Travelogue

For myself, by the way: I started trimming the hair around my penis and my balls, mainly, I guess, because it made my cock look even bigger. Lila liked the way this looked because it was so different from what she was used to, other penises she'd seen. But the idea of shaving any part of her own body was as disgusting to her as the idea of not shaving might be to a girl from elsewhere. A razor was something a man might use on his face, but she would never use one on herself; women were meant to be natural creatures, and a razor seemed like such a crude, unnecessary tool to her.

"Is it OK if we go slow now?" she was whispering to me.

I nodded silently.

"We were in such a rush before. I mean, I loved that, but now I just want to take our time."

My penis was rock-hard, but knowing that it was going to be inside her soon enough, it was pleasant just holding her to me and gazing into her big, brown eyes.

We were kissing when I felt fingers on my cock, playing at first, then gripping. Lila's leg arched, and I felt her hand guide my dick over the thick mat between her legs, then to a hot, wet place. Then, I felt myself slipping inside her. It was rapturous; it felt like coming home.

Our kiss ended, and I looked at her, my eyebrows raised.

"Oh," she said, smiling cutely. "I didn't mean we weren't going to start doing it. I just want to do it slow."

Lila gyrated her hips erotically, and I felt my penis sliding around. We kissed again for a moment.

"You know," she said, her face near mine, "I really do like your thang." She grinned, silly. "I love the way it fits inside me." We kissed again. "It feels real nice."

We didn't move much; we just snuggled and let my penis rest inside her body.

"I was thinking," said Lila in a quiet voice, "about when I first saw you. I thought you were the cutest thing, and I thought, 'I really want to kiss that boy.'" She smiled shyly. "But when you started talking to me, the way you use words—it was like listening to poetry. I felt kind of, you know, sort of enchanted."

I kissed her.

"And that's when I really knew I was going to fall for you, on that first day," she said with a smile in her voice.

I couldn't wait any more; I started pumping in and out of her. I managed to keep it slow.

She breathed in my face. "No, mm-mm. I'll do it."

I felt her vaginal muscles tighten and release around me, and her hips shifted in a slow, slight rhythm that pumped my penis in and out of her just slightly.

I kissed her, and we kept kissing for several minutes, barely coming up for air. It may have been the most sensual kiss of my life; we slithered together, moved together with passion and slow-burning excitement. What broke it: Lila opened her mouth wide to gasp.

I looked at her, not sure what was happening. We weren't fucking hard or fast at all. But her eyes went wide, looking straight at me, and then they snapped shut. Her breathing was deep. I hadn't put it together until I felt her shiver, and sensed wetness at my chest: she was coming. The pained look on her face stayed for several seconds.

Once she recovered, she whispered, "Wow." She had a sheepish smile.

"That was amazing," I told her.

She nodded at me, still smiling. "Out of nowhere." And then, "It's so easy for you to make me come."

I wanted to start pumping into her now, and fast, but she stopped me again. Her hips kept moving and her vagina kept gripping and then releasing. We kept kissing.

And then she came again. It was obvious enough when it started—her breathing deepened and her eyes shut tight—but these were long, slow orgasms, not the kind she'd had earlier where I thought she might scream. I watched as she came, her face screwed up from the intensity, beautiful. I tried to imagine what this long, deep pleasure must have been like, but couldn't. It was like trying to imagine what it's like to have magical powers, or how it would feel to be a dolphin. You could try to picture yourself as a genie floating in the air, or as a sea creature gliding effortlessly through water, but you'd never truly know what it's like. What Lila was experiencing—this, too, was beyond my ability to imagine. She was having lengthy spells of intense rapture, again and again, sometimes with only seconds in between bouts. It was awe-inspiring and even pleasing for me to watch as it happened, and kept happening, on and on. She could take as much pleasure as she wanted, ad infinitum: I never ceased to boggle at this. Like I said before, as a guy, I have to fight to delay my one tiny orgasm for as long as possible, so this kind of freewheeling ecstasy was truly beyond my comprehension.

I was really, really turned on, but our slow, erotic movement wasn't threatening to make me come. I was rock-hard inside her, and felt like I was getting even harder. She felt hot and amazing, but right then, I felt like I was there to make her feel good, not so much me. I held one of her breasts up so that I could get my mouth to it, and sealed my lips over her areola, suckling firmly. Her milk flowed, and she reacted, whimpering into another orgasm. I swallowed and sucked. When she'd finished coming, I put my lips on hers and kissed her, letting a trickle of her own milk leak into her mouth.

Lila let out a long "mmmmmm!" from in her throat, and I felt her chuckle a little. She broke the kiss: "It's yummy, huh?"

"Nectar of the gods," I smiled.

"I want you to come now."

I shook my head. "I don't know if I'm ready. I like watching you. I don't even know if I can."

She smiled at me. "I think I'm at, like, 18 so far," she told me. "It's time for you to have one, too."

I didn't say anything; I pushed her down on her back and supported myself with my arms, hovering over her. Lila gave me a grin, but it evaporated as I started thrusting into her. She stretched her limbs out, as if completely submitting to me—her legs spread themselves wide, her arms splayed out above her head. I thought she looked incredible beneath me, soft, curvy, frenzied, horny as hell, hairy and wet and girly, beautiful. My thrusting went faster, almost of its own accord, and my body shuddered. In seconds, hot tingles swept through me and then, at the peak of pleasure, I watched my cock slide all the way into Lila's body as I started ejaculating.

I realized, starting to regain my senses, that my orgasm had put Lila over the edge yet again—she was coming, and it continued while my own subsided. I tried to keep moving, but she didn't need much help. Her orgasm finally ended, and we collapsed together.

Lila ran to my bathroom to "clean up," then came out and slid into bed next to me.

—

We rested for just a few minutes, and then—somehow—just lying with her had made me hard again. I had now recognized that I was witnessing a display of female sexual capacity far beyond anything I'd ever realized was possible. That realization kept getting me aroused. Her orgasms had been so beautiful; it was as if I was watching her connect with the universe in a deep and primitive way, an experience uniquely feminine. I wanted to see more.

Lila was on all fours, presenting her ass to me. "Let's do it this way," she said.

She was dripping wet, all over. I positioned myself behind her, pushed into her vagina in one long tight slide, and began a slow pump. I quickly began to speed up, giving her long, rapid strokes; from this angle, I felt as though I was going even deeper inside her than I'd been. Lila was issuing quiet moans, and had put her head down on the pillow, with only her round ass now sticking into the air. My hands had seized her waist, and I was using it for leverage.

She mumbled something that couldn't make out. Then she repeated it, louder, a couple more times, as if she thought it was the most thrilling thing she'd ever said: "Your balls are tickling my clit." Her voice sounded lewd, excited. "Your balls are tickling my clit," she repeated.

And then her body froze, stiffened, and shook. Me, I just kept up the long strokes as she came, and I watched her tiny, wet asshole contract again and again as the orgasm progressed. I counted the contractions: 14. Unreal.

When it subsided, I just kept going; this was a comfortable position, and I was in cruising mode. I felt like I could go forever. I played with the tiny, spiky hairs in her ass, and she cooed in approval. Before long, I couldn't help myself: my middle finger, already quite wet, slid into her asshole, about half an inch deep. I wiggled it, and pumped it slightly; it was fiercely tight, an iron clamp. Lila was moaning and whimpering; I wasn't sure if she was fully conscious of what I was doing—she was kind of beside herself—but she made no complaint. Her ass hugged my finger again and again as she came. After a couple more orgasms—I wasn't sure; it was sometimes hard to tell when one ended and another began—I let my finger pop out, and I concentrated on pumping my cock into her.

I felt almost like we were two perfectly fitted parts of a machine. Again and again, Lila would go from heavy breathing to loud moans, her body would seize and arch and then shiver, and then her head and chest would fall to the bed. It was hard to count, but I think that happened about eight or nine times in total, and each one of them seemed even longer than the last. Lila's back was sweaty, and when I could see her cheeks, they were flush; as she came, I could see the skin on her upper back turn starting to turn red.

My room was downright humid now, smelling of sweat and sex and the perfume of Lila's body. It was heavenly.

"God," she breathed to me, in a moment in between orgasms. "I don't think I knew so many were possible."

I didn't either. But, since I couldn't have multiple orgasms, myself, I was determined to push Lila to her limits, to fuck her until she couldn't take anymore pleasure. It was always so satisfying to watch her come. The room was absolutely quiet save for the tempo of bed creaks, the slapping of our bodies, and our heavy breathing, Lila's especially. When she came, she'd always moan and sometimes verbalize (either "Oh, god!" or "I'm coming again!"). Sometimes her hand would slip between her legs so she could finger her clit. Me, I just hovered over her ass, and when Lila started another orgasm, I'd thrust even more rapidly in an impulsive urge to push her beyond her limits.

It was a pleasure in itself to look down at her, to look at her bubbly ass, to stare at the whole of her body, sweaty, curved, feminine, hairy—I loved the way her big tits hung away from her chest, bouncing and shifting firmly with our rhythm. Her nipples had grown hard and long, and they'd turned a deep, deep red. Sometimes, as she stretched forward in her doggy pose, I could see that her underarm hair had gotten dark and wet. I felt like I was floating, super-aroused by the very sight of her beautiful body and by her amazing capacity for pleasure. It made me want to keep going and going, excited and full of energy, but too spent to be in danger of coming. Meanwhile, every couple of minutes (or less), she would start moaning or whining as yet another orgasm began.

Lila was always wet, no matter how much time went by. That in itself was amazing. Katie would start to get dry after only a few minutes of me inside her, and she eventually just bought some K-Y lube, which we kept in my nightstand. We used a lot of it; if we didn't, we'd both end up all chafed. Lila? She was really wet, and she stayed that way for as long as we kept doing it. Her wetness was thick and syrupy, so it was easy to keep sliding in and out of her very tight vagina. Her tightness was intense, but I didn't feel like I was getting sore.

We'd been in the doggy position for a while, and Lila was shivering after an especially long, deep orgasm. She turned and looked me in the eye. "I want you to come now," she squeaked.

"I don't know if I can," I said, although I was beginning to suspect that maybe I could.

"It's not fair. You need to come, too."

Well, there was a lot about this that was not technically fair, but that was really beside the point.

So, I tried. I stopped all thoughts of holding back, and let the sight of Lila's body writhing beneath mine truly turn me on, no holds barred. I focused on the sight of the my cock's length sliding all the way inside her, and at the sight of her cunt, red and hairy, and the inside of her ass crack. She was dripping wet, everywhere. It was easier than I'd even thought to get hyper-aroused; once I released my mental blocks, the sight of her beautiful, wanton face looking back at me and of her full tits bouncing and of my cock sliding and of her ass gyrating—all of it created a mounting pressure inside me, a growing itch.

"God," she was breathing to me. "I love the way you fuck."

I let go, thrusting hard and deep, letting her heat send tingles through my cock and my entire groin.

"Oh, shit, I'm gonna come," I confessed. "I'm gonna come."

"Oh, baby," she said, and it seemed to turn her on a lot; her breathing got faster. "I'm coming," she moaned.

Well, that was enough for me: it started. It was not a huge orgasm, just a pleasant, throbbing ache of release. My thrusting slowed as the wave swept over me and my cock began to jerk; I didn't know whether I had anything left to ejaculate, but it didn't matter.

Lila's finger wiggled between her legs, and her orgasm continued even after I collapsed onto her back—maybe a whole 20 or 30 seconds more. Her capacity for pleasure seemed surreal to me. Using that same word, "orgasm," for what we both experienced seemed nonsensical. Her orgasms were so much bigger and longer than mine that there was really no comparison. It was apples and oranges. I had a single hiccup, and she had series after series of grand mal seizures. I felt very happy for her, now with only a twinge of envy.

After that, I pulled out and collapsed next to her, and we both rested and caught our breath.

I wanted to say something. I wanted to tell her that I'd had no idea that anyone—any woman—on Earth was capable of that kind of hyperreal sexual experience. I hadn't really been keeping a running count, but I knew she'd had at least 30 orgasms, probably more. What was that like? What did it feel like?

I didn't say anything at all. Everything I wanted to effuse, all my questions, all of it seemed trite, ridiculous. This wasn't new to her; she already knew she was this orgasmic. I didn't need to inform her of it, and I knew there was no way she could express how it felt for her.

Instead, I snuggled up to her and drifted off.

—

When I woke up, it was 9:30 PM, and I heard my shower running. I felt exhausted. My cock ached at its base and its skin was a little sore now, burning slightly. Even my balls felt depleted and achey. I laid in a woozy coma.

A couple minutes later, Lila emerged from my bathroom, naked and dry, brushing her hair. The sight of her was arousing all over again, at least hypothetically, although my penis was not going to budge.

She was all smiles. "I used your deodorant," she announced to me. "Hope you don't mind." She giggled. She walked up to kiss me, big, firm boobs pressing into me as she leaned down. "Later on," she said, "when I'm diddling off before bed, I'll pretend you're there with me; I'll be able to smell you."

I just stared at her. "Seriously?"

"What?"

"Um, diddling?"

"Well," she answered, drawing out the "l". "You made me come so many times, I mean, I can't believe it." She shrugged. "I'm not horny right now, but I'm sure later on I'll be thinking about it and probably get horny all over again. And, you know, one thing leads to another."

I was shaking my head; how could she want even more? This girl put me to shame.

"Listen for me," she said. "Every time I come, I'll call your name in my mind. Maybe you'll hear me."

With that, she started putting on her bra. She looked up at me: "Your parents will be back pretty soon. You should probably shower."

I did. When I got out, I saw that Lila had changed the sheets.

—

In later days, we mostly did it far out in the woods on sunny afternoons, coupling up on a blanket. It was more, well, rustic that way. And by "rustic" I mean that while it's nice to be doing these carnal acts with someone you love in the open air, with the added excitement of possibly being seen, twigs and rocks always seem to find their way onto the blanket to poke and scratch you in the worst possible places. We didn't let that stuff bother us too much, though; the feeling of being physically together like that was always as exciting as our first times.

Sometimes we'd do it in the grotto, even though our friends were in the lake and might have been able to see. I think Lila has sort of an exhibitionist streak. She never went out of her way to be caught when we were doing it, but she was always loud during orgasm, whether in the forest or in that little grotto. She never held back, and she didn't seem to care much about hiding when we were together like that.

Once or twice, when we did it in the woods, we were about 100 feet away from another couple that was out there doing it, too. Lila would wave—mid-coitus!—and the other girl would wave back, like, "hey, I'm fucking a guy, too!" It didn't bother me, but my only other experience with sex was with Katie, and she would never be caught dead in that situation. I didn't really think Lila's open attitude was weird, but it did take some getting used to. She didn't even bother trying not to be loud.

She did come over for "dinner" every couple of weeks. A lot of the time it was actually dinner—sometimes she and my mom would cook together, which my mom enjoyed—but afterward, my parents would leave for a three-hour drive to somewhere while Lila and I went to my room and fucked on the bed. We liked my bed, but the pressure of having to be done and showered by the time my parents got home made it less fun than when we just had all afternoon to do it again and again. There were whole Saturdays when my parents would go on a day trip, and Lila would come over, but they were rare. I can't blame my parents; trips like that aren't easy.

Twice we snuck out to that old bent tree overlooking the river, where we'd first kissed, after dark. I'd pull down my pants and Lila, wearing a skirt, climbed on and mounted me, and we'd join our bodies. It wasn't especially comfortable, being on the tree, but it was emotionally satisfying for us to be sitting there together again, like we had that first day, only more intimate.

All this activity made Lila and I wish for a place of our own, where we could just do it anytime we were alone, and all night if we wanted. We used to talk a lot about how nice that might be. I wanted to make a life with her, and I wanted to know what it would be like to have someplace that belonged only to the two of us.

Lila had already become the best friend I'd ever had. When we were just sitting and holding hands, or having a long talk, or doing a big hike out beyond the lake (with real hiking boots, no slipping!), I would sometimes forget that this delightful girl was also a sexual lioness. She was pleasant to be around, funny, engaging, surprising, and smart. And for some reason, she liked me, too, and called me her best friend. Even when she was breastfeeding me, it didn't always feel like a sexual experience. just something very sensual, a wonderful, deep connection.

I fed from Lila just about every day. I liked it a lot, and found myself craving the taste of her when we were apart, but Lila had an even greater urgency; she would all but demand that we get together and nurse, even on days when we didn't have sex. The problem was that her milk supply had increased to meet the bigger demand (created by me), and she'd get physically uncomfortable when she hadn't nursed very much. Yes, she said, she could always just pump or massage it out, but she didn't like to waste it, and women in Watley didn't believe in feeding children stored breastmilk from bottles. So unless she'd been breastfeeding kids a lot on any particular day, it was up to me to relieve the pressure that sometimes made her chest feel swollen and even painful. I didn't mind helping at all.