safe.
His eyes settle on her face. He looked at her for a long moment. "Do you want this?" he asked, huskily and afraid of her answer.
She nodded.
"You have to say it. I want this. I will not regret this." he said. "I mean it. I want this. I will not regret this."
She had trouble finding her voice, it was probably impossible for her color to rise any more than it already had, but she felt a renewed flush fill her face, she said it with her eyes closed, embarrassed to see the look on his face, her voice a little rough and quiet, "I want this. George, I will not regret this."
He let out a breath he had been holding. Leaning over her he took her small face in his great hands. "Ramona," he said, kissing her temple, her cheeks, forehead, nose, even her chin, "Ramona," he slid his rough lips over her soft ones. She clinched her hands into little fists. Elements of that first kiss in the arbor, and then something much stronger, an entitlement, a lack of hesitation, an assurance that they need not rush, a slow and lingering kiss, the strange wetness of it, warm and tasty and suddenly gasping for air as he pulled away and she realized she had been holding her breath.
Searching and fumbling with her thin white cotton nightdress, he pulled it over her head and drank in the sudden first sight of her body in the dimly lit room. Soft and feminine lines against his white sheets, a pink blush across her chest, arms, and thighs. She felt like her body was humming. Anticipating his touch and feeling an unexpected expectant excitement mounting as it was delayed by his survey.
The first thing he touched was her thighs. The hairs stood up somewhat electrically. He just barely touched her, and she felt her muscles tighten, the urge to to squirm closer and away from him at the same time.
His colossal member stood at attention. She wondered at its ability to gain entrance to her small, unconquered frame. He moved up again to kiss her and she felt the genital beast move against her like it had a mind of its own. The hot and tingly moistness in her woman's place felt suddenly achy, and just as she grabbed at the sheets in a strange frustration, one of his fingers found its shocking way to the mess of curls between her legs. Her thighs tensed up.
"Egads," she said aloud, pinching her eyes closed, suddenly embarrassed at how remarkably wet she felt, as his finger moved gently through the hair and found the slit that led to her most private of places. His fingers moved gently, against her anatomy, paying special attention to a particular nubbin that hummed with such exquisite pleasure she could not contain herself. Just as the pleasure mounted and her back arched, he moved away. She felt herself relax back on the pillows. The feeling subsided somewhat and her breathing, haggard, slowly became more regular.
His face inches above hers, slowly moved out of sight and she jumped as his lips embraced, first, her left nipple, in a kiss not unlike the one he had placed on her lips, then hot and moist, lower and lower until he found his way to her magical pocket of pleasures, his mouth opened upon her and she felt the desire to protest, until his tongue began to mimic the actions his fingers had so recently taken. Breathless she found her body moving against him of its own volition. She could not help but make tiny little agonizing gasps. In a moment both his fingers and mouth were humming against her hummy anatomy, his fingers, slipped inside, moving in wide circles, a sort of tight discomfort, just as the pressure upon her nubbin became too much and she arched against it, her body shaking uncontrollably, her voice escaping from her mouth in surprising gasps and strange little noises, her woman’s place exploding with sensations she had never felt before.
He moved back over her, his breathing somewhat rough, he leaned up and watched her breathlessly gasping form as he grasped his member in his right
His eyes settle on her face. He looked at her for a long moment. "Do you want this?" he asked, huskily and afraid of her answer.
She nodded.
"You have to say it. I want this. I will not regret this." he said. "I mean it. I want this. I will not regret this."
She had trouble finding her voice, it was probably impossible for her color to rise any more than it already had, but she felt a renewed flush fill her face, she said it with her eyes closed, embarrassed to see the look on his face, her voice a little rough and quiet, "I want this. George, I will not regret this."
He let out a breath he had been holding. Leaning over her he took her small face in his great hands. "Ramona," he said, kissing her temple, her cheeks, forehead, nose, even her chin, "Ramona," he slid his rough lips over her soft ones. She clinched her hands into little fists. Elements of that first kiss in the arbor, and then something much stronger, an entitlement, a lack of hesitation, an assurance that they need not rush, a slow and lingering kiss, the strange wetness of it, warm and tasty and suddenly gasping for air as he pulled away and she realized she had been holding her breath.
Searching and fumbling with her thin white cotton nightdress, he pulled it over her head and drank in the sudden first sight of her body in the dimly lit room. Soft and feminine lines against his white sheets, a pink blush across her chest, arms, and thighs. She felt like her body was humming. Anticipating his touch and feeling an unexpected expectant excitement mounting as it was delayed by his survey.
The first thing he touched was her thighs. The hairs stood up somewhat electrically. He just barely touched her, and she felt her muscles tighten, the urge to to squirm closer and away from him at the same time.
His colossal member stood at attention. She wondered at its ability to gain entrance to her small, unconquered frame. He moved up again to kiss her and she felt the genital beast move against her like it had a mind of its own. The hot and tingly moistness in her woman's place felt suddenly achy, and just as she grabbed at the sheets in a strange frustration, one of his fingers found its shocking way to the mess of curls between her legs. Her thighs tensed up.
"Egads," she said aloud, pinching her eyes closed, suddenly embarrassed at how remarkably wet she felt, as his finger moved gently through the hair and found the slit that led to her most private of places. His fingers moved gently, against her anatomy, paying special attention to a particular nubbin that hummed with such exquisite pleasure she could not contain herself. Just as the pleasure mounted and her back arched, he moved away. She felt herself relax back on the pillows. The feeling subsided somewhat and her breathing, haggard, slowly became more regular.
His face inches above hers, slowly moved out of sight and she jumped as his lips embraced, first, her left nipple, in a kiss not unlike the one he had placed on her lips, then hot and moist, lower and lower until he found his way to her magical pocket of pleasures, his mouth opened upon her and she felt the desire to protest, until his tongue began to mimic the actions his fingers had so recently taken. Breathless she found her body moving against him of its own volition. She could not help but make tiny little agonizing gasps. In a moment both his fingers and mouth were humming against her hummy anatomy, his fingers, slipped inside, moving in wide circles, a sort of tight discomfort, just as the pressure upon her nubbin became too much and she arched against it, her body shaking uncontrollably, her voice escaping from her mouth in surprising gasps and strange little noises, her woman’s place exploding with sensations she had never felt before.
He moved back over her, his breathing somewhat rough, he leaned up and watched her breathlessly gasping form as he grasped his member in his right
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