My First Lay

I sat in my room with all my candles burning. The flickering light pranced across the room like orange and red shadows running from one another, falling on the bookshelves and their various occupants. Each binding giving forth its own version of a reflection of the glow. Through the sliding glass doors the night was lit by the full white moon, though it seemed to be dark and cold from inside the covers of my futon. The house around me was dark as well, the electricity having been disconnected days before, however it didn't bother me, for in a house like that it was not unusual to have eerie and bizarre things occur. It was a house with a strange past and even stranger residents. I was sitting and writing by candlelight, discussing things with myself on paper. It was the usual conversation about the relative merits of life and death. For reasons beyond my ken I suddenly thought of my first lay. I think it was the candles. I could remember her face above mine, lit by the glimmer of flame falling across her features as she looked deeply into my eyes, her countenance shaped in the form of rapture.

It could have been that I had seen her recently. Eight years after that fateful night, and many miles. There she was walking with a friend. At first I hadn't recognized her. I did however do a double take at her supernatural beauty, her shapely proportions seeming to call me and demand my attention. Then I realized it was someone I had known long ago. I called to her and she turned, a look of mild confusion on her pretty face. A look that turned to recognition and happy surprise when she matched my face to my voice.

We talked, she, her friend and I, about affairs of the soul and spirit. The whole time I could sense a deep unhappiness inside of her, a feeling that she was desperate for something to fulfill her. We ended the conversation and exchanged phone numbers and promises to keep in touch.

Weeks went by, almost a month. She was married and I had no wish to interfere with the relationship she had with her husband. And yet I would find myself thinking of her at the oddest times, remembering her intense passion for life, her outrageous sense of humor and her incredible intelligence. There I was in my room, thinking of her again, so I decided to call her. We chatted for awhile, each talking around matters of merit. Finally I mentioned that it would be nice to see her, that night. She said she would like that but she wanted to go someplace neutral. I agreed and we decided that she would drive to my place and we would go from their to the beach.

Considering that she was doing that instead of getting the chocolate milkshake she craved, I promised her that I would show her a beautiful night at Goat Rock, a beach I had visited many times and had found to be a panacea for the heart. I knew it would have to be something pretty special to hold a candle to a chocolate shake.

She arrived in jeans and a flannel shirt and looking unsure of the wisdom of the outing. Neither one of us was sure of our motivation, so by an unspoken agreement we didn't mention it.

I gave her a heavy jacket and we jumped into her truck; I drove as she didn't know the way. With music playing and wheels rolling, we sped off to the beauty of the Pacific ocean on a cold moonlit night. The drive out was glorious, the bright white moon glowing softly in sussurating syncopation to the sound of the engine. We drove along the Russian river on Hwy 116, the water of the river leading us on the journey through the land of the spirit to the ocean of the soul. After a time we saw the strip of fresh water meet the roiling power of the mother of all waters; we crossed the bridge over the river and headed west to the turnout for the beach. Along the one lane road we were greeted by the sight of some deer silhouetted in dark contrast to the lustrous silver light of the moon, it was a vista to take the breath away; the deer, the moon, the rolling hills reaching their bony rock fingers into the massive ocean. And off to the right was the impressive form of Goat Rock.

We stayed at the beach for hours, standing for awhile on the old lumber railway pier, watching the waves crash with mighty blows against the cement outcropping, then sitting on the side of the dunes out of the winds. There we talked, of the past and how it was that we ended up in the places we had, and of the feelings associated with the relationship we had between ourselves and others. After getting wet from the spray on the pier and talking, we decided it was time to get on. The drive back was quiet, each lost in our own thoughts. I could tell that in her heart of hearts she was still feeling the sorrow and anger that I had noticed before. Was there anything that could be done for her? No, I decided, she must do it for herself, just as I must take care of myself when I am disturbed. Her face was not built for discontent, such a thing of beauty and poise deserved only happiness and light, and yet it was not a happy face.

I began thinking of the sensation of sitting next to her on the beach; the wonder of her! And I remembered her as she was, wasp thin waist above beautifully proportioned hips, legs that were built for kissing and a neck that screamed for the affection of a moist tongue. I knew that if anything the years had made her more desirable, and I could not help but wish for a taste of her loveliness. Alas, I thought, it couldn't be. As we pulled into my driveway I was non too delighted to see that somebody had decided that my GTI needed a new paint job. That would have been fine if they had been less creative and left the windows alone. Apparently the windshield wipers got in the way as well, they were bent and twisted away from the window. Angry and depressed over the vandalism, I got back in the truck and sat in silence for awhile, considering who might have done it, and what I was going to do.

While I was brooding she reached over and touched my neck at the base of my hairline, sending a chill down my spine to my toes and back up to my heart. My hand shaking from the strain of my desire, I too reached up and touched her, gently running my fingers through the fine strands of silky hair at the base of her neck. I was delighted by the slight moan of pleasure that escaped her lips. Encouraged, I pulled her close and kissed her deeply, stroking her lips with my tongue and tasting of her sweet scent; I cupped my left hand around her breast and felt the nipple rise underneath as I rubbed my thumb over the material that covered it. Lo and her body trembled and my breath came in gasps, as we embraced my heart ran a race through my nerves and I knew that I wanted her spread before me, naked and open for me to plunge into her erotic depths. After what seemed like forever, and was not enough time, she broke the embrace; I asked what she wanted. She said that she wanted me, but that she wasn't sure if she wanted the consequences of such an action. I waited a time, and responded that I understood that she had to do what she had to do, and that I would really like to make love with her; whatever decision she made I would honor, I would also honor myself by being very clear about what I wanted.

She made her decision, and I was elated when she said, "I will come in." We got out of the truck and hand in hand walked through the cool, dark house to my room. An island of sanity in an ocean of craziness, my room smelled of incense, books, clean air and wax. Though cold it did not seem frigid, as it did in the rest of the house. She laid her purse on a chair and looked around, perhaps unsure of where to start. Her big eyes stared at me in wonder and delight as I moved softly toward her, implacable in my need. I ripped my jacket off and relieved her of hers, and in the process was drawn close enough to smell her feral desire.

I kissed her, long, hard and deep, scorching her lips and tongue with the passion of my mouth, sucking on her tongue and lips, biting them and moaning into her throat. My hands roamed all over her body, pulling her close as I ground my hard cock against her pubis. I grabbed her ass in both hands and thrust against her as we kissed, and she rapped one of her legs around mine in enthusiastic response, grinding herself against me and pushing her pussy against my hardness. I was hyperventilating so badly I was near to fainting. She decided she'd had enough as well, for suddenly she stopped, pulled back and said, "Can we please get naked?"

"Of course," I responded, "I'd love to."

We each proceeded to undress ourselves, watching the other and making soft cooing sounds of appreciation. Until finally we stood naked, and for a moment paused to admire the beautiful physique of the other. I stood at five foot nine inches, 185 pounds, and muscled in a lithe, handsome way, with my penis standing out from my body at rigid attention. She was around five foot four inches tall, with firm breasts and incredibly long nipples, a flat stomach, and an ass that would give a ninety year old paraplegic a hard on. I could see her watching my dick as closely as I was looking at her obviously wet pussy, and we both moved as one to lay down on my bed. She cupped my aching balls in one hand and wrapped the other around my throbbing cock as she seemed to study it intimately, then she plunged her mouth over the head and stuck her tongue into the hole at the tip. Slowly she brought the whole of my prick into her mouth, and out again, and again, until she was moving her mouth and hand up and down my cock in a steady pistonlike motion, all the while holding my balls, pulling on them, squeezing them, and pushing them up to be sucked on. First one, then the other, leaving my pubic hair glistening with her saliva. All this time I had been laying back, enjoying myself by holding and twisting first one nipple, then the other. They were as big around as my pinky, and I loved the way they felt when I pulled on them.

I couldn't wait any longer, I had to please this woman, I had to taste the sweet cunt juices I could feel dripping onto my leg. So when she stopped sucking my cock to take a breather, I gently pushed her aside and rolled on top of her and said, "My turn!"

I started at her face, licking her eyelids, her lips, kissing her and sucking on her tongue. I then had to sample that supple beauty she called a neck, I did so by nibbleing on it and her earlobes, biting a bit too hard to bring the level of sensation up to where she would be unable to control herself.

Her breasts were next, and oh what a delight they were! I grabbed one and stuffed as much of it as I could into my mouth; using my teeth just a little, I slowly slid up her tit until I had her nipple between my teeth. I bit it just so, until I felt her flinch, then I gently, oh so gently licked it as I felt it pucker and become hard, like a little penis trying to fuck my mouth. I bit my way over and continued with more of the same on her other tit, sucking and nibbling for a time. I could tell she wanted me between her legs, so I took my time, moving to the spot between her breasts where her heart could be felt to beat.

She moaned and said that she had dreamt of me doing that, and that she wanted nothing more than to make love to me. I knew that she meant what she said, I also knew that I wanted her pleasure at a fever pitch, so I licked my way down to her damp pussy, where I found the sweetest tasting delight I had ever known.

I began by kissing her inner thighs, and nibbling behind her knees, making her writhe and twist in satisfaction. I teased her by chewing on her cunt lips and licking around her labia, sucking them into my mouth and fondling them with my tongue. I pushed her legs up until her knees were at her shoulders, exposing her asshole and pussy for a closer inspection; I stuck my tongue between her butt cheeks and traced her asshole with saliva, pulled away and blew on her dripping hole. She was shaking so much that I felt mercy and plunged my rigid tongue into her tangy pussy, shoving it as deep as I could. Then I withdrew it, and began to fuck her hole with my tongue, faster and faster, until suddenly I stopped and moved to her clit, which by now was standing proud, waiting to be attended to. I covered her button with my lips and sucked it in very gently, twiddling it with the tip of my tongue, and lapping at it like a cat drinking milk. She tasted so fine I could tell that she cleaned herself on a regular basis; she tasted like pure, unadulterated pussy. I stuck a finger in, reaching up to touch the spot just inside the upper part of her opening, as I massaged it I could feel her muscles contracting around my finger, moving in time with my tongue and the motion of my hand. I loved making her tremble and shudder with the intensity of her delight. Unable to wait any longer, she grabbed me by my hair and pulled me up to kiss her; her juices still on my lips, I reluctantly abandoned my feast.

Lying on top of her I looked into her gorgeous face and saw the look that I remembered, the look that was on her face eight years before. An expression of pure animal longing, a need I know my face showed as well; to be fulfilled and filled with love in its physical form.

Reaching down slowly, she pulled my cock to the opening of her cunt, pushing it inside herself as she thrust her hips against mine, moaning and letting out little screeches of bliss. With a throaty bellow I helped her along and thrust my straining hard-on deep inside her, slamming the tip of my cock against her cervix so that she gasp. And so we began the most ancient dance of all; thrashing about, panting, moaning, yelling for the other to fuck harder, until with a steady grinding of pubic bone against her clit, and the incredible contractions gripping my dick, we came together in a mutual explosion of rapture. I know for myself I came so hard that I blacked out and saw stars for minutes afterward.

After we had rested we continued our parley with pleasure until the earliest hours of the morning, after which we slept in each others arms.

The next morning dawned lucid and beautiful, each of us bright eyed and ready to face the day. We went to have a delicious breakfast at a cafe I knew of on River Road, there we talked quietly, she drank tea, and I drank coffee, until it was time for us to get on with the day.

That was a wonderful interlude, one that be repeated only a few times more. Eventually it was decided that our paths had crossed, but were going in two completely different directions, so we ended up parting as friends, knowing that what we had was a beautiful set of memories to be cherished as rare gems.