Lisa & Ian free porn video

Later, she was unsure precisely just when she fell in love with him.
It had all been so gradual, almost like something sneaking up on her.
The cause had been serendipitous, if you could call a car breakdown that. Lisa had been driving home on a Friday, after a grueling week laboring in the accounting office where she worked. It had been a really hard week, she was amazingly tired, and just wanted to get home, have a bath, and then drift off to sleep.
She had nothing planned for the weekend or that evening. She didn't have a relationship at that stage, the last one having crashed and burned spectacularly a few weeks before. She hadn't thought about another one yet - the last one had -hurt- and, she had to admit, damaged her confidence a bit.
She had just crested the top of a hill when there was a bang and then a bump, and the rear of her car started juddering. Startled and worried, she pulled to the side and stopped. She immediately felt uncomfortable, it was dusk, and not such a great place for a woman alone to have a breakdown. Getting out, she checked her left rear tire and saw that it was flat. Completely flat.
She just stood there looking at it. Now what?
Other cars kept zooming past, other commuters heading home for the weekend. Realizing she was alone, she got back in, locking the doors and reaching for her phone.
Then someone stopped behind her on the hard shoulder.
Fear shot through her. She reached for her keys, ready to drive off even if it shredded the tire and destroyed the rim. In her mirrors, she saw a man get out, start walking toward her side of the car.
She inserted the key, prepared to turn it.
He was formally dressed, her first assessment was that he looked like more than a few of her colleagues in the accounting department. Tall, he had to stoop slightly at her window. Scared, and embarrassed, she rolled it down a few centimeters, tried to smile. Her heart was in her throat. How quickly a normal drive home can turn sour!
Her first impression was... what? Later she had some difficulty remembering. The man had a strong jaw, wore glasses, and had brown eyes. He smiled. "Having some trouble, ma'am?"
"Umm... yes." Idiot! She berated herself. Obviously she had some trouble. How's that for a stupid answer?
"Have you called somebody?"
Later she reflected and would then realize that she should have gotten out of there then and there, or lied and said yes. Instead she spoke the truth. He looked... kind somehow?
"No..."
He had nice eyes... Get it together, woman!
"Ok... do you have a spare? Tyre, I mean."
She felt like kicking herself. She didn't even know where her car's spare tyre -was-.
"I think so..."
"You're not sure?" He smiled, laughter in his eyes. Suddenly she felt a bit better. She was still a bit scared, but less than before. He looked... ok.
"No..." Now he laughed openly. Just a quick chuckle, but it changed what looked to her to be a normally serious face. He was handsome, she realized with a sudden little kick down low in her belly.
Now -why- am I thinking that -now- of all times?!
"Ok. You want some help?"
"Please!" Now she smiled back. Something she couldn't quite put a name to had raised the metaphorical thumb. She found that her fear was gone. Anxiety had been replaced with...?
He smiled again, chuckled. "Can you open the boot?" She pressed the button. He walked round to the back of the car. She suddenly realized that it was a bit strange to sit locked up in her vehicle while he helped her. She took a few seconds to think. Her sense said to have him help her (IF that was his intent), then drive off after thanking him, never getting out and maybe endangering herself. But the same thing that had prompted her to smile at him now overruled her good sense again. She popped the door and got out, went to the back of her car.
He was -tall- she realised as she looked over the boot sill to see what he was doing. Even bent over to rummage around in the back of her car, she was still not as tall as him.
He lifted the carpet and she discovered she had a fifth wheel.
"There we are... You ever checked pressure on this?"
"No?" He just looked at her funny. This time she giggled. What -are- you doing?!
Easily he lifted it out and set it down next to the flat tire. "I'm Ian, by the way."
"Lisa."
"Hi Lisa." He smiled again. She smiled back. Her heart was hammering, her belly roiled. She somehow knew she was safe, and this was... different.
She stood watching as he got out the jack, put it in place, and lifted her car up. He worked deftly, clearly knowing what he was doing. He had large hands, but also sensitive looking.
In moments he had the new wheel mounted. And then it turned out her spare was flat as well.
"Hmm..." he stood for a moment, thinking. God he was so tall. She barely reached his shoulder. Yet she felt... safe?
"Ok it is not -completely- flat. Tell you what. There's a garage down this way about six k's. If you take it slow, it should hold up until you get there?"
"Ok.. thank you so much! Are you late? You've spent so much time here."
"No problem." He looked around. It was getting dark quickly. "Tell you what. Drive slowly, I'll stay behind you to the garage. Get this properly inflated." She realised with a start he was concerned for her safety. That felt nice. Very nice.
She smiled up at him. "Thank you."
He smiled back.
"My pleasure."
She got in and started up. It felt ok, but with him following she drove slowly to the garage. Once there he got out and inflated the tyre properly.
She again surprised herself, getting out as he finished the tyre.
"Thank you very much, Ian."
"No harm done Lisa."
Before she could stop herself she heard herself saying words. Only once they were out did she realise what she had said.
"I'd like to say thank you sometime. Can I have your number?"
She cringed.
He did look surprised, but only a moment. As he took out his phone, she felt an elation as she never had before. What was happening to her?!
They exchanged numbers.
"Well, take care. Check your spare next time!"
"I will."
As she drove away she had felt... good? About a flat tyre that was going to cost her money to fix.

For a week after that she was in a quandry. She found herself thinking about him alot, whenever she wasn't occupied with something, she remembered his face, the way he stood, the sound of his voice.
Why was he having this effect on her? She knew nothing about him, who he really was, what he was like... Sure he was tall, kind of handsome, she liked the fact that he had stopped to help her... but still?
Her last relationship had been a disaster, hurtful, and horrible - why then had she asked his number?
She found herself regularly checking her phone, wondering if he'd call or message her, but nothing came in.
At last, as she got home Friday of the week after she had met him, she could no longer stand it. Still sitting in her car, hands shaking slightly, she called his number.
The phone rang once, twice... Then the click. "Hi Lisa."
Oh my. He had clearly programmed her number in. Her heart was hammering again. His voice was nice, low and even."Uh... hi Ian, how'r you doing?"
"I'm great thanks. You got the tyre fixed yet?" There was a laugh in his voice. Warmth. She suddenly felt more relaxed.
"Yes! Thanks so much for helping me last week."
"My pleasure."
There was an awkward pause. Get with it Lisa!
"I'd like to say thank you. Would you like to meet me at Burgundy's at Clearwater tomorrow? Brunch? I'm buying."
She felt herself contract, tense anticipation in her belly. Please say yes, please say yes...
"Why that would be nice! I'd love to. What time exactly?"
She was so primed that he was going to say no, that his acceptance caught her completely off guard.
"I'm sorry?" she stammered, then felt like kicking herself.
He chuckled. "How late tomorrow?"
"Oh! Erm... eleven?"
"Deal! See you then."
"Bye."
"Bye!"
Oh boy. Now what?!

She was up before nine the next day. She'd slept surprisingly well, but found herself sitting around and feeling tense and anticipatory long before ten o'clock. What were they going to talk about? What would she say? How would she behave?
At last the time arrived. She made sure she was there a little early.
About five to eleven, she noticed him come in. He was dressed simply, tall, broad shouldered. She waved. His smile was instant.
"Hi!"
"Hi Lisa. Managed to get here without a flat?" A smile played on his mouth, and she found liked her name being said by him.
She laughed, and that broke the ice.
She enjoyed the next few hours more than anything she could quickly remember for that last year.
She learned he did development for a company in an office park about two blocks from hers. He was older than her by about five years, though she'd never have said it by looking at him. To her amazement she found herself relaxing, really relaxing, without having to mind herself the whole time. He was attentive, listening intently to what she said, then providing meaningful responses. She found him easy to talk to. In a few minutes she started to sum him up - highly intelligent, very quick on the uptake, friendly without being overly so. Close up and with more time, she realised he was a handsome man. His brown eyes were large and sensitive, yet there was a male hardness to him, accentuated by his strong jaw, and his chin - somehow his face just... Worked.
They ordered and ate, and after they had been chatting for two hours she suddenly wondered where he'd been all her life. The more she saw the more she liked him. He had an easy, relaxed attitude, yet below that she sensed an awareness, a strange kind of... readiness? It wasn't sexual or anything like that, just... He was making her tingle. Nobody yet had done that to her.
Three hours later and they were still chatting, just enjoying each other's company. They ordered a third round of coffee. She was delighted to find her initial assessment was on target. He was somebody deep - highly intelligent, confident in a quiet kind of way she found quite attractive, calm, and just... what? She could not put a word to it.
When the clock struck four, she couldn't believe it. "Oh my look at the time!" They'd been sitting there for four hours. It had flown by like a second.
He checked his watch. "Yikes! I didn't notice." She realised she didn't want to go, and locked eyes with him, looking for... something. He met her gaze and her heart tripped. He did not flinch, his eyes keeping to hers. She smiled again and he smiled back. A kind of panic seized her. What was -happening-?!
Unbidden and with a lightning-bolt's suddeness, she felt herself squeeze her thighs together, and between them the deeply folded lips of her vulva seemed to... shake? Vibrate? Her vagina cramped suddenly inward emptily on itself, hard, low, shuddery and undoubtably sexual need rippling up her belly and down, back into her thighs. She felt... hot there, so terribly empty, with a powerful desire to be filled (she tried to avoid thinking of being filled with -what-) and with a start she realised she was wet. Had been wet for quite awhile already. She shifted her hips, trying to ignore the burgeoning desire and pleasure and smoldering moistness that had taken posession of her. Her thighs thrummed, hot, quivery. Her vagina cramped again, more insistently this time. She swallowed, looked away.
She realised she didn't want to leave, be away from -him-. Even for a moment.
"Have I kept you from doing stuff?" she asked, a quick plan coming to her.
"Not at all. Got nowhere else to be at the moment. You?"
"Same... listen want to catch a movie or something?"
He nodded. "Sure thing! What do you like to watch?"
And so what she'd later decide was "round two" began. They both took a bathroom break - hers leading to discovering that she wasn't just -wet- she had been literallly dripping - and met back at the door of the coffee place. Even the few minutes away from him had somehow enhanced what she was feeling.
They drifted down through the mall, heading toward the cinemas. It was nice to even just walk next to him, so tall... She felt safe, special, and hot and bothered all the time. She realised she'd have loved to hold hands even though she'd now known him less than seven hours in total.
The rational part of her mind was spinning, yammering at her. You don't know him at all, you're reacting too quickly, you're impressing your perception of the situation on him, you've so far been doing all the proactive stuff... The emotional (and she admitted to herself, sexual) part of her was like a purring cat, langourously stretching and twining itself around, in the crook of her thighs her slitted sex thrummed with slow, wet, cramping desire. It knew what -it- wanted. Walking around wasn't helping the cavernously empty feeling down there, nor the insistent little cramps.
They chose a popcorn movie (later, she'd have had trouble knowing what it was or remembering the half of it) - and spent most of it studying him surreptitiously from the corner of her eye. Anything to be with him a little longer. Lisa, you're going crazy.
Afterward, as they were walking out he suggested dinner. Joy burst in her heart - was he reciprocating?
Eventually, after the most enjoyable afternoon and evening she could remember in a very, very long time, it was over. He walked her to her car, and they were still talking.
It was so easy - she didn't have to think, measure her words, or her reactions. She found she could just... Relax with him. Be herself.
Then it was goodbye. She found she did not want to be away from him, the lonely evening ahead terrifying her. He was very courteous, gentlemanly, opening her door for her, closing it for her again.
She wouldn't have minded a quick hug, maybe even a kiss. He did not press at all, and her reason said that it was very much too early. Her heart said else.
"Well, thank you very much Ian. It was a wonderful afternoon." She smiled upward as broadly as she could, holding his eyes. He returned the smile.
"Same here Lisa." There was an awkward moment of silence. "Can I give you a call sometime?"
Oh yes!
"I'd like that. Anytime."
"Cool!" His smile was broad and generous. Her heart leapt.
Oh please. Please...!

The week passed slowly. She kept her phone by her at all times. Evenings were an agony, trying and failing to not check the phone every few minutes. Was he going to call or text? Would he phone? Was he thinking of her? She could not know.
She had some time to consider the whole thing. She'd checked out his workplace, called in, confirmed that he did have a position there. She mulled the whole thing in her mind, considering the angles.
She decided she liked him. Really liked him. It wasn't love, not yet, but there was a calmness she felt when with him, that had begun almost immediately. A completeness, a sense of belonging that was overwhelming in its intensity. She liked the way he talked and walked, the quiet courtesy he showed, the gentlemanly way he conducted himself. There was a sense of strength in him that attracted her immensely.
She did know that the woman in her - more precisely the physical, female part of her - had raised a thumb. More like raised her clitoris. And it erect at that. After she had gotten home from "that Saturday" (as she liked to think of it) she had masturbated herself, for the first time in a very long while. It had been truly exceptional, her climax almost instant and stunningly intense after she had lightly brushed her wet lips with her fingers for a few minutes. The pleasure had been electric, overwhelming, piercing her like an arrow made of fire. Yet even in the
deepest throes of that orgasm, as she gasped and squirmed with it, something was missing. For once she was very aware of her vagina, the inside of her, emptily and rhytmically cramping and releasing hungrily on itself as the pleasure of her climax rose and fell, rose and fell.
Afterward, she realised she had wanted something, specifically one very special part of him, inside it when it had happened. The mere thought of experiencing her peak with him close by, on her, in her, riding her... She had to stifle the thought or she would catch fire all over again.
He called her again on the Friday, the breathless excitement this caused her surprising in its strength and intensity. She was amazed how pleased and just -good- she felt hearing his voice. She put as much warmth and eagerness into her voice as she dared when accepting his request for a dinner date the Sunday. It was quite a nice place he was taking her to.
The dinner was wonderful, a beautiful evening spent with him. The conversation was more serious this time - politics and religion coming into it - and she was pleased. Her initial assessment was confirmed again - he had an incredible general knowledge, perception and curiosity. He was a good listener, she could see him trying to talk less than her and rather get her to talk about things. And all the time that self-possedness of him, always in control, the consideration she could see in him.
Their waitress was young, a university student, clearly nervous and scared. Ian treated her as courteously as he treated everyone, and she realised at one stage he was actively trying to make waiting on them easier for her. He treated her gently and with respect.
Lisa found that wonderful, but also not. She suddenly found that a consuming posessiveness had taken hold of her - if he so much looked at even the girl waiting on the table, she wanted to scratch her eyes out. Mine!
Rationality was retreating, and she did not mind. She wondered if he was feeling the same. The way he behaved had changed slightly, he was not too shy about meeting her eyes, but there was still some reserve in him.
After that she saw him regularly, sometimes once or twice a week. She started to get used to being near him, talking with him and being with him. She got more and more engrossed with him, his style of doing things, especially the way he made her feel.
After one month she knew she was lost. Completely in love with him, beyond her wildest expectations. He dominated her thoughts, and for the first time in a long while she found herself masturbating regularly, her thoughts always of him, some terrible, yet wonderful fantasy of love and smoking hot sex and tenderness and hugs and kisses dominating her thoughts.
She was a bit surprised, if she was honest with herself, that he had reached thirty-eight and not gotten hitched yet. It didn't really concern her though. Everything was great, except... there was a reserve to him, something she had discovered early. She sensed it wasn't... danger or something, but rather... something emotional?
He was always courteous, polite to a fault. He was funny, strong, intelligent, yet...?
They kept seeing each other, and she enjoyed every second intensely, but ever so slowly she was starting to worry. She already knew she was in love with him, and she was starting to reach the point where the desire and sheer need to tell him how she felt and find out if he reciprocated, was starting to become unbearable.
What worried her more was his physical reticence. He was warm to her, oh so careful, opening doors, etc. but the physical aspect was... absent?
After two months (and she was still unsure if it even was a relationship) she was genuinely concerned.
More than once she had subtly hinted that it would be okay if he'd wanted to hold her hand, or just hugged her. She was too scared and he was too precious for her to just hug him, and maybe scare him or make him uncomfortable?
She desperately needed... something from him, some sign that he felt the same. She -liked- his courtesy, the way he did NOT touch her at all, but she also hated it with every fibre of her womanhood, -wanted- it to happen.
She realised as she got up one morning that a day where he wasn't involved was dreary, boring, dry.
What she liked to think of as a relationship continued - they saw each other regularly, time always flew while they were together, laughed together. But she wanted more. Much more. Her heart was bursting, but he did not seem to notice, at all.
Things finally came to a head about three months after she had met him.
She was alone at home, feeling irritated. They had been out again, and again he had not held her hand, otherwise touch her, or done anything affectionate. She had lost her temper just a little with him, and she had seen his stunned reaction. Immediately she had regretted her outburst - he had just quietly turned away, taken her home, escorted her to the door, said goodbye and waited until she had deadlocked it.
There hadn't been any... passion from him, no anger even, and she had a distressing hint that she had done something irreversably stupid.
On the other hand, did she want to have anything to do with a man who was apparently, when the rubber met the road, and in actual fact, totally cold to her?
It hurt.
She tried to sleep, failed. At one o'clock in the morning she gave up, turned on the light. She phoned him, her hands shaking so badly she could hardly hold her phone.
He answered half asleep, and she felt an immediate pang of... what? He clearly wasn't as distressed as her.
"Lisa...? You okay?" Was there at last some animation in his voice?
"Ian I - look, I'm sorry about my behaviour tonight. I apologise." She suddenly felt teary. Her chest felt as if it was being ripped open.
"No apology necessary, Lisa." She didn't like the tone of his voice, the way he said it, the almost icy politeness.
She broke down. She just couldn't handle it anymore. She burst into tears.
"Ian I - I'm sorry..." she blubbered crying full tilt. What is happening to me?
"Lisa? What-"
"I - I..." she cried again. Her heart hurt in her chest, the hurt spreading up her neck, choking her.
"Are you at home? Are you alright?" he was fully awake now, and some... tone in his voice suddenly sent a shiver of fear down her spine. He sounded different suddenly. Dangerous even. What...?
"Yes..."
"Stay there. I'm coming over."
She tried to reply, but found herself speaking to the hangup tone.
He was at her door eleven minutes later. She knew where he lived and realized he must have virtually flown to get there so fast.
He was wearing a track suit and looked... angry? She suddenly felt real fear, he looked about ready to kill someone. Her heart burning with pain,she opened the gate still crying and simply reached for him, at the point of collapse. She couldn't help herself, all the pent up emotion came bubbling up, overwhelming her. He was clearly startled, freezing, but then he wriggled his arms out and tentatively put them around her. Oh god please... she cried and cried.
Still he stood rather stiffly, awkwardly. "There now... shhh... what's wrong...?"
She had buried her face in his chest, a fresh outburst of crying overwhelming her. Nothing had ever felt so good, he smelled so good, yet it was so painful, her emotions choking her.
"I'm sorry... I'm sorry..."
"Hey... there now... there now..."
He gently pushed her into the house, closed the door. She was still crying freely, her chest hurting with emotion.
He sat her down, sitting across from her.
"Why do you sit across from me?"
"I'm sorry? What do you mean?"
"I- look I-" It was too much, she jumped up, ran to the bathroom, slammed the door.
He was there in an instant. "Lisa?"
"I'm sorry... give me a minute." She realized she looked terrible, hair a mess, her face puffy. She fought down the overwhelming tides of emotion, washed her face. Tried to compose herself. At last she forced herself to open the door. He was there, at least looking concerned.
She wanted to walk past him, to where she had no idea. He took her by the shoulders, gently, but firmly, stopped her. The strength she felt in his hands... they were gripping lightly, stopping her solidly, but there was a terrifying hint that that strength wasn't even the beginning of how hard those big hands could grip.
She suddenly realized she was in her night gown, her nightie underneath, no bra. Why am I thinking of such things NOW?
"Lisa. Stop. Right now."
His voice was - strange. He scared her then, the powerful hands, his broad shoulders, the handsome square jawed face towering over her. The commanding tone in his voice.
"Calm down. Breathe. Breathe, ok? I'm not going anywhere. Breathe with me. In and out. Again. See? Easy peasy. Calm... that's better. See? Easy..."
He let go of her shoulders.
She didn't want him to.
"I'm sorry..."
"Ok we have established that you are sorry. Apology accepted. Calm, remember? Easy. I'm not going anywhere. Tell me -are you ok-? Did something happen?"
"You did."
"Say again?" With a sick slide of dread in her belly she realized that this was it.
"You happened. To me." She sniffed. It -hurt-.
He seemed puzzled.
"Did I do something wrong?"
She bit her lip. "I - I think I..."
"Yes? Tell me. No judgments, ok?"
"I love you."
He seemed not to hear, then his eyes widened.
She sniffed away a tear, looked down. Then started crying again.
"You...?"
"I love you. I have loved you for a long time now."
He was frozen, staring at her.
"Lisa, I-"
"Please... please just... listen. Please..."
He immediately closed his mouth.
"I love you, okay? I really, really care for you. You are the best thing that has ever come into my life, ever."
She locked his eyes to hers. His expression was unreadable.
She sighed, wanted to cry again, looked down.
"Tonight was just... how do you feel about me? I hope you..." and she lost it, bursting into tears again. She was losing all control.
"It's just I don't know about you! You're so funny and bright and kind and I have loved you for awhile now but you are so... you never touch me, you never hold my hand, and I need you to so much...!"
She was out of control, holding her hands up in supplication, her heart tearing out of her chest.
And he stepped forward. His arms slipped around her. He did not say anything, just a long, firm hug, his cheek pressed to the crown of her head. The -first- one. "Shh... there now. Shh..."
She cried. He held her. The hurt was tinged with warmth, a scared tentative hope building in her. It felt so good to be held by him.
Eventually he spoke, still holding her.
"Lisa... oh Lisa... but I love you! I feel the same way... I was just.. scared of coming on to you too strong. That's why I'm so careful..."
She felt like pinching herself. Did he just...?!
"But... but?"
He embraced her again, tightly.
"You are -very- important to me, Lisa. I love you. I'm sorry that I haven't tried to show it more. I wasn't... certain. The last thing I wanted was to scare you away..." He nuzzled her head. It felt incredible. His arms, his chest...
"But you wouldn't have! I've wanted you to just... so long now!" She was amazed.
He leaned her back, brushed her hair tenderly from her forehead. She loved his touch, the tender, careful way he did it.
"You are the best thing that has ever happened to me too, Lisa. I care about you too. I love you."
"Hold me. Hold me... don't ever let me go."
He did, gently rocking her, nuzzling her crown tenderly.
A long time later he stepped back, looking into her eyes. "I love you. I feel the same way you do."
She felt transported, bursting into tears again. Tears of relief this time. Understanding, he chuckled, pulled her close again.
Awhile later she made coffee, then they sat on her couch, his arm around her, her head nuzzling in his neck and shoulder. The hurt still hurt, but she felt much better.
"When did you know?"
He breathed in deeply, nuzzled her hair again. "Not really sure. June I guess."
"Why?" she sat up, drowning in his eyes.
"Just you, Lisa. I mean physically you're... oh you've got no idea... but once I got to know the woman in -there-", he said, as he gently touched her forehead, "I was lost."
"Why?"
"Everything. You're gentle, kind, caring to an extreme. You're intelligent, honest and funny. You are -extremely- attractive. Those dark, honey eyes, your hair..." he shifted, uncomfortably.
"I love everything. Your laugh. Your walk. The way you carry your purse. The way you get into a car. The way you sit, the tilt of that neat little head, your cute little nose, the sound of your laugh... How you treat people that can do nothing for you – that waiter we had last time... gentle and kind. What's not to love?"
She was amazed. She reached up, cupped his face tenderly. His stubble was prickly against her palms and fingers.
"Why did you not -tell- me...?" Her heart was glowing.
"I was scared. Really. I've felt... well, I've gotten hurt. Before..."
"Whoever she was, she was a goddamn idiot."
He chuckled. She wanted a kiss, -badly- wanted one, but instead lay her head down on his chest and shoulder again. He put his arm around her, hugged her just tightly enough. His heart was powerful, beating slowly under her ear.
"Did I hurt you...? I never, ever want to hurt you."
Her heart squeezed again. "I was just getting desperate. I've lost myself to you, I really have. It can be... terrible. Not knowing if the other person... I'm in love with you, but-"
"I understand exactly what you mean. You were, you are extremely important to me. I did not want to become clingy, too early, I-"
She came up, took his face in her hands again, and kissed him. It happend so naturally, she didn't even think about it.
He was stunned for a moment, then he started returning it. Heaven had come to earth.
How long they kissed she did not know. It was quite chaste, yet delectable, electric, arousing and emotional, all rolled into one, sweeping her away in a soaring torrent of emotion and sensation as she had hungered for for months. He reached up and cradled her head in turn. Eventually, an indefinite amount of time later, she put her head on his chest again. She felt unbelievably safe and content. His chest was warm through the tracksuit top, his heart still beating slowly and reassuringly next to her ear. It felt so... right.
"Wow... thank you."
"Hold me. Just... hold me. Please. Oh please..."
He did. She suddenly thought of sex and making love to him, and realized she really wanted to, hungered to with her very soul. But she sensed this wasn't the time.
"It's really okay to touch me... I don't break easily. I love hugs... ok?"
He chuckled, kissed her hair.
"I've certainly wanted to hold your hand. And... kiss you." He blushed.
"Why didn't you? It would have been so welcome!" She sat up again, looking into his eyes, her hands twining with his.
"I did not want to scare you off. You're too important."
"You wouldn't have scared me off. Quite the contrary..." She leaned foreward again, kissed him, hugged him tightly. He hugged back, nuzzling her hair.
She was unsure how long they sat like that. He cuddled her, gently stroking her back, kissed her head, and she would occasionally surface for a long, satisfying kiss, then lay her head on his chest again. Eventually she fell asleep.
Sometime later she half woke up, felt a blanket around her. She jerked, then relaxed. He was still there, still cradling her. He must have somehow gotten up, fetched her a blanket, then pulled her in close and covered her. He smelled so nice - man but also his own smell, kind of clean and masculine and warm and wonderful. He was dozing, and nuzzled back down against his chest. They were still on her sofa - oh for a big bed, no clothes, and him close! She cramped again.
She smiled into his slowly breathing chest, drew his clean warm smell deep into her nose, and drifted off.
She woke again. Somehow it was morning, and she felt more refreshed than ever before. Immediately she started, then relaxed - he was still there. So real. So wonderful.
"Morning, " she smiled up at him. His face was in repose, half asleep. His eyes flickered open, a smile coming instantly to his lips. Warmth shot through her. Oh yes...
"Have you been sitting here all night?!"
She was amazed. He was... so committed?
"Yes." He smiled gently, eyes dancing.
She wanted to kiss him, and then did, honestly and simply. It was glorious. There was definite sexual tension but also just deep emotional satisfaction in the simple act.
The thought that, if he reached for her then and there, she'd respond unreservedly and give herself, everything, to him, flitted through her mind, stunning her with its power. She jerked back from the tender little kiss, stunned by the force and the sudden soaring pleasure and powerful wave of arousal that gripped her firmly around her vagina and vulva-lips (and... anus?! How can she feel that glorious sensation in her -anus-?!) and then vibrated and pulsed outward over her tensed body.
He noticed, and savage joy mounted on top of the sensual surge of hot, melting excitement coursing through her, as she saw it move in his eyes and handsome face.
He laughed softly, pulled her close. Oh god oh yessss!
She kissed him again, then again, tenderly, then laid her head on his chest, enjoying the tightening of his arms about her and a nuzzled kiss on her head. She just tried to breathe, trying to handle the sensations he was causing deep inside her core womanhood.
"Want coffee?" she asked some time later.
"Oh yes!"
And they discovered he couldn't get up. Sitting so still with her in his arms had cramped him up completely. She was stunned by this - uncomplaining, he had cradled her the rest of the night, not moving, letting her sleep.
Amid much giggling and grimaces, she helped him up, he complaining playfully and she laughing.
It all felt so natural, so good and uplifting and right...
She made them coffee, then they sat close alongside again.
"So do you feel better now?"
"Much."
"Good." He wrapped an arm about her and drew her in for a kiss.
"Ah I love that!" It was the first time he had really initiated.
"Is that okay with you? If I do that?"
"More than... you are so welcome to do that at any time. Ever. I'm crazy about that. I love it. From you."
He got this amazed, tender look on his face and it felt as if her heart was collapsing into itself.
They cuddled for awhile more. There was simply no higher heaven for her.
"I don't want to go home."
Joy pulsed in her chest again.
She hugged him, pressed her head to his chest.
"I don't want you to..."
She lay listening to the slow beat of his heart next to her ear. She sighed, nestled herself more tightly against him.
Then she came up again, drew his mouth down to hers.
At first it was a before, tender, and gentle... but she felt electric somehow, her whole body pulsing, and she realized she was incredibly aroused, her vulva dripping wet with sexual excitement, her vagina cramping inward again and again, making her want to shiver her thighs and tighten her belly. The kiss went on, and she couldn't stand it anymore, opening her lips slightly and pushing her tongue into his mouth, her low, female groan unmistakable in its invitation.
He seemed startled, she could feel him pause, then his tongue met hers and he made a sound, something between a groan and a grunt, and with another kick of arousal she wondered if he was erect and wet as she was, and the arms around her tightened hard. Oh yes yes yes!
The kiss went on and on, the were devouring each other, licking, kissing each other's face repeatedly, small groans and cries escaping her involuntarily. Her body felt afloat, her mind lost in a torrent of such emotional and physical arousal as she could not remember feeling ever before. He was still pretty calm, she was waiting for him to reach for her breasts, touch her thighs, anything at all but he just kept kissing her. Oh his control!
She had been in this situation before, she had been masturbated (inexpertly, and to no effect) by a man like this before, but this felt so much more intense – thousands of times worse than anything she had experienced ever before. She was leaking, she felt it, fluids seeping from the double-folded petals of her sex, her panties were dripping wet, her nipples sparking and swollen and almost painful with hot excitement, her legs tingling, even her hair felt as if it was floating away from her head. She wanted to mount him, rip his pants off and impale that thrumming, silky soft tender gash on his steel-hard, blood-warm penis, and she wanted it so badly she could scream with it.
At last she could stand it no more, backed off, gasping, her face flushed, simply looking up at him. She was on the verge of orgasm, just from what was still not really sex, just kissing and hugging.
He did not seem in a much better condition, and she saw the raw arousal in him, his mouth slightly open, and she was intensely aware of her breasts laying on his chest, her pebble-hard nipples digging into him through the thin material of her gown and his tracksuit top.
“God...” she breathed softly, “oh my god...”
He looked at her. She looked at him.
“You little mynx....” he chided her softly, kissed her forehead.
“Wow... oh my god just... wow...” she gasped. They both knew what they meant.
“Take a break?” he offered. He was clearly just as excited as she was. Joy suffused her being.
“Yeah... I don't want to... but... yeah.”
He gently moved her aside, stood up. She could trust her legs to hold her up and turned to follow him with her gaze, still on the couch.
He walked up and down a few times. Despite herself she tried to look for his erection, but unfortunately the tracksuit pants were too baggy, but she knew it was there.
And he loves me!! I caused that for him!
It went through her again. She knew if he came over to her know, ripped her clothing off her and took her, rammed his penis into her screaming wet lips, she would welcome it, -revel- in it and scream and scream and scream with the pleasure of it – she -felt- her orgasm in the wings, the lightest touch -there- would set it off like a nuclear bomb – but he was controlling himself, better than her, she had to admit, and it indicated his love for her – he really cared, he did not want to make a mistake with her, go too far... she understood it all, but it also frustrated her a bit. She wanted to entrance him, control him completely, take away that control, turn him into a ravening a****l, have him... fuck her till she screamed...
Yet there he was, laughing at her.
“You sure you're okay?”
She swallowed.
“Honestly?”
“Honestly.”
“Not really...” she giggled weakly.
“Me neither.”
“Ian, I... oh come here.”
She got up, unable to stand it, grabbed him. In heaven, he closed his arms around her again. He kissed her head.
She looked up at him. “Do you... want me...? Her meaning was unmistakable.
“Yes... more than anything. But I-”
She looked up at him. He was so tall. So strong.
“I want to be good for you. Do it right.”
She felt disappointed, but thought she understood.
He tweaked her nose, gently. She giggled.
“Guess I got to get dressed, huh?” she teased. His eyes glanced at her breasts.
“You better... your virtue is in danger, ma'am!”
She giggled, stood on tiptoe. “We must talk, you and I.” She offered her mouth and he kissed it. She broke off after a few moments, pleasure surging through her.
“I'm going to loose it...!” She was so aroused she couldn't stand still.
“Ha! YOU are going to loose it?”
“Really? You mean you...?”
He nodded, and for the first time she noted that he was sweating slightly.
“Oh my... you -sure-...?” she offered again, her vagina cramping so hard it felt her legs were going to give out. She wanted to scream, beg him for his penis... so close...
He kissed her once more. She almost reached forward, feeling for the hard long shaft of his penis, but stayed her hand. Not yet...
“Oh Lisa I care too much... Let's talk a bit first... I'm so scared I do something now and it is maybe too far...”
“But it won't be... really... you are so welcome.... to... to...” she almost couldn't bring herself to say it, but he understood completely.
“I know Lisa... I love you.”
“And I you. Never doubt that. Never forget it. You... you're my everything...” Suddenly she felt close to tears again, a powerful cocktail of emotion roaring in her chest. Shuddery, smoldering desire but also such an intense feeling of love as she had never felt before.
They kissed again, chastely at first, and then with mounting passion. At last he groaned, pulled away, kissed her forehead.
“We got to stop... -now- honey... or...”
She giggled weakly. She was right on the cusp of orgasm, everything wet and quivering and trembling.
Her knees weak, she walked him to the door.
“Are we ok?” she asked, holding him again, laying her head on his chest.
“Yes. Call me?”
“I will. Come here...”
She kissed him again. “I love you.”
“I love you! You're beautiful....”
And he turned and left.

They texted all that day, and the next. The Monday she called him, and the conversation was... so natural, and felt so good. After he had left she had collapsed against the door and thrust a hand down her panties and had immediately had a nuclear explosion of an orgasm the moment her fingers touched her vulva lips, and even in the throes of the burning, driving -ecstasy- of it she knew, just -knew- that it was nothing compared to what it would have been like if he was near her, with her, -in- her when it happened.
They stayed in different parts of town, but they practically began living together. They saw each other virtually every day. The conversations got deeper, more open, and she delighted and revelled in getting to know him more intimately. The more she saw and learned of him the more she desired – he was everything she had suspected the past months, and so much more – a genuine MAN – kind, caring, considerate, strong, gentle – especially his gentleness attracted her immensely, the extremely careful way he handled her, his small smiles, a wink, a gentle touch on her shoulder, the careful way he held her hand, as if it was made of fine porcelain and could break if handled too roughly.
She learned for the first time what real desire was, a soul-screaming NEED for another person, for a man, the desperate, tearing, consuming -hunger- to hear him laugh, listen to his voice, see his brown eyes look into hers, hold his hand, feel his lips against hers, hear the deep maleness of his voice, be held by him, feel his warmth.
The days without him (which sometimes had to come, their schedules did not always allow time together every single day) were the purest form of torture. She could not stop thinking of him, wondering what he was doing, what he was thinking. She grafted her cellphone to herself, tried to control her rate and pace of texting, but just couldn't. He always replied, always kind, courteous, attentive, careful, considerate, gentle, loving. Her friends noticed, and some gentle teasing ensued. She introduced him around, and with an almost vicious little lick of enjoyment noted how her single friends reacted to him. They were attracted too – but he was hers! Mine...
She masturbated herself silly, almost every day, sometimes twice, something she hadn't done since her early teens when she had discovered her vulva and learned how and how good it could make her feel if she rubbed and played with it. He filled her mind, and she wove every fantasy she could imagine around him, some silly, some completely unrealistic, all of them ending in fiery lovemaking, her orgasms surging sexual explosions.
Their cuddling continued, sometimes torture, sometimes not, depending on if she had climaxed on her own before he came round. She lived for those hours, in his arms, still clothed, but just to have him hold her, feel him near... she had trouble controlling herself, but he was very strong. He never teased, but behaved honorably, gently stopping her. She hungered for him, but she also loved him deeply and understood why he wanted to wait. She felt she did not need to, he was her man, and that was it for her.
A month or two passed, and she became sure of him. Absolutely sure. He was the man she wanted. Forever. Hers.
After three more months, things came to a head for her. He was at her place, they had watched a movie, and as was their custom they were gently cuddling and kissing afterward. Things were reasonably hot, and he was very controlled as always, kissing her. She wanted to respond, and then it was if something in her just... snapped.
She broke the kiss, pushed him away. He immediately stopped, the look on his face squeezing her heart – a mixture of surprise and hurt.
“Ian I've had enough.”
He just looked at her.
“It's been six months...” she stroked his face, her heart imploding. “I can't wait anymore, lovely Ian. My beloved. My only man... I cannot wait one more moment. We have to settle this. I can't stand it.”
He looked at her.
“Do you want to...?”
Her body trembled.
“Yes... but I want more than that. I want you.”
Oh Ian!
He reached for her hand.
“Lisa.”
She felt tears near. “Will you... marry me? Hold me? Make me yours... forever?”
He looked at her.
“Of course... you're the only woman I want... you are so perfect and lovely and I want you.”
“And I you...” for a long moment he looked into her eyes, and she reached up, drew him to her.
The kiss was unlike anything she had ever felt, and suddenly she was glad she had bought condoms, that they were close by the couch, for the kiss was the -end-.
As soon as his lips touched hers it was if something... cracked inside her. She moaned hungrily, feeling herself loose all control. She wrapped her hands behind his head, opened her mouth, urgently thrust her tongue against his. Her body was on fire, her sex swimming,wet with a level of sexual arousal she had never before felt, hot, pulsing slowly, insidious. Her vagina was spasming, everything was alive, hot, tingling, dripping wet, and she groaned urgently into his mouth again, his tongue moving against hers, and she simply could NOT help herself, reaching down, feeling for him, finding him, hard, rubbery, through the clothes, and a low warning growl shuddered into his mouth as she gripped his enormous shaft firmly and squeezed, unable and unwilling to stop or control herself. She moaned aloud, it was so -huge-.
He reached up for her blouse, his hands desperately urgent, and she moaned into his mouth in welcome. He fiddled with her buttons for a few moments, then with a dangerous growl gripped firmly and -ripped- and she didn't care as her blouse's buttons popped off and the material tore and he ripped her bra open. She moaned again, writhing, shivering her shoulders, wanting her breasts free, her nipples little guttering flames, hard as stone. He rammed her torn bra down, reached in, roughly popped one of her swirling breasts loose, the air shocking and cool on the soft enflamed skin.
He broke the kiss, she didn't want him too, but he was so strong, and a triumphant, almost vicious thrill took hold of her, sex and lust and intense love forming a cocktail of delight as she had never imagined could exist as she saw him loose his control, the man, the a****l emerge... and she was the reason.
He hesitated, and the fire in his eyes dwindled, his familiar self-control was re-asserting itself, and she acted, freeing her breasts, doing it quickly before he could have second thoughts, grasping them with her hands and thrusting them up at him, nipples little pink pebbles, sparking and electric with arousal and delight.
“Don't stop don't stop please... please... oh please please please...” Her belly felt hollow in anticipation, her vagina cramping and empty, demanding, -screaming- to be filled...
The light faded from his eyes, replaced by something that suddenly terrified her, but also excited her to the point of virtual insanity. He grunted again, dropping his head, his mouth slipping onto her nipple, and he sucked and gently bit, and she shrieked with the piercing, sudden delight that surged through her, unlike anything sexual she had ever experienced. She had been excited by herself before, came by herself, but nothing, ever, had been like -this-.
She choked out another scream, for he switched to her other tingling breast, and followed this up with a loud, welcoming moan as at last, he touched -her-, placing his hand on her still denim-clad mound and pressing down firmly, squashing the red hot, slowly smoking gash of her vulva firmly with his palm, gripping it hard with his fingers. Reality seemed to fall over and her mind went blank for a few moments, the sensations beyond anything she had felt, ever. She felt herself teetering on the brink of... it couldn't be an orgasm. Orgasms did not feel like this, this swirling blast-furnace of driving, dangerous ecstasy that was starting to possess her, crawling like sparks of slow, hot fire all over her body, driven by the quivering river of sexual delight pouring out from the fat mound of her sex at the crook of her thighs.
Or, she thought with lucidity rapidly fading, she had just never really had an orgasm then... this was -better- than an orgasm, more intense, and yet this wasn't an orgasm, not yet. For one thing, it went on too long... so this was -real- sexual pleasure, and arousal... with a real man... she'd just never experienced it, and it was more pleasurable and exciting than a full masturbatory orgasm for her.
In that moment she understood so many things, -why- men and women... but then his face came back up to hers, his hand squeezed her still-clad, dripping, powerfully throbbing vulva firmly in another horrendous avalanche of sexual delight, and rationality faded as she grunted like an a****l into his mouth.
They kissed like they were possessed, he licked her face, and she his, groaning, moaning softly, nipping the tip of his nose, licking his eyes and cheeks, his mouth. Somehow (later she'd almost have to replace everything she had been wearing – torn, or ripped) their clothes got taken care off, urgently unbuttoned, or simply ripped out of the way, pants rammed downward, panties ripped down and off, shirt roughly ripped open, brassiere destroyed and torn in two in the middle, little cries of welcome and discovery, sighs of deep need and passion, her soft cries.
She couldn't care less about him destroying her wardrobe.
Somehow, at last, her denim rammed down around her thighs, her panties ripped down and away with her desperately eager participation, his fingers found her, his mouth against hers, and it was like fingers of lightning, scoring her, burning deep into the soft, open peach of her sex. Now his hand was gentle, so careful, and she felt him smile against her lips as he gently, lovingly explored the dripping wetness of her tiny cleft, stroking, opening, revealing, his fingertips slipping inside the wet pink folds of her inner lips, gently rubbing, touching, exploring. She felt like an a****l, trapped in a cage of such delights it was almost beyond her sanity, only capable of two things, breathing like a sprinter and writing with the incredible surging, electric ecstasy his gentle, lover's touch on her most private place elicited in her. Her vagina cramped in, then cramped again, and again, hungering for his hardness, she wanted him to -RAM- it into her... it was a panic and soaring physical pleasure beyond her imagination.
She was going mad.
She wrenched her mouth from his, insanity filling her. “I need you inside me... I need your hot penis inside me NOW....! Oh god oh god please I can't stand this...!”
She reached for him, found his thick shaft, hard, hot as molten lava, alive in her hand, pulsing slowly, its skin soft as silk, but as she squeezed it was rock hard underneath and he groaned loudly into her mouth. Through her own soaring excitement, she explored too, just like he was exploring her, his scrotum large and full and furry, filling her small hand to overflowing, his testicles heavy and round as she slipped them softly and lovingly over her fingers.
But his penis... oh god his lovely, perfect penis...!
She wanted to look, but the he kissed her harder once again, and she let her hands do the walking, it was so hot and -heavy- (she had never though that part of a man could be so heavy) and slowly pulsating in rhythm with his heartbeat, soft and hard together, the most wonderful thing she had ever touched, it felt as thick as her wrist. It was absolutely enormous (or at least felt so), the shaft so thick that at the base she could barely close her hand around it. It had the characteristic male fluting as she ran her hand up the shaft, till she got to what she thought of as its neck, the part just behind the... head. It was so... she couldn't quantify it, his... (the mere thought of it made her head spin) was uncircumcised, his glans a huge, swollen plum, like an old medieval club with a long, round head, soft and spongy and mounted on top of the rock hard shaft of the rest of his throbbing penis.
It moved powerfully in her hand as she squeezed again, and he grunted. “Lisa...”
The rest was like a very serious, very fast traffic accident.
“Put it in me... come into me... come into me!” She almost screamed it, pushing down on the hard, rubbery length of it and he moved down and she angled it and the big blunt head nudged her vulva lips and it was like a nuclear explosion of pleasure rippling over her entire being and it moved again in her hand and he groaned loud and urgently.
“Yes... yes! Push into me... push... push!”
She spread herself, but she was so wet her lips just slipped away under her fingers, but he thrusted forward, the head parting her, wetting itself, slipping into the folds, and she felt herself... open, and then he was thrusting gently forward and then she felt her lips folding inward and then opening and parting and giving way and she realized he wasn't wearing a condom and she didn't care as her white-hot sexual pleasure surged out of her pussy to burst in a melting explosion against the top of her head.
It was indescribable. The sheer, roaring physical -pleasure- of the oldest act made her entire body seem to burn, the heart of the flame her vulva and labia and clitoris and vagina. She felt every inch of him, slowly sliding into her, pushing into her throbbing vagina, separating it, filling it, his penis's body hard as burning iron inside her silky, satiny wet softness. She stopped breathing, frozen, her entire reality concentrated on the tiny, silky folds of her most private place as it filled up and expanded and lengthened as he kept penetrating her, sliding deeper, shuddering, stabbing his penis into her body, his beloved face contorting above her.
Through the cascade of sexual delight she realized he was fighting for control still, his thrust gentle but a ravening hunger was claiming her and she grabbed his buttocks, thrusting her hips up and hissed in his ear.
“Push! Push oh god please push... ram me... ram it in!” and he lost control and grunted, ramming forward hard and his entire penis slapped wetly into the pouting gash of her sex, pushing her major labia and minor labia lips inward and outward, and he stabbed up into her with a low male cry and everything turned white-red for a few moments, streamers of fire arcing out over her inflamed, buzzing skin from her quickly-melting coot, her anus a little coal of fire where his scrotum butted up against it.
At last she dropped back into her body, everything was him, his quick breathing, his great weight on her, the slippery-slimy utterly wonderful place where they were joined, the sheer sensuality and godawful pleasure of having his enormous, iron-stiff manhood, burning like a hot brand, thrusted deep inside her tender-pink little slit like a sword of flesh... it was almost too much to process, the different nuances of carnal delight consuming her, the feel of his penis, the exact way her minor labia was gripping it, the electric, surging currents of slowly building ecstasy her erect clitoris was emitting, the way it rode over his shaft, the -feel- of her vagina gripping tight onto his rock hardness, the way his pubic bone was pressed against her thrumming, hairy mound... she felt like screaming, and she did.
He choked off the shriek of ecstasy with his mouth, and she felt him start to move, thrusting hard but slowly, out, then in.
She was going out of her mind, it felt as if her skin was splitting open from inside, again the streamers of fire burning out over her. She gave up and screamed into his mouth.
This couldn't be happening, this couldn't be real... the pleasure was so intense she felt like dying with it, and yet, still, it wasn't orgasm, not nearly... for it was going on too long, the ecstatic, electric surge each time he thrust his hugely erect penis firmly into her yielding furry-pink gash, sexual delight rocketing up her spine to explode inside her head, a ravening, roaring burst of raw a****l pleasure each time he slammed down into her, taking control of her mouth on the way up, forcing it to open and making it emit strange sounds she'd never heard or known she could make.
And through all the physicality of it, it was still -him-, her love, her fine, gentle, intelligent man, the emotional enjoyment of it all, the maximum intimacy, seemed to act as a lens, the trust, the love she felt for him, it seemed to focus the sexual sensations to a tiny little burning center deep in her very soul.
She couldn't lay still, she threw her legs, quivering and shaking, over his back, hooked her heels to his sexy buttocks, helped him thrust, pushing herself up against him, frantically grinding her throbbing/buzzing vulva up at him, meeting his downward thrusts, gasping, groaning, little screams each time they were fully joined, managing to breathe only when he withdrew and then another little shriek as he rammed his sexual organ forward and down into the frantically clasping depths of her cunny.
His thrusts were quickening now, getting deeper, harder, more urgent. A small rational part of her her noted this, but she couldn't react, she couldn't think, her own sanity evaporating as the pleasure inside her vulva built and built on itself. It was still mostly just here, in the swollen double-lips and pink and wet folds and crenelations, heat and electricity mixed together, quivering, buzzing, the one feeding off the other, all driven by that maddening column of hard flesh he was now pounding into her sweltering, buzzing vulva.
She had been intensely aware of him, his smell, his grunts of enjoyment, his face, mottled with passion, against hers, the rasp of his hairy chest against her erect nipples, the sexy slap-slapping sound as his groin hammered into her hairy mound rhythmically, but this was disappearing into a widening whirlpool of such sexual ecstasy as she could not imagine could exist, her awareness seeming to drain out of the rest of her body, everything dropping, folding, draining into her dripping sex, between her quivering thighs...
She was going out of her mind, she had to scream, speak, say something, but more of her awareness was draining into her vulva, her sex, her little pink love-trench starting to control all of her, dominate her reality, and all she managed was a tiny shriek before his mouth covered hers once more and absorbed the sound.
She started to move faster, gasping with effort, maddened by it all, trying to speed up her thighs and her pelvic thrusts, grabbing his shoulders, butting her furred pink slit up at him, something more than awareness controlling her, as the heat and pressure in her wet pussy built and built she felt more of her control slip away.
At last the “draining” sensation stopped, and there was suddenly almost a dangerous, threatening edge to what she was experiencing, very much like having to --extremely-- urgently pee, but with a different texture somehow. The “draining” was turning to pressure, and each ramming thrust of his hips seemed to be pumping her tighter, inflating her through her sexual opening, raising the awful... pressure she felt, making the urge to explosively urinate worse. She had brief seconds to want to stop it, to try to warn him, she didn't want to... pee on him! And this the first time... but then he did something with his body and the pressure and pleasure suddenly ratcheted up another notch and her complaint died on her lips into another ecstatic feminine grunt of welcome as he slid home inside her cramping love channel for the thousandth time.
She could feel it, like a dam wall, the pressure behind it building and building. He was going faster, harder, some remaining part of her setting off an alarm that he was going to... climax inside her, his breathing accelerating, his thrusting like some wonderful biological... pump, each time he rammed home into her quivering vagina, the pressure rising crazily inside her.
The sense of danger, the roaring electric pressure just built and built, more and more, higher and hotter, taking her to a place she had not dreamed could exist. Her whole pelvis was starting to... glow? Irradiate? She could not put words to it, she could just breathe and grunt and cry and -feel-.
For the first time in her life she could sense her clitoris, feel it's comparatively tiny, rock-hard mini penis-like erection under the cap of flesh where her frantically sliding labia minora met, it was the focus, it was getting harder and becoming hotter every second, expanding, warming, burring... stimulated by the tiny lips dragging on the sides of his frantically pistoning penis-shaft, maddened by his groin slamming repeatedly into the tiny little erect rod.
She could feel his the huge purple plum at the end of his organ butting into her cervix at the apex of each frantic thrust he made with his hips.
“Lisa... Lisa... Lisa... Lisa...”
He was groaning her name with each powerful thrust, drawing a shuddering breath with the “Li” as he drew his penis almost out of her, and then expelling it in a gusty sigh for the “sa” each time he stabbed it down into her dripping little gash and back into her sweltering, melting-hot vagina.
“Lisa... Lisa... Lisa... LISA... LISA... LISA...”
And still it was merciless, the pleasure and pressure mounting and mounting, the dam wall creaking, weakening, the sense of danger increasing, like dropping backward over a cliff, becoming worse, driven by his pounding thrusts.
Suddenly she felt her clitoris kind of hitch itself up over his madly pistoning shaft, then start to vibrate, strain upward, expand, harden.
“LISA... LISA.... LI..... SAAAAAAAA!” and he threw his head back, his thrusts like a machine gun now, running faster and faster, the bump... bump... bump... against her melting folds turning into bumpbumpbumpbump, horribly... detonating something inside her clitoris and breaking the dam wall just as he too went into his orgasm, helplessly slamming faster and faster and deeper and deeper into her wet, silky heat, completely out of control.
She felt the inferno start at the very tip of her clitoris, its entire shaft spasming, vibrating with a buzzing electric sexual sensation so intense she didn't know whether to scream, laugh or cry as it seared into her pink folds. It stayed there for a few seconds, but he gave a low, wailing groan and rammed his penis in once, twice, a third time, and she -felt- him orgasm, felt it spasm and heave powerfully inside her vulva, and he rammed his penis into her hard a fourth time and a fifth and an agonizing SIXTH time and then he bucked inside her, and he -screamed-, and she felt it, and then a sudden burst of wet heat as his semen started spurting into her and he threw back his head and then he pumped his hot seed deep into her vagina once more in a roiling explosion and the heat and liquid feel of it so deep inside was such sexual and emotional enjoyment she could hardly realize she was feeling it, and the wall around her vulva was gone, and he cried out and she felt him spurt his t