Under the Waterfall

"Here?"

My wife shook her mass of wet curls, tendrils of hair hiding her tanned face.

"No, no, not here."

This time, not a question. Her eyes were wild with fear - or was it excitement? I knew her well enough to know that her resistance was real, but not firm. All the years we have been married, we seem to take turns pushing each other's boundaries. Fitting, perhaps, that we first made out playing truth or dare the very first night we had met in college. Neither of us had been prepared to quit first, right through the seven minutes in heaven. Even when our friends locked us together in that frat house closet, where we could simply have done nothing and waited, or nervously kissed, hands fondling hips and sides only outside clothes, we continued escalating the moment. At each stage, before moving boldly forward, she had sighed a breathy "no..."

No, don't nibble her earlobe.

No, don't gently squeeze that finely toned swimmer's ass.

No, don't slide my hands up under her sweater.

No, don't unclasp her bra.

Yet it was she that sighed as I licked down the side of her neck, lifting my mouth to her waiting lips, thrusting her tongue past my teeth. Grabbed my waist and pulled my hips tightly against hers even though she must have known that my twenty year old cock would be fully engorged. She simply wriggled her hips in response, and then sighed as my hands automatically slid down her back.

The "no" as they reached her ass was subtle, just enough to make me pause, followed by her giggle, no doubt entertaining any party goers listening outside the door. She declared her true desire by releasing my body, her hands sliding over top of mine, showing me just how she liked to be held.

Once that task was completed, she fumbled with the button at my waist, loosening my jeans. It was hard to believe the "no" when my hands moved up, following her curves along her torso, because by then, her hand was inside my pants, caressing my swollen cock. Her breathing settled into a slow, rhythmic mode, confirming the effect of the alcohol in releasing her inhibitions, softening her mood, yet not making her so drunk that I felt like I was taking advantage, or that she would try to forget it in the morning. I was hardly more experienced than she was then - her hands were much more expert at their tasks than mine - but I understood true passion.

Afterwards, she admitted she must have meant "no, this can't be happening" not "no, stop."

Lots of "no" but not one "stop". She must have known it was risky, grasping my steely hard shaft, my tighty whities sinking below my root, containing only my roiling ball sac. Neither of us could have known how much time had passed. Someone might open that closet door any moment, yet still, her well manicured fingertips traced the swollen vein; her thumb grazed the slit; her palm cupped the head, rubbing in a soft slow circular motion.

She slid her fist down my shaft until her fingernails scraped gently against my scrotum. It had been a long time since anyone except me had touched me like that and it sent shivers up my spine, where they exploded like fireworks in my brain. She drew her palm up my swollen rod shaft and twisted her hand around the girth, my silky outer sheath rubbing against the fullness within. I was in her hand. My cock grew thicker in this strange girl's hand.

I realized that I was holding my breath as she flicked her thumb across the drop of precum leaking out of the tip of my cock.

Her free hand cupped behind my neck, holding my face to hers. She pressed her chest against mine, kissing me hungrily. When she pulled back just enough to breathe that last "no", I felt the air carrying the sound more than I heard it. That time, I instinctively obeyed, leaving the bra in place. Instead, I rolled my hands around under her arms, discovering that I could easily slide my fingers up under the bra, palming her firm B cup mounds.

"Oh my, wow," she breathed in her unaffected Mid-Western accent.

My fingers found her nipples, hard rubbery points of excitement. Later, I would learn how rough she liked them tugged and teased, but on that first night, I simply raked my fingernails along the very tips. She shuddered into a teeny tiny wave of pre-orgasmic bliss, her hand releasing my cock as she ground her pelvis against my erection.

Then the door burst open, light seeming to burst in, though the room actually was very dimly lit. Our fellow players clustered around, reactions ranging from nervous giggles to faux sophisticated guffaws. To this day, I am uncertain whether I had time to fasten my pants and stuff my cock inside before she grabbed my hand, shouted "enough party for us," and scooted me out of the frat house, leading across the quad to her dorm.

Giggling, kissing, groping, we danced our way all around the building, rattling each door. All were locked. There was no way she was going to ring the night bell. The security guard would not allow me in after midnight. We ended up in an alcove between a pillar and a drain spout, where no light shone. Her back against the brick, she drew me close, mashing her lips to mine, a palm cupping each side of my face.

In that position, it would have been simple to undo the button on her jeans and shove them around her knees. If the panties did not slide with the pants, well, I was horny enough to just tear them off. That is what I imagined as we kissed, a gentle rain starting to fall, creating a sense that we were hidden behind a curtain in our nook. She would whisper another "no", but it would be her hands first freeing my hardness and then guiding it toward her honey pot. I was all set to bump her repeatedly against the roughness of the brick, raising one hand to shield her skull from harm, while she locked her ankles behind me knees to urge me deeper.

Then reality intervened. There was no murmuring "any" as I undid her jeans. Instead, she quickly broke off the kiss. At that moment, I felt the chill of the morning for the first time. Thoughts cascaded in a jumble through my overheated mind - she was so hot, she must have a boyfriend who she suddenly remembered; she was a virgin saving it for marriage; or I just wasn't hot enough for her.

None of the above. What she whispered as the raindrops beat their cadence around us was "Do you have a rubber?"

My heart sank. This angel was prepared to fuck me, if only I had come prepared. If only I had thought to scoop one of the dusty packets out of my roommate's twelve pack before heading to the party. I had done it so often that he was complaining about the wastage, since they never seemed to get used, but ended up crumpled in my pocket, often forgotten until they turned up weeks later in the laundry.

Speechless in my disappointment, I simply shook my head, letting my pout speak for me. I was shocked when her response was a girly giggle, which eased into a deep throaty growl.

"Well, then as much as I love the thought of being pounded against this wall until we achieve mutual orgasm that will have to wait until another night."

It was possibly the longest she had spoken to me up to that point in our brief relationship. Not a "no". A "next time". My weight shifted back to my heels, my body automatically preparing to step away, allow her to go around the corner and enter her dorm alone. I realized that I did not know her room number, and was not all together sure I knew her first name let alone her last.

She must have seen my disappointed, because she filled the silence.

"I can't send you across the quad with this swollen meat. It will never fit back in your pants. My excitement won't be obvious, and I only have to stay far enough away from the security guard so that she doesn't smell my musk."Another pause, another chuckle. "That dyke would probably try to rape me if she knew how horny I am right now."

"Can I..." I wasn't even sure how I would have finished the question. Luckily, she placed a finger across my lip; her curls shaking side to side as she silently said "no".

"Another time," she said. My heart beat faster at the prospect, which made my cock throb in her fist. For a moment I had forgotten that she was still holding me.

"Then what?"

If I had waited another instant, the question would have been redundant. Before the last consonant echoed off the brick, she was dropping to her knees in the cramped space.

"I'm just going to take care of your little problem," she breathed across my cockhead, swollen larger by the constriction of her fist around the top of my shaft.

"Not that it is very small. Rather the opposite, in fact," she continued, chuckling as she spoke.

Much later, I would learn that mine was only the sixth cock she had seen, the third she had touched, and at that moment, was about to become the second she had sucked. Though what she did was more fucking it with her mouth than sucking. If I ever meet that high school flame she kissed off before leaving for college by giving him head, I must thank him. Her technique may have owed more to watching porn, and playful contests deep throating veggies with gal pals than to him, but, as she later told the story, his impressive stamina gave her lots of time to practice a variety of tactics before he exploded in her mouth, his great gobs of goo so plentiful that they gushed out of her lips, dribbled down her chin, and dripped onto her chest, which he had stripped bare earlier as they were making out in his car. When she told me the story, she had vividly recalled how glad she was for that, since she was wearing her best blouse. Going off to school with cum stains on her clothing was not part of her plan.

But I knew none of that history as she settled on her haunches and leaned forward and licked my lance from the purple head, down to the base, and then back up the underside, only then pausing to taste the pre cum as she swirled her tongue around the gaping slit. She fondled and stroked my turgid balls as she licked her way back down again to explore my scrotum with the tip of her talented oral organ.

Taking my shaft in her hand, she pumped me slowly before claiming her prize, taking my helmet fully within that beautiful mouth. A tiny voice deep inside me screamed at the danger of what was happening, another part urged that voice to just shut up, to give in to desire, to accept and enjoy the moment. She looked up at me, and despite the conflicted thoughts churning in my brain I saw no doubt in her eyes. I knew that if I stopped her, spoiling the moment, I might never get another chance. So I reached out with trembling fingers, stroking the blonde mass of curls, keeping her head against my groin.

I could feel her mouth stretching to accommodate my tool. Later, she told me that though that earlier boyfriend's cock might have been a bit longer, mine was much fatter. At that moment I was too busy enjoying the waves of joy to worry about comparisons.

"So delicious," she moaned coming up for air. "I love the saltiness of the pre cum, how you smell, how you taste."

She ran her tongue down my shaft again, taking time to pay careful attention to my balls, rolling them attentively until my sack was damp with her spit. Deliberately and tenderly, she licked back up the shaft, exploring all the bumps and ridges with her tongue before feeding it deep into her throat.

I gasped as she swallowed the head and took most of my length in one gulp. Her mouth was too full for her to speak, but she paused, her eyes flicking up to make sure that I was okay. I smiled, nodded, grasped her hair in my fingers, and eased the last inch of meat past her lips.

She began to slowly bob her head along my member rhythmically. Her fingers continued to massage my balls, redoubling my excitement, driving me closer to climax. I began breathing quickly, panting shallowly as my inevitable orgasm approached.

"I'm close," I warned, not knowing then whether she intended to have my seed blow deep into her belly.

In response, she just moved more quickly. Small slurping sounds escaped her mouth as she moved along the full length of my cock. Her lust for meat was obvious, and, I later discovered, almost insatiable.

That first time, she ensured her meal by easing down my pants just enough to reach inside my briefs and curl her finger around my scrotum, reaching up and back to stimulate my prostate, which triggered my climax, my own great gobs of goo exploding into her throat. She eased back, eagerly sucking until she got every last drop of my cum. She kept my cock in her mouth, until only the head was inside her lips, so that she was tasting the final spasms of sperm spilling onto the most sensitive taste buds on her tongue and palate. Delicately, she kissed the tip of my cock, and then ran her tongue around my empty organ cock, cleaning me.

"Oh god you taste so sweet and salty all at once," she groaned.

"That was amazing," was all I could respond.

"You have a gorgeous cock," she added, rising from her squat, slipping my penis back into my pants, zipping me up smoothly.

"I hope you are still hungry," she continued, because I expect you to meet me back here at 10:00, take me for brunch, and then you can return the favour."

Brunch was a scene of mutual seduction, though she had the edge, displaying terrific talent teasing me, dancing bits of strawberry on the tip of her tongue; exploring her lips languidly with that flesh, pretending to search for pancake syrup; nibbling bacon meaningfully. We rushed back to her room, hands clasped tight together.

We ended up spending that whole Sunday afternoon exploring sexual boundaries in her dorm room while her roomie tactfully studied at the library. There were many sighed or growled "no's", each meaning "not that way, try another way," as we learned how to please each other.

Of course, I began by returning the favour of oral sex. Our clothes were a jumble on the floor, a trail beginning just inside the door and finishing with white lacy panties just beside the bed. We tumbled onto the bed. Well, she fell on her back on the mattress, legs over the edge, feet trailing toward the floor. I stood in between those feet, bent over, close to her, but still standing.

"No," she said, meaning "don't stop".

"Are you ticklish?" I breathed down at her. She looked up at me, confused by the question.

I smiled, going for gentle, but probably achieving Big Bad Wolf. . "I want to see if you're ticklish."

Without further warning, I danced the tips of my fingers along her ribs. As I trailed my hand across her shoulder toward her chest she shivered.

"No..." She shook her mane.

"You're beautiful," I whispered, "can I kiss you?"

She hesitated, nodded. It seemed that stepping back and seducing her after jumping straight into passion was just right.

I nuzzled her neck, starting just below her ear and running my tongue down below that bony ridge, and then along the taut muscle to her collar bone. She inhaled sharply. My fingers lightly grazed her nipple as I nibbled the point of her shoulder.

She moaned my name, grabbed a handful of my hair, dragged my lips to her mouth, kissing me fiercely. I responded gently, softly. I pulled back a little and smiled at her.

"I want to know what you like when I touch you. I want to cup your splendid tits and see those little nipples get hard. So far, it's all been fumbling in the dark"

"Too late, they're already stiff," she observed.

I decided then to avoid touching them for the moment. Running my tongue over her lips, sucking and nibbling at them, and then swirling my tongue around her neck, teasing her. Her chest heaved upward, seeking contact. She moaned softly. I could smell her excitement. Only then did I flick her nipple with my thumb, lower my head and take it in my mouth. My tongue swirled around her nubbin. My hand was exploring the contour of her other breast as I sucked her nipple in past my lips, giving it just a little teeth.

"No..." Her sigh was surrender, relief, the anticipation of satisfaction. Her body relaxed as she enjoyed the sensation of my mouth on her body. I used my lips and tongue and even my teeth, kissing, licking, and occasionally nibbling at her tender flesh, caressing her. Soon, she was shaking ever so slightly, her whispered "no's" begging me to please her more.

My head worked its way past her navel down her dewy belly. Her loins were wide open, dressed in just a wisp of hair.

"So beautiful, like the petals of a flower opening," I observed. I slid my hand up inside her thigh, starting at the knee, stopping just short of her treasure. My touch was light, barely stroking her.

"No" she gasped as her hips squirmed, pushing her quim closer to my hand.

"Your little clit is hard, just like a tiny baby boy's penis" I laughed before I gave it a single kiss.

She whimpered quietly, her fingers gripping my hair, holding my head in place. I slid a finger inside her slowly, then gave her pussy one long lick from bottom to top, using my thumb to hold her clit upright, where my lips fluttered across it lightly. A shiver shook her entire being.

It had been a long time since I had tasted the essence of a woman. I had almost forgotten the joy of evoking that reaction, but it all came flooding back to me, a current warming my body in response, my cock surging even stiffer. I took my time, teasing the hood of her clit, exploring her outer lips with my tongue and lips, stroking everything but her clit itself.

Then, I paused to glance up at her face – her mouth open, her eyes shut, her fingers were tweaking her own nipples. This was all the encouragement I needed to continue, swirling my tongue around her clit a few more times and then, thrusting my tongue deep inside her, exploring the depths of her womanhood, her pussy walls stretching as I probed more deeply. She was squirming, groaning, and riding my tongue.

I thrust two fingers into her cunt, twisting them until I found the magic spot nestled inside her inner labia.

"Yessss..." she moaned as I tenderly sucked her clit past my lips and teased it gently with my teeth, holding it as my tongue flicked it. Her hips twisted around my fingers as she thrust herself against my hand.

I alternated between light flutters of my tongue and hard thrusts, switching my fingers in contrasting tempo as her hips began thumping against the mattress and then rising again, demanding more attention. I steadily increased the pace, tongue and finger fucking her faster and harder. Her back arched like a bow in response.

"Come for me, my love." I dove deep into her pussy and lashed her clit faster. She screamed and I tasted her cream as she came on my tongue.

"Oh, oh, oh, no, ohmigawdddddd....nooooooooo...." she moaned as I continued the assault with my tongue.

And then, suddenly, she was spent, collapsing like a rag doll on the bed. I slid up next to her, caressing her trembling flesh as the waves subsided.

Once she caught her breath, her hand wormed its way down my tummy to my groin. Her fingers closed around my hard wood.

"Looks like this needs tending to," she grinned, giggled. Her forearm moved slowly, tugging my cock almost incidentally.

I had remembered this time to liberate a condom, but ever the gent, I replied, "what you're doing now feels great."

Her chuckle came all the way up from her belly.

"No, I don't think so. I owe you more than just a hand job."

"You want to lick it again?"

More laughter. "I'm glad my blow jobs are good enough to leave you wanting more, but I think we both know where this is heading, ever since I stopped you from fucking me outside last night."

Her hand idly pumped my resurgent member as she spoke. I have no doubt that at that moment, we were each wondering if the other was a virgin. We had not yet exchanged histories, and her aggressiveness in the closet, together with the blow job, the indication that all it took was a rubber to fuck her - to me she seemed worldly and experienced, yet I know I wondered. She had arrived at the party with a few girl friends; there was no sign of a boyfriend. Better a virgin than a slut, in my estimation. Looking back, I was already falling in love, not wanting to be just a fun Sunday fuck.