. The bouncing started as a gentle motion in order to perfect the rhythm, but it ended with him literally dropping their weight on the ball to have the spring-back effect plunge his manliness deeper inside her pleasure box. April nearly cried tears of joy the first time he moved her legs from around his waist, placed her ankles respectively on each shoulder and stood. The recollection made her remember she liked occasional roughness because as he stood, he held her hips and pounded his rod hard into her excited moisture. The sound of their bodies violently colliding became a huge turn-on. She remembered always having multiple orgasms while suspended into the air.
April unknowingly started rubbing herself by simply rehashing the sexual encounters she’d had with her trainer. Her fingers touched the wetness of a lake.
Damn, she thought in the midst of the vision.
When a finger began circling her clitoris, her mind jumped back in to the memory like it never left. The one thing she remembered most was that the trainer always went for overkill. As if eating and pounding her hotbox wasn’t enough, many times he would end with her positioned ass up on the ball. The exercise ball provided perfect feedback because it allowed him to grind all of his manhood deep inside her hotbox. She recalled his penis throbbing and ho
w it illuminated her to wits’ end.
“I thought…,” April said aloud. She panted because of her masturbation act. “I’d be able to end our sexcapades, but the things you did to me let me know I was alive.”
Visions of their last time together was as vivid as the moans she made now. She recalled saliva being dropped between her buttocks. The warm natural juices seemed to sizzle between the two mounds of her fiery hot body. He rubbed the wetness around and into her rear door, pulled his moistened hardness from her haven and carefully entered the black hole. The exercise room still carried the echo of her intense passionate cries. She remembered how delicate and slow the trainer’s in-and-out motions were. They consisted of a rhythmic push forward, a pull backward to relieve pressure and then another push forward that was a fraction of an inch further than the last push. She bellowed louder the deeper his tool got into her. She recalled holding her mouth open when she felt his genitals rest against her butt as if the slippery snake had slithered its way out of her mouth.
The long, slow stroke deep into her black hole made her knees tremble. They shook today because of the vivid memory and the two fingers that worked a rapid motion around her private jewel. The best, most intensive climax April recalled was when his hardness reached her clitoris from the rear, through the backdoor. Visions of them making the exercise ball move in small circles as he ground himself as deep as possible to touch the magic pea. A lone hand reached backward, pushed against his hips in an attempt to relieve pressure from her hardening jewel. But the pain of the pleasure principle was too great to ignore and was too pleasing to be denied.
She remembered lowering her hand and taking a series of deep breaths to relax. April’s legs trembled so badly when she came, it was as if she had no control over them at all. The trembling legs helped her body release an orgasm so grand, the creamy substance ran down the ball. But when she felt his manhood throb, expand, and become steel-like before it sprayed hot juices into her rear, she brought God into the equation. She disregarded the rear door and moved against his manliness as if he was entrenched inside her womanhood. She bounced her hips against his exploding tool until he collapsed. She pictured them slowly tumbling sideways to the floor gasping for air when all of his weight fell onto her. The self-induced orgasm she gave herself while she relived a past memory took her to her knees. She supported herself with one hand and made her body jerk recklessly as she continued to tantalize her overly sensitized clitoris. April lay on the floor with her body curled and waited for the sensation to dissipate.