The valley of horses_ a novel - Jean M. Auel [301]
“Jondalar, do you want me to …”
“Only if you want to, Ayla.”
“It would please you?”
“It would please me.”
“I want.”
He felt a moist warmth enclose the end of his throbbing manhood, and then more than the end. He groaned. Her tongue explored the smooth round head, probed the small fissure, discovered the texture of the skin. When her first actions brought expressions of pleasure, she grew more confident. She was enjoying her explorations and felt her own throbbing inside. She circled his shape with her tongue. He called out her name, and she moved her tongue faster and felt wetness between her own legs.
He felt suction, and moist warmth moving up and down. “O Doni! Oh, woman! Ayla, Ayla! How did you learn to do that!”
She tried to discover how much she could hold, and she drew him in until she nearly gagged. His cries and moans encouraged her to try again, and again, until he was rising to meet her.
Then, sensing his need for her depths—and her own need as well—she rose, moved her leg over to straddle him, impaled herself on his full-girthed and extended member, and drew it into her. She arched her back and felt her Pleasure, as he penetrated deep.
He looked up at her and gloried in the sight. The sun behind her turned her hair into a golden nimbus. Her eyes were closed, her mouth open, and her face suffused with ecstasy. As she leaned back, her shapely breasts jutted forward, her slightly darker nipples pointing out. Her sinuous body glistened in the sun; his own manhood buried deep within was ready to burst with rapture.
She raised up along his shaft, and came down as he raised to meet her, and his breath caught. He felt a surge he couldn’t have controlled if he’d tried. He cried out when she rose again. She pushed against him, feeling a spurting wetness, as he shook with release.
He reached up and pulled her down, his mouth finding her nipple. After a while of drained contentment, Ayla rolled over. Jondalar got up, bent over to kiss her, then reached for both her breasts to nuzzle between them. He suckled one, then the other, and kissed her again. Then he relaxed beside her, cradling her head.
“I like to give you Pleasures, Jondalar.”
“No one has ever pleased me better, Ayla.”
“But you like it better when you Pleasure me.”
“Not better, exactly, but … how do you know me so well?”
“It is what you learned to do. It is your skill, like tool-making.” She smiled, then giggled. “Jondalar has two skills. He is a toolmaker and a woman-maker,” she said, looking pleased with herself.
He laughed. “You just made a joke, Ayla,” he said, smiling askance. It was a little too close to the truth, and the joke had been made before. “But you are right, I love to give you Pleasures, I love your body, I love all of you.”
“I like it when you Pleasure me, too. It makes love fill up inside me. You can Pleasure me as much as you want, only, sometimes, I want to Pleasure you.”
He laughed again. “Agreed. And since you want to learn so much, I can teach you more. We can Pleasure each other, you know. I wish it was my turn to make ‘love fill up inside you.’ But you did it so well, I don’t think even Haduma’s touch could raise me.”
Ayla was silent for a moment, “It would not matter, Jondalar.”
“What wouldn’t matter?”
“Even if your manhood never rose again—you still make love fill up inside me.”
“Don’t ever say it!” He grinned, but gave a small shudder.
“Your manhood will rise again,” she said with great solemnity, then giggled.
“What makes you so full of salt, woman? There are some things you shouldn’t make jokes about,” he said with mock offense, then laughed. He was surprised and pleased at her playfulness and new understanding of humor.
“I like to make you laugh. Laughing with you feels almost as good as loving you. I want you always to laugh with me. Then I think you won’t ever stop loving me.”
“Stop loving you?” he said, sitting up a bit and looking down at her. “Ayla, I