5 comments/ 34101 views/ 10 favorites Lessons from a Pseudonym By: MaxSebastian 1 Zoe had been with her boyfriend, Matthew, for about six months or so when it all changed. Their relationship had begun in the first week of university – they had lived in neighbouring flats in the Central Halls of Residence, and the entire block of freshers had had one long week of drunken debauchery to celebrate getting to tertiary education. She’d not been sober all week – and neither had he - so she had an extra inebriated confidence on top of that given to her by her fairly easy upbringing. She had flirted with him all week, doing everything possible to catch his attention – being as close to him as possible as frequently as possible, touching him whenever she could get away with it, always smiling whenever he looked at her, that sort of thing. He wasn’t shy in normal social situations, but when it came to women, he was almost timid. He just didn’t pick up the signs – even her accidental-on-purpose spilling of her drink all over him one evening, he’d simply put down to her drunken state. She was very annoyed by the end of the week, and was forced to try out a new strategy. Calculating the right moment, she ‘let slip’ to one of her flatmates that she was interested in him. Her flatmate, Sophie, later let slip the information to him. They had been at the end of the final evening’s pub crawl at the time, and she’d watched across the crowded room as Sophie, a guaranteed gossip, had genuinely accidentally told him who fancied him. She saw him through the corner of her eye blushing as he learned of the news, and she made certain she wasn’t looking at him when he turned to look at her. Bless him, he’d been at a boys’ school for the last five years, he didn’t know how to handle the opposite sex. He may have had a girlfriend or two in his time, but he hadn’t had enough to be fully confident in the circumstances. He didn’t know what to do. Zoe had bided her time carefully after that, casually sipping her drinking and half immersing herself in conversation with other drunken first years. But her mind was on Matt, who she wanted to walk home with that night. And, naturally, she did just that. The end of the evening came, the bar staff kicked them all out, and she stumbled over to him, almost falling into his arms. “Matt, will you walk me home?” she asked, holding onto him as if to keep from collapsing in the street. “Uh…” he said, his cheeks flushing a little – interest? She hoped so. “Uh…sure, Zoe.” When they got to her door, she reached for him again, but this time he also made a move, and they were kissing before their hearts took another heavy beat. It was a kiss of such fiery passion that it ignited her entire body, and as he held her head, gently exploring her lips with his, the chemistry was irresistible between them. They broke apart eventually, and she went inside her flat, waving him a seductive goodbye to him as the door closed between them. She didn’t want things to move too quickly, and saw in his slightly dazed, star-struck expression that he understood. But that night when she undressed, she had to change her panties before bed since she was so wet, and while drifting off to sleep, recalling the hardness pushing at her through his trousers, she couldn’t wait for their relationship to progress. With almost military planning, she allowed him to go further and further each night, then at the end of the second week they’d known each other, she allowed him the full way. He was, she had to say, a wonderful lover. His touch was delicate but firm, his body finely tuned through years of school sports, his mouth sensitive and immensely kissable. He was always clean and smelled fresh and slightly exotic, and his dress sense wasn’t too bad, fitting in with her own fairly wealthy lifestyle. She loved his company, too, and his quiet yet well-informed conversation, not to mention his easy, quirky sense of humour. She knew for a fact that this was a man she wanted to stick with, whether or not her parents approved of his less than millionaire status. In her experience, the way men liked their women was for them to lie on their backs and look as though they were enjoying every second. So her love-making tended to concentrated to a fair amount on the missionary position, and although she did have the occasional orgasm, she made sure his pleasure was always the most important factor. That, as it turned out, was her fundamental error. They got through countless boxes of condoms in those first few weeks before she had decided to go on the pill, but the lust in their relationship eventually quietened down, and around the end of March, they seemed to sleep with each other only once or twice a week. It seemed to her – and judging by the occasional comment from her friends, everyone else as well – that the two of them were a ‘couple’, which meant their lust stage was mostly over. In fact, sometimes Zoe felt they were verging on being a middle-aged couple. The night it all took off, she was actually wondering if they had a future together, whether it was all worth going on with. She thought of telling him that it was all over, but such a thought brought tears to her eyes – the kind of tears that made her nose itch and seemed to spark an explosion of pain, desperation and deep sadness. He was hers, and she felt that she couldn’t do without him. She loved feeling that she was wanted by him – every day as she sat in lectures, she had it in the back of her mind that she would get home and could relax in his arms with that familiar, seductive scent he wore saturating the air she breathed. She tried to dispel the thoughts of ever ending their relationship while she had a shower. They were going out for the standard pubbing and clubbing experience of a student Friday night, and as ever, she wanted to look perfect – for Matt as well as for her reputation. But she could get ready almost on autopilot, and that left her able to really think about things. She showered, making herself spotless – and with a razor, hairless in all the right places – and decided that giving him up wasn’t the answer. After all, all couples would go through fallow patches of their love lives. They couldn’t sleep with each other every night now – that wasn’t the way it worked. Lust was a flame that burned brightly at the beginning and then settled into a steady smoulder, wasn’t it? No, she should just try to cope with it, realise that he still wanted her, still loved being with her, but that lust was no longer number one priority. As she got out of the shower and dried herself, her heart lifted – didn’t Matt still seem to be extremely happy whenever she was around? Perhaps it was a good thing that sex was no longer the only thing supporting the relationship. They were companions, and companions had more chance of staying together than just sex partners. But as she dried her long blonde hair with her hair drier, then dressed while standing in front of the full length mirror, there was still that small doubt in the back of her mind that Matt would do what every other man in her experience had – move on when the initial lust quietened. She went over to his flat with that uncertainty in her head – what if it wasn’t up to her if the relationship was strong enough to cope with the slowdown of their sex lives? What if he had already made the decision to drop her and was waiting for the perfect moment? Her heart was in her mouth and her hands were cold yet clammy as her knock on her neighbouring flat was answered. “Matt, it’s Zoe!” Matt’s flatmate Jeff ushered her into the flat. “He’s running a little late,” he explained, “he’s in the bathroom.” She nodded and smiled at Jeff – who, dressed in just a pair of boxers, was running a little late himself. She went through to Matt’s bedroom, and passing the bathroom, the door opened. Matt was in there, and as she looked through the open door, she saw that he was naked. “I’m just hopping into the shower,” he said, his mouth full of toothpaste foam, “go through to my room if you like.” “Shut the door!” she said, “people will see you!” But as she headed through to his room and heard him close the door, she smiled to herself – she’d seen his beautifully sized penis clearly stirring at the knowledge that she was looking at it. That was a distinct sign that he was still sexually interested in her. She continued on to his room, which was as messy as any normal male student’s quarters, but at least it didn’t smell of old socks. She sat on his bed and waited. By the sounds of things, Matt’s four flatmates were all in various stages of lateness, tearing about all over the place looking for things they needed for a good night out. It was while boredom was creeping into her, that something caught her eye. Matt’s computer was on, and something had flashed up on the screen. She looked at it – clearly his email. She looked closer, and found that it was an email from a female. Fear, pain and a little anger ripped through her body – had Matt been cheating on her? Curiosity got the better of her, she had to find out more. She wouldn’t get another chance to find out, either, since Matt probably wouldn’t accidentally give her access to his email account again. But was it prying into his privacy too much? Hell, ‘Rachael’, whoever she was, would probably turn out to be a cousin or something. And if all was innocent, it wouldn’t be harmful to just quickly click on his email and read it. A quick look outside in the corridor, and it sounded as though Matt had just stepped into the shower. In her experience, Matt took pretty long showers. She’d have time. Closing the bedroom door to make sure his flatmates didn’t find out, she leaned over the keyboard, grabbed the mouse and double clicked on the new message. -------------------------------------------------- I just wanted to let you know that I *really* enjoyed your new story 'Venetian Nights' on literotica.com :) It definitely got my juices flowing. Keep up the wonderful work ;) -Rachael -------------------------------------------------- What was this? Did he know this person, Rachael? And was that about a story? She looked at the return email address, and saw that it was ‘feedback@literotica.com’ – from the very website that apparently held the story referred to in the message. The only answer was to leave Matt’s email as it was, as though she’d never looked at it, and open up the internet browser to check out what this website was all about. She got through to the website and found a vast array of erotic stories on offer. The thought of reading erotic fiction made her blush. Did people really like this stuff? She found a search box and typed in ‘Venetian Nights’. If Matt was up to something with this site, she wanted to know what it was. It came up, with an author name ‘MattSimon’. Simon was Matt’s middle name, so that was explained fairly clearly to her. So, he was a secret writer in his spare time. Hmm… She started to read the story, and to her surprise, found that it really wasn’t too badly written. In fact, it was one of the most amazing stories she had ever read – not because it was a work of literary genius: it clearly wasn’t – but because of the response in her that it provoked. As she read on, she found feelings of arousal awakening in her that she had never ever felt while reading before. Usually, such feelings took a sustained period without any sex and a stimulus like the sight of a really hot man to make her feel that way. And it was undoubtedly Matt’s writing. She recognised the syntax that he used, the certain turn of phrase every now and then that was part and parcel of his character, certain words that only he would use in a situation. But it wasn’t the Matt she knew. It was so amazingly sexual, so overtly erotic – it wasn’t like Matt to share his real thoughts about the process that was going on whenever they made love. Because this story was about them making love – the female depicted in the tale was clearly her, described in detail from top to toe from her long blonde hair down to her elegantly painted toenails. And she felt fire between her legs at what he really thought about her. If she had had any doubt about him before, this dispelled any thoughts she may have had that he no longer found her sexually attractive. But it also made her realise something fairly significant in their relationship, because the story didn’t describe the reality of any of their sexuality. It was really quite different to what she’d been doing with him. She would have to figure out what it was. She managed to read most of the story and scan the rest before she heard the door of the bathroom being unlocked. When she clicked on her boyfriend’s pseudonym, there was a list of his other stories. There were a fair few, too, with some pretty enticing titles. She would save that for another occasion, though. By the time she had closed down the internet browser and jumped back onto Matt’s bed, grabbing the two day old newspaper from the floor to make it look as though she’d been reading it, her life had changed. Matt was none the wiser for her snooping on his email, and he continued the mad rush to put on some clothes before they headed out. Sitting on the bed, watching him dressing, she saw him differently now. He was even more amazing, because she knew how besotted he was with her. And when she had a moment in the future, she’d go looking at more of her secret writer’s tales. By the time he was dressed, Zoe was very wet between her legs. If she hadn’t put on her liberal amount of perfume – which she knew from Matt’s story, he absolutely adored – she would be worried that he’d detect the scent of her strong arousal. That night, she’d never been so horny in a long time – since, in fact, those first wonderful few weeks of their relationship. And after they got back from the club, he’d gone with her into her flat, into her room, and they’d made love four times before he finally went off to sleep. He’d obviously been really turned on by her evident sexuality that night, because he’d asked her to let him go down between her legs and taste her. But she said no, as she usually had whenever he had wanted to please her. She felt better knowing that he was inside her and she was making him feel wonderful, so she had urged him to move up and slide his rigid mass between her slick pussy lips and make love to her. 2 In the morning, Matt had got up fairly early, since he had to prepare himself for that afternoon’s rugby match. She was half asleep when he went, but remembered him kissing her goodbye on the lips, and beamed a broad smile in her semi-consciousness, knowing that she was very much a wanted girl. She woke up a couple of hours later, glorying in the fact that she didn’t have to get up for ages, and had a wonderfully leisurely Saturday to look forward to. She stretched the sleep from her petite frame and yawned deeply. She could smell the traces of his scent, and smiled, remembering his goodbye kiss – and the night before. Remembering that particular part of the night made her tingle between her thighs, and a sudden jolt of excitement swept out from her chest as she recalled the erotic fiction website and Matt’s stories on it. She put a t-shirt on, making her feel a little less vulnerable, but only that t-shirt. She turned her computer on and then locked her door. As the machine booted up, she felt as though she could do anything she wanted in the locked privacy of her own room. Her heart rate soared as she eventually got through to the website again, and to the list of stories by her boyfriend, ‘MattSimon’. Using her right hand to move the mouse, she started on the stories, which were quite long and detailed, and were mostly situations of perfect lovemaking between the hero and the perfect woman, who always seemed to be the likeness of her. Her left hand drifted down between her legs where she was dripping with moisture – some of which, she was thrilled to realise, was Matt’s emissions from the night before. His words were incredible, springing from the page to burn through her pussy and up through her spine. She came a few times, in fact – the first time she’d done that to herself for a long, long time – before it dawned on her the fundamental difference between these stories and the reality of their love-making. In Matt’s stories, most of the time was taken up by describing foreplay, the kissing and touching, the caressing and squeezing – and not to forget the licking and the tasting. In fact in most of the stories, the actual penetration – which had formed the real focal point of their love making in the real world – was treated as the icing on the cake, the important but not all-dominating part of the entire performance of male and female. In fact, the way Matt had it, the male in the story always seemed to hold the pleasure of the female in higher regard to his own release, and the female was always made to come at least once before the final ride. And Matt really seemed to enjoy having his face between a woman’s legs – the way he described it had Zoe soon with two of her fingers buried in her wetness, rising to a huge wave of intense pleasure. So, the big question: if she were to actually follow Matt’s fantasies a little more, would he try to get her into bed a little more often in future? She would have to try, that was sure. That night, with Matt going out drinking with his team mates, Zoe had a night with the girls, which involved drinking but not dancing, since no one was up for it after the fairly heavy time the night before. All night, she couldn’t get her mind off what she had learned that day. She had made note of the variations from her usual missionary position that Matt described, and all night, wondered what it would be like giving Matt what he had always wanted – but had been too shy to ask for, even with their closeness and trust. Returning home, she regretted bitterly that it was a rugby night, because it was the night she most wanted him to sleep with her. She fumbled the key in the lock and ended up dropping it – she had to admit, she was a little worse for the Long Island Iced Teas she’d been having in the latter part of the evening. She stooped to reach for the key on the ground, and was surprised when she stood back up to find herself enveloped by a pair of arms. “Hello gorgeous,” Matt said, and she could smell the beer on his breath. “Matt,” she said, fighting to keep her dignity and not reveal the real excitement that she felt, “what are you doing back so early? It’s only one o’clock.” “Well…we lost,” he said, a note of gloom in his voice. He had been drinking, there was no doubt about that, but she could tell he hadn’t had as much as normal for a post-rugby night. “So…you know…” “Can I try and make you feel better?” she asked, him, unlocking the door as she did so. “Uh…yeah…if you don’t mind being with a loser.” “Come on,” she said, pulling him inside her flat, “you’ll never be a loser in my eyes.” She led him to her room as quickly as she could, her heart pounding within her chest, eagerly anticipating her new direction in love making. She wouldn’t hurry him or urge him inside her this time – she would let him do whatever he wanted, encouraging him not to slide inside her, but to spend more time on other things. By the time they got into her room, she was shivering with excitement: if this all went to plan, and those stories that had got that woman Rachael’s juices flowing were really written by Matt, then things were about to change. She recalled that first story of his that she’d read, ‘Venetian Nights’, about a couple of strangers who met when they were travelling to Venice and ended up booking into the same room together in one of the most beautiful cities in the world. Unlike Zoe, the heroine of the story hadn’t shed her clothes as soon as possible, but had allowed him to take them off one by one. Lessons from a Pseudonym So standing there in her room, she followed the lessons of his pseudonym and only helped him to take off his garments, leaving his boxer shorts on to keep his dignity, giving him the pleasure of removing her clothes. They kissed, their mouths coming together with that same chemical bond that they had always had while kissing – something about their relationship that clearly hadn’t changed. But she didn’t rush him, and he held her head gently in his strong hands, his fingers moving through her silky golden hair as he explored her mouth with his. It seemed like an age that he just kissed her, moving those soft lips all over hers, taking them into his mouth then teasing her with his tongue. She felt giddy as he held her, quivering with nervous excitement, the same kind that she had felt at the very beginning of the relationship before she’d known and trusted him. Because it was as though they had stepped back to their early relationship again: she honestly didn’t know what he was going to do with her, and that really sent shockwaves of anticipation through her system. They continued kissing as she felt his hands reach up under her top, to stroke the velvety skin of her stomach and move up to gently massage her breasts through her silk bra. She moaned quietly as his fingers found the hardened nubs of her nipples pressing through the underwear, and began to pinch them and squeeze them through the silk. She held the back of his neck, pressing her lips against his, but as the feelings in her chest grew steadily more intense, her hands began to wander down over his shoulders, down his arms until she could stroke his beautifully erect penis through his underwear. The alarm clock at the side of her bed seemed to slow down, in fact time itself seemed to decelerate, as they went about exploring their bodies in a deliberate, lingering manner, not giving in to the urgency of their biological craving. Matt sat down on the edge of the bed, removing her top so that he could then kiss around her tummy, and as his lips moved downwards towards the waistline of her jeans, she felt her pussy almost crackle with arousal, wondering if he would want to go through with his written longing to sink his head between her legs. But he teased her, always kissing his way back up her stomach to the bottom of her bra, rubbing his forehead against her confined breasts. His hands moved down her back, pulling her to his mouth as he kissed her, before sinking down to seek out the rise of her behind, squeezing it cheekily while looking up and sharing her smile. Then his hands swept around her hips and were pressing between her legs, feeling just how hot she was down there, and how her juices even soaked through to the heavy material of her jeans. Did it turn him on knowing how wet she was? It had seemed to in his stories. One thing she did do to help him was to kick off her shoes as he fumbled at her fly button. Eventually, still in his slow motional approach, he gradually pulled her jeans down over her hips – kissing down her abdomen as he progressed – to reveal first the waistband and then more and more of her black silk thongs, the skimpy, sexy kind of panties that she knew from his prose really kept him at full attention. He continued to move her jeans down, trailing his face down her body as he did so, never losing contact. He stroked his mouth and nose over the black silk of her underwear, seeming to enjoy the texture against his face as he breathed in her scent that must have been getting stronger and stronger for him as her jeans moved past her warm, damp mound to reveal the full wetness of her silk covered pussy. He diverted his mouth away from her mound and kissed down her thigh as he pushed her jeans further down until she could do nothing but step out of them. “You are spectacularly beautiful,” he said, his words very slightly slurred from the booze, but she couldn’t help reflecting his glorious smile. She felt him moving upwards again, and placed her hands on his head as he moved up to her soaking panties again, trailing his mouth and nose painstakingly slowly down from her waist to get closer and closer to her mound, then down over it where her underwear was increasingly more and more saturated with her juices. It was all a bit of a lesson. In the past, she’d always been slightly ashamed at the odour of her arousal, which no matter how clean she was before having sex, always seemed to come through again. It had made her feel uneasy if ever her boyfriends’ heads got too close to her crotch, and on the few occasions she allowed them to go down on her, she had never been able to really enjoy it since she felt so very apprehensive about what they thought of her flavour or her aroma. She’d always halted their pursuits after a brief time because she didn’t want to feel they were just trying to please her and having to endure the nature of her emissions as they did so. But in Matt’s stories – the ones she’d managed to read, so far, anyway – he seemed to love the smell and the taste, writing about how it turned him on and drove him to maximise the exposure of her arousal to his senses in whatever way possible. So she had realised that his little moans were genuine pleasure on his part, not put on to try and make her feel better, and that made her relax as his hot mouth approached her sopping silk covered pussy. He spent a while just stroking her drenched panties with the tip of his nose, pressing it into her hot slit and against her swollen clitoris through the silk. Her legs trembled when she felt his hot tongue pressing against her thongs, the heat easily felt through the thin material as he trailed it around her mound and then in ever decreasing circles to focus on her pussy and her little hardened button. After a long while, he looked up at her and she withdrew her hands from his head. “You really are the most divine creature,” he said, and she really felt that he meant it, the happiness blooming inside her like a full English rose. “Can you lie down on the bed?” he asked, and she was only too willing to do so, noticing the dark circle that had appeared in the front of his boxers – the wetness of his pre-come that had seeped from the top of his hard penis. The sight made her feel even better, since it was a real sign that she really was turning him on. She was on fire as she lay back on that bed, and he lay between her thighs. He reached up and briefly kissed her lips, before slipping down to savour her breasts. She felt his smouldering hardness pressing down on her pussy, and would have dearly loved too have felt it slide underneath her thongs to delve inside her, but that wasn’t what this was all about for her that night. “Are you all right?” he asked her, perhaps finding it odd that she hadn’t urged him to cut to the chase already. “Oh yes,” she purred, “very much so.” Then, much as she was enjoying his teasing of her tender nipples with his lips and that dexterous tongue of his, she did something she’d never done before, something she now felt certain he wouldn’t object to, something she’d seen in a few of the stories she’d read. Very gently, she pushed his head downwards, not forcing him, but clearly showing him what she wanted. He looked up at her then, one of his eyebrows raised in a slightly puzzled fashion. He seemed to have sobered up, too. He wasn’t entirely sure that she meant what he hoped she meant, so he started kissing around her tummy again. But she pressed down slightly on his head once again, and he looked into her hungry eyes and smiled, revealing his exhilaration at being allowed to continue with his oral exploration of her most intimate area. He pushed her legs apart as his face came down to her crotch, and planted kisses all around the tops of her thighs, again stroking her black silk thongs and teasing her along the edge of her underwear with his lips and tongue, occasionally nudging the material aside to get tantalisingly close to the centre of her sensitivity. He took it all incredibly slowly, his appreciative noises just adding to her arousal, and she was amazed at just how wet and sticky she was becoming. She wished she’d found out about Matt’s real desires earlier in their relationship, but when he started peeling her panties down her mound, she knew it wasn’t worth regretting: the future was all that was important now. She noticed the aroma of her arousal seemed to intensify as he removed her underwear and again that doubt crept into her mind. Did he really like that? One day, she’d be interested to know why. “Oh my God,” was all she could say as his hot, nicely textured tongue touched her clit and the top of her labia, and for the first time she could really let go and have no worries about how he was taking the experience. With her mind not thinking about how best to get him out of there while retaining as much dignity as possible, it was free to relish the unbelievable sensations racing through her body. He began very delicately, tentatively kissing along her pussy lips, and his hot breath provoked electric sensations on her tender flesh. He brushed his face through her sprinkling of soft golden down and then trailed his tongue down along each of her outer labia before slipping inside briefly to taste her concentrated juices. Then he was away again, teasing her with that brief glimmer of promise for the real heat of his mouth upon her. She felt his hands sweep up her thighs and then his fingers gently at her outer pussy lips. Gently, tenderly, he parted her pink folds and then he slowly licked down until his tongue was buried deep within her, her labia now pressing either side of his mouth and her burning clit pressing irresistibly against his nose. She was amazed at how deep he could tongue her, and how his tongue really worked to absorb her emissions, making little slurpy noises now and again as he ravished her. Then he concentrated a while on her clit, and her hard little button was engulfed by his hot, wet mouth, his tongue swirling around it to drive her wild. He coated two fingers in her juices by just rolling them against her dripping pussy, and then easily slid them inside her as he continued to lightly suck her clit in his mouth and flick his tongue against it. She couldn’t help but moan and writhe a little under his treatment, feeling his fingers squirming inside her, brushing against her most sensitive spot, seeking out every possible part of her sexuality as his superb mouth continued to indulge her clitoral needs in the most satisfying way imaginable. Soon she was heading up that giddy road to the first real explosion of sensation within her. The rising pitch of her moans, becoming near-screams as she released her feelings verbally, indicated to him where she was headed. At the final peak of her first wave, he withdrew his fingers and once more buried his tongue inside her vagina, and it was the first time she ever came into someone’s mouth. As she pulsated with pure electricity, he lapped up her streaming syrup, clearly revelling her coming into his mouth. She held onto his head, pressing him into her, moving him to that perfect spot for the moment. When eventually that entire fireball between her legs dissipated, and he lapped up the final little rivulet of her arousal, he moved up beside her and her entire body felt weak and giddy from what had just happened. He drew up level with her, and she turned to kiss him full on the mouth, if anything so that she could taste what he had just tasted. His mouth was still strongly flavoured with her juices, and it was an interesting thing to experience – salty, tangy, musky, spicy: she didn’t really enjoy it herself, but mostly because she knew it was from her own pussy. “You really like doing that to me?” she asked as one of her hands wound its way down to stroke and squeeze his magnificent penis. “I absolutely love it,” he smiled, then closed his eyes and moaned as she gripped his shaft tightly. “Mmm…” she said, “no one’s ever done it for me like that…but I don’t see why you like it – most men really don’t.” He kissed her underneath her earlobe and attempted to dispel her puzzled expression, “I love it because when my head is between your legs, the centres of my senses are right there, in contact with the most personal part of your body.” As he spoke, his fingers dropped down to caress her pussy and brush against her clit. His soft words drove her wild again: “It’s the most wonderful position for me to be in – I can touch your soft wetness, taste your succulent juices, smell your perfume mixing with your arousal, hear your response to my being there, look all the way up your incredibly beautiful body and see you react to me when I explore the intimacy between us. You really turn me on, Zoe.” And she came again as his fingers delved deeply inside her, her vagina pulsating with pleasure that threatened to completely overwhelm her. She was highly surprised – no one had ever made her come by just talking to her, and besides that, she had never come twice without even a cock passing her pussy lips. “Oh Matt, you really are amazing,” she said in barely more than a whisper. Now it was her turn: she knew from Matt’s stories that though he wanted her to let him really explore her body, he wouldn’t want her just to lie back and think of England, as she often had in the past. Time for something new. She kissed his lips again, grinning like a Cheshire cat, the straddled his chest, facing his feet. She rubbed her wet pussy down his chest and stomach, stifling a giggle as his soft chest hair tickled her tender pink folds. She gripped his body between her thighs and pressed his huge, blood-filled manhood against her pussy and her clitoris. She gyrated her hips and held his erection tightly against her heat with her soft hands, and for a while, just ground him against her pussy, basking in the wonderful contact between them. Then she lifted herself and positioned the tip of his penis at her entrance, and slowly, she sank down onto his exquisite staff, moaning as she felt him fill her completely. She felt his hands hold her narrow waist and he moaned, “God, Zoe, you feel incredible.” She leaned forwards, her long blonde hair dropping down to his feet as she pulled his knees up to support her, letting them press against her soft breasts as they held her. And she knew he had a superb view of his cock, glistening with her juices, gliding in and out of her pussy as she began to ride him, her legs spread so that her knees held his thighs together and her thighs and calves clung tightly to his sides. After a while, her pace having accelerated, she sat up, pushed his knees down, then leaned back to lie down on his chest, her head resting on his shoulder. She kept moving her hips, and he was able to move his in time to heighten the contact between his tantalising penis and her eager vagina. “I love being inside you,” he whispered into her ear, “you’re so tight, so wet and so incredibly hot.” “Touch me,” she urged him, lifting one of his hands to her breast and the other hand between her legs to press it under her hand against her swollen bud. She moaned as he began to massage her breasts, his fingers sprawling from one rise to the other, brushing past one nipple then its twin, circling them in his palm a while before focusing in with his fingers, pinching and squeezing them while down below, his manhood slid inside her and withdrew, the connection between them the most excruciating pleasure. Matt kissed her cheek and rubbed his face against hers as her breathing deepened again and her moaning got louder, and as he began to feel her moving towards a third crest, the speed of his finger swishing around her clitoris accelerated until she was no longer moaning, but emitting a series of frantic yelps as the pad of his middle finger quivered against her little button. And that third final rise to the top was the most intense yet, and she just knew she wouldn’t be able to handle anything afterwards. Matt’s hands moved to her hips so he could concentrate on pushing his engorged cock deep inside her. They rolled over as one, and she nearly screamed, “oh Matt, fuck me…fuck me…please…” And with him on top of her back, she felt it finally overwhelm her, the intense pleasure making her cry out as the explosion tore through her from where his huge cock pumped into her ravenous pussy from behind, all the way up to where he held her breasts tightly in his hands, using them to pull himself deep inside her, where his erection – so hot within her – began to quake and then erupted to fill her with his burning oil. The two of them collapsed, the feelings taking every ounce of strength from their bodies so that they could only roll over onto their sides, recovering without breaking connection, their breathing taking an age and a half to return to relative normality as they spooned on the bed, his softening penis still within her. And when Zoe finally drifted off to sleep in his arms, his soft praise still in her ears, she knew that she would be returning to his stories to find out everything about what really turned him on, and one day perhaps, she could even start trying to express her fantasies in words, too.