The Plains of Passage - Jean M. Auel [121]
“Come,” he said, when they separated, getting up and extending a hand to help her up. “Let’s go swimming.”
He led her deeper into the pool, until the water reached her waist, then pulled her close to him, to kiss her again. She felt his hand between her legs, the coolness of the water as he opened her folds, and a stronger sensation when he found her hard little node and rubbed it.
She let the feeling course through her. Then, she thought, This is happening too fast. I’m almost ready. She took a deep breath, then slipped out of his grasp and, with a laugh, splashed him.
“I think we should swim,” she said, and reached out for a few strokes. The swimming hole was small, enclosed on the opposite side by a submerged island covered with a dense reed bed. Once across it, she stood up and faced him. He smiled and she felt the force of his magnetism, of his need, of his love, and wanted him. He swam toward her as she started swimming back toward the beach. When they met, he turned and followed her.
Where the water became shallow, he stood up and said, “All right, we did our swimming,” then took her hand and led her out of the water to the beach. He kissed her again and felt her pull him closer, and she seemed to melt in his arms as her breasts and stomach and thighs pressed agaisnt his body.
“Now it’s time for other things,” he said.
Her breath caught in her throat, and he watched her eyes dilate. Her voiced quivered slightly as she tried to speak. “What other things?” she asked, with an attempt at a teasing smile.
He dropped down on the ground cover and held up his hand to her. “Come here and I’ll show you.”
She sat down next to him. He pushed her back kissing her, then, with no other preliminary, he moved to cover her, and down, pushed her legs apart, and ran his warm tongue up her cool wet folds. Her eyes opened wide for an instant as she shivered at the sudden throbbing rush that pulsed through her, feeling it deep inside. Then she felt a sweet pulling, as he suckled at her place of Pleasures.
He wanted to taste her, to drink her, and he knew she was ready. His own excitement grew as he felt her respond, and his loins ached with need as his large, slightly curving manhood swelled to its fullest. He nuzzled, nibbled, suckled, manipulating her with his tongue, then reached to taste her inside, and savored it. For all his need, he wished he could go on forever. He loved to Pleasure her.
She felt the excited frenzy growing inside her, and she moaned, then cried out as she felt the peak rising, almost reaching its crest.
If he allowed it, he could have let himself release without even entering her, but he loved that feeling of her when he was inside, too. He wished there was some way he could do it all at once.
She reached for him and lifted up to meet him as the clamorous storm within her rose, and then almost without warning, suddenly erupted. He felt her wetness and warmth, then raised himself and moving up, found her welcome entrance and, with a strong surging push, filled it completely. His eager manhood was so ready, he wasn’t sure how much longer he could wait.
She called out his name, reaching for him, wanting him, arching to his push. He plunged in again and felt her full embrace. Then, shuddering and groaning, he backed out, feeling the exquisite pull in his loins as his sensitive organ incited sensations deep within him. Then suddenly he was there, he could wait no more and as he pushed in again, felt the burst of Pleasures overtake him. She cried out with him, as her fierce delight overflowed.
He made a few last strokes; then he collapsed on top of her, both of them resting from the exhilarating arousal and tempestuous release. After a while, he lifted his head and she reached up to kiss him, conscious of the smell and taste of herself, which always reminded