A Couple Pt. 01

The alarm went off, but it took hard slaps on my rump, and bringing me a cold soda, to get me moving. She said, "A walk first, sex later, maybe. You don't look very able right now. She kissed me and pinched my tiny nipple.

"When I'm alive again, I'll get you for that."

We asked the neighbor about the boat. She went around the corner and showed us a boat house down at the water's edge. "In there, it is the one with blue trim on the gunwale. My son will be home from university tomorrow. If the weather is nice, would you like him to show you a bit about sailing it?"

Natalie accepted the offer and thanked her warmly.

The boat looked to be about sixteen feet, with a self-supporting mast and rolled up sail. If the wind stayed light, we could have a nice picnic outing.

The neighbor had mentioned there was a path along the water, on private lands, but considered public and not to be abused. No trash, no loud noise, no bathing without permission, etc. We set off in the less traveled direction. I was bemused by our role reversal. Natalie was lively and talkative. I was lethargic and dull. I apologized for being poor company. She said I had two days to come around before she started beating me and getting out the bondage book. I said I was going to stop in the village tomorrow and get some line suitable for the elaborate knots it would take to properly tie her up. She asked why it was that in the sex stories, the women were always the ones being tied up. I paused and said it was history, evolution and a search for protection from strong males.

We came around a bend in the trail and found a fleet of a dozen dinghies racing in the next bay. Natalie made me lie in the warm grass so she could put her head on my chest and talk to me.

"Something's got me all hyped up. I feel like a little kid again, racing through olive groves with you and the others. I had feelings for you then. Not puberty feelings, friendship feelings. You were one of the boys, but you didn't tease us girls and you did neat things like bring me flowers when you had been out on a walk."

She turned over and kissed me. "We'd better come out of this with something tieing us together or I'm going to be upset. Very upset."

After a silence, she said, "My mother was a holy terror when she was upset. She shouted at the top of her voice. She threw things. She refused to cook. She would storm out of the house, jump in her car and disappear for hours. We kids locked ourselves in one room and waited it out. Dad mostly didn't come home for a couple of days."

"What happened next?"

"It was like a big windstorm blowing through. In the morning, the sky was blue and the skies were calm. She made breakfast, hugged and kissed us and said she was sorry. When Dad came home, they went upstairs and said not to disturb them."

"So when we have our first big fight, and you've shouted and thrown things and finally calmed down and I come home and take you to bed, you are going to scream bloody murder when you come?"

She kissed me, harder. My fingers were rubbing between her legs in an inconspicuous way.

"Something like that. Like mother, like daughter. Maybe that's part of our problem, I've never thrown a tantrum like most women in relationships do."

"I think that beautiful cottage with the nice neighbors is not a tantrum location. Poor Inge would hear about it for years."

"Yes. Years."

My fingers were still busy and now very wet.

"Maybe I should have found us a more remote place. Somewhere we could just take our clothes off and have a good screw in the warm sun."

"The grass is always..."

She was up and striding along the path.

We were just inside the door, in front of the hall mirror and she was undressing. When she got down to panties, I seized her from behind around the waist and massaged her fine high tits.

"You like those, don't you?" Her eyes stared at mine in the mirror.

"I always have. They are magnificent."

"That's what we are here to talk about, isn't it?" She pushed her behind into my crotch. Her hand reached back and grabbed my hard cock. "This seems to be over jet lag."

"Let's find out."

She didn't have jet lag and was feeling feisty. Squeezing me, taunting my manhood, rolling us back and forth on the bed.

After a few minutes, she was very wet and I simply pulled her onto me from behind. One thing I have always liked about Natalie is that she knows when to stop playing and start fucking. I drove hard all the way to the end of her channel. She jerked away, telling me silently to not hurt her cervix by pounding too hard. The foreplay in the meadow had her very hot. My thrusting was producing small noises. Not quite squeeks, not quite groans, sort of 'that's nice' noises.

In a moment of weakness, Natalie had said to me that one big reason why she treasured our relationship was that I made a point of waiting for her orgasm. Especially since sometimes she was fast and sometimes she was slow and was seldom aware in advance what kind of a loving we were going to have. She kidded me, "How can you put up with a cunt that doesn't know what it is doing!"

After she made this confession, I played more games with her. If she was talkative and nothing was happening down below, I would flip us over and tell her that if she was going to come, it was on her own power. She liked riding me from the top, but would complain, "Sir, you rescue me from shipwreck and then expect me to paddle us all the way home?"

The first time she tried that line, I gave her three good thrusts from underneath and she was coming with a scream and cursing me. And hugging, kissing and snuggling afterwards, whispering about great sex.

This afternoon, in the paneled bedroom in Inge's house, she was energetic, building up to a good climax. My fingers were beating a tattoo on her clit, when they weren't twisting her generous nipples, and my cock was urging her on with ever more rapid thrusts.

I leaned forward and got her neck muscle in my teeth and bit hard. At home, I would get grief for marking her. Here, I was planning lots of marks in lots of places.

The bite sent her over the top with a rush of bad words and a series of shudders and gasps.

I fell away, happy not to have come. She would want more, and saving me for later was fine.

Her hand turned my face to her and I got a gentle wet kiss. "If you keep doing that to me, we will never go back home."

I stared at her flushed, happy face. We connected emotionally, as all lovers must, but it was a strange connection. Not one of those infatuated exchanges of total passion, love and commitment. More like both of us, from an out of body place, were willing ourselves to surrender to a mutual attraction and preserve that special quality that good sex gave us. Perhaps deluding each other that we could bottle and save it for a rainy day.

I asked, "Will we know when it is time to talk about what brought us here?"

While she thought about that, I fetched a towel from the bath, wiped myself, and stuffed it between her legs.

"Bring me a drink."

There was a bottle of bourbon in my bag and I poured us each an inch or so in a short glass. "Ice or not?"

"One ice cube."

I sat against the headboard and moved her between my legs, resting her head on my thigh.

The sex and the bourbon made me instantly drowsy. I looked down and Natalie had her eyes closed. I said nothing and waited to see if it was nap or talk.

My eyes were closed and I was slipping away when she said, "We have to find a way to get better connected."

Hmmm. Thoughts about connecting in both of our minds. I waited for her to continue. She whispered, "You've fallen asleep on me, haven't you? Poor jetlagged man."

I reached fingers cold from the glass down and tweaked the rosy nipple in front of me.

She rolled over and smiled, "So my tits were warring with your sleepiness and the tits won!"

I rearranged us so her legs were between mine and she was snuggled against my chest where I could kiss the side of her face, and with a stretch, her tits.

I took a sip of bourbon and said, "Your tits have never lost a fight with me."

We played kissy-face for a while, letting the future of us marinate in the bourbon and the sticky warmth of our crotches.

Keeping a light tone, I said, "You are saying we need to find a way to bind us together with more than genitals?"

"Yes, but do you suppose you could stop sounding so pleased about what your big cock does to me?" She reached down and squeezed my limpness. "It's no wonder males have such performance anxiety. You go from being ready to being useless so quickly."

I thought to myself about all the females who weren't ready ever and shifted the conversation.

"We need to talk about what we want beyond great sex and good conversation. And does that something screw up what we have now?"

She moved away, got on her side with her head in her hand and smiled, "Why don't you forget the verbal gymnastics and just propose to me?"

Oh god, how is it that women are better than men at calling one's bluff?

I rolled over her and off the bed, so that I was on my knees with my torso over her deliciously naked body. I leaned down and took a mouthful of her ass and worked it over, licking, kissing, biting.

"You are trying to distract me." She turned over so that her pussy occupied the space where her butt had been. She pulled the towel out and tossed it away. The far knee came up and out. It seemed that the message was, if you want all the glorious sex to continue, marry me.

This time, my lips engulfed the tiny prominence of her clitoris and my tongue gently circled it. My hand, coming from under her leg, spread her outer lips and my tongue worked up and down the pink flesh.

She held herself absolutely still, although I could see stress ripples working across her abdomen.

"You are not only distracting, you are devious. You are going to make me come so you can extract concessions."

"Before I marry you or after?" We stared humorously at each other.

I asked, "Why haven't we ever talked about marriage before? Scared of what the other would say?"

Before she could respond, I added, "I will marry you whenever and wherever you wish."

She kept staring at me silently, with a gentle smile.

She asked, "What about all those vows?"

"We'll write our own ceremony, and only put in vows that aren't lies."

She blinked at me and tears ran down her cheeks. I licked them off.

"I've never told you I loved you, but I do. I just don't know what love is."

"Get up here and hold me."

She lay half on me, with a blanket over us, and cried.

I held her to me, kissed her forehead, and made soothing noises.

She mumbled in my ear, "Oscar, we can't make this complicated, we just can't." She cried some more.

"You're right. That's why we have been the way we are. Complications would kill us."

She sat up and grasped my hand in hers. "So, like the kids say, we are all fucked up. We're uncomfortable with the way we are, and we're scared to change it."

She stood up. "Let's see if we fit in the shower together."

As we toweled off, she said, in a strong scientist voice, "I've made a decision. We are not going to talk about us for twenty-four hours, maybe more." She used her towel on my butt.

I got behind her and took a firm grip on one lovely breast. "But honey, I got down on my knees and proposed!" I chewed on her ear, and kneaded the boob.

A new voice, girlish, answered back, "Oscar, we're still in school, what will my mama say?"

I kissed her and went to see about a dinner reservation.

We walked down the lane toward the restaurant, holding hands again and leaning in for a kiss now and then. I pondered the circular logic of the last hour. Ask him why he hasn't proposed, and when he does, tell him your mama won't let you. And cry a little in between.

I was in the middle of asking myself why I wasn't more upset when I realized the obvious answer, we are fools in love. I repeated that silently and heaved a great sigh of relief. And kissed her again.

We had a wonderful dinner and wonderful conversation about a whole range of things having nothing to do with us. She had on a summer dress that looked Scandinavian, and there wasn't another woman in the room who was as pretty and happy as she was. I thought to myself that there should be a ring on her finger. Oh, you fool.

I set the alarm for seven local time. When it went off, we lay there, groggy from the nine hour time change. "Espresso before a walk, or after?"

Her arm snaked over my hip and grabbed my usual hardness. "I'm trying to decide whether I need this now or later?"

"You called him useless last night."

"You misheard me. What I meant to say was not totally useless." She climbed out of bed and pulled the nightie over her head. Her smile said all she had was on offer. She watched me lying there with my prick rising up. She did a pirouette and wiggled her taut ass at me.

I got up beside her and pushed him firmly through thighs and out the other side. She juiced immediately. I withdrew and went to the bathroom. If she wanted sex, she had to ask for it.

I was still peeing when she pressed her naked front against my back and grabbed me. The stream was already missing the bowl when she twisted around and sprayed herself with me.

"Hmmm. I've wanted to do that for ages. It's warm and smelly. Makes me horny."

Her fingers stroked me to hardness. I ignored the mess she had made on the tile floor and pushed her against the sink counter. She was staring at me in the mirror as I spread her legs and found a ready entrance.

"That's better. You didn't get off yesterday, so I expect a full treatment this morning."

I thrust and she squeezed. Her chest, my long time object of affection, was flushing and her tits were firm and engorged. The passion between us was at a new level. Almost without my realizing it, she came. There's something about how an orgasmic woman's vagina clamps down when she comes that sends me over the top. But I was in a teasing mood after the frustrations of yesterday and continued my rhythm.

"Are there more of those? He's not there yet."

She smiled at me. "I saved up. Of course there are more."

"Show me. Cum right now." I moved hard into her.

She closed her eyes and there it was. A panting, shaking, full body orgasm. And it got me. Suddenly. Without any conscious thought on my part. My cock was totally expanded in that perfect place and shooting giant spurts into her.

I lay my head on her shoulder and held a breast in each hand, panting myself.

I licked her ear and asked, "What would mama say?"

"My mother only got horny once in a while, just like she only got upset once in a while. But when she wanted sex, she ran my dad ragged. She would come to breakfast in a short nightgown and dare him to take her right there in the kitchen."

She went on, "It was good sex education, I guess. When I was eighteen and had a grown up body, I was very curious about the details of sex. I used to arrange to be hidden somewhere when she got going. She would hug him and kiss him and start undoing his zipper. He would call her a slut and a whore and shove her up against the wall. She would call him a rapist and a brute. He would drop his trousers and his shorts and just go at her. After a minute, she would stop cursing and start moaning and writhing around on the end of his big cock like a hooked fish. Then they would scream and hug and come and whisper how much they loved each other. The first time I ever masturbated was watching them fuck. After that, I came every time they did.

She turned around as I dropped out of her and kissed me passionately. "You haven't called me a slut and a whore. At least not yet."

"Did my piss running down your front incite you to violence?"

"I will inflict violence on you when that fine cock stops getting me off when I need it."

We were back at the same restaurant again, sipping espressos, and clasping hands.

I kissed her hand and said, "I can't decide whether this is the best of times or the worst of times."

She grimaced at me. "Can't you do better than voice Victorian cliches at me?"

"Would the owner be scandalized if you came around and sat in my lap?"

She did as I asked without looking around. There were very few people in the room.

"I'm too big for this. In the Victorian novels, the femme fatale always is diminutive and tucked under her lover's shoulder."

We kissed anyway and she went back to her place. She had a way of hiding the PhD eyes that was very engaging. They seemed especially soft this morning after our playtime.

"Being so smart, and determined to get good grades, did you date in college?"

"Why do you ask?"

"When I look at you this morning, I don't see the brilliant research scientist, I see a warm, loving passionate woman who attracts me completely."

She blinked and looked at me, her face even softer than before. "My god, Oscar, you're seducing me. My hormones are rushing, I can feel my nipples and my clit tingling, my brain is asking when is he going to do me again." She giggled like a schoolgirl.

I stood, left some notes on the table, took her hand and went out to our walk. She reminded me about the neighbor woman's offer of her son to get us organized for sailing, and we headed to the boathouse.

A tall, blond young man already had the boat in the water. He introduced himself as Lars and we told him our names.

Natalie said, "I'll go get the lunch packed and you can fill me in after we go."

In a few moments, Lars realized I was a competent sailor, so his instruction shifted to handling this boat with low freeboard and largish sail. His English was perfect.

"There is flotation fore and aft, and good life jackets there. The sail can be reefed halfway down. Be careful about jibes, they easily put the rail under and then you will likely be in the water."

I asked about the prevailing wind, tide and currents, rocks shoal enough to threaten us, and a recommended short trip.

As he was finishing his answer, I said, "You have near perfect American English. Have you spent time in the States?"

"I was with my cousins in Minnesota for junior year. School wasn't very hard, so I had time for sports."

As she came walking up, I said, "Do you know the slang about main squeeze? Natalie is my main squeeze. We have ten days vacation together for the first time."

He smiled engagingly at her and said, "That's a very pretty dress, but if he tips it over, you won't be happy. What about a swimsuit and sweats?"

She laughed and said, "Lars, you are absolutely right. He can't be trusted not to get me wet. I'll be right back."

He looked at me inquiringly, "You don't mind me saying that?"

I looked at him, "Not a bit, it will make it easier for me to get her on my chest and do naughty things."

We both laughed and I asked if he had a girlfriend.

"She's in Stockholm taking courses in university summer school. I have to run around doing chores to get money for the ferry ticket!"

"You've been very kind to us about the boat. Would you let me contribute an extra ticket?"

His smile was a mile wide. He named a number and I put some bills in his hand. "Tell her this American guy and his girl wanted you two to be together."

There was an onshore breeze and we went away at a good clip on a close reach. I gave Natalie the main sheet to handle and she looked surprised and a little nervous.

"If I do the wrong thing, will we tip over?"

"Yes, of course. You learned in physics about actions and reactions?"

"If you scare me, we are going back." The eyes were not loving.

I took the sheet and got her comfortable on a cushion in the cockpit. She had an elegant white hat that made us look a pretty picture out on the water in our small sailboat.