Lighthouse

"Undo my bra, will you?" she breathed. She crossed her arms behind her head and rested her weight on me, and was not able to completely suppress her moan as I slowly unclipped and freed her.

"I am never going to get tired of those," I breathed. "God, Sue, you're beautiful..."

"Even with this?" she said, dropping a hand to trace her scar.

"Even with that," I agreed. "Does it... bother you?"

"Only if it bothers you," she said softly.

"It doesn't. It's part of the you that I love. "

"Then I'm OK too."

I sat up and gathered her closer; she squeaked, then moaned as I found a nipple with my tongue and began to tease it.

"Oh, oh love," she groaned. "Oh, that is always so magical..."

"Just wait till I get to your clit..." I panted.

"Uhn," she agreed, and I laughed softly at the shudder than ran through her. "Did... did you remember to get..."

"Yes," I whispered.

"You'd... better get them then. I'm... burning up..."

"Let me up and I will..."

She grinned down at me, then slipped off my lap. I climbed off her bed and dug in my backpack. "Ta dah," I announced, waving the box.

"Bring one," she said. "And come back here. I need help."

"Help? What kind of help?"

"I need you to undress me," she whispered. She was flushed, grinning up at me as she undulated slowly. "I want you really eager for me..."

"I already am," I laughed.

"Oh? Show me," she said.

So I undid my belt and unbuttoned my jeans and slid them and my underpants down my legs.

"Oh," she moaned. "Oh, you are eager, aren't you..."

I kicked my pants aside. "What do you need?" I whispered to her.

"Undo me. Slowly. Tease me. Taunt me. Make me... ravenous..." she panted. "And bring that... that cock of yours closer so I can fondle it for you..."

She fumbled for me.

"God, you're hard," she whimpered.

"For you," I breathed in answer.

I slowly eased her skin-tight jeans down over her thighs; she amused herself by attempting to distract me with her exploration of various parts of my erect penis.

And she was very distracting.

"Panties?" I groaned.

"Uh huh," she panted. "Get rid of... them. They're soaked...anyway..."

I slid them down, sighing appreciatively as her pale, engorged lips became visible.

"Well," I whispered. "That's a surprising change..."

"I shaved," she moaned. "Absolutely bare. Nothing to hide behind... do you... like it?"

"I love it. Can I... touch you?" I breathed.

She spread her legs, pulling her knees back and opening herself for me. "Touch," she begged. "I'm dying here."

"Can I... taste?" I asked as I put a finger to her.

"Uh... huh..." she whimpered. "I'm... pretty sure I'd... love that..."

And so I shifted, and lowered myself down to her, and touched her with the tip of my tongue.

She grunted, clenched her hands in my hair.

"Oh," she moaned.

I slowly teased my tongue over her clit; she convulsed again.

"Ian," she whispered. "Oh fuck me, Ian, that's magic, that's magic, don't stop..."

"I'm going to put my finger into you," I breathed. "And then I'm going to tongue you until you forget your name."

"I'm... all yours..." she whimpered.

She arched back, fingers digging into my scalp, groaning animalistically as I slowly pushed into her.

"Baby," she panted.

"Mm..."

"Go slow...please...it's so good..."

"Mm..." I agreed, intoxicated by the taste of her. I started to tease my finger in and out, loving the way she shuddered and writhed under me. She reached up, found her breasts and began to pinch and twist her nipples hard as I began to drive my hand in and out of her. She gave little breathy gasps each time I bore down on her; her mouth locked open, head thrown back and eyes screwed shut. I could feel her thigh muscles trembling, and frequent spasms rippled through her belly when I timed a lick to a perfect thrust into her.

"Ian," she whimpered. "Love, that's... I'm..."

I nuzzled against her and sucked gently onto her clit as I tongued her.

She gasped a breath, started to moan, low in her throat.

And then she convulsed, crying out, spasming, clawing at the sheets as her vaginal muscles started to clamp and spasm on my fingers.

Shudders and after-shudders shook her, and I suddenly realised that she was sobbing...

I released her, scrambled upwards, gathered her to me and held her as she shook and shivered against me.

"No," she panted. "Why..."

"I'm sorry..."

"No... why... why....why did you... stop..." she whimpered. "Why, it was... it was so... so...."

"You were..."

"No... don't care, don't worry... just... just put... a finger back in me right now... and hold me... mm... oh... oh God..."

And she cried out as one more rippling spasm rocked her.

She lunged forward, captured me, pulled me hard against her so that she could roughly kiss me.

"Ian," she panted as she broke for air. "Put your cock in me, love, please..."

"Need a condom," I groaned.

"Quickly, quickly," she begged.

I fumbled, tore open the condom wrapper, and she moaned and grumbled at me as I tried to roll it onto myself, nerves and arousal ensuring that I got it the wrong way round at least once.

Then she lost patience.

She pushed at me, pushed me over onto my back and threw her leg over me. She fumbled for me; quickly rolled the remaining latex all the way down me, and positioned me at her entrance.

I moaned as she touched me to the heat of her; she bit her lip to control herself as she rubbed me against her slick, beckoning body.

"Sue," I panted. "Sue, slow down, it's OK..."

"No," she panted. "Not gonna..."

She positioned me.

"Shh," she whispered. "Shh, it's OK love, it's OK, I'm ready for you..."

And then I began to slip into her and she cried out as I entered her, as I filled her for the first time.

"Oh... oh fuck..." she panted. "Oh fuck me Ian, you're big."

She held herself rigid, groaning, and I stared up at her, at the deep furrows of the frown she wore.

"God that's amazing," she grunted. "God that's so amazing... don't move, babe, don't... uhn... move..."

She moved slowly forwards on me, then drove backwards, gasping. My toes curled and I groaned, lifting instinctively to bury myself deeper in her.

"Oh fuck," she panted. "Oh fuck that's deep. That's so deep...touch my breasts," she begged. "Play with me. Warm me like you always... mm.... do..."

I fumbled at her, captured her nipples, rolled them slowly between my fingers as I lifted my knees to get myself deeper into her. She began to move slowly back and forward on me, eyes still squeezed tightly shut, mouth agape...

I glanced down, then shuddered as I stared at her crotch, at the way my aching, latex-sheathed cock disappeared and reappeared between her lips.

"Fuck that's hot," I gasped.

"Staring at my... pussy... are you? Pervert," she groaned. "You like watching that, huh? You like watching your cock in me?"

"So much," I whimpered.

"Am I nice... and tight?"

"So nice," I gasped.

"Oh... oh fuck Ian, you're so good in me...bet you'd love to fill me up, wouldn't you..."

"Uh huhn," I grunted.

"Fill me...uhn.... up with that lovely... load you have for... uhn... me," she gasped.

She arched forward, bit my neck hard enough to leave a mark, and then began to push and grind against me.

"Come in me," she whimpered. "Come in me, come in me, baby, you're so perfect in me..."

I was building fast; her desperate entreaties - panted breathily into my ear - adding sensation on top of indescribable sensation. I was aching; the old tension in my balls and thighs letting me know I was close. She was hot, drum-tight on me, constricting me each time she took me into her.

I felt her spasm; she grunted.

"So... good..." she whimpered. "Love this. Love it so... uhn... much..."

My muscles began to throb, to tense; I began to pant, to shiver and moan at the almost unbearable ecstasy as she drove herself down on me...

I put my hands on her hips.

I was close... so achingly close... so hard, so tight, a knot of need at the knife's edge of bursting...

She began to let out little gasping whimpers... and they were what pushed me over the edge.

I thrust up against her, lifting both of us up as I forced myself deep into her. She cried out, digging her nails into my chest as I pulsed and shivered and throbbed deep inside her wonderful body, holding her hard against me as I clamped her sweat-slicked thighs against me. She rolled forward onto me and began to writhe; driving me in and out of her. I cried out, wriggled, flailed at her, but she held me between her thighs and rode me hard, moaning each time I bottomed out in her, and even as my own intense orgasm finally started to ebb I felt her legs lock against me.

She convulsed. She buried her face in my neck, the only sound she made a succession of strangled, agonised, mewling whimpers as her entire body clamped and released rhythmically on me...

And, achingly slowly, slowed...

She went limp by degrees, slumping slowly down until she was prone on top of me, my still-hard cock still in her. I shifted my arms upwards, wrapped her in them, and cradled her against me.

She made a small noise, settled herself slightly more.

At length I softened and slipped out; she shivered once but said nothing, merely tightened her grip on me.

And neither of us seemed in any great hurry to move.

"Are you OK?" I breathed, eventually.

She made a soft noise, shifted slightly.

"I'm glowing," she whispered. "I am incandescent. I... I've never come from intercourse before. It was... it was really special, Ian. It was really special to have that with a man I love... oh my God, thank you for that..."

I gathered her in tighter against me.

"Give me a bit, and I'll do it again," I breathed as I slowly stroked her back.

And she sighed, content.

.:.

She unfolded like a butterfly hatching from her chrysalis. She stopped tensing up when I moved too quickly, and no longer flinched or panicked when I accidentally woke her at night.

She began to clumsily tease me. She'd send me flirty texts, taunt me with come-hither looks before we swam, give me little teasing touches in passing that she knew would make me want her more...

Every gentle sexual encounter tore a layer of hurt away. Every time I held her close and took only what she offered made me safer to her.

I watched her closely, found the little things she loved having done for her - the candles on the table for dinner, the spooning on our lazy Sunday mornings. Breakfast in bed as often as she'd let me...

Tiny things that nobody had ever done for her before.

And one day her artless gratitude for something almost trivially small broke me so badly that I couldn't hold back the tears.

And the fact that I could cry - for her - seemed to shock her to the roots of her soul, because she crawled into my lap and cried with me and simply refused to let go.

As our days together became weeks together and our weeks together became months, her relationship with sex changed too.

Gone was her fear of not being good enough. She no longer frantically chased approval and praise. She stopped offering to degrade herself out of a desperate fear that she wasn't satisfying me.

Lovemaking often became a slow game of degrees rather than a frantic sprint for the line.

And one glorious winter night I gave her multiple orgasms just with my tongue before we discovered just how much we both enjoyed it when I came deep inside her.

And we experimented.

She very quickly worked out that a miniskirt, knee-high socks and nothing else rendered me incapable of anything but the desire to be in her. And I, meanwhile, worked out that shoulder massages turned her into a fiend; she'd reach a point where desire overrode all her restraints and she'd simply clamber onto me and force me to make love to her.

We made love in her car, in my car, on a picnic blanket at the beach with the stars spread out above us, and once, scandalously, I pushed her up against a wall in the swimming pool's equipment room, nudged the crotch of her costume aside, and (despite her frantic protests that we'd be caught) fingered her to a frenetic, muted, squirming orgasm in the scant sixty seconds we had between two of my classes.

(She never let me do that again, though she'd quite happily admit that it was one of the best orgasms she'd ever had)

I'd never been so happy. I went to sleep beside her every night, and was woken by butterfly kisses every morning.

And some nights I'd lie awake for hours, watching her face, listening to her breathing, wishing that time would slow so that dawn would come slow.

Six months came and went in the blink of an eye, and in early spring we moved in together, pooling our salaries to rent a third floor apartment with the view of the sea she'd longed for since she was a child.

She spent an hour that first evening, sitting outside, simply staring out at the setting sun on the distant water.

And when she came inside she once more wrapped her arms around me and refused to let go.

She was happy. She'd sing snatches of popular tunes while showering. She'd amuse herself by teaching me to cook things she enjoyed eating.

And she'd fuck me senseless every chance she got.

But it wasn't enough for me.

I wanted more for her.

She deserved more.

.:.

"Venice," I said to her, not to long after we'd moved in together.

"What about it?" she said as she distractedly tried to tame her sex-hair. Her cheeks were still flushed with afterglow; her body a waking dream in the gentle evening shadows.

"Venice. I want to go to Venice with you."

She paused.

"You always said you wanted to go."

"I did. I... do."

"So?"

She shrugged, didn't look at me.

"Sue?"

"I... can't."

"Why on earth not?"

"I don't have a passport. And... I... probably can't get the leave. Work's busy. They'll never sign it off. It's... likely not worth it, anyway. It will be far too expensive and we need to watch our money. It's fine, Ian. We can go... somewhere else. Maybe the lakes. Or we could go... camping somewhere..." she finished in a whisper.

"You're inventing reasons, aren't you?"

She went quiet, then sighed.

"Sue?"

"Other people have promised to... to take me there. Before."

"And?"

"I..."

She swallowed, looked up at me. "I just don't want to hope. I don't want to be disappointed. That's... all."

"I'll make you a deal," I said softly.

"What kind of... deal?"

"How about we apply for your passport. And if that comes, we pick some dates and we apply for the leave. And if we both get it we look for cheap flights. And if they're affordable we buy the tickets and look for accommodation. And if that's reasonable we book it. And if we still want to go after all that..."

"It's a waste of time, Ian..."

"Do it... for me. Please."

"OK," she said softly, after a long silence. "I'll... apply."

And so I helped her with the forms, and mailed them off for her, and pretended not to notice the way she'd check the mailbox every morning and every evening. I did my research, checked travel sites and guide books, and narrowed down our accommodation choices to a short list that I knew she'd like.

Her passport arrived at last, and I watched, trying not to grin as she opened the envelope with shaking hands and cradled the enclosed document as if it were a fragment of the True Cross.

I nagged her until she'd applied for leave, and booked mine knowing in my heart that Fate was with me.

I booked the flights as my own personal act of faith, and pretended to discover my pre-vetted shortlist one windy evening when she came home with sparkling eyes and a mile-wide grin to let me know that her leave was approved.

We bought a wall calendar, and opened it to May, and highlighted our leave in loud slashes of pink day-glo marker.

I could see how scared she was to admit to the hope that was building in her, the way she held back, terrified that a shoe would drop and break her heart again.

She became fractious, prone to outbursts born of fear and frustration with herself and me and the world. I submitted to her in everything, humbly took what abuse came my way, and accepted with magnanimity her lengthy, frantic, tearful apologies and tender kisses when she'd calmed down after her explosions. I played the part of caring boyfriend and understanding lover; dialled up my patience and gentleness and became adept at simply letting small things go.

Because I knew that it was all a by-product of her darkness.

I knew she didn't believe it would happen.

Too many things had gone wrong, too much evil had touched her for her to ever believe she had a right to dream.

She viewed me as the one good thing that she was entitled to, a beacon by which everything else was balanced and kept at bay.

I refused, refused to let that stand. I refused to let her settle for anything less than what she deserved.

I would not let her dreams be kept back from her any more.

.:.

She was pale and distant as we negotiated the security checks at London Luton Airport. She sat, ill-at-ease, answering monosyllabicaly, as we waited for our gate to open. She walked, pressed tight up against me, as we negotiated the jet way and boarded our Airbus. And she clutched my hand like a vise and shot me a terrified look as the engines spooled up to take-off power.

I almost felt guilty.

Almost.

But not quite.

Because barely four hours later we were surrounded by the Venetian dusk and she was wide-eyed as a child at Christmas, staring open-mouthed around us at the people, the lights, the water... and at me.

We walked the darkening streets, picked a cafe at random for supper, and held hands as we watched the waxing moon rise slowly over the Basilica di Santa Maria.

I gave her time to breathe. I let her find her feet, adjust to the strangeness of her dream-come-true.

I didn't mention the tears I saw her wipe away more than once; there was no point.

I could see from the smile how full with joy her heart was.

"I love you, Ian," she said softly, at last. "Don't ever let me go."

"I want to spend the rest of my life with you," I answered.

She turned to me and leaned in against me, one hand gently covering my heart.

"I think I'd like that," she breathed.

"Well then," I said. "I guess that means you're stuck with me."

And I smiled, and kissed her forehead, and pulled close.

"Come," she said, at last. "I'm... tired. Tomorrow is going to be a busy day for us. I've got lots of this dream that I want... that I need... to make real. With you."

So I took her hand, and kissed her.

And I let her lead me home.