Sensualist

On returning home around four, I went to my room and hopefully went to the peephole. Miss Ginger had removed the picture! She was giving me permission to watch her as she dressed, or touched herself seeking pleasure. I was ecstatic with lust.

I contented myself with watching as she performed the most mundane tasks, not caring that she was painstakingly painting her nails, or spending a seemingly endless amount of time trying to choose a blouse to wear that evening.

Normally I might have screamed out my frustration, but I was content to let her take all the time she wanted without once thinking that she was deliberately doing these things to cause me agonizing frustrations. Even when she plopped herself down on the bed, legs slightly apart, but fully dressed and revealing next to nothing in an erotic way, I took it well.

Further, I refrained from masturbating in hope that I would need that seed later on.

I maintained my place at the peephole until hearing the dinner bell, then checked my appearance in the mirror, and satisfied that I looked my best, took the stairs two at a time.

After dinner, I was suddenly besieged with birthday presents, accompanied by hugs from my mother and sisters and even Miss Ginger gave me a light hug, with a nervous look on her face, hoping that I wouldn't grab her in front of everyone else.

I knew better, of course I did. But that was only the beginning of my belated birthday. It seemed that mother had insisted on delaying my party for two reasons. First, my sister, Maureen couldn't come home until today, and then, after blowing out the eighteen candles on the chocolate layer cake, and accepting presents from my sisters and Miss Ginger, Mother handed me a small box, on opening it I found the keys to a new sports car.

Of course this called for a major celebration and a quick ride to town was settled on with everyone squeezing into the car.

My sister Maureen, home for the weekend, sat next to me and managed to keep her breast pressed against my arm for most of the ride.

I almost lost control of the car at the first sharp curve, but recovered and settled down to concentrate on my driving. But I had to wonder if it was on purpose, decided it was just the close quarters and ignored it---well, tried to ignore it for the remainder of the ride. Still, it did affect me in the usual manner an eighteen year-old is affected by prolonged contact with a girl's breast.

We had ice cream at the Mayberry Restaurant before heading back to the house. This time my sister again managed to work her breast into my right arm even as I attempted to avoid it.

There was a message there, but at the time I was thinking about Miss Ginger and her 'memorable' present, and didn't give it the consideration it deserved.

On returning to the house, I opened my other presents: A very nice sports jacket from Ashley. Four tickets to a Broadway show in New York City from Maureen, and a book of poetry from Miss Ginger, who managed to whisper, "More later," when I went to thank her.

Although she was considered a member of the family by now, Miss Ginger excused herself around nine and I spent the next hour and a half listening to Maureen regale us with stories about her first semester at Vassar.

At ten-thirty, I yawned and told everyone it had been a long day, especially having gotten lost in the woods, and I went to my room. I removed most of my clothing before returning to the peephole in the wall. Fixing an eye to the tiny portal, I was stunned to see Miss Ginger naked on her bed; her legs were parted---no they were spread widely apart---providing me with a head-on view of her cunt.

I lost my balance on the bed and bumped my head against the wall.

"Can you hear me, Donald?" Miss Ginger said coolly.

I couldn't find my voice.

"Can you hear me, Donald?" she said again.

"Yes," I replied weakly.

"Put a robe on and come to my room and get your present."

I will state that it was very difficult for me to take my eye from the peep-hole. A thousand or more thoughts raced through my head. She knows I can see her through the peep-hole. What's going to happen when I go?

"Donald!" she said in a more commanding tone,

"Are you coming?"

"Yes, Miss Ginger," I managed.

"Then get over here ... NOW!"

In my haste to obey, I forgot the robe and tore out of my room and into hers.

"Did you remember to close your door, Donald?"

I hadn't, and hurried back to do so.

"You also forgot the robe, you're standing in my room in your underwear," she said accusingly, apparently forgetting that she was nude before me as she lay on the bed.

I started back to my room, but she stopped me by holding a hand up.

"Forget the robe. Come over here by me," she said and got up from the bed.

I was embarrassed, but my erection wasn't the least bit ashamed about standing up and out. Miss Ginger stood in the middle of the room waiting.

My eyes hungrily roamed over her large rounded breasts, her narrow waist, and full behind. She gestured for me to sit in the armchair across from her bed. Yes, the same chair in which I'd watched her masturbate and suck her teats.

I sat down and remained still as if made of stone. She moved next to me, totally nude and sat on the arm of the chair and asked: "Wouldn't you like to touch me, Donald?" I was still absorbing things despite my nervousness. There was a distinct quaver in her voice. Was she as nervous as me?

Without answering, I reached out tentatively and touched the closest breast, only to have her pull me face first into the cleavage between them.

"You've admired them for so long now, Donald ... it's time you touched them. I want you to kiss them---I want you to suck them---I want you to bite them!"

I was frozen for a moment, for each was more than just a handful, and they appeared to be so luscious and dense to my young eyes. I started by nuzzling them; making sure neither one was neglected. I licked and sucked her nipples until they were a deep dusky rose color and hard as the pebbles they so resembled.

Miss Ginger was gasping for breath; I abandoned the teat I held to give her a gratuitous, yet voracious kiss.

She whimpered low in her throat and sucked in my invading tongue. Her pelvis, held down by my hand, was making little involuntary thrusts. When I came up for air, I saw how wide her nostrils had gotten and almost missed hearing her say that she couldn't believe the local girls hadn't grabbed me already.

"You are a real prize, Donald. You are a man who will know how to make a woman happy."

I know I must have said something stupid, like, "I am?" for Miss Ginger sighed and basically slapped a teat into my open mouth, only to have it slip away because I hadn't expected it.

Sighing with frustration, she muttered "Once a teacher, always a teacher," and then addressing me in her formal tutoring voice said, "Kiss me, here, Donald," and tapped herself between her breasts, to signify exactly where she wanted me to go.

I could certainly follow instructions as vivid as those, and did.

"Yes! Yes! That's good, Donald! Now, just the nipples!"

Her nipples felt firm, yet spongy and hot between my fingers.

"Ahhh...twist them. Gently... yesssss ... back and forth!"

I felt them stiffen.

"Now pull on them!" she said, her voice husky with pleasure. "Yes, oh, yesssss!"

She let herself fall against me, but kept her place on the chair's arm. I leaned into her and gently placed my lips in the space between her full breasts' pausing only to inhale the sweet fragrance of her body before sending my face back into the deep cleft. She smelled like sandalwood, or some exotic spice.

"Now suck on them, softly, like a little baby. That's right... just the nipple. Close your lips around it and pull."

I tasted her and felt the nipple swell between my lips. She let me take more of her into my mouth: I hungrily opened wide and tried to swallow both nipple and areola. I couldn't get enough. I filled my mouth with first one, then the other. Back and forth she guided me between them, with soft words and the gentle touch of her hand.

Her eyes sparkled with joy as I suckled on each lovely breast in turn. I heard her moan. Felt her hand brush over my erection and then slip into the open of my pajamas and touch my rampant cock. It was my turn to moan as her silken fingers clasped my rock hard appendage.

"Oh, Miss Ginger! Oh, Miss Ginger!" I groaned and discharged a copious load of semen onto her wrist and palm.

"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!" I exclaimed, in my chagrin at my unexpected seminal release.

Miss Ginger was already whispering sweet nothings to me, while wiping a line of semen from her wrist. It took a minute or so before I made sense out of what she was saying.

It was a simple mantra: "It's okay, Donnie ... it's okay, Donnie."

Things went smoother for me after that. I continued nursing on her nipple and her hands gripped the hair on my head. Soon my hands were exploring her slender body---from her breasts to her slight shoulders down to her waist. Her body was firm to the touch, yet soft, my fingertips found her skin smooth, silky and warm as they glided over her flesh.

When I released the nipple from my mouth with a soft pop, she swiftly guided me to the other stiffened nip, asking me to "Make little circles around it ... yes, just like that! Now suck me ... lightly, gently."

I appreciated her telling me exactly how to touch her: even though her voice had a hypnotic monotone to it.

"Now pinch them!"

I complied, squeezing the underside of her right breast between thumb and forefinger.

I managed to bring my hand to her thick hair, grasping a handful as she aroused a series of totally new sensations in me. Moving slowly along my upper chest, Miss Ginger left a trail of kisses across my neck and let just the very tip of her tongue graze my ear.

"Jesus!" I gasped, and heard her quiet laughter as a shiver overtook my spine. Then she was licking, sucking, nibbling and blowing against this sensitive area, causing a million or more waves of shivering goosebumps to crawl across my neck.

Instinctively I wrapped my arms around her slender waist. The woman I'd been ogling over for months now was now in my arms, and it had been her doing!

"Oh look at you! You're getting hard again!" she squeaked quietly in a delight I had never heard from her before. And I almost lost my mind when she leaned over and kissed it right on the tip.

Ohh, I'd wanted this. It was difficult to believe it was actually happening. But she WAS squeezing my rock hard cock, I was sure of it. I almost pinched myself to make sure I wasn't dreaming, but then her tongue plunged without hesitation into my mouth I knew it wasn't a dream.

Miss Ginger's vastly more experienced hands (or so I thought at the time) teased my nipples and caused my heart to speed. My tongue began to dance with hers, and for the very first time I tasted a real woman's mouth. We spent several long minutes dueling with our tongues, and then I blurted, "Oh ... oh, Miss Ginger, what must I do to make you happy?".

"Kiss me ..." she croaked hoarsely.

"I thought I ..." I started to protest, but she cut me short, "No, not there ..." and covering her face with one hand, pointed to her hairy cunt, "There ... right there!"

I needed no further inducement. My eyes went right to the small triangular patch of downy hair.

"Have you ever seen a woman's body before?" she asked. "I mean all of it?"

"No," I whimpered, knowing I was about to meet the Holy Grail.

"Then let me show you. Get on your knees." She took my place in the armchair almost lying on her back as I knelt before her. "Push my knees apart, slowly."

I eased her legs apart and watched as her body unfolded before me. Her full thighs parted revealing more of the downy hair, and pushing her knees further apart caused her to unfold even more. I was in no-man's land, or so I thought at the time.

I saw Miss Ginger's outer lips part and reveal the soft bare pinkish flesh as her inner labia just managed to cling together at her center. I looked, captivated by the sight of her. There was more to this than I had imagined, much more.

"Give me your hand," she said and guided me to her soft outer lips.

"Stroke me here first. Softly, go up and down."

She took a deep breath as my fingers grazed through her curly hairs and found the soft swelling mound of flesh beneath, stroking up one side and down the other. I found the tiny crease, where the top of her thigh joined her body and ran my fingers along it, then outward, down the inside of her leg. The sight of her labia still folded together fascinated me.

I saw that they closely resembled the lips on her mouth, but were perpendicular. Hers were curled in what I thought then as an almost vertical smile.

To this day, years later, every time I behold a woman's cunt I'm reminded of Miss Ginger's vertical lips and how they appeared to smile at me as my mouth descended upon it.

At first I couldn't keep my hands away and I let my fingertips graze that soft skin, slowly pushing them from side to side.

"That's nice," Miss Ginger whispered. "Now open me. Be gentle with those big fingers---open me like you would open the wings of a butterfly."

I used both hands to gently separate her lips and exposed tender pink flesh. She took my hand and brought my fingers up to her mouth and sucked on them.

I almost came a second time then and there.

Releasing my hand, she whispered in a husky voice, "Now stroke me. Right down the center. Yes ... just that way. Up and down. As gently as you can."

I looked up to her face. With her eyes closed she looked like a little girl sleeping. I spread the moisture from her entrance across her delicate folds. My finger began to glide more easily up and down as she produced more and more wetness.

"Do you know where a woman's clitoris is?" she asked.

"I think so," I said, and then quickly admitted that I had no idea, though I had a vague notion.

"Do you know where it is?"

"It's just inside you, right?"

"Not really," she laughed. And taking my hand, guided my finger to it. "It's ... right here ... feel it?" I felt a little nub, like a tiny nipple under my finger. "Mmmm, that's it. Now, rub me there, but ever so gently. Spread some of my moisture to it.

I found I was good at following directions, and was rewarded with a sharp intake of her breath and a hissing, "Yesssss!" And then, "Go round and round, but keep touching it in different places. I know it's small, but do try to find different ways and places to touch it."

I did as she asked, and felt it stiffen under my finger. She let out another small gasp. Feeling more comfortable as I grew more familiar with her genitalia, I tried different ways of touching her there and was rewarded with a series of gasps and even sharper intakes of breath on her part.

Her thighs began clenching and unclenching as she moved her pelvis up and down. "I want you to taste me," she said under her breath but with some urgency. "Lick me there!"

I lowered my face between her legs: I could smell the deep fragrance of her body as her sex stood open and glistening in front of me. Bringing my tongue against her, I tasted her: salty, tangy, a musky-damp, like nothing I had ever tasted before or imagined.

Miss Ginger cradled my head in her hands and moved my mouth from cunt to clit and back again.

"Ummm," she groaned happily, then raised herself up from the armchair and told me to grab her. I took it to mean she wanted me to hold her by the ass, and did so.

"Yes, Donald! Now squeeze me hard!"

The moment I did, she began rocking her pelvis against my face. I felt the muscles in her buttocks clenching and unclenching in a rhythm matching my hands squeezing her cheeks.

"Yesssss! Baby, yesssss!" she hissed happily.

"You're soooo good at this!" Then she placed her hands to my temple and moved my head to her clit. "Stay there for a while, my birthday boy. No, don't stop. Keep licking!"

I circled the little bud with my tongue for about a minute, and then felt her muscles tighten. She stopped moving and went rigid. "Just like that. Just like that! YES! Keep doing it just like that!" she croaked in a ragged whisper.

I could hardly breathe but she kept on telling me not to stop; I went on, gasping for what air I could get. At last she let out a long, low wail and lifted my face away from her.

"I'm cumming," she gasped, and clamped her thighs together. Her body writhed and squirmed. With her eyes still closed she reached for me and squeezed my shoulder.

"Come up here, Donald, my love. Kiss me." She pulled my mouth, wet with her juices, to her own and kissed me deeply. Still in the throes of her orgasm, she writhed and I had to hold her tightly to keep my mouth on hers.

I was in thrall of having heard her call me her lover.

When she calmed down, we found ourselves on her bed looking up at the ceiling. A minute went by, and then apparently having a change of heart, or guilt, she tried to push me away, crying out, "No, I can't do it!"

But I expect I'd already gotten past any real objection, for she was quite moist and juicy, and of course, she'd already enjoyed one cum already.

However, I was still naive enough to think she meant what she was saying and started to pull away only to have her pull me back. Now I was belly to belly with her, with my stiffened cock nudging against the entrance to her cunt.

I sighed deeply, "Oh my lovely Miss Ginger, do help me, am I doing something wrong?"

"No, Donald, I'm the one who is wrong ... so wretchedly wrong!"

Instinctively, I resorted to the time honored line no doubt used by millions of men before me and countless after---"But I love you!"

"Oh, God help me!' she all but bleated, and somehow she reached down and guided my prick between the Mona Lisa like smile of her pulsing opening. And suddenly she opened her thighs and canted her hips and there I was sliding into the hot slickness, the all encompassing grip of her vaginal sheath that I had dreamed about ever since I'd learned about what the birds and bees really represented.

Miss Ginger let out an "OHH" of pleasure, and wrapped her arms and legs around me, pulling my cock deeper. The muscles of my back and ass and thighs told me what to do then, and I did it. Her body flexed and thrust back at me and I marveled at the countless sensations reverberating throughout my body, and especially within my prick and testicles.

Her face had that same look of inwardness, of concentration, that I had seen that time I'd watched her masturbate in the armchair. I felt myself readying to cum, tried to hold off, but failed miserably.

I came, pulsing into her in what may have been the best climax I would ever know. Surely I have had others that matched, or ever surpassed this one, but my heart will not allow me to admit it. Miss Ginger was my first and in keeping with that, shall remain the foremost of all my women. ________________________________________

When I could think again, I opened my eyes. Miss Ginger was still moving under me, just a little; her hands were laced lightly behind my neck. Her expression seemed remote. We said nothing; both of us were panting after falling apart, my still hard cock, sticky with our juices, waving between us. I uttered what I would later come to realize was an all too frequent excuse from a man to a woman. "I ... I came to soon, didn't I?"

Miss Ginger stopped moving, uttered a small sigh and opened her eyes. "Don't worry, Donald. I didn't expect anything else. It was your time; I wanted you to enjoy yourself without worrying about me.

"But I thought ..." I began, only to have her interrupt me and say, "Well, if you're that concerned..." she grabbed my right hand and brought it down between her legs. My fingers skidded into slippery folds of flesh, amazingly hot and slick with our comingled fluids.