Water's Wet Erotica (Seven Stories: Including Virgin to Vixen Series) (5 page)

His mouth plunged back in between my lips
.
T
his time he covered my clit with his mouth and used his
wild
tongue to
flick
at my budding flower.
I screamed. I released a
howl
that I had never heard before. It sounded like a dying animal, but I didn’t care.
I released it out loud and
fierce
.
Nothing had ever felt so intimate, not in my entire life.

My hands flew to the top of his head.
My fingers laced between his thick, wavy hair.
I pulled him closer, if that was even possible. I heard him whisper over my clit, “Good girl, accept my touch, accept my mouth, accept my desire.”

I was in the moment, and so was he.
His mouth circled my sensitive clit repetitiously.
When I felt a welling in my stomach, and I was about to burst, his mouth released that
tender
area
between my thick,
soft
pussy lips and his tongue found my
hole
.
He lapped at the juices that ran down to my ass and
puddle
d on the
sheet
below my butt.

He tried to
catch
it all. He wanted to drink it all. He was in the moment in the same
way
I was and that alone was sending me over the edge. My hands reached up and squeezed my own nipples. My back was arched in an attempt to
shove
my
precious
blossom full of nectar back into his mouth.

He took me again with his mouth.
His wet, soft lips covered my clit.
His tongue flicked it like his tongue was a
boxer
and my clit was the
bag
. His hands gripped my thighs and pushed my legs further apart. When I thought I was
fully
spread
, it still wasn’t enough for him.
He
spread
me
further
. Then, he pushed his face
further
between my legs.

I could feel his lips up and over the top of my pussy lips. His tongue continued to work its magic on my, now ready-to-
burst
clit. My hands were pulling at his hair and then I felt the strangest feeling in my pelvic area. I felt a
pleasure
that kept building and
building
, similar to a
balloon
that is being filled with air. At some point, I know it was going to explode.

That’s exactly what I did. Suddenly, I exploded into tremors and convulsions. My body started to
gyrate
on its own.
I couldn’t
control
my
body
, and I couldn’t control the intensely
odd
noises that had escaped from my mouth.
His tongue kept going and I kept screaming out in
sheer
pleasure
and
ecstasy
.

He did not let up. It seemed to
last
an hour. It was
fierce
and mind-boggling.
It was so
powerful
that when it stopped, it hadn’t
truly
stopped.
I was experiencing earthquake aftershocks that were at least a 5.5 on the Richter scale.

After he finally stopped his sensual assault with his tongue, my body was exhausted, limp. My mind was a
thoughtless
piece of mush. My hands unraveled from his
hair
and dropped to my sides. His mouth stayed locked between my legs while he
licked
up my juices and kissed gently against my swollen clit.

He wouldn’t move. He didn’t leave the
area
between my legs.
I could hear him smelling deep, taking in my
scents
. His lips softly kissed and then alternated with his tongue to
lick
everything between my legs.
At one point, he even ran his tongue
down to
my asshole and settled there for a
minute
while his nose was buried just a
bit
inside my hole.

I was tired, or perhaps languid was the word. I was floating. I had never experienced anything as
pleas
urable as that first orgasm. I needed
rest
. I knew better than to push him
away
or let him know that I was ready to
close
my legs. He wouldn’t
allow
me to do that. I would be scolded for not allowing every moment to
consume
me.

Therefore, I relaxed my body, closed my eyes behind the blindfold and let the warmth of his mouth and softness of his tongue cradled my sense of security while I closed my eyes
to
rest
.

I awoke with a start. I was
warm
, tucked into my own bed with my pajamas on. I
quickly
sat up and looked around my room.

“How in the hell did I
get
here
? What’s going on?”

I felt like
I was
in
an episode of
The
Twilight Zone
. I was mystified,
scared
and skeptical. What if I had
experienced
nothing
more than a wet dream?
What if everything
that
I thought happened last night, didn’t actually happen?
I felt like the universe was out of kilter.

“There has to be something left behind.”
I stood and walked outside my bedroom door, to see if everything
was
normal
in my house.
I could hear Mom and Dad arguing in the kitchen, as usual. Everything seemed to be exactly how I left it the night before.

“How did I get home?” My mind was racing. I needed answers. Where was my
stranger
? Where was the man who took me up and over the top with pleasure?
It did happen, didn’t it?
Suddenly, the night began to evaporate into the surreal, like a dream. But it couldn’t be a dream. I didn’t want it to be a dream!

I went back into my bedroom and sat on my bed. I reached under my nightgown and inside my cotton panties. Nothing felt different. Tears welled up in my eyes. I needed to know
that my night of
pleasure
did,
in fact
, happen.
I needed a
sign
.
Anything.

I glanced around my room, but my eyes stopped when I looked at my sandals on the floor. I tilted my head as I stared at a small single daisy flower that lay inside my shoe. I gasped. My heart began to
pound
out of control. I was scared, yet excited at the same time.
Proof!
The night was r
eal!

Jubilant, I walked over and picked up the
flower
. Attached to it was a small white, folded paper. I brought the
flower
to my nose and smelled the same
scent
that I had smelled when my
stranger
put the flower to my nose while I had been blindfolded. I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply. A small remainder of a tingle darted between my legs. The smell of that flower brought back the memory of the night as if I were going through it again.

My hands trembled when I realized that he had brought me home, put me in bed and left the flower behind.
How did he get past my parents?
Who was he? Would I ever see him again?
There were so many questions that I needed answered. I unfolded the piece of paper and inside was handwritten: ‘
Until we meet again.
’
What did that mean? When would I meet him again?

Right now, however, I was basking in the warmth of the memory of his soft touch. His hands were big and strong. His mouth was soft and warm. He was a stranger who had taken the time to touch me and pleasure me without asking for anything in return. I wondered if my family would notice the difference in me. I was now more of a woman and I was
ready to experience more. I realized that there was just one serious problem: I wanted
more
with the one man who I knew nothing about.
Not even his name.
           

Two weeks ago, I had never been touched. At nineteen years old, I had never touched myself nor had anyone touched me, but two weeks ago, all that had changed. A stranger had approached me in a sex club and whispered in my ear. With my consent, he’d blindfolded me. Once I could not see him, he had run his strong hands up my thigh and eventually placed his warm, wet mouth on my drenched clam. His mouth and tongue had taken me to a place I had never been; his mouth eventually threw me into a fit of convulsions and spasms as I’d experienced my first orgasm, a naked blindfolded virgin on the floor of a sex club.

I never saw his face during that encounter. I had no idea who he was, but I would
recognize
his voice if I heard it. I would be able to recall the smell of his sweet breath and the
touch
of his strong hands. He had taught me to
reach
down inside myself and let go of my inhibitions from my repressed upbringing. He’d taught me to
appreciate
the pleasures that another human being could show me. And then, he had disappeared.

My parents did not seem to
notice
any difference in me. I thought, for sure, they would be able to see that I had been
soiled
by another person. That my virgin clitoris had been aroused to the point of orgasm, but that was not the case. They ignored me like they always did. I was okay with that because I had the memories of my mystery
man
to keep me warm at night. But sometimes, the memories were not enough. Sometimes, I prayed for his
touch
just one last time.

Several nights after that evening at the club, I tried to recreate the euphoria that he brought upon me. I reclined in bed in my flannel pajamas and pulled my blankets over my head.
I slid my hand into my panties and found the
place
that he
had
so carefully
and expertly
pleasured. I allowed my fingers to
touch
that area that
had
made me quiver.
I closed my eyes and tried to imagine his deep voice and warm
breath
on the back of my ear.
But it was
useless
and
I didn’t seem to know how to touch me the way he had. A
fter thirty minutes of trying
to find a technique that worked
, my hand was tired, and my pussy was
numb
.
I exhaled
deeply
and closed my eyes
,
wishing
that I
was there with
him, wherever “there” was
.
It seemed impossible to duplicate the delicious sensations that he had so expertly created with his mouth, his hands, and his tongue.

I was startled from my sleep when I heard the sound of sirens blast through my bedroom window. That was a familiar sound in the part of Los Angeles where I lived. Therefore, I thought nothing of it and laid my head back down to sleep. It wasn’t until a few seconds later when I realized that my
sheer
curtain was blowing from the open window in my room.
I never left my window open.
I would never do that in my neighborhood.
I sat up quickly and pulled up the blankets to my neck. A spurt of adrenaline surged through me.
I was not alone.

My eyes searched around my room, but
the degree of darkness surrounding me left my eyes
useless
. I knew that he was there. I could feel his presence.
But, I wanted to be sure it was him, so I closed my eyes and allowed my other senses to take over.
I could smell his cologne. Although the
scent
was
faint
and almost nonexistent, it was there.

He was breathing heavier than usual. I could hear him inhale and exhale from where he stood kitty-corner to my bed.
He was standing in the corner, and although I couldn’t see him, I could feel his
strong, sensual
presence.
Naturally, my legs spread open a little. I knew that he could see me from
the moonlight that streamed through the window. He could see me, but I could not see him. My body was trembling.