Travelogue

After about five minutes that felt like 20, Lila emerged from the hallway. She was topless, still wearing the long skirt. Also, barefoot.

I liked it. I really liked this as a look on her; I was probably staring. The way her breasts floated out in front of her chest, jiggling slightly as she moved, was mesmerizing.

Lila giggled at me. "Something distracting you?"

I didn't try to deny it. "You look amazing," I said. "And by 'amazing' I mean really really pretty and stuff."

"Thank you, sir," she said to me, approaching me, pushing her bare breasts into my chest, kissing me.

"Now," she was saying to my lips, "I need to pre-heat the oven." She turned and looked at the kitchen counter. "Where did your mom leave her notes?"

Lila leaned over the counter, biting her lip, reading. Her breasts were hanging gracefully out from her chest. I just stared, still nowhere near used to the sight of her even half-naked, even though it had been many days since she'd first bared herself in front of me to feed the baby Zack.

"OK," she was saying. She whirled around and started fiddling with the oven controls. "Pre-heat ... 350 ... there."

"Wait," I said. "How do you know how to work an oven like this?"

She turned to face me, smiling. "You don't really think I'm that sheltered, do you? I use Eliza's convection oven all the time. And her microwave." She glanced at the oven. "Eight minutes to finish pre-heating."

She pointed to a kitchen chair. "Sit down. You know, my cousin even has Internet."

I sat. "What, really?"

She let out a tiny snort. "We really aren't living in the past that much, Billy, not that much. I've been on it a lot, when I go over to her house." Lila giggled. "We like to watch porn."

I sat there trying to figure out if she was serious about the porn.

Lila sat down on my lap, straddling me, her face in mine. "We have eight minutes and we need to find something to do."

Her breasts pushed into me as she kissed my lips.

—

Lila was arching her back, just slightly, in order to get one of her breasts level with my face. I lowered my head to meet the breast she was cupping.

Her nipple stood long and erect for me. I opened my mouth around it and sucked it deep inside, then sealed my lips. The breast skin was warm, and I could feel the thick, hard poke of her nipple pleasantly sliding across my tongue as I suckled in slow rhythm.

Lila sighed softly. "It feels so nice when you do this."

We snuggled. In less than a minute, her milk arrived, and she let out a big sigh. Her fingers played with the hair on the back of my head. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see a tiny driblet forming at the end of her other nipple.

After two or three minutes, I felt her pull the breast from my mouth. Lila's chest turned, and she aimed her other breast at my lips. I opened and latched onto this other areola, tasting the driblet. She pulled me in tight, and it took only a couple of seconds of suckling until milk flowed. It was wonderful and warm and delicious, the sweet honey-coconut sort of flavor that I now thought of as the taste of Lila herself.

Lila was shivering a little. "You don't know what this does to a girl," she whispered to me. "Such tingles, all over."

She purred, and I could feel the vibrations from her chest.

"It makes me feel so good," she told me.

Beeeep!

We both jerked, startled. It was the oven, now pre-heated. Our blissful haze evaporated.

She started to stand up, and I licked a trace of milk from her areola and then released her.

"OK," she breathed, shaking her head slightly. She glanced at the note on the counter. "OK." Lila opened our refrigerator and pulled out a glass tray with meat and stuff in it. Carefully, she carried it toward the oven as the fridge door closed with a smack behind her.

"Can you open the oven, sweetie?"

I pulled the door down and was greeted by a small rush of heat. I backed out of her way, and Lila bent over to slide the glass tray thingie in, her breasts hanging down, big and bulbous, as she did. She closed the oven door and looked at the clock, then started pounding her finger on a keypad until the oven beeped at her; she seemed pleased with the beep.

"OK, we've got 40 minutes until it's ready. Potatoes we can do in the microwave, won't take but a minute." She turned to look at me, hands on her hips. "So, mister boy," she said, smiling pleasantly. "What can we do for the next 40 minutes?"

—

I'd led her to my bedroom, and she was laying on my bed, on her side; her skirt was still on, and she laid there giving me a come-hither look.

"So this is your room," she said with a wry smile. "You lay on this bed and play with yourself? Ever think about me when you do that?"

I wasn't embarrassed in the slightest. "You have no idea."

She giggled.

I didn't bother taking my clothes off, yet; I just laid down next to her and scooted in. Our lips met and we kissed; she smelled wonderful to me. I was stroking her bare arm softly, then followed the curve of her side, across her hip, and then slowly let my hand move up to her breast, and squeezed it from the bottom.

Lila let out a big breath, right in my face, and looked me right in the eyes. "That just feels so good right now." She breathed deeply a couple of more times as I caressed and squeezed.

"Can you put your mouth back on?" she asked.

I scooted down to get my head in front of her chest, then took the breast into my mouth. Her hand was cupping it and pushing as I made a seal on her areola. My suction rhythm started, and so did her milk.

Lila let out a coo that sounded involuntary. "Every time you do this," she breathed, "it feels better and better." She took another breath. "Can you just keep doing it for a bit?"

"Umh-hmm," I said, not wanting to release the nipple. Me, I had been thinking that her milk was better every time I tasted her.

I stayed there for a while, feeling a bit euphoric as we snuggled. Lila's breathing kept getting faster until I thought she was going to start to pant. My eyes went up to find hers.

"It feels so good," she said. "Really good, better than ever. I just want you to keep doing it."

And so I did. Her breath drifted over me as she sighed, repeatedly, and it rustled my hair a little. My suction increased a little; I was getting into this, too. Somehow, with all the nursing we'd done together, this was the most intimate and intense session we'd had. I could feel a deep, happy warmth in my stomach.

Then, Lila took two quick breaths, and stopped breathing altogether. I felt her arms tighten around me, and her body shivered slightly. And then she let out a small moan.

I released her breast to look her in the eyes.

Lila was breathing deeply, and she had a strange, slightly stunned look on her face. "I came," she said. "I just came. I wasn't even touching myself."

I smiled at her, a little amazed.

She effused: "It was different, just this huge warm soft tingle, all over. But ... I definitely came. It happens to Esther sometimes; I never thought, never imagined it would happen to me."

I kissed her.

"Oh my god," she said, shaking her head slightly. "Wow. That was amazing. I feel so close to you."

I went back to suckling for another couple of minutes. Lila moaned softly, but it didn't seem like she was going to come again.

I heard Lila let out a big sigh. "We have to do more now," she said, sounding suddenly impatient. Then she was trying to push me down onto the bed.

"Wait a sec," I said, and I started pulling down the bed covers.

"Oh, you do it under the blankets?" said Lila. She laughed. "I didn't know."

I smiled at her and got underneath, and she joined me there.

"I thought you did it on the bedspread, for some reason. Didn't your mom say to wash the bedspread?"

I pecked at her lips. "You can do it anywhere you want," I told her, "but most people like being sort of under the covers. She said the bedsheets."

"God, this feels so grown up, doing it in a bed!" Lila stretched and luxuriated for a moment, then turned toward my body, yanking my shorts open and my underwear down. Her head dove under the covers and she was licking my stiff shaft before I could stop her.

When she swallowed the head of my penis, I almost panicked. "No! No, Lila, you'll make me come."

She came up for air, grinning.

I shook my head. "Not yet, not yet." I pulled my underwear back up, compressing my raging erection.

Then I pushed her onto her back and prepared to go down. For a moment, I just sat and looked at her tits; even while she was lying on her back, they stood up and away from her chest, big and firm. Her nipples were dark, long, and knotty.

Lila spread herself, and I slid her skirt and her ruffly slip up the length of her legs, settling them around her hips. Lila helped me peel down her panties (quite wet); I let them fall to the floor. My fingers played with the dense bush of pubic hair, grazing and parting the bristles. I played with the sparse hairs on her upper thighs, ran the trail of longish hairs below her belly button, lightly traced the outline of her soft, fat vulva, buried under curls and clumps of golden brown.

Lila shivered and took a deep breath.

I moved my head between her thighs and kissed them, playing with some leg hairs with my tongue. Lila giggled at that. The scent was strong and erotic, pungent, and it made me excited. I didn't want to wait any longer; I gingerly parted the thick hair and speared my tongue at her outer vulva, pushing the lips apart.

She jerked a little at first, but I kept flapping the end of my tongue at her clitoris, growing thick and stiff. Soon she was breathing deeply and moaning. Three or four minutes went by, and then she cried out loudly, coming. I backed off for a few moments, then kept at it. A minute later, she came again, and then again, and then again, each orgasm about a minute apart. I gently slid my middle finger into her vagina, turning it and fingering the pronounced bump I found inside. Katie had explained to me what the G-spot is, and we'd found hers at a later point in our sexual relationship, so I was curious to see how Lila would respond to stimulating it. Her cries and moans did seem more intense as she came again.

In these moments, I felt truly envious of Lila for the first time. For her, an orgasm was always welcome, just one of many long spans of very intense pleasure. When one subsided, she could look forward to the next, mere moments away. It was something she could experience as many times as she cared to, part of a long continuum. She had no need to resist; she could relax and enjoy them as they came, quickly and easily. Lila's could be casual about all that pleasure; it was simply hers for the taking.

Me? My experience was the opposite: an orgasm was a brief, comparatively muted event, and absolutely singular. It was the deal-killer—the short, sweet end to sex. I had to resist it at all costs, control its approach with great effort, until we were ready for sex to be finished, at least for a while. This wasn't fair in the slightest.

And yet, I was falling in love with her, and I wanted her to feel that deep pleasure, repeatedly, for as long as she could stand it. As a man, I felt like a sexual martyr; I could lead her through the promised land that I could never visit myself. Much of the enjoyment of sex was coming from helping her achieve pleasure, and watching it happen, wondering what it was truly like to experience such repeated rapture.

It was my lust and my love for her that drove me forward. I sucked on her clit, then flicked at it. I licked her labia, outer and then inner, both quite thick. I pierced her vagina with my tongue and tasted the steady drizzle of thick fluid flowing from it. I did it all incessantly, spurred on by her cries and shivers, by her shouts of "I'm coming again!" It was strange how her orgastic experiences made me feel euphoric.

At one point, I gave in to temptation, not knowing what reaction I might get: I spread her ass cheeks apart.

The inside of her ass, between the crack, was a soft pink; it had scant, tiny hairs in it, mostly surrounding her asshole. Honestly, if it wasn't for the hairs, I'm not sure I could've found her asshole at all; it was so tight and tiny that I had to wonder if it ever opened up. It seemed impossible.

I blew softly, teasing the little hairs while listening for a reaction. She froze for a second when I first opened her, but now her breathing had gotten deep, and then she let out small, delighted moans and giggles.

I blew harder now, and moved my hand back to find her clitoris. When I found it, I gently orbited with a finger.

"That's—I love that," she said.

I was tempted to lick her ass, but I didn't want to freak her out; it would probably be too strange for her, too much kink. (Katie liked me to tongue her asshole, but we didn't venture there until we'd been fucking for quite a few weeks.)

I kept blowing the little hairs, and I played with her clit. Soon, she came again, a long and intense spell. I watched her asshole contract repeatedly as her orgasm progressed.

My cock ached and strained.

After it had subsided, she grabbed my shoulders, out of breath, tugging, trying to say my name.

"Come up here," she managed to breathe.

I climbed up to her and she kissed me, then pushed me down, held out a breast, and smashed my mouth onto her nipple.

"Let me give something back to you," she was whispering.

Swallowing Lila's breastmilk was not at all the same as having an orgasm, but it was a sensual, pleasurable feeling nonetheless; it was sensual to suck her breast, and wonderful to taste what it produced. She held her breast to me, massaging it a little. In a moment of lustful intensity, I let a finger graze over her underarm hair, damp and warm. She giggled at that but did not object. I put my other hand between her legs and found her clit again, making gentle circles around it.

Lila came another time, breathless and shivering, before she stopped me and stood up on her knees. She pushed me down on my back and started trying to tear my shorts and underwear off; I helped, and then I pulled my shirt off, too. Lila was eyeing my raging hard-on. "Now," she said, "is payback time."

She settled over my erection, then looked up: "Don't take your eyes off me. I want you to watch the whole thing."

She didn't tease me. Her mouth went right over the head of my penis; her lips felt soft, cool, and wet. Soon, she'd tightened around my shaft, sliding up and down, slowly, then faster. Her fingers explored my ballsack, gently, playfully. It was as though she knew exactly what to do and when to do it, and it was intimidating. She was in complete control: I was going to come, and she was going to make me, and it would happen when she wanted it to.

The inside of her mouth felt warm and very soft. It wasn't like her vagina, really, but it did feel wonderful inside. Her lips were sliding halfway down my shaft, her head bobbing up and down, her hair flopping around. I could feel the buzzing tingle rising; she was making it happen. I had already come three times that day, twice inside her, and now she was somehow going to make me come yet again. It seemed impossible.

Her fingers wrapped around my cock and started sliding up and down along with her mouth, tightly. That was it: I knew she had me. Her speed increased. Her eyes looked up at me as if to say, "You're mine." A few more seconds, and I was.

My orgasm seemed to come out of nowhere; it surprised me, even though I knew it was going to happen. There was a tingling burst that came from around my balls, which was a new sensation, and then it spread all through my legs and through my penis. It happened so quickly that I didn't have time to warn her—Katie never liked to swallow my come, so I had wanted to give Lila fair warning. You know, at least manage to say "I'm gonna come now" or something.

I had no chance, though; immediately after the tingle started, the contractions began, and I felt myself pumping my semen into Lila's mouth. She didn't pull off; instead, I watched her stop sucking and lower her lips down on my cock so that I was ejaculating deep inside her mouth, which pretty much felt incredible. I can't explain how I had anything left to discharge after three orgasms, but I did.

My cock was still jerking sporadically when she put her lips around the tip and sucked powerfully for a few moments; I made a primitive groan. Then she released it and sat up.

She looked right at me. "I swallowed your come," she said, grinning wickedly. "Did you like that?"

"I loved it," I mumbled.

"Yeah. I like how it tastes. And it's supposed to be good for my hair and my nails."

Just then, a long buzz sounded from far away: the timer in the kitchen.

She sat up. "Suppertime," she announced.

—

We just ate naked. Honestly, part of it was laziness; why get dressed again, when we knew that after dinner we were going to be back to doing it? Also, it felt good to be together this way. We had spent a lot of the day pressing our bodies together, merging them, being so very intimate. Why cover up now?

After a stop in the bathroom to "freshen herself," she found a couple of bath towels and put them on our chairs. We sat and both started carving up the cuts of pork tenderloin. It was delicious, and I told her so, but she said that it was really my mom's doing. "All I did was just put it in the oven," she said.

We ate for a couple of minutes, and then she looked up at me. Her hair was tied back, and her bright smile was beautiful. "I'm not a nasty girl," she told me.

I shook my head. "No, you're not," not entirely clear what she even meant.

"Well, if someone heard about another girl doing some of the things we were doing, they might say she was kind of nasty."

I shrugged; I didn't think so.

"Thing is," she continued, "is that when I'm with you, I just feel free."

I was nodding. "I guess I think of it this way—I love when we do things with our bodies that are really intimate. I want to be close with you. And it's exciting when I know that we can do anything together, anything we want."

Lila grinned and said, "You're such a writer! Yeah, exactly what you said."

I shrugged; I didn't think I'd said anything especially eloquent, and besides, that's just how I word things. I guess I talk like a book sometimes, but I can't help it.

After dinner, we each popped a couple of Altoids (pork, yuck) and headed back to my bedroom.

—

It felt wonderful to slip into bed with her and slide myself up against her. It was a familiar feeling to be pressed up against a velvety feminine body like this—Katie and I had made love countless times—but it wasn't exactly the same, not completely. There was firm pressure at my chest from Lila's full boobs, and that felt very different from when I'd laid with my old girlfriend, who wasn't really all that busty. I liked the way Lila's tits pushed into me. Lila's skin was softer than Katie's, I thought.

The sensation of her body hair on my skin: that was new, too. It was mostly soft and feathery, but it still made her body feel different from what Katie's was like naked. Katie shaved herself pretty much everywhere, including between her legs. The fuzzy, occasionally scratchy feeling of Lila's legs slipping across mine and the scant, longish hairs on her lower belly that tickled my stomach—well, these weren't things I was used to. The biggest difference was the brush of her dense pubic bush, which felt thick and coarse across my trunk and bristly over the shaft of my penis. That was a completely new feeling.

I loved the sensations, however new they might be. I had quickly grown comfortable with the idea that this was a girl's natural state: she had hair on her body, in lots of places. I found it all adorable; it was cute that she had small, feminine tufts of hair in her armpits, and I loved that dainty, wiry trail beneath her belly button. Regardless of what I might've once imagined, body hair slipping across my skin did not make Lila seem unwomanly at all. She was so powerfully feminine that her hairiness made her seem even more soft and girly and beautiful.