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Choral Evenings Pt. 01

By: TonyDowse



Chapter 1

An antagonistically expensive divorce, which had ended fifteen years of a childless and increasingly emotionless marriage - and which had then seen a good half of my hard-earned assets paid off to my wife, and another chunk to the assorted lawyers - had left me in a very poor position when starting to think about where and how I should begin to make a new life for myself.

Clearly a house of the proportions we had shared in a reasonably desirable suburb was right out of the question. Then those I viewed in the less affluent sections of town all seemed to have major flaws in either their location, design, or value - and it was with ever decreasing confidence that I extended my search for options even wider. But then, quite by chance, I happened to pass through a portion of the furthest outer reaches of the ever-expanding city, which was in the process of converting what had once been market gardens, into rather tackily built housing developments.

Obviously one such house was definitely not for me! But, on the outskirts of what had once been the actual village centre, I saw a charming, if run-down and weather-beaten stone cottage.

In addition to farming crops for the then nearby city, the village had also been the centre for the quarrying and distribution of much of the sandstone that had originally built it, and most of the village's civic buildings were still built from that stone - as was what I quickly began to think of as 'my cottage'.

I was pleasantly surprised to find that, as there was quick and easy access to the Freeway, my drive to work would be not much more than twenty or so minutes longer than it had previously been - so I bought the place. Then, with the help of some of the still available local tradesmen, began the necessarily extensive renovations and internal modernisations - an outdoor, and extremely uncomfortable, 'bucket' toilet in something resembling a small garden shed may be considered either 'heritage' or 'quaint', but...

Having lived there for a year or so I had not only made the cottage an extremely comfortable place in which to live, but had begun the process of getting to know my neighbours and at least a few of the more frequently seen village residents, many of whom were, like myself, fairly new arrivals. But, never having been a particularly gregarious character, the actual friendships I had begun to tentatively form, were few in number, and none of those that were in fact female, were also what one might consider potentially beddable ones. 

As a result of which, my sex-life, which had grown both increasingly infrequent and inadequate during the failing years of my marriage, actually became non-existent... 

So when I went to do a little shopping in the village on a Saturday morning I was not expecting to experience too much excitement - and didn't. However, before heading home I decided to treat myself to a decent cup of coffee and picked up a copy of the local newspaper as something to read whilst sipping it. Apart from those occasions when I was looking for a particular type of tradesman I normally barely scanned it, but with a little more time on my hands I flicked the pages rather more slowly than usual - and if I hadn't done so I might have missed the one thing that could very well end up completely changing my life!

It wasn't a particularly large or prominent advertisement; in fact it was more of a simple announcement than the usual commercial entreaty - an announcement of the programme of the local music society. And, although music has always been one of my favourite relaxations, it was only the name of one particular piece that for some strange reason actually caught my eye.

Stanford's 'Te Deum' had been an anthem I had sung several times in the days when I had been a boy-chorister, and it had made such an impression on me that I not only still classified it as one of my favourite pieces of religious music, but even though it had been many, many years since I had last heard it, I found I could in fact still hum most of it.

So from there, to buying a ticket for the performance was no more than one quick phone call once I was home again, and in the intervening days I found I was beginning to quite look forward to making my first real foray out into the village's social life.

On the night of the concert I got home in time to grab a bite to eat, then showered and changed before strolling leisurely down to the village hall, which, much to my surprise, had already been filling quite rapidly. In fact so much so that as I wanted to be reasonably close to the source of the sound, I found I was forced to find a seat well over to one side.

The opening was made by a purely male voice choir, which, for a local and purely amateur grouping, proved to be remarkably good. That was followed by several soloists; young people either in their last year at school, or in their first year at the city's Music Academy, and at least a couple of them showed truly amazing talent and potential. Following them, and taking us through to the interval, a full chorus of both men and women treated us to a combination of; popular medleys, one classic opera piece and a performance of what was obviously a much more contemporary piece.

But, good as they undoubtedly were, for once my attention was not so much on the sound, but on one particular woman who was contributing to it.

I really have no idea as to exactly why she first attracted my attention, my preference had always been for short, blue-eyed blondes and this woman was the precise opposite; tall, brown, almost black hair which was twisted up at the back of her head, a smoothly pale skin colouring, and large - even when seen from as far away as I was - luminescently brown eyes.

But attracted I certainly was - and powerfully so. It was as though there had sprung up between us a link, a chord, a tightly stranded thread, a link that triggered - at least at my end it did - thoughts of slipping my arm around her, pulling her towards me, using the other hand to ease her face closer, close enough to kiss.

It was nothing but sheer lunacy! There I was, sitting in a partially darkened hall, just one amongst an audience of around two hundred people, imagining I had somehow made connection with a woman I had never seen before - and imagining her allowing me to begin to make love to her... But that's exactly what was going, all too uncomfortably vividly, through my suddenly totally bewitched and absolutely besotted mind.

When the interval came I hurried out to the foyer, hoping against hope that she too might appear there - perhaps to greet some friends, but hopefully not family! But I was to be disappointed; although the youngsters did come through to receive congratulatory hugs from justifiably proudly adoring relatives, not one of the choristers did. So I had to make do with slipping back into my fantasy mode during the time that the choir appeared back on stage - and all through their time there my eyes never once strayed from her, I was fixated, almost obsessively hooked on just the sight of her.

Other than the general shape of her mature - but certainly not matronly - figure, the only other thing I could distinctly notice about her, was the large, dark-amber coloured ring she wore on her left hand. And as it was large enough to disguise any wedding ring that she might be wearing behind it, I had no way of knowing whether or not she was married. 

Of course my thoughts and purely masculine reactions during the second half of the performance were far, far stronger than those I had experienced previously.

Thoughts of what feminine delights I would find if I slowly unbuttoned that crisply white, high-buttoned blouse, unfastened that snugly form-fitting black skirt, then gently eased them both away from her. 

Thoughts as to what style and colour of underwear that would reveal to me. Thoughts of seeing even more of that creamily ivory skin, the lushly womanly curves and creases, the dimples, the folds - and perhaps even the most deeply hidden places that were yet to be explored.

Thoughts as to exactly what sort of madness had taken hold of me...

But then, from time to time, her eyes seemed to glance across in my direction, briefly locking with mine, giving rise to the idea that perhaps they might be registering something of the feelings I was sending out towards her...

I knew that such imaginings were no more than wishful thinking, but even the recognition of that could not stop me from hoping that they might in fact somehow be realised. Hoping that she might see this one face from amongst the darkly blurring crowd of the audience, see the longing to know her that was reflected there, see the emotional turmoil that her mere presence had produced in the man whose face that was.

So I spent all of the second half of the performance deeply locked within my own inner turmoil - and in trying to think of ways in which I might get to meet this overwhelmingly bewitching creature.

Then, even though I hung about, probably almost suspiciously, I didn't catch even a glimpse of her at the end of the performance, so finally, deciding she had somehow slipped out through an alternate exit, I was about to glumly make my way back home again, when I saw on a table set up near the doorway, leaflets that called for new applicants from people interested in joining or assisting in the organisation of further activities of the choir.

I grabbed one, then headed home with more than just a faint trace of a spring in my step - and it was only right then that I realised that I had been concentrating so hard on watching that utterly mesmerising woman that I had failed to register the choir's singing of the piece that had originally drawn me there - the 'Te Deum'!




Chapter 2

After a phone call confirmed that I would indeed be welcome to join the audition session set for a week or so's time, I began doing a little almost totally forgotten singing practice, in the shower, and soon found at least a few of my earlier skills returning, and although I knew that my inability to sight-read music might be a drawback, I began to look forward to the audition.

It turned out that, like many local choir groups, this one was so desperately short of male voices that I was welcomed with almost open arms, and once the formidable choir-mistress heard my voice and found I could not only hold and carry a tune but hit all the notes almost perfectly, she was happy to overlook my sight-reading deficiency. So, within an hour or so I was signed up as their new member and I looked forward to the first practice, when of course I expected to see in close-up the gorgeous woman who had sparked this whole, in some ways quite ridiculous, business.

My introduction to fellow choir members left me with a confusing array of names and unrelated faces, all except that one of course - Bethany, but Mrs. Bethany Trumbell. However, my initial disappointment was allayed somewhat later when after a close inspection of her ring finger confirmed that she actually wore nothing but that large dress-ring - and some discreet probing of another chorister, confirmed that she was actually a divorcee. I also found out that she was the Chief Librarian at our local facility, and that not only did she have responsibility for the management of that, but also of the library-bus that provided a mobile service to a number of outlying communities within the general district.

My first evening went rather well but after an equally enjoyable opening to the second, I discovered that the new piece - a choral arrangement of something by the French modernistic composer, Poulenc - we were to learn was a contemporary one. Now with the more traditional pieces I had been having little trouble in slipping into the appropriate harmonies, but in this one - where I could find no key-notes to guide me - I was frankly totally lost. The choir-mistress quickly recognised my inadequacies and called a halt to the singing, and after turning to Bethany and saying - 'Would you mind helping Mark with this?' and receiving a nodding reply - she turned to me.

'Bethany takes young people for singing and piano lessons, and I'm sure that a few sessions with her would help you find your path through this piece Mark. Would you mind availing yourself of her assistance?'

Well, I just couldn't believe my luck! Not only was I to be helped with what was proving to be my Achilles' heel, but my helper was to be the very woman I had joined the choir in the hope of getting close to. 

Bethany and I quickly made arrangements for me to call at her house - which turned out to be no more than five minutes walk from my own - the following evening and once home again I had to keep pinching myself to reassure me that I wasn't actually dreaming.

Bethany's place was a good deal more imposing than my own little cottage, but had obviously been built during the same period; a double fronted, two-storied stone house, with neatly tended front garden and several interesting statues and appropriate garden ornaments adding to its overall grand, but still rustic charm.

She greeted me warmly, taking me down the central hall-way, pausing to poke her head around a door on one side, and saying. 'I have Mark Dawson here for a little singing practice, so I'll close the door so we do not disturb you.' - then leading me into a room on the other side.

'My two sons, they're fifteen year old twins, are doing their school studies in there, but with both doors closed we won't disturb them too much.' she explained as she closed what I saw was a heavily felted door and then pulled across an equally heavy, rather old-fashioned velvet curtain. 'There, that should quieten things a bit.' she added as she adjusted the drapes. 'Now, let's see what we can do to help you with this wretched piece - I think it's hateful, but Marjorie does like to include the odd contemporary piece in our overall repertoire.'

It was soon obvious that she was both a skilled pianist and an excellent voice coach, and having guided me through the cue notes that were all but hidden within the other voice parts, she soon had me singing mine much more comfortably. 'You have a very pleasant voice Mark, have you done a good deal of singing?' she asked when she returned from making cups of coffee for us while we took a short break.

'Not since I was a youngster Bethany, no. Other than the usual bathroom arias.' I added with a rather shamefaced grin.

'Well that's a pity. So what made you decide to join our little group?'

'I moved here about a year ago now, and have been busy with renovations and suchlike until recently. But I have always been a great lover of music of all sorts and when I saw the advert in the paper - and especially that you were performing the Stanford piece, well I just had to come along.'

'Do I presume you sang the 'Te Deum' as a boy-soprano?'

'Yes, but I've always loved it.'

'So, what did you think of our rendition?'

She had me on the spot there. I couldn't say that I had been so mesmerised, so absorbed in the sight of her that I hadn't even registered the fact that they were singing the very piece that had drawn me there in the first place. So I mumbled something that seemed appropriately complimentary, and took a hasty sip of the coffee.

But even if I hadn't been caught out in that way, the way I was feeling after being so close to her for not much more than half an hour, had left me flustering, and speaking more like an infatuatedly blundering young teen-ager than a mature, mid-life man.

From my seat in the hall, she had looked gorgeous - not glossy-magazine, sexily beautiful - but even from that distance I felt she was somehow exuding a much deeper, perhaps almost primal, feminine appeal. And standing right behind her, looking down at her; at her hair, her neck, shoulders, the way the swell of her breasts tautened the fabric of her blouse, at her hands as they flowed smoothly and skilfully along the length of the keyboard - I was entranced, spellbound, totally captivated.

So it's not too surprising that my half of the conversation with her must have seemed far less than brilliant. From time to time I noticed a brief flicker of a half smile twitch the corners of her mouth, but other than that, she gave no overt signal that my flummoxed exchange was anything out of the ordinary. So, when after another half hour or so of practice had passed by, and she asked if I would like to come again, the following week, I stammered, far too enthusiastically - 'Yes, oh yes please!'

As a result of her coaching my contribution to the next choir practice was a significant improvement on the first - and Marjorie made a point of saying so, adding that Bethany had obviously done her usual excellent job on me.

I just wished I'd had the nerve to reply that she didn't know the half of it!

My second lesson with Bethany started in much the same way that the first had; first a short period of voice-warming exercises, then a start on the second section of the new piece we had to learn. Again I found she had a way of pin-pointing the critical key-notes for me to tune my voice to, and that made the harmonising process so much easier for me. So we were making very good progress, when I noticed something that would, in retrospect, prove to be the trigger that would begin everything that eventually followed.

Bethany had continued to wear her hair coiled and secured behind her head; using a large, multi-tined clip to hold it in place - but then I suddenly noticed that one small , wayward tendril of it had become misplaced, then drifted down and across the back of her neck. My action was totally involuntary, if it hadn't been I would have stayed my hand, not daring to reach out and touch her in such an unasked for and perhaps intimate, way.

But my hand moved of its own - or perhaps responding to my deeply sub-conscious command - and touched it; gently, then slowly and perhaps almost lovingly, moved it to one side.

Her hands stopped in mid-bar, she turned, looked up at me - was it quizzically, or femininely knowingly? I couldn't tell.

'Sorry!' I mumbled. 'It's just that a strand of your hair slipped out, I thought it might be tickling you, distracting you, you know...' I added in desperate confusion - still able to feel the tingling in my finger-tips from where they had briefly but wonderfully, actually touched her!

'Thank you Mark. My neck is quite sensitive, so it well could have done. That was thoughtful of you.' But then she added - 'And you do have a very gentle touch, I mean for a man that is.'

Hoping to lighten what I felt was a suddenly rather tense moment, like a fool I said. 'You mean you prefer to be touched by a woman?'

She relieved my clumsy ineptitude by turning and quickly replying. 'Not usually, no! I definitely much prefer a man's touch - but that's not to say there haven't been other times.'

I'm not quite sure where the conversation might have gone from that point on - but just then we heard the sound of a door slamming, loudly, then the low thump, thump of heavy footsteps receding, angrily, down the hallway.

"Oh it sounds as though John has got up Jason's nose again, I'd better go and do my peace-maker thing. Then while I'm out there I'll take the opportunity to make us some coffee so we can take a short break.

I had been so caught up in the process of learning my part of the music, and of literally breathing in the same air as Bethany, that I had totally forgotten the two young teen-agers in the other room. But the interruption brought the reality of her day-to-day life suddenly home to me - and perhaps actually started the thinking process that I would later develop much more assiduously.




Chapter 3


Choral Evenings Pt. 01



It took me a few phone calls to people who obviously either didn't understand what it was I wanted, or at least preferred to give that impression, but as usual, perseverance paid off and I finally found myself talking to what was clearly an older man, one who immediately grasped and who apparently took a personal interest in my plan.

He explained that although the thing I wanted to purchase, if he could find one, would probably not be too expensive in itself, there might well be significant costs in restoration and then especially the transportation. This would have to be done by a specialist company, who charged what he considered overly high prices. However, if he was successful in obtaining what I wanted, he would also be prepared to travel down and make sure its final tuning was correctly adjusted.

Having giving me a rough estimate of what he thought might be involved, which - although rather more than I thought it might be - as an investment in what I hoped it might deliver, was in fact very much less than I could well have been prepared to pay. So of course I immediately agreed to it.

When I had renovated and modernised the cottage I had been at pains to insist that all that work should, wherever possible, respect the character of the original building - not simply gut the place down to four walls and a roof then insert a 21st century place inside those. So I had demanded that the carpenters do their best to either source old timber that could be reworked, or seek wood that could at least be made to blend in with what original timbers we could leave in place. I did much the same thing with the stone-masons and even spent a considerable amount of time hunting down fittings that would not clash by screaming out their modernity.

So the fact that the piano-tuner immediately understood what I wanted the second, third or even fourth-hand piano to look like, was heartening - but I quite understood when he said it might be some little while before he came across not only something that would fit in, but one which he would be able to bring back to life again, as an instrument.

However, it was only a matter of ten days or so before I received a call back from him - and even he sounded excitedly pleased when he described what it was he said he had found for me.

He said he thought it would have been one of the range of instruments designed purposely for the connoisseur who had but limited space in which to accommodate a piano - as opposed to the grandiose 'furniture display pieces' that the Victorian merchant class had been so fond of. He compared those monstrosities to the flashy cars and unnecessarily overly large houses that today's equivalents use to publicly display their suddenly acquired wealth. 'This instrument was designed and built for a musician Mr Dawson, it was to be played, not just to be looked at. And the fact that it was given an iron frame - not timber - has meant it's had the very best chance of surviving this long. Not that it won't need a fair bit of work; there are half a dozen hammers I would like to replace and of course all the felting needs to be re-done, and maybe a string or two. But it's not going to cost you an arm and a leg - that is if you want me to buy it and get to work on it for you.'

I told him to go right ahead, and began looking forward to the next stage in my plan to win the heart - and maybe possibly, perhaps eventually, even the body too - of the ever more delightful Bethany,

It wouldn't be strictly accurate to say that my every single waking moment was being filled with thoughts of her - although I certainly found a great many were - I still had my work and the other day-to-day commitments we all have in our seemingly ever more busy lives. But - and this was most unusual for me - I did find myself quite frequently day-dreaming about her; of how she had looked, and that incredibly powerful effect she had had on me, that very first evening, at the concert. I mean how could it be possible that just seeing someone from such a great, and totally impersonal, distance, could leave me with the image of her burned so indelibly on my brain?

But it undoubtedly was so!

Then the evenings we had spent in the choir practice, when I had found myself constantly looking across at where she was standing - noting even minute details of the changes in what she was wearing - and straining to hear the sound of her voice through all those which encompassed us.

And most vivid of all were those other evenings, or at least small parts of them, when it had been just the two of us together at her piano. Those times when I could look down at her; see each of the individually stray hairs at the base of that ever-present coif, see the slender and pale creamy beauty of her neck, her small, neatly shaped ears, see just the hint of the swell of her breast. So many, so very small parts of her, but they were more than enough to continue to fire the amorousness I had felt towards her since that very first moment...

However, in the meantime our weekly practices continued, and once Bethany had showed me where and how to spot those sometimes cunningly hidden key-notes she began to sing one or other of the parts with me.

Of course when singing within the choir the individual's voice is required to lose its distinctiveness; the perfect choral sound is gained from the precise blending of the sum of the whole, not from a melange of soloists. But when I heard it in isolation I realised that she had been blessed with a rich and well rounded mezzo-soprano voice - one which had a quite remarkable range that was able to include notes from mid contralto right through to being at the lower reaches of a true coloratura.

She really did have a beautiful singing voice - and I told her so, receiving an unexpectedly and almost maidenly blushing 'Thank you!' in reply.

So we stood and sang and played together, very happily, for those three or four weeks - and although we were only occasionally interrupted by one or other of her son's sudden appearances we were probably both always keenly aware of their actual proximity.

Then the piano-tuner called to say that my piano was ready and wanted to know which day I could be available for the move of it down from the city, and having arranged to take a day off from work, I looked forward to seeing what my money had bought.

And if the mere look of it gave any indication of what it might sound like I certainly wasn't disappointed. It could well have been built with exactly my small cottage in the mind of its creator, both its compact size and the colour and tone of the beautifully crafted exterior blending perfectly with the exposed timber I had been at pains to preserve inside the house.

Just as most houses were back in those times, mine came with what had clearly been a parlour and a living-room, neither of which were particularly large, and I had at one stage been tempted to have the intervening wall removed, to make one much larger space. But as the removalists carefully inched the piano into what had been the parlour - and which I had now decided I would call my music room - I was very, very glad I had not.

The instrument not only immediately blended in because of its outward finish, but its modest size also gave it a perfectly 'tailored-to-fit' appearance. Then, while I gave the workmen a beer or two, the piano-tuner sat down to make some final and purely minor adjustments to it - then, once the others had gone, he gave me a ten or fifteen minute demonstration of its sound. And although by no means a true connoisseur of the piano it was obvious even to me that what I had bought was something I should treasure.

So I could hardly wait to see if what I hoped for would now come about - it all depended on just how Bethany responded to the invitation I had been planning during these few weeks - an invitation I would offer during the coffee break in my next singing lesson.




Chapter 4

It was only during my short walk around to her house that I realised that I had probably been far too hopeful of Bethany having a positive reaction to my purchase - and that I should possibly restrain my expectations and certainly lower my imaginings of what it might ultimately lead to.

But, as things turned out I was not to be disappointed - because when she suggested that it was time for us to have our usual coffee break, I took the plunge and asked her if she would be able to pop round to have it at my place - explaining that I had just purchased something that I would like to have her opinion about.

'Surely the boys will be all right on their own for a while?' I added.

'Of course they will Mark - and I'm flattered that you should want me to give an opinion on something. I'm intrigued. And anyway, I'd love to have the chance to see what changes and improvements you have made to that charming old house.' she said.

'Oh it's nothing too mysterious - it's a piano. But I had to try to find one that fitted in with the rest of what I've had done with the cottage - and a woman's eye is always so much better than any man's could be.'

'A piano! How wonderful, I didn't know you played!'

'I don't, well not for a very, very long time now - and although my mother did insist I take lessons for a while, I hated it of course, and never got down to learning to read music, so she relented and let me give it up. But then, while just fiddling about on the keyboard I discovered that I could play pretty well, just by ear. So that's as far as my keyboard skills ever went.'

"Even so, I'm sure you'll get a good deal of pleasure from being able to take that up again - so come on, let's go around to take a look at it. I'll just let the boys know where I'm going.'

As we took the short stroll we chatted about the various kinds of music that we each enjoyed playing and when I opened the door and took her inside I could immediately tell that she was impressed by both the alterations themselves, and the way the new parts blended with the restoration of the older areas of the house.

'You've had it done beautifully Mark, it's a credit to both you and local tradesmen.' She said with obvious sincerity.

'Yes, they've been marvellous, I'm very grateful to all of them. But now let's go and see what I hope is the 'pièce de resistance'.' I said, opening the parlour - or music room - door.

'Oh yes Mark, yes, that's just perfect!' she responded enthusiastically when she first saw the piano. 'It looks as though it was actually made for this room, doesn't it!'

'Thank goodness, I thought it might be just me who thought that.'

'Oh no, it's absolutely terrific - and what's its sound like?'

'Why not find out for yourself.' I suggested, giving her an overly happy grin.

'May I?'

'Of course, that's the main reason I invited you around. And whilst you tinkle a few ivories, I'll go and see about that coffee - or would you rather have something a little stronger?' I suggested.

'Thank you, but no, coffee will be just fine.'

I was only gone for five or so minutes, but in that short time Bethany had made herself comfortable on the velvet covered swivel stool that had come with the piano and after a short period of doing not much more than a few finger-warming exercises, she began to play. Apart from knowing that the woman who had so captivated me that very first evening was now actually sitting in my house, playing my latest acquisition - just the sound of having its music pervading the entire house, was wonderful.

When I returned with the tray and had put it down on a nearby occasional table, I went over and stood beside her while she finished the piece she'd started. Don't ask me why it was that the ring suddenly caught my eye - but it did. I had of course previously noticed that she always took off that somewhat over-large dress ring before she began playing, but until then it was always her hair, her face, whatever I could see of her that held my gaze. But that time, perhaps just because of the way she had placed it on top of the piano enabled its facets to catch the light in some particular way, it did.

'That really is a most beautiful ring Bethany - I'm afraid I'm not very good at recognising particular stones, but that one does look rather special.' I said.

'Yes it is, well it's special to me - it's a topaz.'

'As I said, it is very beautiful and I imagine someone very special must have bought it for you. I mean apart from its size and colour, and perhaps it's the way it has been cut, but it seems to reflect almost exactly both the highlights in your hair, and those sparkling flecks of colour in your eyes.'

Even before I had completely finished the sentence, Bethany's head turned, sharply, staring up at me, her expression one of both surprise and pure amazement.

'You're the very first person - other than the jeweller - either man or even a woman, who has ever said that.' she said, her voice expressing the emotions I had seen on her face.

'Well that surprises me - although this is the first time I have noticed it as strongly. But, you mean you bought the ring yourself?'

She gave a low, throaty chuckle, and replied. "Oh yes, I treated myself, I figured I was owed it - I mean after a protracted and messy divorce, that is.'

'You too?'

'Ah so we also have that in common. Well, what's past is past.' she answered philosophically.

'And what will be, will be?' I suggested with a cheeky grin.

'Most definitely Mark, most definitely. But, coffee first I think.' she answered as she pushed herself up off the stool - leaving me to contemplate exactly what she might have meant by the use of that loaded word - 'first'.

In spite of her saying that just coffee would be fine, I had taken the liberty of adding two small glasses of a rather fine brandy - just in case she should change her mind. And although we talked about the merits of the new piano as we slowly sipped the coffee, I could see from the sometimes more deeply thoughtful look on her face that she was not entirely concentrating on our conversation.

But it was only when I reached for the glasses and offered one to her, which she accepted, and I said, as I raised mine to my lips - 'Given that we have been practising French music, perhaps the appropriate toast should be - À votre santé'

And she then replied with the much more intimately personal - 'À toi Mark.' - that I allowed my, until then almost totally suppressed hopes, to rise rather more than a mere fraction.

'There are a couple of rooms in the house that I have failed to show you Bethany.'

'Really - and they are?' she asked with a positively knowing smile.

'The bedrooms.'

'There's more than one?'

'Mmm, one never knows when an unexpected guest might wish to visit.' I answered.

'Surely there are some guests who would neither demand, nor even expect, their own room.'

'Not so far.' I replied meaningfully. 'But would you like to see them?'

'Naturally, we women are renowned for our curiosity.' she replied as we both, as one, emptied our glasses, then stood for a moment.

I took her hand, it was not only soft, warm, but her fingers curled encouragingly around my own as I led her from the room, then on down the short hallway, and opened the door to my bedroom.




Chapter 5

She took a few steps into the room then paused, looking about herself. 'It's as beautifully finished as the rest of the house is Mark - but it is very obviously a man's room.'

'You mean it could be improved by the addition of a few more feminine touches?' I asked.

'Maybe - but what I really meant was that I'm glad to see there aren't any already around.'

'None so far Bethany.' I replied, at the same time reaching out and lightly brushing the back of her neck with my finger-tips.

She shivered, they were just faint little tremors, but I detected them, and so I allowed my fingers to slowly work their way around and up and down that narrow band of skin.

We stood like that for perhaps a minute - maybe less - then she turned, looked up at me and I saw that her eyes had suddenly become more darkly clouded. I kept my hand where it had been, using it to gently lift and press her head upwards - as I bent and brushed my lips against hers.

They were unbelievably soft, slightly moist - and welcoming!

As that first kiss turned to another, one that was slightly deeper - more emotional, I slid my free hand around her waist and eased her even closer, at the same time allowing the other to slide slowly up and down her back.

I felt her actually pressing herself against me, then her hand slipping up to the back of my head, gently urging it more forcefully downward; so, with that additional encouragement I slid just the tip of my tongue into her mouth, finding hers apparently waiting, then joining mine as the kiss grew still more obviously passionate.

We stood there, kissing and by then forcing our bodies together with quickly growing urgency, her hand pressing my lips down even more strongly, while the other - doing much the same as my own second hand had begun to - curling itself around so she could grip and squeeze my buttocks.

When we finally broke for a little extra air, I slid one hand up to cup her breast - and even through what she was wearing I could feel both the neatness of its size and its undoubted firmness, and couldn't wait to both see and kiss it. 'May I?' I whispered as my fingers went to the topmost of the buttons that ran down the front of the shirt.

'I'd be most upset if you didn't.' she answered softly, then with both hands around me and occupied with my arse, she stood while I slowly and with growing anticipation unbuttoned her.

I heard myself give a small gasp of amazement when I uncovered the beauty of what I found beneath what had appeared a very ordinary day-to-day shirt - it was a close-fitting little cami-top, made of a mix of rich but light mulberry coloured silk and lace - and as I opened the shirt front wider, as I could clearly see the dark, circular shadows of her aureoles - I knew she clearly wasn't wearing a bra.

And as the silky laciness clung so alluringly to them, I could also see that although her breasts were not on the overly large size, both their shape and obvious firmness made them, at least in my eyes, absolute perfection.

'You're even more beautiful than I thought you might be Bethany.' I croaked with suddenly lustful huskiness - then, totally ignoring the lace that sought to cover them, bent to kiss and nibble one of the quickly stiffening buds.

Her hands slid quickly up my back, holding my face firmly down against herself. 'Oh that's lovely Mark!' she sighed. 'You'll find I can take as much of that as you like to give me - but let's get a few more of our things off first.' She added as she gently urged me away from herself.

I stripped off in no time flat - only pausing when I saw what she revealed when she slid her skirt off. It was only then that I realised that the mulberry coloured cami-top was actually both matched and enhanced by some erotically tiny and wispily silk and lace panelled panties.

I knew I was staring, gawping open-mouthed, but there was nothing I could do about that - she looked beautiful, mouth-wateringly so, but not merely beautiful, she was quite simply the most damnably sexy woman it had ever been my good fortune to set eyes upon.

'Do you always wear such stunningly gorgeous underthings?' I asked almost breathlessly.

'Just this one evening of the week I have been, well, to be truthful, only these last few weeks I have.' She replied with a faint blush at the implication of her admission.

'You mean the night I've been coming round for practice?'

She merely nodded, watching - then her eyes widening - as I pushed my briefs down and exposed the already quivering erection they had been holding uncomfortably in place.




Choral Evenings Pt. 01



'Well if we are making confessions to each other, I had better admit that I only joined the choir because I became obsessed with meeting you the night you performed the 'Te Deum'.' I responded.

'You must tell me more - but leave it until later.' Was all she said as she too quickly joined me in my total nakedness.

Although we each demonstrated more than our fair share of consideration for each other's needs - she moved energetically with me, and I did my best to restrain my natural inclination to simply make the most of what I had been waiting so long for - and we each came with remarkably powerful effect, I think we both knew that our first love-making would never be remembered as being anything close to the best one.

'You are not just beautiful but an extraordinarily sexy woman, Bethany,' I told her when we finally rolled sweatily apart.

'And you're not just an attractive man but also a rather potent lover.' she replied, still somewhat breathlessly.

'Oh I assure you there's a good deal more available where that came from.' I answered semi-facetiously.

'And I should damn well hope so!' Was all the reply I got - that is apart from a sharp dig in the ribs.




Chapter 6

'So, are you now going to tell me what you were, I mean before we were so rudely interrupted?' I asked once we had settled comfortably side by side.

'Well I don't know about it being rudely, but you can interrupt me like that almost anytime you fancy.' she retorted. 'But I forget now what it was I was supposed to tell you.'

'As to why you wear such feminine finery on just one evening a week.'

'Oh come on Mark, don't play at being so dense - you must have seen I'd taken a fancy to you.'

I admit that comment took me completely by surprise, and I said so. Her initial reaction was to giggle, then she answered. 'Well I'm not the only one, there's been a good deal of gossip amongst the available ladies - and some of the supposedly unavailable ones too!' she added. 'We've all been wondering with whom and when you would make some move - that was presuming of course that you didn't turn out to be gay. Which none of us actually thought you were.' she added hurriedly. 'I mean it's been close to a year now, and a man can't stay celibate for ever, can he!'

'Not this one, certainly! But I had no idea I had been the centre of so much chit-chat, maybe I should have said something to you very much sooner than I did. But it's hard for a man, especially when moving into a new community - I mean the very last thing I wanted to do was to upset someone, or give myself a bad name. Well you know.' I tailed off, lamely.

'Well I'm just glad you finally did.' she whispered more softly as she snuggled herself closer.

'And so am I, so am I.' I answered, slipping my hand up to cup her nearest breast as I bent to plant a softly moist kiss on her ear, then moved down and pressed a another, rather more firmly, on her neck.

She shifted herself, turning her head so I could kiss her properly, and we lay there - hands idly stroking, caressing each other - while our lips and tongues kissed, tickled, licked - and in doing so, slowly but inexorably re-excited us.

But each of us was enjoying that small but highly sensual arousal, so we continued on, kissing and tongue-teasing each other long after other people might have begun to make love again.

Eventually Mother Nature's power held sway over us, and Bethany pushed herself upwards, and straddled her legs astride me - as she did so, reaching up behind her head and unpinning the coif that had even until then, held her hair in place.

It literally cascaded downwards, shrouding her shoulders and even falling to tickle my face. It was not only long - perhaps if she had been upright it would have reached almost to her waist - but although it was soft, showing none of the brittle dryness that many women's hair does have, it was also thick. In fact I would never have believed that so much hair could have been wound into such a small and neat arrangement.

'Oh Bethany, what absolutely beautiful hair!' I exclaimed as I began combing my fingers through its lustrous abundance.

'Thank you Mark, it seems I was blessed with at least some good genes.'

'Oh I think you got the lion's share when they were being handed out - you have nothing to complain about, at least not from where I'm looking.'

'And you seem to have been blessed in at least this department.' she giggled, as her hand firmly closed around the rigid length that she could feel poking up against her. 'And I have just the right place for it.' she added as she went to push herself upwards over it.

'Hold on, not yet - move yourself up here first.' I suggested as I pushed myself a little further down the bed.

Of course at that stage I knew absolutely nothing about Bethany's likes and dislikes when it came to sex and sexual positions - but I have met few women who do not like being given oral sex, and as it is one of my all time favourite activities, I took the plunge.

However, instantly apparently understanding what I intended, she reached forward for the pillow and as I lifted my head, she pushed it down beneath it, thus easing the strain of that position then, taking her weight on her arms, she shifted herself until her pussy was immediately above my waiting mouth.

I looked up, noting that Bethany was not a woman who regularly shaved herself, but what hairs she had around her pussy were very much sparser and softer than the dark curling mass that covered her pubis. 

I also saw that her sex was already wet, pink and puffy from the arousal our kissing and caressing had sparked in her, and even as I used just the tip of my tongue to lick lightly around its outer edges I felt her shudder. With that reaction I much more confidently began to run my hands along beneath her thighs and up over the long sweep of her bottom, then eased her just a little more downward, so I could more easily reach up into her with my tongue.

Right then I was certainly in no rush - the sight, earthy smell of her sex and her response to what I was doing was sufficiently exciting to keep my cock straining upright - so, I licked slowly around, over and just occasionally, down between her moist folds. At the same time as I was doing that I was also running my hands lightly up and down her back, every now and then slipping lower, to squeeze her arse-cheeks and, occasionally letting my fingers slip down into the crack between them.

As the effect of what I was doing for her slowly built and intensified she began to squirm and softly moan with growing pleasure and those reactions grew even stronger when, soon after that I slipped my stiffened tongue up between the tender folds and used it to probe inside her. Feeling that she lifted herself even more upright, so I could get even deeper and, as she did so I reached up, stroked and gently squeezed the firm fullness of her breasts, nipping their hardened nipples between my fingers, feeling fresh tremors of delight run through her in response.

The change of position left Bethany's hands free and she reached back around behind herself and took hold of my cock with one and slid the other down between my thighs and cupped my tightly swollen balls. As her fingers began to caress and stroke me I felt the pressure inside rising and gauged the time right to take her up to her next plateau of excitement. So, reluctantly releasing the soft firmness of her breasts I slipped my hand down beneath her and lifted her up a little more so I could use my tongue on her clitoris.

She shuddered violently as she felt me lick up over the sensitive ridge, and as I gradually worked my tongue faster I heard her intermittent moans turning to louder cries of sheer delight.

My original intention had been to take her to a full climax that way and only after that to use my cock to give her another, but in that position she could control events better than I, and although it was clear that she loved what my tongue was doing for her, it was equally obvious that she wanted what her hand had a firm grip of inside herself right away.

Not needing any help from me, she lifted herself slightly, eased back a little and with a quick change of hands, guided the tip of it up between her wet and swollen outer pussy-lips.

Once there she paused, holding still, then began, at first tentatively, to move herself slowly up and down; sending shock waves of pleasure up though me as her pussy-lips grazed the super-sensitive surface of my cock-head. But exciting though that undoubtedly was she knew we both needed much more than just that, and after a dozen or so of those little moves she re-adjusted her position and slowly pushed herself down, that time taking the entire straining length of my cock deep inside herself.

She let out a long, slow sigh of satisfaction as she felt herself being filled, and I heard myself making a similar sound as the tightness of her pussy forced the loose skin downwards, triggering every single nerve-ending in my throbbing shaft. Although I hadn't fully realised it, by then I must have been so wound-up with sexual tension that the effects of that initial penetration were ten times more powerful than usual. The signals zipping through me literally flooded the pleasure centre in my brain, momentarily blocking everything else, and I only realised she had taken all of my cock when I felt the warm pressure of her bottom and a faint tickling sensation as her bush tangled with mine.

Once Bethany was sure she had it all she arched her body backwards, and as that position thrust her breasts high I took the opportunity to reach up and start to stroke, squeeze and fondle them again - while she ground herself down against me, adjusting her position until she could feel my cock-head pushing against the inner lining of the deepest parts of her sex.

Her voice was deep, husky from her extreme state of arousal and she almost sobbed as she gasped. 'Oh Mark! Oh my god! You can't imagine how wonderful that is. You're so big, and so hard, it feels as though I'm being split wide open.'

Then, she began to rise and fall more determinedly, grunting as she forced more and more of it deep inside herself.

For me those minutes were tortured bliss. I couldn't believe the thrills her body was generating and though mine was arched rigidly upwards and by using my hips and pelvis I was forcing myself even higher, I mentally simply 'lay back', and let the incredible sensations flood through me.

But of course, in time, as our bodies drove us on towards our inevitable climaxes, both her movements and my reactions began to become more urgent. I looked down across myself, to where our bodies joined and watched the sight of my glistening shaft being engulfed by her downward pussy thrusts, and as they gradually increased in speed I heard her low moans of pleasure gradually turn to short, explosive pants of growing need, then to deep grunts of increasingly urgent demand, and heard my own reactions echoing hers as the pressure inside me rose higher.

I looked up, past the swollen, spiky tips of her breasts, saw the flush that spread from them up across her neck and coloured her grimacing face. Perspiration was forming on her upper lip and forehead and though her eyes were clenched tight I could imagine the wild stare that would be filling them if they were open.

I watched her breasts jiggling and bouncing above me as she increased the speed of her action then looked down again at the sight of her flashing up and down the pole-like thing my shaft had become as the pressure inside me rose still higher. Then, as her pounding got even more frenzied, I felt the first surge rising from somewhere deep inside myself, locking my body tight and I gave myself up to the thrills - the wonderful, excruciatingly wonderful thrills.

Then I heard Bethany's irregular grunts blending and turning into a slowly rising wail, a wail that ended in a loud, wild shriek, as her body's reactions reached critical point and she felt her climax start to roll through her, rippling outwards from her core, triggering spasms in every muscle, every fibre.

As she began her climax and I felt the start of her pussy's rhythmic contractions I also felt some pressure valve finally snap open, releasing the flood that had been building inside me. It seared up though my cock, and as I gave a series of loud, guttural grunts, exploded, jetting deep into her very core.

Bethany's climax went on and on, and though her ride gradually slowed, became less frenzied, she continued pumping me, as though trying to force more and still more from my all too quickly emptying body. And though my spasming cock spurted less and less powerfully what she urged from it added to the cocktail of juices inside her, which was soon whipped to a froth that then bubbled back out and ran down my shaft to form a growing pool around its base.

She collapsed forwards, still gasping for breath, her entire body hot and sticky with perspiration from the force of her exertions, and I held her tightly down against myself, grateful for the opportunity to recover from the power of the climax she had produced for me.

It was some unknown time later when she finally rolled off me, my cock making a loud squelching sound as even more fluid gushed from her pussy and then we simply lay quietly as our bodies began recovering from the intensity of what we had shared.




Chapter 7

'Well I certainly see now what you meant earlier.' she said when we had both regained a greater degree of composure.

'About what?'

'About there being much more where that came from.' she explained with an almost girlishly breathy giggle. 'I mean a girl couldn't really ask for any more than that - now could she?'

'So long as the customer is satisfied. 'We aim to please.' - has always been the motto in this establishment.' I replied equally jocularly.

'Much more than both satisfied, and pleased - I assure you kind sir. And I think it might be a while before I'm capable of taking any more - at least right now that is.'

'That's a relief!' I responded, not totally facetiously. 'But how about the boys? I thought you told them you'd only be gone for a short while.' I added.

'Not exactly Mark.' she answered somewhat sheepishly. 'I said I wasn't sure exactly how long I'd be, but they were not to worry about me. I think they got the message - they know I rather fancied you.' she added with a knowing grin.

'So you were prepared to be pounced on?'

'Yes - and I have been for some time.' she answered more confidently as she rolled herself on top of me and began demanding even more kisses from me - which, even though more than physically drained and sated, I was just as happy to return to her.

*****

The next month or three were a blur of physical exploration of each other's wants and needs. And once that initial barrier between us had been breached - and our quickly burgeoning relationship gained the immediate approval of both her sons and also of nearly all of her friends - Bethany proved to be exactly the sort of lover any red-blooded man might wish to find. She was both creative and generous with her own body, and receptively grateful of her lover's detailed attention to it - and so the bond that soon formed between us quickly grew both thicker and stronger.

She soon found out that one my absolutely all-time favourite pastimes was to be allowed to spend as long as I wanted - or at least as long as she was capable of taking me - up between her legs.

At first she seemed to think I was doing no more than what many other men had done; giving her the necessary minimum amount of oral stimulation, and then merely lying back and expecting her to return the favour. But I was able to convince her that I was not one such man - that I truly loved being down there.

The feel of a woman's skin on the inside of her thighs is like no other - even softer, smoother and even more silky.

Then there is the scent of her sex - once she has started to become aroused, it is the most powerful of all possible aphrodisiacs.

Then there is the sight of her - a woman's sex is often compared with that of the beauty of a flower, or some overly ripe fruit of a tropical variety, and it is all of those things, but it is also the essence of her fragility and vulnerability. And so being privileged enough to be so intimately in contact with it, is a sign of her love and her trust in the man she has allowed there.

And finally of course there is the effect that a caring man's tender attention to it can have on her - to be the one who has provided such powerful responses, especially if when she climaxes that way she does so with even more forcefulness than usual, provides a wonderful sense of 'gift-giving' to a man who truly cares for her.

Although I never had to spell it out in such an unfeelingly academic fashion, she soon understood that no matter how long she wanted or needed me to stroke, lick, kiss, suck or in other ways stimulate her, I gained at least as much pleasure from doing so, as she did.

She also learned that I truly loved the feel of her hands on me, especially in the area around my cock and balls. That I was not a man who needed us to actually fuck every time we were together.

If there were times when it was either too uncomfortable or embarrassing for her to have sex with me, I was more than happy for her to demonstrate her wish to please me by using her hands as the way of doing so.

Of course I always loved the feel of her lips and mouth slipping down over my cock, but there were of course times and places where that was all but impossible, and if at that moment she felt I was in need of some urgent relief, then I was more than eager for her to provide that with her fingers.

But although the physicality of the relationship often seemed to be the most powerful aspect of it, that wasn't really the truth of the situation. We were at heart, both of us what one would call 'romantics'; we sometimes tended to see the world around us through rose-tinted glasses and our enjoyment of things artistic were nearly all shared ones.

But the essence of our romanticism was to be seen most noticeably in the way we acted together. We were hardly ever to be found around town when not holding each other's hand - and occasionally stopping to exchange tender kisses. And when inside one or other's homes, although it's true that we were sometimes much more disgracefully behaved, much of the time we could be found either sharing in some minor, domestic chore, or doing not much more than exchanging a briefly flickering kiss or two while enjoying some particular piece of music.

And I would say that even our more passionate love-making could be considered to be 'romantic' in nature - not for either of us the fast and furious pounding that so many men seem to think is necessary to demonstrate their 'manliness'. No, I like to think that whatever we did with or to each other was done not only with loving concern for the sharing of the experience, but often with a final touch of creativity that took it to another height.

Perhaps the most appropriate examples of what I think of as being our 'romantic love-making' was to be found over the week-end when a camping excursion took her sons away for two nights, and, unlike most evenings - when she had to scurry home to be there for them in the morning - we finally had the opportunity to spend the whole of those two in one or other of our beds.

At first there had been a bit of gentle by-play between us, each extolling the virtues and benefits of their own house. But then, as she had already arranged to have that Friday afternoon off work, so she could oversee the boys' packing and get them off to join the bus that was leaving at 4 o'clock, after which she would have time to start to prepare an evening meal for us - we decided her place was the more practical.




Choral Evenings Pt. 01



Having hurried home from work to pick up what I thought I might need over the week-end, I went around, to find Bethany already had much of what we were to eat slowly cooking, so we sat, had a drink, and having agreed that this was one time when we would not rush our love-making, we chatted.

It always surprised me as to just how much we found to talk about - but then we were constantly discovering that we really did have a great many things in common; we shared our interests in the Arts, Music, books of course, and a constantly unravelling number of things that we were each eager to share with someone. So both the time it took to finish the meal's preparation, and its subsequent consumption, literally flew by.

However, and not totally surprisingly, we then decided that 'an early night', was exactly what both of us wanted! And, once we tidied up in the kitchen, Bethany took herself off to have a shower.

By the time I had had mine, I found her sitting at her dressing table, wearing just a light bath-robe, and in the process of about to let down her hair.

Although by then I had seen its full beauty many, many times, I never tired of the seeing the actual moment when she unfastened it - and once it fell down around her shoulders, and the best part of the way down her back, I was overcome with an urge, a need to stroke and caress it.

Just then she picked up her hairbrush, and I immediately saw how I could do what I so badly wanted to.

'May I do that for you?' I asked, almost uneasily.

'Of course Mark, that is if you would like to - in fact I'd enjoy it if you would.'

Now I don't think either of us knew just how long I stood there, handling and brushing those long, silkenly dark tresses. I do know that within just a very few minutes I was in some sort of euphorically blissful state - and from the slowly intensifying look of enjoyment on Bethany's, I felt sure she was slipping into one that was very similar.

I brushed, slowly and down the entire length of each portion of her hair, allowing the fingers of my other hand to provide tenderly loving support for it, watching as the sheen of it gradually increased, and seeing those very highlights that I had mentioned the evening I had seen the self-same colours in her ring.

Although I knew I was not only enjoying the shared intimacy of that time, but also being physically aroused by it, I did not appreciate just how deeply the mere brushing of her hair had affected me, until she some time very much later, stayed my hand, and then swivelled herself around to face me.

She glanced down, looked up into my eyes, and said. 'I thought so, I can see that you haven't just been turning me on.'

I looked down at myself, the towel I had wrapped around my waist when leaving the bath-room, was pushed aside and my almost fully engorged cock was thrusting through that opening.

'She gave a low chuckle from somewhere deep in the back of her throat. 'I guessed that was what I could feel prodding me in the back.' she said. 'But I think I might be able to do something about that for you.'

And with that, she pulled the towel off, leaned slightly forward, and gathering the ends of her hair up in both hands, she draped and wound it around my erection. 'Let's see if you like this Mark.' she whispered throatily.

Then she slowly - as slowly as I had brushed it - slid her handfuls of hair back and forth the quickly straining shaft. Only some time later, while continuing to do that with one hand, using the other handful to concentrate on the by then super-sensitive cock-head.

If I had been in blissful euphoria just while brushing it, having her do that to me with her hair was simply ecstatic rapture!

I heard myself moaning softly as the thrills and the muscular contractions they triggered, wracked me - seemingly wracking my entire body and nervous system!

Of course with that amount of stimulation, my climax inevitably came far quicker than I would have liked it to - but even when my guttural grunts and arching body alerted Bethany to its immediacy, she continued, if anything coiling even thicker braids of hair around my throbbingly jerking cock. And she gathered still more of it when I did finally erupt, allowing her hair to absorb virtually all of the gouts of thickly sticky semen I unloaded. 

Of course later, once I had calmed down a little, we took each other to bed, and after spending a luxuriously long time crouched up between her legs, and having given her several, apparently equally shattering climaxes, we made soft, sweetly tender love together. And, making the very most of the opportunity of being together in the same bed, we subsequently woke one or other of us up again several times during a night that proved to be short on actual sleeping, but very, very long on creatively enthusiastic love-making.




Chapter 8

Rodin's sculpture - 'The Kiss' - is justifiably famous world-wide, not just for the sheer genius and artistry the creator displays in its crafting, but for both the tenderness and the sheer sensuality which he has somehow managed to instil into that couple's embrace.

Even as a young man - when those lust-producing hormones were still surging through me - I remember that I not only admired the sculpture itself, but, in some ways even more so, the soft gentleness of the emotions one could feel being exchanged by those two languorously relaxed lovers.

But I would have to wait many, many years before I had the wisdom, or perhaps it was the partner, with whom I could be totally satisfied by the simple joy that a long, lovingly exchanged series of kisses could induce.

And Bethany was quickly proving to be that woman.

*****

It was a situation that any man who is happily involved with a woman; whether as girl-friend, lover or partner, will have faced many times - when he knows full well that the thing that right then is most important to her, is an activity that will only result in him being bored senseless.

Our small town was blessed with something that in most other similarly sized ones have been either torn down to make way for the vital supermarket, or at best, converted into a space that houses the equally critical 'Discount Warehouse' - a cinema.

In fact we not only still had one, but the recent change of ownership had seen it bought by a couple who were prescient enough to recognise that by investing funds to up-date and modernise its facilities and develop a programme that included re-showing of some of the classic films, it could well attract large enough audiences to show a modest profit.

So we then had a facility that is both more than comfortable, but could also screen both the most recent 'whiz-bangs' for the kids, but every so often show films that attract a more mature and sophisticated crowd.

The Saturday of that first of our week-ends together had been one of those languidly hot and sultry ones, and with no sign of the normally expected evening breeze, it seemed that the night-time would follow that same pattern. So when Bethany suggested it might be a good night to see the film that she had mentioned she really wished to see, I agreed that a couple of hours inside the at least slightly cooler cinema might not be such a bad idea.

It was some romantic melodrama set in early Victorian times, so I guessed it would, along with vastly billowing gowns and men in ultra-tight britches, be filled with what were supposed to be steamily languid looks, and punctuated by convolutedly long, almost unintelligible sentences - all of which to a woman implied the deeply hidden romanticism of the characters.

'I gather it's one of those 'bodice-rippers'.' I said, with what I hoped was straight-faced facetiousness.

'I wouldn't get your hopes up too much - I don't think you'll get even a glimpse of flesh beneath a roughly ripped bodice in this one, my sweet.'

'Oh well, a man can hope. So what time does it start?'

We ate, and as the evening was still hot and vaguely humid, Bethany changed into one of her long, loose-fitting Indian cotton creations that, when she left her hair hanging free, managed to give her a look of a girl stepping straight out of the early '70s.

On arriving at the cinema we found, much as I had anticipated, that the audience would be comprised of mainly women of varying ages. I caught sight of only two other men who were, like myself, there purely to demonstrate their love and loyalty to their partner. But, perhaps because most preferred to either remain within their own air-conditioned comfort, or spend the evening beside a barbecue and well filled fridge, the actual number waiting to be allowed inside were in fact remarkably few.

When the cinema had been refurbished, the owners had, perhaps as a way of ensuring a regular attendance by teen-age couples, installed two rows of double seats - those without the normally ubiquitous arm-rests, at the very back. In normal circumstances these were immediately grabbed by pairs of hotly flushed young people eager for an hour or two of not so subtle groping and fondling.

But this night, with a far more mature group entering, those two rows - and in fact, most of the others too - were obviously to be left completely empty, so as we ourselves went in I took Bethany's arm and whispered - 'Let's recapture a little of our mis-spent youth.' - and guided her to the far back corner seat.

"I can't imagine what you might have in mind sir, but please remember that I am here to see this filmic masterpiece!' she said with just a hint of the cheekily curling grin that was quite enough to set my heart a-fluttering.

Once the usual panoply of mind-numbingly boring advertisements and promotions for 'future screenings' had been exhausted and the house lights began to dim, I slid my arm along the top of the back of our love-seat, and curled my fingers over Bethany's shoulder. She glanced briefly sideways, smiled, moved herself fractionally closer to me, then we relaxed as film's credits began to roll.

The film was of course set in one of those darkly gothic mansions that were so much sought after by the newly wealthy early Victorians; every room cluttered with both large, heavy furniture, and each surface filled with either objets d'art or an assortment of bric-a-brac. Although the windows were themselves large, most were draped with thick and heavy velvet curtains so what little daylight was allowed in from the usually lowering grey skies outside, was no more than thin bands of filtered greyness. And as the evenings and nights were lit only by candelabra or hand-held candles, the entire film seemed to have been shot with an eye on the budget for the electricity.

But the darkness actually suited me, it meant that coupled with the sparsity of people in the rows further ahead of us, whatever I was eventually permitted to get up to with Bethany, would be all but unseeable.

In fact I did nothing for the first fifteen or twenty minutes, allowing her to enjoy the film she had been so anxious to see, but when I found the turgidity of the dialogue - and the apparent lack of any heaving bosoms to distract me - I withdrew my arm a fraction, then, having brushed her hair back a little, I allowed my fingers to trace light, stroking patterns on the back of Bethany's neck.

I had known for some time that her neck and ears had always been a couple of her most sensitive places, and even that first gently tender touch was enough to send a small, but quite distinct shiver of pleasure through her. So, when a minute or two later I gathered her hair into a single bunch, so as to expose that part of her neck that was nearest to me, then leaned across and pressed my lips to it, I was not too surprised to feel her shuddering even more strongly.

I held my mouth there, allowing just the very tip of my tongue to tickle up and down the nape, enjoying the slightly salty taste of her skin, then slowly moving my head back and forth, spreading those teasingly tickling butterfly-kisses across as much of that silkily pale surface as I could easily reach.

Apart from more of those gently shaking shudders, she otherwise appeared to maintain her film-watching composure, that is until I began doing much the same thing to the area along the base of her jaw-line, and up around her ear - then I felt her tensing, with either nervousness, or excited anticipation.

And when my lips brushed across her actual cheek, she finally turned her head towards me, her lips parted, her eyes almost beseeching me to kiss her. Which of course I did - at first lightly, then with just slightly more pressure.

For some time we did no more than that - Bethany keeping half an eye and one ear on what was taking place on the screen, otherwise joining with me in exchanging those, mostly brief, but undoubtedly tenderly loving little kisses.

In one of the moments we took to take a deeper breath of air, I glanced downward, and given the thinness of her cotton dress, the sharp little point of her obviously engorged nipple was unmistakeable. So I shifted slightly, giving myself that much more room to move, and when our lips met again, I slipped one hand up to enfold the breast nearest to me. Even with our mouths joined, I could feel both her sudden in-taking gasp and the accompanying body spasm, as she felt my fingers close around it.

So, from then on, as we continued kissing, I slowly, gently, but insistently, caressed the firmness of her breast, and, from time to time, teased the increasing spikiness of her ever more sensitive nipple.

I had certainly not set out with the intention of doing so - in fact I doubt if I would have thought it was possible - but some little while later the increasing tension in her body, and the heavily muffled moaning gasps she gave, told me she was actually approaching an orgasm.

And when I fractionally intensified my caresses, concentrating even more determinedly on that heavily swollen nipple, she had to jam her mouth hard up against mine - thrusting her tongue deep into it - just to stifle the otherwise loud cries she would have emitted as she reached it.

As she did so, she reached up, grabbed by hand and as her body arched backwards from the force of what was rippling through her, jammed it down between her suddenly more wide-spread thighs.

Even through her dress and panties, I could feel just how wet she'd suddenly become, and turning my hand and curling my fingers, I cupped her still spasming pussy, and held it tightly and lovingly.

It took her a few minutes to recover from the unexpected power of what had happened to her, and I continued holding her - and felt myself becoming aroused from just doing so - long after her breathing had fully returned to normal.

'That was very wicked of you!' she whispered.

'But nice!'

'Oh yes my darling - very, very nice! But I just hope I haven't stained these beautiful seats.' she added rather more anxiously as she shifted herself uneasily.

'I doubt you would be the first one to do so my love - I think what we've just done might be very trifling by comparison with what some of the youngsters get up to back here.'

She giggled - 'Well I'd have to say they simply don't know what they've been missing. Although I did surprise myself by responding as powerfully as I did. It just proves that kissing can be a very powerful turn-on, that is if it's done in the right way - and by the right man!' she added emotionally.




Chapter 9

We watched the remainder of the film with comparatively good behaviour, Bethany happy for me to simply leave my hand where it had so comfortably and snugly insinuated itself, my fingers curled up under the moistly warm area around her pussy, while the heel of it pressed firmly down against her pubis.

Then, as we were leaving, she said. 'Well the first thing I'll have to do is have a shower and put on some fresh underwear.'

'Oh no, I don't think so!' I responded, slipping my hand down from around her waist, and up to take a firm grasp of her bottom. 'You should know by now that I absolutely love the smell of you when you're aroused - the scent of a woman 'in heat' is by far the single most powerful aphrodisiac - at least for me it is. I've been looking forward to doing what I know we both enjoy so much, so please don't even think of depriving me of that.'

She turned her head towards me, and I saw a flush suddenly darkening it. 'Are you sure you want to do that before I even wash myself a little?' she asked somewhat apprehensively.

'Of course I do - as I said, I absolutely love the smell of you when you're excited. And apart from that, it's one certain way of always giving me an erection.' I added, squeezing her just a little more firmly.

'Well in that case, what girl could possibly refuse you.' she replied, her eyes glinting as a much happier look spread across her face. Then, once we turned off the main street into the more dimly lit road in which she lived, after quickly glancing around behind us, she reached back and pressed my hand both rather lower and even more firmly against herself, and said. 'I rather like the feel of that!'

Of course I more than liked it - the feel of her bottom cheeks moving against my hand was simply delightful, and the erection I had had on and off during the hour or so I had been kissing and caressing her, very quickly re-energised itself - and as we walked towards her home the constraining pressure of my trousers only added to my rapidly rising excitement.

So much so that we had hardly closed the door behind ourselves before I was scrabbling with her long, Indian cotton dress, tugging its thin but voluminous folds upwards, exposing the truly sodden pair of flimsy panties that was all that she wore beneath it.

I knelt, my nose crinkling as I breathed in the pungently powerful odour of her sexual arousal when I tugged that sopping garment downwards off her, and remembering how she'd enjoyed the feel of my hand against her bottom, I turned her so she was facing one of the arm-chairs. 'Hold on to the arms for support and bend yourself forward please.' I whispered huskily, shifting her legs apart as I helped her into the position that had suddenly occurred to me.

With Bethany bent forward like that, her hair falling forwards down over her shoulders I had the entire plane of her gracefully tapering back and gorgeous bottom to stroke, caress and kiss - and I made the very most of the opportunity to do so. Nibbling at her neck and shoulders - occasionally giving her an unexpectedly sharply biting nip - as my hands slowly and lightly slid up and down the entire length of her, every now and then my fingers burrowing deeply into the erotically charged space down between her bottom cheeks.

Although most of the time I used every instrument I had to stimulate her; lips, tongue, teeth and of course both sets of extra busy fingers, occasionally - and without missing more than probably a beat or two in the complex rhapsody of stimuli I was providing her - I used one of my hands to gradually unbutton and unzip myself, until I was as naked as she was.

By then I had definitely identified the fact that Bethany's arse seemed very nearly as responsive to my touch as both her breasts and pussy had proved to be, so, making the most of that opportunity, once stripped, I knelt behind her and as my fingers gently splayed her cheeks apart, I bent forward and slowly licked my way along the deep fleshy cleft between them. Her reaction was absolutely instantaneous, and the juddering shudder that shook her told me just how powerfully that kind of caress affected her - so I repeated that slow upward lick several more times, then stiffened my tongue and used the tip of it to probe the tightly wrinkled entry at the base of that valley.

The rapid increase in her overall sexual tension was all too apparent; her muscular spasms, coupled with the intermittently gasping groans, said it all.




Choral Evenings Pt. 01



So while my mouth stayed buried in the crack between her bottom cheeks - my tongue sometimes licking, and sometime probing deeply - I curled both arms around her, and with one set of fingers, found her pussy, while the other targeted her by then stiffly ridged clitoris.

The orgasm she experienced quite shortly after, seemed to be one of her strongest - if the one she'd had in the cinema could have been described as an 'earth tremor', that later one was a full-force 'earthquake' - one quite off the Richter scale, and more than powerful enough to wreck an entire local civilisation...

But even when I'd taken her through to the end of that one, I was certainly not yet finished with her. Even as I felt the rolling climax tapering down, I slid myself lower, turned over on to my back, then pushed my head up between her legs, and, taking her by then positively dripping pussy in my mouth, I stuck my tongue as far inside as I could get it, and sucked her.

She literally screeched, long and loudly - her body shaking from toe to tip as her entire body seemed to react to the forces, apparently triggering responses from each and every single fibre and nerve-ending.

Of course by then, after the overly long period of mounting tension in the cinema, coupled with the excitement I'd received from caressing her, my own needs had grown to unbearable and almost uncontrollable proportions - which Bethany obviously realised.

'Do it this way Mark, while I'm bent over like this.' she said invitingly once she'd got her breath back, and as I was pushing myself back out from between her legs and up to my feet again.

She really did have a truly beautiful bottom. The perfectly symmetrical cheeks generously full, but tautly firm, the completely unmarked, creamy white skin stretched tightly over them - and for a moment I recalled the pleasure I'd received from merely stroking, kissing and licking its silky smoothness.

Even as I momentarily looked down at her I heard her say in a much lower and huskier voice. 'And this time, just don't worry about me - just do it as hard and as fast as you probably now need to.' And as she spoke, shifting her legs wider and at the same time dropping her head and shoulders down on to the seat of the chair and so lifting her arse even higher.

What she'd said and her eager physical submissiveness made my heart race even faster, sending even more blood pounding through my veins and robbing me of any of the self-control or restraint I had been showing until then.

Her pussy was so slick that it took only a single push to embed most of my strongly throbbing cock deep inside her, and although she was more than ready for it, by then it had become so engorged that Bethany gave a loud gasp as she fully realised just how much of its rigidly hot length I had suddenly driven into her.

Even though her pussy was literally dripping wet, driving forward generated enormous friction between my cock-head and its lining - friction that sent electrifying thrills surging through me, thrills so strong I couldn't suppress my own, much deeper, more guttural response. Then our excited grunts blended as I gripped her bottom and gave a sharper thrust, burying it right up to the hilt.

My cock felt so sizzling hot and her pussy so delightfully juicy that I thought about holding it there for a minute, letting it bathe in those balming fluids until it had cooled off a little. But even as those thoughts were competing to make themselves heard, what was happening inside the rest of me was completely overwhelming them, giving me absolutely no say in what I did.

Unusually for me, I was feeling absolutely desperate - the sexual tension and pressure inside me had risen so high it felt almost dangerously so. And, as if to provide further, quite unneeded impetus, Bethany's words continued to ring inside me. 'Just do it, as hard, as fast as you need to!'

When she'd said that she couldn't have imagined just how compelling that need actually might be, but she must have then got a very much clearer understanding when my hands spread her arse cheeks even wider apart and my cock began powering in and out of her.

Later, when I looked back at how I did what I did, I had to admit to feeling ashamed of both the way I went about it, and even more importantly, how for once I had not even given a passing thought as to how Bethany might feel about being fucked so mindlessly. But by then the purely primitive region of my brain had taken over, and to it Bethany herself was irrelevant, all that mattered was that she had a cunt, a cunt that could relieve that incredible pressure, a cunt in which to unload the churning mass of semen.

I was vaguely aware of how tightly my hands were gripping her soft flesh, of the speed and power I was using to thrust in and out, of the bruising my balls were getting as they whacked against the backs of her thighs, and to an even lesser degree, of the grunts and gasping groans we were both making. But in a way it was as though those things were happening to someone else, I even seemed to be experiencing the thrilling sensations coursing back through my cock by proxy.

The only thing filling my head was the need to reduce the almost unbearable need, to bring it to a finality, to get off, to climax.

Thankfully, and I suppose not too surprisingly, that time it didn't take very long. After what could have been only been a few minutes frenzied pounding, it was as though some electrical circuit inside my brain had been reconnected, I suddenly found I was fully aware of everything that was happening. I could hear the combined gasping grunts we were both making, feel the silky firmness of Bethany's buttocks in my hands, feel the slick tightness of her pussy, and the sensations surging back from my powerfully thrusting cock. 

But, even more clearly, I could feel the quickly rising surge building inside me.

At the very same moment the haze that had been obscuring my vision also cleared; I saw the pale globes of Bethany's sharply upthrusting buttocks, and saw from the tension in her back and shoulders just how much effort she was having to use to withstand what I was doing to her.

Then I felt it start, felt the draining surge as the mass of semen reached criticality, felt muscles tensing, felt my cock expanding in readiness for what was about to be pumped up through it. And a moment later the sudden dizzy rush hit me, I felt the intense pleasure-pain of the first load scorching up though me, and heard the unstoppable, deep, yet loud and exultant exclamation that accompanied it.

My entire body arched; my hips and pelvis ramming forward and forcing my exploding cock even deeper into Bethany - then she gave a barely muffled shriek as she felt the first load blasting into her.

Her reaction only seemed to further fire me, my pistoning growing even stronger, driving my still spouting cock even deeper, the force behind each thrust making Bethany sob as she took every single drop I had to give her.




Chapter 10

Of course once I had finally unloaded everything I had into her and we had held ourselves locked so tightly together while we each regained at least a little more control of our until then purely lust driven bodies, we were not only both freely perspiring, but were liberally and messily smeared with each other's juices. So once I had pulled back out of her we decided that before doing anything else, we both needed a shower. And, perhaps as a way of lightening what was still an aura of steamily bubbling carnality between us, we decided to share it.

Whilst it was a bit of a tight fit in the shower recess, we actually made the most of that, and in between lovingly soaping and washing each other, also giggled as we slyly groped and fondled one another.

Once done, and with no more than a light bath-robe for covering - which enabled still more of that sometimes quite intimate fumbling - as by then we had each developed a different kind of appetite, we set about preparing a late snack for ourselves, to which I added one of the several bottles of wine I had brought round with me.

When we began to eat, I noticed the light-hearted mood we had been sharing, seemed to have deserted Bethany - she appeared to have become much more introspectively thoughtful.

'A penny for them!' I asked after quite a lengthy period of silence.

She looked up, clearly startled, then, realising she had been lost in thought, she apologised. 'Sorry Mark - I really was doing a bit of day-dreaming for a while.'

'Is everything OK? I mean I haven't left you feeling sore, or anything?' I asked with obvious concern

'Oh no! Goodness no - I absolutely loved every moment of what you did. And I'm not a delicately fragile little flower you know - I'm quite capable of taking whatever you feel like doing. Well, at least when it comes to sex that is!' she added with that curling half-grin of hers. Then she added - 'No, to tell you the truth, what I was thinking about was that, well, if you'd wanted to, I could have taken you the other way - you know?'

'You mean anally?' I asked, my bluntness triggering a faint blush to her cheeks.

'Yes, precisely! I know many men really like it that way - I mean a woman is so much tighter there. And all men like that, don't they?'

'I understand so Bethany - though it's not something I've ever done.' I answered truthfully.

'Really! That surprises me.'

'Well my wife wouldn't let me have anything to do with her bottom - she didn't really like me even holding her there, and certainly would never have let me lick her the way I did you. And as for sex that way - well I doubt she'd even think about such a thing!'

'So you're an anal virgin?' she said with a positively fiendishly broad grin.

"I guess you could say that.'

'And do you want to stay that way? Or is it a deficiency we should try to rectify - sometime, not necessarily tonight.' she added quickly.

'I think all knowledge is beneficial - so sometime when you feel up to it, most definitely. That's another area of learning you can impart to me - your teaching skills are being used in a wide variety of disciplines, aren't they! But -' I added. ' - I always thought it must be painful for the woman?'

'Not in the right circumstances Mark, definitely not! But if the time and place are right - and of course the man! Who does need to initially be a bit more considerate than he does when doing it the normal way - as I'm sure you would be of course. No, there's no need for it to be at all painful - it's a completely different sort of feeling of course, but there are a mass of nerve endings around there, so if everything else is OK, it can actually be extremely exciting.'

'Then we'll definitely add it to our 'To Do' list!'

'And while we are talking about such things, you really surprised me in the cinema.'

'In a nice way I hope!' I responded.

'Oh, not just nice Mark - what you did was absolutely wonderful! But I'm amazed you were able to keep going so lovingly - I mean for such a long, long time. I would have thought that your natural responses would have made that rather difficult for you. I mean, you must have got excited too!' she added.

'Of course I did Bethany, touching you always gets me excited, you must have noticed!' I replied with a grin.

'Well that's just what I meant. I mean it must have been difficult - if not painful - to have an erection in such a cramped position . You did have one, didn't you?'

'Most definitely - and there were a couple of times when, if you'd just reached out and touched it, I'm bloody sure I would have gone off right then. And as it's hard for a guy to hide a stain in that part of his pants, in some ways I'm very glad you didn't.'

Bethany gave a low, quiet little chuckle. 'Maybe that's something I should try, some other time. It might be fun to watch you trying to cover yourself as we made our way down the High Street!'

'Heartless witch!' I retorted. 'In that case it looks as though I'm going to have to be very much more careful as to what and where and when I start kissing or caressing you.'

'Oh no, please don't do that! I love those little intimate moments we share - if I promise to be a good girl, will you promise to continue as we've started?'

'Of course - I love those times too.' I replied affectionately.

Much of the rest of the meal was spent in gazing deeply into each other's eyes, holding hands across the table, and sometimes a foot would tentatively see how far up the other's leg it could go without either of us tipping backwards off our chairs. Then, once we had tidied up the kitchen we went, hand-in-hand to the bed-room.

As the night was still quite hot we agreed to dispense with any covering and lay, close, and nakedly beside each other. 'What I said while we were eating, I mean about me being surprised at how long you could keep going without getting too painfully excited - I'd like to, well I suppose 'repay' sounds a very odd word to use, but you do deserve some small reward for being such an unselfish lover. So this time, why don't you just stay lying there and let Bethany do something, hopefully nice, for you - in return.'

'You don't have to -' I began to say, then shut-up when she slid down and while her hand slid up between my thighs, her face nuzzled itself against my stomach.

She pushed my legs further apart so she had as much room as possible and once she had settled herself more comfortably she paused, and I looked down to see she was simply staring at my cock. As I had found before, just having her watching me like that added fuel to my already stirring excitement and I felt it starting to pulse. And when a few moments later she reached out and touched it, I couldn't stifle either its sudden jerk or the involuntary gasp of pleasure I got from feeling her finger-tips running lightly up and down its length.

'For something that's so strong and powerful it's amazingly sensitive, isn't it.' she said with a catch in her voice as she saw the growing strength of the reactions her fluttering fingers generated.

I agreed, and she looked up and gave me a tight smile, then curled them around the steadily thickening shaft, tightening them slightly as she said. 'It feels incredible, already hot and quickly getting hard.' She paused for a moment or two, intently watching it as it quivered from the still increasing tension, then added. 'And it's so vibrantly alive, it's almost as though it's quite a separate being.'

As she finished speaking she leaned forward and brushed the soft curve of her cheek against it. It was a simple enough gesture but the feel of her skin brushing lightly against the already sensitised head made every single nerve ending fire, and as my cock jerked in response, a powerful tremor ran through my entire body.

Seeing how strongly I responded to that she repeated the move several more times, getting an equally powerful reaction each time. 'He really likes that.' She said thoughtfully. 'But I think he'll like this even more!' she added, then trailed the tip of her tongue around the groove below the head, before slowly swiping it up and over the tip.

'I'd like to be able to feel your balls too.' she said after she saw my even stronger response to that. 'Just hold on a moment while I pull a pillow down and push it up under your bottom, that way I'll be able to get my hand under them.'

We did as she'd suggested and then as I lay back again I gave a low sigh of pleasure as I felt her hand curl under the sac, and a louder gasp as she began licking the head while her fingers gently, quite tentatively at first, rolled and fondled my balls.

She didn't do anything more than that for next few minutes but even so I felt my cock starting to throb as the sensations she generated sent fresh blood surging up into it.

'Have you been wondering why I really want to do this for you?' she asked in a low, almost hesitant voice.

'A bit.'

'Shall I tell you why?'

'Only if you want to.'

'Well of course I know all men really like blow-jobs, and I want to try to give you as much pleasure as you give me when you lick my pussy. But I also want to know what it feels like to have your cock in my mouth, and then what it tastes like when you come. But those aren't the only reasons.' she added quickly. 'The main one is so I can see the expression on your face when you climax. Because you always make me come either before or at the same time as you do, up to now I've always had my eyes shut. I've tried but I just can't keep them open when I reach orgasm. But this way I'll finally be able to watch you.'

'Why is that so important?'

'It's a bit hard to put into words Mark, but there's something really exciting about seeing the release of powerful forces. I mean think about the way people react when they're watching sport, the crowd's frenzied excitement when someone does something brilliant. I don't know about men but I bet most women wet their knickers when they see a really powerful athlete in action, I know I do. And that's just from seeing them from a distance, or watching them on TV. Well I'm sure I'll get a similar feeling when I watch you come, when I see the sudden release of all that pent up force.'

'And there's something else.' she said after a thoughtful pause. 'When we are doing things to each other, as well as all the wonderful sensations you give me, there's something else going on, inside my head. Even while my body is reacting to what you are doing to me, I get this weird feeling, sort of in the background. As I feel all the tension building inside you I get these other feelings from knowing it's me, my body, that's the cause of all that pressure.

I was reminded of it earlier, when you were lying there, when I saw how strongly your cock reacted to just a really light touch.' She took another, longer pause, closing her eyes and as I guessed she was probably re-living those moments I remained silent. Then she opened them again and continued. 'So doing it for you while there's nothing else going on, I mean while you're not doing things to me, will give me a chance to find out what that's all about.

Does all that make any sense Mark?'

'Of course it does Bethany. Being a sexually active human being is a very complex business. And we have only just started being sexual partners so of course we are discovering all sorts of things together. And hopefully, as we continue on we will be constantly finding things about not only each other, but perhaps also some news things about ourselves. And maybe we had each better be prepared to expect to be really surprised by some of those things.'

Her hands hadn't been idle while we had been talking; one continued slowly and gently hefting and rolling my balls, the other slipping equally slowly and even more effectively up and down the quivering shaft. And my body had quite naturally responded to the effect of her continued caresses. 

Then, although I wasn't consciously aware of any change in what she was doing, so maybe it was just that the pressure building inside me reached a critical level, but I suddenly felt my cock begin to jerk much more strongly. 

'Ah, he's getting impatient.' she said, then looked up into my eyes as she licked her lips and then slowly slipped them down over the bulging cock-head.

I suppose that after all the time I'd spent thinking of her doing it I shouldn't really have been surprised at the strength of my reaction as I watched her slowly bobbing head. Shouldn't have been, but was - the intensity of the thrills that coursed through me were simply incredible.

Her lips produced shock-like waves that shot straight up my spine as they rubbed up and down over the rim. Then there was the excitement I got from the feel of her hands and fingers, one rolling and fondling my balls while the other continued slowly stroking the shaft. And on top of that, each time she sucked me it felt as though more blood was being drawn up into the throbbing length, making it even more sensitive.




Choral Evenings Pt. 02



Chapter 13

Now obviously that throat-reverberation induced climax was not the end of the glorious Sunday Bethany and I had before her boys returned from their camping excursion - in fact, very far from it!

And although the climax she had gifted to me was undoubtedly the most strange, and perhaps even the most gut-wrenchingly powerful one I had experienced until then - making me feel that my body had been forced to draw on whatever reserves of energy it happened to have stored in any and every single part of me to power it - the sheer force of it, although leaving me feeling positively dizzyingly weak-kneed, was not the most amazing aspect of it.

The most remarkable thing - once I had re-gathered my wits sufficiently to become aware of it - was that it had not left me with the feeling of satiety and lassitude that seems to always affect nearly all men immediately after most of their orgasms. It seems Mother Nature played one of her numerous tricks with we humans - so that just when a woman is most in need of feeling her partner's arms around her; holding her, cuddling her, gently caressing her - he is usually to be found slowly drifting off into some form of restorative slumber.

And I am the first to admit that such feelings generally wash over me too. But not that time! In fact the very last thing I wanted to do was to go off to sleep, what I wanted, needed, in fact felt a compulsion to do, was to somehow become even more 'at one' with Bethany than I already felt I was. Just in the way the realisation of my love for her had flooded me just after sunrise, so at that moment I experienced feelings of wanting to truly be one with her, totally swamping me.

'Oh my darling, you'll never know just how fabulous that was for me!' I exclaimed huskily. 'I've never, ever felt anything like that - and wouldn't know how to even begin describe those feelings.'

'I'm so glad Mark - even though I've never heard of anyone coming by just being sung to!' she added with a grin.

I pulled her up to her feet, hugged her, then, gripping her bottom and jamming her hard up against myself, I kissed her still semen smeared lips.

We clung together, kissing deeply and passionately - but when we did eventually have to break for air, I took her down to where the picnic things were lying, spread the blanket on the softest section of the grass, then, having tugged her t-shirt up and off her and then, equally quickly, discarded her skirt, I gently eased her downward.

'I'm going to kiss you all over.' I whispered. 'So you just lie there and let yourself drift off to wherever you wish to.' I added as I used my finger-tips to tenderly close her eyes.

As always with our love-making, I completely lost track of time - time was a pure irrelevancy, all that was important was that I be the closest I could to her, to my darling Bethany, she who was the new centre of my world, my existence. And if that meant half a life-time kissing and stroking her, that would be my true happiness.

So I kissed her; kissed her just closed eyes, her ears, her nose, nuzzled my face in the curve of her neck, her shoulders - again, again, and over again.

In between my kisses I whispered to her. 'I am the softness of a Summer's breeze, a gentle zephyr that has been sent to caress you, to caress the consummate beauty of you. It is your beauty that has captivated the gods that summon these breezes, and it was their wish that each and every part of you be you be delighted in this way.'

Then I moved down to her breasts, those sweetly uptilted curving parts of her - and the slowly stiffening nipples that surmounted them. Kissing, licking, even nibblingly suckling them - all the time using my fingers to softly and gently caress their firm fullness.

After spending even longer on those parts of her than I had on her face and neck, I moved even lower, treating her stomach to more of those loving kissing and fondlings.

But then, if she had expected me - as she probably had done - to move to what lay nestling between her thighs, I surprised her. Pushing myself all the way down to her feet, and treating them, and her toes, and even the narrow crevices between them, to more licks, sucks and kisses.

From there I began to move slowly upwards; licking and stroking her shins, knees and thighs - and of course paying much more special attention to that ultra-soft flesh that covered the insides of them.

Only then - after she had moved her legs apart so my kisses could reach all the way down between them - only then did I begin to head towards the already nectar-laden folds I could see awaiting me at their apex.

Spreading her legs even further apart I crouched there; slipping my longest finger just within those already moistly pouting pussy-lips, and as I did so, bending low, so my tongue could add its part in providing her with the greatest possible level of pleasure.

During the time I had spent kissing and caressing her, Bethany had remained relatively silent, merely giving the occasional breathy sigh, soft moan, and every now and then - and only when I targeted some particularly tender spot - a sharply indrawn hiss of increased excitement.

But as my fingers and tongue began to stimulate her pussy and clitoris, those sounds both intensified and grew far, far more frequent. At the same time her body arched itself upwards, pushing her pussy even more firmly down on to my still probing fingers and also against what my mouth and tongue were doing for her.

Then writhing jerkily as she drove herself towards the inevitable climax.

Even so, even when that had exhausted itself, I was not finished with her. I still ached for that perfect oneness with her, with her body, with her very being - and the only way I knew to achieve that, was to continue doing more of what I had already done.

So, once the rippling waves of her orgasm seemed to be waning - I rolled her over to lie face down - and began doing exactly what I had, but to the back of her.

I doubt that I spent as much time making love to her back, as I had to the front of her - but it would have been only a matter of a minute or two less - and I, and clearly Bethany, loved every single second of it.

While I was licking and stroking her back, her shoulders, even her legs, she lay there, just moaning and occasionally gasping - but once I slid one hand beneath her and lifted her, so I could lick down in the crack between her bottom cheeks, she immediately began to react even more strongly.

For a moment I was of course tempted to either do what I had done the previous evening, or even to take the alternative route she had blushingly offered to me - but I knew that this time I needed to be able to see her face as I made love with her. So I once again rolled her over.

Then I literally buried my face back down between her thighs - that time nibbling her still stiffly swollen clitoris, then taking her entire pussy in my mouth, and sucking her.

Bethany squealed, loudly, wriggling herself even harder against me, her entire body writhing as I continued re-stimulating her still excitedly spasming pussy and clitoris.

But then - although both croaky and breathless - I heard her. 'I want you Mark! I want you now! I need to feel you hard and deep inside me!'

By then I was certainly ready for her, my re-energised cock was once again rock-hard, quivering in anticipation of what lay in store for us. And because I had spent so much time making love to her, she not only had the secretions from her earlier climax lubricating her, but those that I had triggered as I'd licked and sucked her. So, once I had the tip of my cock in her, I then had no trouble in thrusting the entire length of the rest of it where she had called for it to be, deep, deep inside her.

But then, just as I had with everything else I had done, I pushed back and forth, slowly - plunging deeply and savouring the intensity of the sensations that her slick tightness produced for me. Sensations that coursed straight up my spine, sometimes jolting me with the amount of ecstatic exhilaration they gave me.

Now in spite of the power of those feelings, I obtained others from being able to see the expressions on Bethany's face as my thrusting drove her towards yet another climax. Sometimes her big brown eyes stared fixedly up into mine, and both their wide-eyed look of amazement at my potency - and their almost insensibly glazed one of sheer rapture - thrilled me just as much as did the purely physical excitement of the feel of her pussy clutching my cock so tightly.

Bethany seemed to derive similar feelings to those I was experiencing, her previous low moans turning to more sharply emitted cries of ever increasing excitement. Cries that grew even louder and shriller when she eventually felt me verging on the brink of my orgasm.

But then, when I was about to make my thrusting both faster and much more powerful - I felt her heaving herself upwards; and lifting her legs, she curled them around me, around my waist, then locked them, tight.

'I can't begin to describe what it feels like - having you buried so deeply inside me darling!' She said throatily. 'It's as though my body has been waiting for just you, that only you could fill that achingly empty space that's always been inside me.' she added.

'And I've been waiting for you to come along and make my entire life whole my darling.' I answered.

'So now let's take each other to that other place - please, please Mark, take me to our private paradise!'

And together we did exactly that - with her legs making sure I continued driving as deep into her as was possible, and with the combination of the tightness of both them and her pussy doing much the same thing with my cock, it was not long before I felt my climax surging upwards from within me - and, sensing that, Bethany allowed hers to take its grip of her.

Then our rapturous sounds blended, merged, became as one - and we reached a totally synchronised and perfectly harmonised, climax - together.

*****

Once we had eventually regained at least a little of our composure, Bethany suggested we take a quick dip in the river. 'There's a spot just around the downstream side of this outcrop, the river's formed a bit of a hole there, and it has nice sandy bottom, so it's quite safe to swim in. I brought a couple of towels with me, so drying off won't be a problem.'

Getting rid of our sweat and other stickiness, sounded a really great idea, so that's what we did - just like a couple of exuberant teen-agers, we skinny-dipped.

Of course in addition to the cleansing swim, there was also good deal of horse-play between us; much laughing, splashing, along with a fair bit of pushing and shoving - not to mention the occasional quick grope of one or the other's more sensitive parts... But we made the most of the isolation that enabled us to be so playful, and that time is one that has remained vividly memorable for both of us.

More out of concern for getting sunburnt, than out of modesty, once dry, we slipped back into our clothes then settled down to enjoy that fabulous picnic that Bethany had put together for us. Then when fully replete, as the combination of both it and our previous physical exertions had made us drowsy, we lay curled up together and dozed off for a while.

I'm sure that on any other day we would have made love again once we woke, but knowing that the boys would soon be back from their camping excursion, even though Bethany responded eagerly to my kisses, I could tell she was also nervously anxious - so I, with difficulty, restrained myself.

But, once clear of the difficult fire-trail, I allowed my hand to slip across - first resting lightly on her knee, then slipping under her skirt to stroke her thigh, and in time, to edge its way even higher - until its travels, and where my fingers found themselves probing, caused her steering to became just a little too erratic, and I consoled myself with merely lovingly curling them around her.




Chapter 14

Once she had dropped me off at my place - giving me a long and lingering kiss before she let me out of the car, and then saying - 'It's been the most wonderful day of my life Mark! I just hope it will be the first of very many of them.' And I had assured her that I felt exactly the same way that she did, she added. 'But I'll have to spend some time with the boys tomorrow evening, so I won't be able to see you again until we have our next choral practice, on Tuesday.' Then, after one final kiss, she drove off, leaving me with the feeling that I was suddenly the most lonely man on the planet.

But of course the time between then and the Tuesday evening did pass relatively quickly and when I answered the door to let her in I saw that she not only had her regular hand-bag with her, but also a small valise.

'Are you planning on going somewhere?' I asked, indicating the second bag.

'Only here - that is if you'll have me!' she replied, smiling broadly. 'I had a long talk with the boys last night - explaining how you and I thought we felt about each other. Ssh!' she added when she saw I was about to interrupt her.

'I've always been very open with them about relationships - and sexuality - so they quite understood exactly what I was saying. And, although they admit they really don't know you very well yet, they say that if you're good enough for me, then that's OK with them too!' she explained. 'So it was actually their idea that I would be wanting to spend the occasional night round here - and they also said that they wouldn't mind too much if you spent some others around at our place.'

'Oh Bethany, how absolutely marvellous!' I exclaimed, reaching out and hugging her as tightly as I could.

So, having cleared spaces in both my bed-room and bath-room for the few things she had brought with her, we both decided that for once my singing practice could be forgotten, and we piled straight into bed.

Even though it had been barely forty eight hours since we had been together, the way we went at each other would have been more appropriate for a couple who had actually been parted for months!

I had a truly voracious need of her - and Bethany seemed almost totally insatiable. Certainly what we did that time could not be described as 'making love', we were far more like two beasts of the field - simply rutting.

Even when we were both done - some very long time later - we still clung tightly together, as though it was only the feel of each other's flesh beneath our gripping fingers that could convince us that where we were, and what we were experiencing was more than some purely imaginary, paradisiacal dreamland.

'I've truly never felt anything like this with any other man Mark!' she managed to say in a still no more than a raspingly hissing voice.

'Nor I my darling - I mean with any other woman!' I added hastily. But although quite unwittingly, that did manage to break the erotically charged tension between us.

'I'm very glad to hear that!' she said with a barely muffled giggle. 'But I think you'd better let me up now, because if not one of us is going to be sleeping on a very large, and very wet spot tonight.'

'So long as you remain beside me, I wouldn't care if I was sleeping in a swamp my darling.' I answered. 'But, if you'll feel more comfortable, go - but go quickly, and return even faster please!' I added as I released her.

As she scrambled nakedly from the bed I took a long and still lustfully loving look at her; at the tightness of her pert little bottom, its cheeks jiggling as she scooped up her hastily discarded clothes, then scampered from the room.

'You won't need all those!' I called after her. 'Just the dainty things I didn't get a chance to have a look at!' I added, remembering the briefest of glimpses I'd had of some silky nothingness she'd had on under her outer things.

While she was gone I used some tissues to wipe myself clean of the residual stickiness I'd accumulated during our frantic fucking, then - as the evening was still warm enough not to really need anything, put on just a pair of white silk boxers, then headed out to the kitchen.

Bethany was not gone long and when she reappeared in the door-way I quite literally held my breath - not knowing whether I wished I had taken the earlier opportunity to look at what she was wearing, or thankful that I'd had my first look at her in it when I was in a much better condition to properly appreciate it. She looked absolutely stunning! And I said so.

She was again wearing a combination of a silk and lace camisole top, with matching panties. But it was not just the figure-hugging cut, nor the way her gorgeous body filled it, that made the outfit so breathtakingly sensual - but the skilful way the designer had combined the silk and lace parts to accentuate the most feminine parts of her.

The silk was a deep lavender colour, the lace a rich creamy white, patterned with an open-work scrolling made up of a design showing a mix of roses and a few quite tiny rose-buds. The nipple of one breast was hidden by one of those little rose-buds, but the other peeped invitingly through a space in the very centre of one of the larger roses.

The lace-work continued down from one side of her breasts, following the curve of her waist, and where it ended at her hip, was picked up by the same design trailing down one side of the improbably scanty panties. They also reflected the pattern at the bodice of the top, the open-work running across to splay down over her mons, then even appearing to continue on down between her legs. That section was also decorated with the floral motif; one of the larger, more open roses allowing the shadow of her pubic hair to clearly show through it, while beneath, nestling roughly where her clitoris would be, there was just one single, and obviously still tightly furled, little rose-bud.

'That - no you - you're absolutely stunning!' I said huskily - knowing I was staring wide-eyed, but totally unable to do anything about that.

She smiled, a smile that showed she not only appreciated the genuineness of my comment - but even understood my temporary inability to express myself more comprehensively.

'And you're beginning to look especially good in those Mark.' She replied as her eyes dropped to take in the shape that must have immediately started clearly showing itself through the thin covering fabric. 'But I imagine we would both probably benefit from a bit of a rest before we start again. Don't you think so?'

'So long as you're not planning on covering up anytime soon - most definitely!' I replied. 'Now, how about a drink?'

'A glass of wine would be lovely, thank you.'

So, having opened a bottle of crisply chilled white, we sat there in the kitchen, in nothing but our underwear - Bethany in that erotically charged concoction of body-hugging, silk and form-displaying lace-work - and me in just a pair of plain white boxers.

'Here's to us my darling!' I said, raising my glass to clink it against hers.

'I'll drink to that!' she replied - then having taken the first small sip, she added. 'But now we're going to have to start to think about when and how we let at least some people know that they can expect to see us together much more often.'

'I'll put an advert in the paper.' I suggested, not entirely facetiously - but which still made her chuckle.

'Well that would certainly be one way - but we do need to think about it.'

'What about the Founders' Ball?' I asked a few moments later, for some reason suddenly remembering the notice I'd seen in the foyer of the club I had joined as a purely social member.

'Oh yes! Yes, that would be perfect darling - you are a clever man to think of it. And I'd love to have an opportunity to really dress-up for you.' she added excitedly.

'Well if I had a choice about it, I think I'd still prefer you exactly as you are now - thank you.'




Choral Evenings Pt. 02



She grinned - 'Well underneath the outward display I'll still be very much there for you - but you do have to remember that we girls always like to have an excuse to buy ourselves a new dress.'

So it was decided; we would flaunt our new-found relationship in the most public way the community provided, at the grandest function of the town's social whirl - the Annual Founders' Ball. We then went on to discuss the far more important matter, that relating to the relationship between us and the over-riding one between herself and her two teen-age boys.

'Perhaps at first you could just come around from time to time to join us for an evening meal - you know, just informally.'

'I'd certainly like that darling, and it would give me a chance to simply chat with them, you know, to find out what sorts of things interest them, maybe find some sort of common ground - in sport or something.' I answered.

So, she then spent a little while telling me something of the activities her boys liked to be involved in and although the subject of our conversation was quite serious, the contact that when we first sat down had initially been no more than a tentative one - as our feet touched each other's - became progressively more persistent.

At first it was no more than a fondly, lightly brushing touch up along the bridge of one or other's foot, a tender touch which sometimes went as far as an ankle, before returning to playfully wiggle toes against toes. But not too long after that one or other's exploration went just that little bit further, moving from the ankle up the side of the curve of the calf - and, just occasionally, daring to climb almost knee-high.

And by the time Bethany had recounted all of the boys' various clubs and activity groups, each of us had one foot slipping even higher, up between each other's knees, mine inching forward until my toes had made contact with the moistly warmth of the thin strip of silky lace covering her pussy, and by then I had the sole of Bethany's foot firmly pressing against my still slowly rearousing penis.

'More wine?' I asked in as steady a voice as I could manage.

'Why not!' she answered throatily. 'This is becoming rather too pleasant to spoil, don't you think!'

'Most definitely, most pleasant. And the possibilities may prove to be even more so!' I answered, feeling her toes probing between the slit in the front of my boxers.

So we continued sitting there on either side of the table, slowly taking small sips of wine, whilst our feet continued slowly exploring the other's much more responsive parts. And although the utterly draining effect of our energetically vigorous coupling of only a short while before meant that neither my system nor my cock were fully capable of responding as strongly as usual, the feel of her foot sliding back and forth against it were undoubtedly very exciting.

'I'm sorry I'm not yet capable of being fully responsive.' I said, afraid that Bethany might be wondering why she still had an only partially inflated version of what she knew I was capable of producing.

'I'm frankly surprised to feel any sort of reaction from you Mark, I would have thought that after what we demanded of him such a short while ago that your poor little cock might have still been soundly asleep. But I rather like this time, I mean when neither of us is probably ready for the fully orchestrated version of the wonderful music we've found we can play. This time is like the preliminary warm-up pieces that just a few members of the orchestra play together beforehand - perhaps a melodious section from the overture, or just a particularly sweet setting of a love song.'

I knew exactly what she meant, and said so. 'I do agree my darling - this time of slow arousal is somehow much more sensual, and the background sense of anticipation only enhances and strengthens that. In many ways it's even more exciting than that sudden rush of urgency I'm sure we both felt earlier - this is more like a slow-motion build-up, during which we can each feel each tingling touch with far more intensity than we can when we're caught up in that headlong rush.'

'Exactly!' she replied as her toes finally worked their way down far enough to be able to press themselves lightly against my slowly expanding cock-head.

Of course mine hadn't been idle all that time, probing around and under the edge of those silky panties, then edging their way in until they came in contact with the moistly warm pussy-lips that lay waiting for them.

So we remained there still longer, each slowly fondling the other, and each in turn responding to the gentle, but still undeniably stirring caresses we were receiving.

But of course I had one unfair advantage over Bethany, while she had no such sign to see on me, I not only had the pleasure of the view of her breasts that the lacy bodice afforded, but I could also tell at least something of how she was feeling just by observing the state of her nipples. At first they had been no more than the slightly raised centres of the dark shadow of her aureoles - but it was not that long before their engorgement made them press outwards against the lace-work, then just a minute or two later, I saw that one had popped itself spikily right through it.

Its appearance was just too much of a temptation for me, and I reached across the table, cupping her breast, and allowing my thumb to lightly brush back and forth against it.

'Oh! Oh that's nice darling!' she sighed as my thumb continued lightly stroking back and forth. 'Oh, very nice!' she exclaimed rather more forcefully when my fingers joined in by starting to caress the upcurving swell of her breast.

Yet still we both just sat there; my toes and fingers fondling those small parts of her that were accessible, her foot and toes slowly encouraging my still partially dozing cock to stir itself into greater wakefulness.




Chapter 15

I'm not sure just how long we sat there, occasionally taking another small sip of wine, as each slowly stimulated the other and, in turn savoured the sensually slow but undeniably steady build-up of our own arousal - but it was most definitely a lovingly sweet time for the both of us. Our fingers stroking, or sometimes gently intertwining. Our gaze holding each's steady but mistily longing one - those multi-hued highlights in her large brown eyes every now and then sparkling with some inner excitement. 

But although our bodies took their time in responding more strongly, in time they of course did so, and with no more than a questioningly raised eye-brow, Bethany indicated she was more than ready to progress from what was of course no more than a simple prelude to the more meaningful music that must inevitably follow.

So we made our way, quite unhurriedly - my hand cupping her bottom cheeks, hers slipping down beneath the waistband of my boxers to grip me rather more tightly - back to the bed-room. Once there, I turned her and pulled her firmly against me, and we kissed - long, deep, tongue-searching kisses, our bodies pressing ever more forcefully together, her thigh rolling itself against the then quickly stiffening length of me.

'I want to kiss and lick you, I mean your pussy.' I said gruffly, reaching down to tug her panties down over her bottom.

'Oh yes please - I love it when you do that.' she answered eagerly.

'But leave your cami on for me please.'

'My cami, why darling?'

'Apart from the fact that it's quite beautiful, I like to see and feel you through it.' I explained as I shed my shorts and lay back down across the bed. 'Now come up here, kneel above me.' I added.

Bethany of course needed absolutely no encouragement, scrambling up and straddling me so her pussy hovered just inches above my mouth.

The scent of her arousal was already strong, and I felt my cock responding in the way that it always did when I smelt her there, felt it jerking itself almost upright. But, ignoring that, I reached around and gently eased her lower, so the tip of my tongue could reach her, reach her already poutingly swollen pussy-lips.

Then I spent an age licking, teasing, kissing, nuzzling, sometimes gently nibbling, her sex. Only some time later allowing my stiffened tongue to plunge deep inside her, and sometimes simply licking the dribbling moisture from her. And only when her soft moans turned to more impassioned grunting gasps of rising pleasure, using it to actually flicker up and across her firmly swollen clitoris.

As I began doing that I slid my hands up and found her spikingly swollen breasts, feeling the warm firmness of them even through the silky lace that hid them from me. Gently squeezing them as my tongue moved quicker, then, as its tempo increased, rolling their jutting nipples between my fingers.

She literally gushed as she came, her juices filling my mouth as her body shook from the force of the convulsions that gripped it. I quickly swallowed, took a gulp of air, and continued on, feeling her ride a second of those series of roller-coaster waves.

Even while she was still in the grip of it I felt her reaching around behind herself, reaching for my by then strainingly throbbing cock. 'Oh god Mark - I need you, I need you inside me again!' she gasped.

'Help yourself darling.' was all I was capable of saying right then.

Bethany wriggled herself backwards, lifted, reached down for me again, then slid herself slowly but determinedly down the full length of me. 'Oooh!' we both moaned as I felt the slick tightness of her pussy drawing me deep, and she took the entire length of my rigid cock inside her.

But, as she settled herself, I had an idea, something we had not done together before. 'Don't move yet darling.' I grunted. 'Just do it to yourself.' I added as I took her hands and drew them down to rest between her thighs.

'You wouldn't mind me doing that?' she asked, immediately understanding what I meant.

'Of course not, we have plenty of time, and with the juicy warmth of you holding me so lovingly, I can wait as long as you need to me to. And anyway -' I added as I slipped my hands back up to her breasts - 'in the meantime I can enjoy myself with just these boutique beauties.' Grinning as I used the term we'd arrived at to best describe her small but undoubtedly beautiful curves.

And that's exactly what we did. While my cock remained firmly embedded to the very core of her - every now and then twitching jerkily as some movement of hers sent an extra jolt of excitement through me - and my hands and fingers caressed, fondled and tweaked her still silk covered breasts and nipples, she teased and rubbed herself towards yet another - if possible - even stronger climax.

Only then, only once she had taken herself through to very end of it, only after I had felt her pussy trying unsuccessfully to grip me hard enough to trigger my own release, only then did she begin to ride me. Ride me slowly enough that I might have that much longer time in which to enjoy the increasing pressure inside me, but ride me strongly enough to continue sending that pressure ever higher and higher.

In the end, during the last minute or two, she was pushing herself up and down so forcefully that it felt as though I had my cock buried in some sort of suction pump - a pump with just one objective, and that was, to drain every last drop of semen from me.

And Bethany did that, finally - and as our combined shrieks and cries of incredulous exhilaration echoed back from the walls around us - her pussy was suddenly flooded with the successively explosive gouts she forced from me as she pumped my erupting cock with her wild, almost frenzied action.

Once we had completely done with each other she simply collapsed forward, pressing herself down against the full length of my still breathlessly gasping body. 'It just seems to get better and better between us darling.' she gasped in my ear. 'How long do you think it will take us to reach some sort of plateaux?'

'Don't ask me questions like that - and especially not at a time like this.' I managed to mutter. 'But who the hell cares, it's going to be utterly fantastic in the meantime!'

Bethany giggled. 'Oh yes, of I do so hope so.' Then lifted herself, just sufficiently to weld her mouth against mine.

*****

Now we had of course both eaten before she'd arrived, but we quickly discovered that the sheer physicality of what we had done with each other in the subsequent hour or two had by then left both of us feeling not only hot and sweaty, but also decidedly peckish.

So we again took the opportunity to shower together, each laughing and giggling as hands and fingers groped wherever they felt like, then, having slipped into just bath-robes, we headed for the kitchen to make ourselves a well deserved snack.

Once we had prepared it I suggested we carry it through to the lounge-room, where we could listen to some music whilst we ate, and having put on some Brahms and Mendelssohn to accompany us, we sat eating and drinking the rest of the bottle I had previously opened.

That was an absolutely blissful time; neither of us needing to say very much - just the occasional word or two of appreciation at some particularly fine passage in the music - mostly just savouring the perfectly harmonious enjoyment of both it, and each other's company. It's a rare human being that one can enjoy being with in perfect silence, there being nothing but the shared emotional feeling between you - but I had quickly discovered that for me, Bethany was precisely just such a woman.

Although our more physical times together were the most sublimely exciting times, taking me to places neither I not my body had ever been before - these other times, just sharing the music with her, were in their own way, equally wonderful.

And what made such times all the more pleasurable, was knowing that she too shared exactly the same enjoyment. The half smile she occasionally gave me, told me that, as did the softly loving look in her eyes that accompanied it.

So we shared an hour or more of music and, although neither one of us even stretched out a hand to simply touch the other, even each other's presence.

Then, as Bethany had warned me that she would need to get up relatively early, so she could get back around to her place to wake and make sure her boys were ready for their school day, once we had cleaned up the remains of our meal, we headed off to bed.

After the tumultuous couplings we'd already shared, I rather doubted that either of us would need, or perhaps be capable of any more loving - but I was wrong about that.

Although at first we simply lay there; curled together, our lips brushing, our hands wandering idly, in time her body, her scent, her very nearness, brought those deeper feelings to the surface - and as my senses grew even more acutely aware of her essential femininity, I felt my cock slowly making itself all too apparent.

'Is that what I think it is?' Bethany whispered, reaching her hand down between us.

'I'm afraid so - it can make a bit of a nuisance of itself sometimes.' I responded.

'Oh no, that part of you is never a nuisance Mark! But if it's getting in your way, I have just the right place for you to put it - somewhere where you could sort of tuck it tidily out of you way. But that is only if you'd like to!' she added with a low giggle.

Of course I didn't need to be told twice, and within a few minutes we were each transporting the other to the blissful place that only we two could ever reach - then, when both had been more than ecstatically sated, and while still locked securely in each other's embrace, we happily drifted off to dreamland together.

*****

In the time since I'd had my very first glimpse of Bethany, my productivity level at work had dropped off quite a little; the days when I had been organising the purchase, reconditioning and then delivery of the piano had been just some of those when my mind had been more busily occupied elsewhere.

But none of them were as unproductive as the day following Bethany's news that she had spoken to, and essentially gained permission from, her boys. Of course I still had to get to know them individually and, hopefully, establish some sort of rapport with them - but at least that first, and in many ways, steepest hurdle, had been cleared successfully.

Perhaps that was why I spent a good part of that particular day lost in thought; thoughts of how Bethany and I had met, what had happened between us, and also what still lay ahead for us.

I could still quite vividly recall that very first evening; when I'd caught my first glimpse of her - even when she had been no more than one woman amongst an entire phalanx of choristers. Recall the impact just that sight had had on me. The decidedly obsessive way I had searched for her, both at the interval and after the performance. Even recall at least something of the sheer force of the feelings that had surged through me.

Then of course there had been those evenings when she had been coaching me with the Poulenc piece - the evening when I'd noticed that waywardly stray tendril of hair. I could still recall the tingling thrill I'd felt when I had reached down and moved it aside, recall the brief but intensely powerful feeling I'd had as my finger-tip lightly brushed against her neck.

But even those thoughts paled - not into insignificance, but in some intensity - as I recalled the things we had done together since then.

Recalled the sensations that always coursed through me whenever our lips met - and the even stronger ones that resulted from feeling her pressing herself against me as we kissed.

The sight of her beauty, whether in one or other of her sets of flimsy finery, or when she lay nakedly beside me.

The feel of her body welcoming mine inside her, and the utterly mind-blowing effect that her love-making always, without fail, had on me.

But the most powerful of all my memories were those of that morning when I'd awoken before she did; the morning when I was able to lie there, to fully appreciate the wonder of not only her body, but of the person I had by then come to know - and, as I realised in that instant, the absolutely overwhelming love I had so quickly developed for her...




Chapter 16

During the next two or three weeks - primarily thanks to the regular meals I shared with them - I got to know Bethany's boys rather well; John, the elder by just barely twenty minutes, was the more dominant, Jason having a sweeter and, like his mother, the more artistic personality. But of course, like virtually all boys of their age, both were keen sports fans, especially of cricket - which was fortunate, as it was about the only sport I actually knew anything about. So, with that as a starting point, we made a start to what in time became an unexpectedly pretty happy relationship, and the merging of Bethany's life and mine, began on a much less rocky road than many similarly placed couples might have found themselves facing.

Other than the normal day-to-day events that occur for all of us - and the absolutely fantastic sex-life that we always managed to find the time for - the next major occurrence in our life, was of course the one we had chosen as being the occasion of our public 'outing' of ourselves as a fully-fledged couple - the golf club's major night of the year, the Founders' Ball.

Bethany had taken herself off to the nearby major shopping centre to look for a new dress for herself - a trip I was strictly forbidden to make with her - 'I want you to see me when I've finished dressing-up for you.' - she said.

So, given that she was clearly taking the evening quite that seriously, I went out and bought myself a new tie and shirt.

I had decided to wear what I thought of as my 'banker's suit'; a single-breasted one, made from very fine worsted, in dark, almost black, French navy - so to go with it the shirt I chose was a very pale, powder-blue, with darker, china-blue stripes, each one of which was picked out by a fine, yellow key-lines. The silk tie was a brighter, glossy shade of the china-blue, with tiny yellow, purely decorative motifs.




Choral Evenings Pt. 02



Once I had made my purchases I wandered around the shops, really doing no more than killing a little time, but something in the window of a nearby jeweller caught my eye, so I went in to take a closer look at it. It was necklace, with matching ear-rings, made from small pieces of what I was assured was genuine red coral. It really was a lovely thing, and I knew it would look even more gorgeous if given the chance to enhance Bethany's already beautiful, white neck. So, although it was far more expensive than I could really afford, of course I bought it.

I had arranged to call for Bethany at around eight o'clock, giving us time for a quick, morale boosting drink before heading round to face her friends and neighbours at the golf club - and unlike most women I had previously known, when I rang her door-bell she was clearly already quite ready - and when she opened the door I had to take a second look to convince myself it was really her. She looked absolutely amazing!

Her dress was a bright scarlet silk one - and although its top left her arms and shoulders almost bare, the design of the supportive shoulder-straps was such that they became a short, stiffened collar that provided a back-drop for the pale creamy skin of her slender neck. The plunging neckline of the form-fitting bodice was far more pronounced than that on any other things I'd seen her wear, and although it might well have been purely my imagination, her breasts and cleavage also seemed both fuller and more prominent. From the waist down, although showing off the finely rounded shape of her hips, the dress had just a little more room in it, falling to just above knee-high, so allowing a fair length of sheer black nylon clad leg to show below it. Then a pair of finely strapped sling-backs, in gold, completed the outfit.

Having given myself time to take in all that, I looked back up again - at what she'd done with her face and hair. Although she did normally wear make-up, she always used it sparingly - but that night she had been rather more audacious; adding subdued shading around her eyes, making them appear to shine all the more brightly, and her lipstick was a much more daringly bright one, virtually matching the colour of her dress. And although her hair was in its usual coif, the normally discreet claw-grip that held it in place, had been replaced by a much larger, more brightly coloured one, that stood, like a cockscomb, proudly high behind her head.

'Oh dear god - you look - you look, well 'absolutely stunning!' doesn't say the half of it darling!' I stumbled - my eyes roaming slowly up and down the vision she made, yet again.

My tongue-tied compliment clearly hit the spot with her, she smiled, took my hand, said - 'And you look extremely handsome sweetheart!' - and took me inside.

The two boys were waiting in the lounge-room, grinning. 'Doesn't she look amazing!' John said.

'He means more amazing than usual.' Jason added diplomatically.

I agreed with them - and then some - and as I took the drink they had waiting for me, the boys headed off, leaving me to once again examine the transformation Bethany had carried out on herself.

But then I remembered the packet in my pocket. 'I doubt this will really go with what you're wearing darling, but I'm sure it will look nice with something else.' I said as I handed the gift-wrapped box to her.

'Oh you shouldn't have!' she exclaimed as she took it, but then almost feverishly unwrapped it - pausing silently for a moment as she stared down at what was inside the box, then flinging her arms around my neck and, totally ignoring any mess we might make of her lipstick, kissed me, passionately.

When she finally released me, she grinned - 'You must be a mind reader my darling. Either that or you were following me when I went shopping. It goes with this dress absolutely perfectly - I've been waiting 'til the last minute to decide which of two necklaces I should wear - now there's no decision, it's got to be this one! Just help me on with it please love.' She added as she handed the box back to me and then turned herself around.

Once fastened, and once she'd fitted the accompanying ear-rings, she stood there for me - and I admit she was of course perfectly correct, the necklace and ear-rings did go absolutely brilliantly with the scarlet dress.

'And now I can most definitely wear the mantilla with it.' she said, going to a corner and picking up a long, lacy, black length of material - which she slipped up over her hair, then allowed the ends to fall, draping her shoulders and trailing down beside herself. 'Ole!' she exclaimed, as she did a fast little twirl around.

'My Spanish beauty!' I said, catching and kissing her when she came to a halt.

'Now let's go and face the music!' she said once she had drained her glass. 'We'll take care of these later.' she added, putting the two of them down on a table. 'Let's be off now!'

As I helped her into the car I of course took the opportunity of getting a good look at the length of nylon sheathed legs she offered me. 'Thigh- highs.' she said with a mischievous grin, sliding her skirt just a little higher to expose the width of lacy design at the top of them. 'Food for thought for you?' she asked impishly when she saw the way I was staring down at them.

'What do you think.' was all I could think of saying as I reluctantly closed the door and went around to the other side of the car.

'Now please behave yourself - at least for an hour two.' she said as I slid in beside her. 'I found myself getting a little 'hot and bothered' while I was getting ready for you - and seeing how gorgeous you look in that suit, well a girl can't always hide how she feels, and I don't want to disgrace myself by leaving damp patches on any of the club's furniture.'

So, instead of reaching across to rest my hand where I had wanted to, I gripped the steering wheel firmly, and headed off to the golf club.

*****

The next couple of hours were both fun, and very interesting. I suspect that many people had already, somehow, guessed that Bethany and I were in fact seeing rather more of each other than as mere choristers - women do seem to have some sort of sixth sense about such things. So many were pleased to not only have their suspicions confirmed, but apparently also pleased to see that Bethany had found someone who so obviously cared so deeply about her. One friend of hers even confided that many of them had been saddened that such a vivaciously attractive woman had been alone for such a protracted period. 'Just be good to her.' she added with a note of warning in her voice. 'She's far too nice a woman to be merely played around with.'

'I'm deeply in love with her.' I responded. 'The very last thing I would ever do is hurt her, in any way.'

I imagine my words were spread around like wild-fire amongst some sort of inner circle, and from then on, the way most people treated us was with even more overt enthusiasm.

There were a few sour looking faces scattered here and there - perhaps some women might have had well kept thoughts as to their own chances of hooking what was an apparently eligible male. But then those ideas may of course have been no more than an invention of my personal ego!

But most of the time I still really only had eyes for Bethany; it was not just her overall appearance - and her high spirited enjoyment of our first public appearance together - but below that, bubbling away inside me, was the purely male responses to the sight of her body moving beneath that seductively form-fitting silk dress.

And when it came time for the dancing - once I had her in my arms; once my nostrils detected the heady scent of her lemon-grass noted perfume; once I felt her body moving beneath the thin silk of her dress; then felt her pressing herself against me; and more especially when I could look down, either into her brightly sparkling brown eyes, or, even more disturbingly, down into the cleavage between her especially prominent breasts - well, I quickly found myself being enveloped in a slowly seething mist of a mix of my new found love for her, and that of the far more basic one, sheer lustfulness.

Although the neck-line of her dress was pretty low, it was only when looking down from immediately above her - as I could when we were dancing - that I could see what was otherwise virtually hidden. Beneath it, covering just the mid-line of her breasts - and so providing just a hint of modesty for her nipples - was a thin band of lacy blackness, through which, if I looked carefully, I could actually make out the dark shading of the circle of her aureoles.

The overall effect of her; her scent, her movement, and what I could see when I looked downward, was of course a powerful one - and as I had for some reason chosen that evening to wear a pair of boxer shorts, there was more than enough room for my stiffening cock to make itself all too apparent!

'Is that what I think it is?' she whispered as her thigh brushed against the swiftly hardening length of me.

'What do you think?'

'I think it might be - is it the cheating I've done with my breasts that's causing it?'

'Cheating? What do you mean?'

'Well I thought what you like to refer to as my 'boutique beauties' needed a little extra support in this dress, so I'm wearing what's called a half-bra - really no more than a couple of supporting half cups, with a bit of lacy trim around the tops of them. It gives me a little bit more lift than usual - so is that what's been getting to you?' she added cheekily, pressing her leg just a fraction more firmly against me.

'That - and the rest of you.' I answered throatily.

'Oh well I suppose I should also tell you that what there is of the bra is made from the same fabric as the dress - so you see, I'm quite colour co-ordinated; the dress and bra match - and of course now your beautiful necklace and ear-rings do too.' She added, lifting one hand to briefly finger the coral. 'And then there's the mantilla, my lacy stocking-tops and the edging at the top of my bra. So I guess you could say I am quite the scarlet woman tonight - well at least a scarlet and black one!'

'And does that go for the panties too?' I asked.

'Well I think I might just leave you guessing about those.' she replied, giving me yet another of her mischievously sparkling-eyed grins - and increasing my level of discomfort by more than just a couple of notches when she much more deliberately moved her thigh back and forth against me..

Then when that set of dances ended and we, along with everyone else, made our way back to our table, she said. 'Would you do something for me please, Mark?'

Of course, what would you like my darling?'

Just go up to the bar for something, then when you walk back towards me, would you do it nice and slowly please?'

'What did you want?'

'Oh anything you think of - I just want to watch you walking towards me, it's the suit I think, but you do look absolutely gorgeous tonight. And I want to enjoy knowing it's me you're walking towards. Does that sound silly?' she asked with obvious embarrassment.

'Not at all silly lover - it's flattering! Of course I'll do what you fancy - anytime, anywhere!'

So I did just that, and without making myself look totally stupid, walked as slowly as I could, both there, and then back again - carrying a small bowl of peanuts that had been the only thing immediately handy.

I watched Bethany, watching me - intently. Saw the way she stared unblinkingly, saw the tip of her tongue moistening her lips, saw her hand slip down off the table to press down where I guessed she might feel she needed it.

'Mmm, you do look gorgeous - and very sexy too!' she whispered as I sat down again. 'And I bet I'm not the only woman here who noticed that our friend was making his presence rather noticeable.' she added.

I had of course forgotten that my erection would probably be making a rather distinctive bulge in my trousers - and perhaps it was a good thing that I had, or I might not have been able to do what she'd asked of me - but I still found it embarrassing to hear that it had done so.

'Still if it's any consolation -' she said when she saw the uneasy look on my face - 'my own reaction has been just as discomforting, you wouldn't believe just how wet I've got!'

Whatever either of us might have said in response to that piece of information was cut short by the MC announcing that the next group of dances would be the last before supper was served - and perhaps hearing that was what prompted Bethany to do what she did. Grabbing her clutch purse in one hand, she gripped mine in the other and whispered hoarsely - 'Take me home Mark, take me home now please!'

So, without even making our good-byes to anyone, we rapidly scurried for the exit and then, as we made our way through the car-park, I said. 'But what about the boys Bethany?'

'Not my place, yours silly! The boys won't be expecting me home for hours yet - I told them they could watch one of their DVDs and then get themselves off to bed - so they'll be OK.'

So with that, and her hand reaching across to rest on the still hardened length of my cock, we drove to my place, and whilst most of the time neither of us spoke, as we pulled up outside she said. 'I hope you don't think I've suddenly gone a bit weird or something - but when we get indoors, will you agree to do something for me - no matter how odd you might think it?'

'Of course sweetheart - as I've said many times, anything you want of me, you only have to ask.' I replied unhesitatingly, but of course wondered exactly what it was she might have in mind to ask me to do for her.




Chapter 17

Luckily for me it wasn't a very long drive home - if it had been, with the thought that Bethany had got so turned on by just watching me walk the length of the golf club's hall, coupled with the way her hand moved slowly but firmly up and down the by then pulsing length of my cock, I might very well have been unable to prevent myself - like some over-enthusiastically hot-blooded teen-ager - from coming right there and then.

But if I'd thought those were to be the most powerful of the things she could do to stir me up - I couldn't have been more wrong!

Once indoors she literally tugged me straight through to the bed-room, and only then said. 'Now I know this is asking a lot of you darling - but would you just this once humour me. I got so wound up from just seeing you dressed like that - so sophisticatedly smartly - not to mention seeing all the envious looks the other women were giving me - and then feeling you get aroused while we danced together. I know that by now, if you were to merely touch me, I'd go off like a rocket!' As she spoke she reached behind herself and I heard the muted sound of her unzipping the dress, then, just before she slid it up over herself, she added.

'So my darling, would you mind just standing there for me? Then let me look at you while I relieve at least a little of this terrible sense of urgency I have? I mean, look at you while I do it for myself? I promise I'll make it up to you in just a few minutes!' she added hastily. 

As the dress lifted, I saw that underneath it she had actually been wearing no panties - so once she'd kicked off her sling-backs, she stood there in just the glossily black thigh-high stockings and the seductively erotic half-cup bra.

Just seeing her unveil herself like that was itself nearly enough to finish me off, and in spite of the two layers of fabric restraining it, I felt my cock surging.

'Oh yes! Yes my darling, that's exactly what's been turning me on!' she exclaimed throatily. 'It was bad enough feeling you getting aroused while we were dancing, but then when I could actually see you getting turned-on like that - well it's not surprising that I now feel the way I do. So, would you mind if I did what I said I needed to?'

'Of course not darling. But do you want me to do anything - or just stand here for you?'

'Just stand there - this won't take me long, I assure you.' She said, then got up on the bed, leaving one leg dangling down over the side of it as she propped herself up against the head-board.

If I'd had the capacity to think about it, I guess I would have thought that this must surely be the most bizarre situation I had ever been in. There I was, just standing there, fully clothed - while a stunningly attractive woman, the woman I found myself head-over-heels in love with, lay, virtually naked, and about to masturbate herself.

But of course such thoughts were the very furthest things from my mind - all my brain could process was the vision that lay there in front of me. My darling Bethany; her eyes, staring quite unblinkingly at me - her already spiking nipples showing over the top of the black lacy trim of her bra - her black nylon encased legs spread wide open - and, most disturbingly of all, her pussy's pouting moistness displaying all the signs of the strength of her arousal.

Right then the thing I wanted to do most of all was to kneel down beside her and bury my face between those splaying thighs, smelling tasting and feeling that pussy pressing itself against my eagerly licking tongue and mouth.

But I'd agreed to do what she said she desperately needed me to, stand there while she did it for herself - so that's precisely what I did.

I watched as one hand slid down between her legs, her fingers at first slowly stroking in between those glistening pussy-lips - the other moving upwards, to equally leisurely brush back and forth against her nipples.

But although for a minute or two she maintained that slow, gradual caressing, soon after that I was not surprised to see that the fingers in and around her pussy moved a little higher, to the pronounced ridge being made by her swollen clitoris - then at first almost equally languidly, brushing to and fro against it, sometimes back and forth, sometimes in small circular motions.

That too lasted perhaps a minute or so, then the movements became much brisker, rubbing herself much more firmly - and as the other hand tweaked and rolled her nipples even more vigorously - her hips rose and I saw her pelvis thrusting her pussy hard down against the stimulations her hand and fingers were providing.

What had until then been no more than an intermittent series of sighs and the occasional more forceful gasp, suddenly turned to more deep-throated groans, and then a crying wail that rose in intensity as she took herself up to and over that final climactic peak.

Hearing that triggered all the restraint that I had until then been bottling up inside myself, and as her eyes clamped shut from the power of what she was experiencing, I moved forward, knelt beside her, and moving her hand to one side, buried my face in the sweetly acrid wetness that had seeped from her pussy and was by then smearing the insides of both her thighs.

Opening my mouth wide, and thrusting my stiffened tongue as deeply inside her as it would reach, I sucked her - sucked her hard - over and over again, eagerly swallowing the pussy-juice that flowed so copiously from her.

I was in no position - and had no inclination - to count the number of peaks I took her to, at one stage one seemed to follow almost instantaneously upon another, and nor do I know how long I knelt there, sucking her. But in fact it was Bethany who finally reached down and pushed my head away from herself. 'Enough my darling! That's far more than enough! And much, much more than I had ever anticipated, you really are a marvellous lover - in every possible way!' she added as I sat back on my haunches.

'Now how about I take care of you? By now you must be feeling you've been wound up tighter than a piano wire.'

As she spoke she reached forward and began to unknot my tie. 'I'll leave you to take your shoes and socks off - but leave all the rest to me please. I'll enjoy unclothing you at my pace.' she added with that now all too familiar mischievously sparkling-eyed grin.




Choral Evenings Pt. 02



And once I'd done as she suggested, she did what she had said she would; peeling off my things in ultra-slow motion, allowing her fingers, then her kisses to trail down my chest and abdomen as she unfastened my shirt - slowly, very slowly, doing it just one button at a time. Then, once she'd peeled my jacket and shirt off, she had me stand - staring at the prominent bulge in my trousers for a minute or so - then, after stroking her fingers up down its length a few times, began undoing the belt and zip. And as they fell to my ankles and she saw the still widening stain of my oozing pre-cum on my boxers, she gave a low gasp.

'Oh you poor thing - I have been making you far too wound up, haven't I! Never mind, we'll soon take very good care of that for you.' She added, before tugging the shorts down and helping me to shed the tangle from around my ankles, then hitching herself back up on to the bed.

She was about to lie back, but suddenly said to me. 'After all the orgasms you just gave me I will be awfully wet darling, so I might not be tight enough for you this way.'

'Let me try something with you darling.' I replied - suddenly realising there was one quite simple thing we had not yet done together. 'Just pass me down a pillow, then lift your bottom for me.'

Having slipped it underneath her, I moved up, slid my cock straight into her admittedly wetly swollen pussy, then, lifting my left up over her right one, I said. 'Now straighten that leg and then as I lift my right one up, pull your left one across beside it.'

'Oh yes, that feels terrific!' she gasped as I began cautiously pushing up and down between her tightly compressed legs. 'And having the pillow there means my clit is being rubbed each time you move - oh it's utterly fantastic darling! Just keep going like that, please!' She panted as I gained the confidence that I was not going to slip back out of her with every back-stroke, and started powering in and out much harder and faster.

'Terrific!' was not a word I would have used to describe what I was actually feeling! After all the stimulation and increasing anticipation I'd been through, my cock was not only rock-hard, but almost sizzling from the heat that had built up inside me - heat that even Bethany's soaking pussy could not immediately quench, only unloading the seething, churning volume of semen that had built up would accomplish that.

So that time I actually, for once, thought very little about Bethany's feelings, the overpowering necessity to reduce that need, was really all that was driving me.

I could hear the squelching sound of my cock literally pistoning in and out of her wetly welcoming pussy, hear Bethany's groaning gasping sounds of her own instantly re-kindled passion, but neither those, nor even the lightning bolts of excitement that shot up my spine as the tightness of that position produced quite massive amounts of friction, really got through to me.

At that moment all my mind and body could cope with was the rapidly approaching culmination that would relieve me of the pressures that was compelling me to quite literally fuck myself into oblivion.

But, in spite of that almost overwhelmingly powerful driver, at some point I was vaguely aware that Bethany was in fact helping me to reach that desperately urgently needed place. Somehow managing to arch herself, to lift her pelvis higher, so allowing me to thrust my fiercely demanding cock even deeper into the slickly velvety tightness of her ever-welcoming pussy. And then, even rhythmically pressing her legs together that much more tightly, and so giving my cock intermittent but even stronger squeezes.

And of course by then that was much, much more than I really needed - and I erupted, exploded - gushing successively jolting gouts of hot, thick and sticky semen into the very furthest reaches of her pussy.

But even when I had thought that I had unloaded everything I had, Bethany seemed determined to ensure I was completely and totally drained; continuing to jerk her hips so that the clutching tightness of her literally milked every last reluctant drop of jism from me. Only when she too was verging on collapse, allowing me to crumple down on top of her, feeling both her arms and legs reaching up around and pulling me even more tightly down against herself.

'That was fantastic darling - and I hope it made up for all that I put you through before it.' she whispered lovingly, then her lips and kisses found my still panting mouth, and those brought flooding back all the love I felt for her - love which had briefly been subsumed by the over-riding strength of those much baser needs and passions.




Chapter 18

After expending such a massive amount of energy neither of us had too much breath to say anything for a while, and what breath we did have was used to enable us to exchange more of those deeply loving kisses. But once we had recovered Bethany whispered - 'I hope you didn't think I was being too weird back then, you know, asking you stand there while I did for myself?'

'Far from it darling, I thought it was tremendously exciting!' I admitted.

'Really? Oh, thanks goodness! I thought I might have finally gone a bit too far for you.' she added hesitantly.

'I doubt you'd ever be able to do that, in fact although its not something I've ever seen a woman doing before, I could very well ask that be yet another thing we put on our 'To do' list.'

She giggled. 'Well if you go around looking so damn sexy, exactly what do you expect a girl to do?'

'I didn't realise that just wearing a suit could turn you on, I'll have to remember that when other things I do no longer seem to be working.'

'I can't imagine that ever happening between us my love.' She answered, before giving me an even stronger kiss, then breaking away from my enfolding arms. 'But I really must have a quick shower, then we might get ourselves something quick to eat, then of course I'll have to head back to my place. I'm sorry but the boys do expect me to be there for them in the morning.'

'Of course they do. You pop into the shower and I'll go and fix us something snacky. But in return I do demand one thing.'

'What's that sweetheart?'

Before you put your dress back on, just let me see you in those panties - the ones I never did get a look at.'

She smiled, said she would be more than happy to do that for me, then scurried away towards the bath-room.

I did get a look at her in the panties, along with the matching half-cup bra and thigh highs - and they made her look even more absolutely gorgeously sexy than usual; the panties being made from nothing more than two minute, downwardly pointing triangles of the crimson silk, with a not much wider, v-shaped piece of lace at the front.

So when she stood there, brazenly posing herself in the door-way, it made me wonder if perhaps she hadn't actually drained me as completely as we'd both thought she had - the mere sight of her causing more than a mere twitch of interest from down between my legs.

But the moment passed and she returned fully dressed, then we ate a little and having agreed it was still such a lovely night outside, I said I would walk back to her home with her.

It really was a night for lovers; the air still quite overly warm, with only the occasional softly sighing breeze to move it around a little, the first quarter moon shining brilliantly from a totally cloudless night sky and a chorus of crickets providing us with a musical back-drop.

We walked hand-in-hand, taking our time, completely unhurried - each savouring both the atmosphere and the opportunity to have just a few more very precious minutes of togetherness.

At the corner of Bethany's street there was a small, tree ringed park, and although it was barely large enough for the reed-fringed duck pond and the small band-stand where the elderly liked to gather to exchange the latest bits of gossip, when we came to its entrance I said. 'Let's just stop here for a little while my darling - it's such a lovely night, and it would be a pity to cut our time together shorter than it really need be.'

We strolled between the blackness of the scattering of flower beds and decorative bushes that dotted the grassed area, then mounted the three steps up into the band-stand, standing there, just looking around us - at the moonlit and partially star-studded sky above us, and the loomingly dark shadows it silvery light turned the trees and other vegetation into.

'It's been - no it still is - an absolutely magical night my darling.' she whispered, slipping her arm around my waist.

'It certainly is - and I'm sharing it with the most magical of women!' I replied, using both hands to turn her face towards me and kissing her - just lightly, then adding a few even more fluttering kisses to her eyes, the tip of her nose, her cheeks, her ears, then finally burying my face in the curve of her neck and kissing her much more strongly there.

'I love you so much it actually hurts.' I muttered as the scent of her perfume not only filled my nostrils but also sent my senses reeling.

'And I love you that much too my darling.' she replied as her snaking arms held me even more tightly.

Perhaps there was indeed some magic in the air, maybe provided by the moonlight that softly bathed us, or possibly it was just the love between us that generated it - but it was not long before what had been no more than a tender exchange of innumerable but just sweet little kisses, turned to something rather stronger.

Certainly my hands had slid down from her face, to stroke her back, then, in time, progressing to the taut curving roundness of her bottom - and hers had done likewise, gripping my arse and pulling me far more tightly against herself.

The silk of her dress was thin, and allowed me to feel each and every curve of her, and my fingers tingled as they slipped down over the backs of her thighs - my brain imagining the sexy combination of those panties and her thigh-high stockings - and my cock beginning to awaken from its recuperative slumber.

Even as our lips and tongues melded and twirled against each other, one hand found the hem of her dress - immediately slipped up underneath it, and just the feel of the silky warmth of her leg sent even stronger messages to my suddenly re-energising cock.

My other hand went down there too, its fingers joining those of its companion in tracing meandering caresses up, down and around the backs of Bethany's legs and thighs.

Of course once there, my hands could not be satisfied by even the delights that her legs provided - even the stronger thrills that came from criss-crossing the distance bounded by the lacy tops of her stockings and the warmth of her flesh above them, was merely a foretaste of the much stronger ones that lay above. But, as always, I was strong-willed enough to be patient, allowing myself to enjoy the feel of just that limited part of her, that and the steadily building sense of excited anticipation that accompanied both those feelings and those other thoughts.

So we stood there; two figures bathed in the moonlight, but the shadows we cast behind us had already merged, making just the one.

Eventually my hands had made their way high enough for just the tips of my fingers to feel the lower edge of those devilishly sexy panties, and once there, I really couldn't constrain their upward progress - and before too long I had both hands pushed up beneath them, cupping her bottom cheeks, then stroking and every now and then, squeezing their deliciously smooth tightness.

By then I could feel Bethany pushing, almost grinding herself, forward against me - so after one particularly long and passionate kiss, I broke free, dropped to my knees, and tugged the panties down off her. Then, having turned her around so she was facing out from the band-stand, I knelt behind her, and using my hands and my kisses, began slowly licking, kissing and caressing my way back up along the full length of her legs and thighs.

She gave small, sighing gasps as my fingers wandered back and forth, up and down - each transition from stocking to flesh sending even more powerful tingles back up to my brain - and then when she needed just that little more from me, she eased her legs much wider apart, so I was able to also caress my way right up the insides of her thighs. And even if I hadn't already started to become aroused, the feel of the warm, soft, silkiness of that part of her certainly would have been more then enough to trigger it.

So when it became obvious, from the aroma coming from just a little higher that she was quickly becoming as aroused as I was I slid one hand around in front of her - using those fingers to stroke and tease both her mound and the far more vulnerable little ridge beneath it - and whilst using the other to spread her bottom cheeks open, began licking both the creamily taut curves, then down into the much darker valley that lay between them.

Not surprisingly, her responses suddenly became much, much stronger; and both her panting and far deeper groans, and the way she pushed herself back at me were an undoubted indication of her own equally quickly mounting neediness.

Of course the combination of the feel of her, and of her reactions, as well as the very much stronger scent that accompanied them, had been more than enough to fully re-engorge my cock and I could feel the pressure of it jamming itself against the constraints that were effectively holding it captive. So when Bethany finally said - 'Enough my darling, I need you, need you far more than I do any more caressing!' - I quickly unzipped and pushed my trousers down.

For a few moments I was once again sorely tempted to take that opportunity to at least attempt the loss of my 'anal virginity' - as Bethany had gigglingly referred to it - but decided that even in the dead of night, a band-stand in the middle of a public park was neither the time nor the place for either experimentation nor my initiation.

So I simply slid my cock into the trickling wetness that had smeared the insides of her thighs, then as she bent herself just that much lower, and her hand reached back to guide it, I pushed it forward between her waiting pussy-lips.

Now although by then my body was more than ready for me to simply fuck her - to build and then as quickly as possible, to release all the build-up of sexual tension that my kissing and caressing had already produced - both my heart and brain did not want that. So at first I held myself steady, feeling the soft grip of her pussy-lips as they curled down into the ridge behind my cock-head - then, slowly at first, I began pushing back and forth, but controlling myself so that I used only the very tiniest of movements.

I heard Bethany's sharply hissing intake of air as those triggered a series of small but intense shock-like thrills for her - and once she'd understood what I was intent on doing, felt her fighting back her natural impulse to simply jam herself back on to me.

I continued using those very small movements, just gradually increasing the speed of them - the resulting grazing back and forth of her pussy-lips over the rim of my by then hugely bloated cock-head, sending massively strong waves of ever increasing excitement right through me - until both of our bodies were literally incapable of coping with any more such carefully targeted stimulation.

Once again we were totally in tune with each other - even as I felt compelled to thrust deep into the heart of her, Bethany finally jerked herself sharply back on to me. So I then began literally powering back and forth, hearing her muffled cries of exhilaration rising as the pressure inside both of us rose at much the same speed.

That time I think it was the sheer force of my climax that finally triggered hers, but at that moment my mind was ablaze with only the breath-taking intensity of what was gripping me, so although aware of the increasing shrillness of her voice, I was really unable to tell which of us reached that apogee first.

*****

When we were finally done with each other - had exchanged many more, but somewhat less passionate kisses - and Bethany had decided it was pointless to even try to put her panties back on, we finally walked hand-in-hand around to her house, where after a longer, much more lingering kiss, I left her.

Once home, and being far too overwhelmed by the events of the evening to even consider heading for my lonely bed, I poured myself a large scotch, then sat, sipping it slowly as I allowed my thoughts to roam wherever they had a mind to.

At first of course I remembered how stunningly beautiful she'd looked when I first saw her in that crimson dress, and how appropriate - and sexy - was the rather 'Spanish' look she'd given herself to go with it.

Then I thought of how happy she'd been when we saw how easily her friends had accepted us as a couple.

Then of the excitement I'd felt as we danced together - remembered Bethany brushing her leg back and forth against the rising swell of my cock.

And of course those thoughts immediately brought back the memories of the time we'd spent on the band-stand. Thoughts of how beautiful she'd looked in the moonlight. Memories of the scent of her perfume, the softness of her lips, the silkiness of her skin. Memories of how strongly I'd reacted to the feel of her thighs, the scent of her sex, the feel of her pussy-lips sliding down over the rim of my cock-head.

But then my mind flashed forward - to when we'd been walking towards her house. I recalled hearing the 'click-click' of her heels against the footpath, the 'swish-swish' of her dress against her nylons - and remembered thinking that, although it may have been purely my imagination, I thought I even heard, underlying those sounds, the much fainter, 'squish-squish' of her semen-oozing pussy.

But even whilst recalling the most lust-filled moments of the evening, I was fully aware that behind - and perhaps fuelling - all such thoughts and actions, was the far more over-powering love I felt for Bethany. And I somehow even knew that in the unlikely event that the physical side of our relationship was for some reason no longer possible, nothing would change the deep emotional bond we had so quickly built between us.





Choral Evenings Pt. 03



Chapter 19

Maybe it was the scotch, maybe it was just the very long time I'd spent thinking about the possible life ahead of us for Bethany and I, or maybe it was my subconscious reluctance to end the dream of us that I had been wallowing in at the time, but for whatever reason - I woke unusually late that Sunday morning.

In fact it was only the incessant ringing of the telephone that finally stirred me.

'Ah, you are there! I thought you must have gone out already.' Bethany said when I eventually picked it up.

'No, you've discovered my secret vice - I was actually still asleep.' I admitted.

'Goodness - I've been up for ages!'

'Well I sat up for quite a while - thinking about us.' I explained.

'Nice thoughts - or doubtful ones?' she asked with a note of hesitancy in her voice.

'Oh nothing but the very nicest ones my darling. In fact I was busily planning some sort of future for us.' I blurted out.

There was silence for a few moments, and I began to wonder if I had stepped across some unspoken boundary - but I was quickly reassured by both her response and the almost girlishly excited tone in her voice. 'Well you can start talking about those things whenever you like! But before that, what plans did you have for today?'

'Today? Nothing in particular, a few odd jobs around the place, that's all - why?'

'We had a phone call from the father of a couple of the boy's school-friends, he was planning to take them out on his boat today, and rang to see of John and Jason would like to join them. And of course that was an offer they simply jumped at - I've just seen them off. So as you won't have had breakfast yet, why not pop round here and let me cook one for you. Then we can decide what we want to do with the rest of our day - that is if you don't mind spending it with me!' she added cheekily.

'Give me half an hour to shave and shower, and I'll be there. If nothing else, the offer of a cooked breakfast is far too good to turn down!' I answered in a similar tone.

She giggled. 'I thought that might be your answer. Now as I might well still be upstairs tidying up, I'll leave the back-door unlocked, so just come around through the garden and you can come in the back way. OK?'

'I'll be there soonest my darling, just start getting things warmed up for me!' I added before we hung up.

As the forecast was for the day to be another hot one, I slipped into just shorts, a polo shirt and loafers, and in something less than half an hour was making my way back around to Bethany's house.

The rear entry door was, as she'd said it would be, unlocked, and having gone through the deserted kitchen and into the hall-way that ran the length of the house, and remembered that she'd said she could well be upstairs, I stood at the foot of them and called upwards. 'Bethany! Bethany, it's me, Mark - are you up there?'

Her answering call had a strangely echoing tone to it, but she said she was, and told me to go up to her. 'When you get to the top you'll see that there's an open door. I'm in there.' she explained.

I climbed the main flight, then turned up the three or four stairs that led on to a hallway that mirrored the downstairs one - to the right all the doors were firmly shut, but to the left, and at the far end, there was one almost wide open.

I went straight in, and found myself in what was quite obviously Bethany's room - decorated in shades of primarily old-rose and dusty pink, with glossy white paintwork that highlighted the delicacy of those shades of colour. Then, adding a couple of more dramatic colour splashes, were a few objects of either rich burgundy or muted emerald green.

The bed, an over-sized one, had a throw-over that picked up those colours, contrasting with the crisp whiteness of what were obviously freshly-laundered sheets - and both those and the coverlet were turned invitingly down.

But there was no sign of Bethany.

'Wrong room darling!' I heard her call - the echoing effect that I noticed from downstairs, now very much clearer. 'I'm in the room next door.' she added - and sure enough when I looked out, there was a second, just partially opened doorway.

Again I went in - into one of the largest bath-rooms I'd ever seen - much of one side of which was totally dominated by a simply massive, late Victorian - complete with the apparently nearly always obligatory, claw-feet - bathtub.

It wasn't just much longer than any bath I had ever seen, but was really high-sided, so high in fact that although I could tell that Bethany was sitting bolt-upright in it, even I could see not more of her than just her head and the very tops of her shoulders.

I figured that it was quite big enough to accommodate most, if not all, of an entire brood of a Victorian family's children at the one time - and in spite of their sometimes much-vaunted prudery about matters sexual, we all know just how many of them there tended be in those days!

Bethany grinned when she saw my astonished confusion. 'I bet you used to play with ships when you had a bath as a small boy - well, as you see, this is a bath for grown-ups to play in! So come on - the water's still nice and hot - join me, come on in!'

The truly dumb side of my brain must have been responsible for my initial response to her. 'I've only just had a shower Bethany, just before I came around.'

She chuckled. 'I had one too, as I said, this bath is playing in, not for washing in. Come on, don't disappoint me I've been looking forward to this for an hour or more.'

Of course the moment I heard myself saying what I had, I realised just how stupid I had been, and had already started getting my things off before Bethany had time to finish her further invitation.

As I stepped nakedly forward, Bethany slid herself a little further down the bath. 'Hop in behind me please darling, you could sponge my back for me - first!'

The water was all but crystal clear, the surface faintly glistening from something she'd added to it, and as the heat of the water vaporised that, the perfume was reminiscent of what I had smelt on her the previous evening; carrying just a hint of an underlying scent of lemon-grass.

Although I knew her big brown eyes were staring up at me, as any man would at such times, mine were staring downward, staring down at her body. At her breasts - which seemed to be floating on the very surface of the water, being supported by it - and at her nipples - which were apparently already showing signs of their early engorgement. Then at the dark, triangular shadow below them - momentarily wishing I had been invited to step in from the other end, from where I might have also seen at least a hint of the fleshy cleft beneath it.

Pausing only long enough to take in the rest of her beautiful, and oh so very sexy body, I stepped over to join her in the water.

Bethany had obviously been careful not to put too much of it in the bath, and even when I slid down behind her - stretching my legs down the outsides of hers - even though the two of us of course pushed it that much higher, there was still at least one third of the side of the bath clear of it.

When I dunked the sponge in the water so I could do what she'd asked me to, sponge her back, I realised that what Bethany had added to the water must have been some sort of oil based essence, the water itself had a decidedly slippery feel to it. So, having sponged her for a little while, I put the sponge aside, and began to use just my hands and fingers.

With both her skin and mine sheened with traces of the bath-oil, my caresses glided over her almost frictionlessly, just barely skimming her - her always smoothly soft skin feeling even more like the most ultra-fine silk.

Bethany gave a soft sigh when I slid my arms around her, and my fingers tingled as they slipped over the gentle swell of her stomach and moved up to cup her breasts. 

Just the feel of the swollen firmness of them stirred me, stirred and stimulated me, and the feelings I had felt just from looking down at her, grew even stronger. Feelings that soon became sharply focussed, in the pit of my stomach, my groin, my cock - and I felt the pressure of it twitching, then stiffening, and then far more quickly than usual, rising jerkily.

I stroked and caressed her; sometimes merely following the curving outline of her breasts, every now and then slipping either the palm of one hand, or just the soft pad of one finger-tip, back and forth across one or other of her more stiffly jutting nipples.

Using both hands on her - their actions sometimes in unison - at others harmonising, quite literally playing her, by using each one in some slightly different way. Only every now and then either rolling or tweaking each one of those delightfully sensitive little buds.

All the time my hands had been caressing her breasts, I had been using my lips and tongue to kiss and teasingly lick her neck; back and forth along the nape, and around and up and down each side, then every now and then bending so I could suck deep in the curve of where it met her shoulders.

Bethany sat there, accepting my homage to her - pressing her bottom even more firmly back against my by then quivering erection - allowing me all the time I wanted to enjoy the sensations that fondling her breasts obviously gave to both of us. Only some very long time later turning her head, so I could also kiss her.

'You have absolutely magical hands darling.' Bethany murmured softly when we finally broke for air. 'And that other part of you feels equally magical.' she added, before gasping as my hands found yet another way of stimulating her.

Then a minute or two later I felt her reaching up for one of them, urging it downwards, down between her legs. And then, with one set of fingers continuing to caress and gently squeeze her breasts and nipples, and the others thrumming sweetly against the stiffened tip of her clitoris, I soon took her to a water-thrashingly strong climax.

But it was what she did next that truly astounded me - astounded but fiercely excited me!

As the strength of what had gripped her slowly faded, she pushed herself up out of the water, and having told me to slip a little further forward, stepped in again, then turned around and, taking a firm grip of the rim of the bath, knelt.

'There won't be a better time for us to try this Mark. I'm totally relaxed, we're both slippery from the bath-oil, and you're obviously powerfully turned-on. So, as I suggested on the telephone, why not try coming in the other way, the back way!' she explained invitingly.

Just of thought of doing it that way sent juddering ripples of excitement through me, and the fact it had been Bethany herself who had suggested it - was making herself so available to me - made them even more powerful. But, in spite of the sharp ache in my already swollen balls and the throbbing beat that was making my cock jerk up and down, I paused for a moment, looking down at her. Although my body was trembling with the pent-up need I was still able to appreciate the erotic beauty of hers. The sensuous line of her shoulders and back, the narrow waist and sudden flaring of her hips. The flawless texture of her skin.

But at that moment of course the most captivating part of her were the twin cheeks of her arse, and the position she was in dramatically tightened those fleshy globes. 'You have the most stunningly beautiful bottom I have ever seen darling.' I said with a catch in my voice as I bent forward and pressed my face against it.

The feel of its firm silkiness against me was thrilling, but knowing what it was she probably needed from me right then, I spread her bottom cheeks apart and slowly licked my way up the deeply plunging valley between them, using the tip of my tongue to tease and probe into the tightly wrinkled muscles that guarded that other, much darker way into her.

I felt a shivering tremor run up through her body as I did that, so repeated it several more times, then stiffened my tongue and finally probed even more deeply into her.

I could tell from the increasing strength of the tremors and the way she began to squirm herself back towards me that she was getting even more excited by me doing that so I continued, pushing my tongue deeper, and then a little later replacing it with one finger.

'I think I'm more than ready now darling.' she said in a muffled voice a few moments later.

But even with the sheen of oil that coated both of us, at first I thought we were both going to be disappointed. Although she was obviously doing her best to relax herself enough to help me, I just couldn't get my cock-head inside her, she remained locked tight - but then I felt her body suddenly shudder, felt the muscles relax a little, and with a single, much stronger push, I was in.

Having got the head inside her, although getting deeper was still not easy, it did require less force, and then become progressively easier as each move spread whatever mucous lined that tunnel. But, as though the two things were somehow linked, although requiring less physical effort, each move generated progressively stronger thrills. The sheer tightness of that way into her provided most of those, but adding to them was what Bethany herself was also contributing.

Once confident that she was actually able to take me she began to move her hips, at first tentatively pushing herself a little back and forth in time with my action. But when she found that even though I was thrusting gradually deeper and deeper she was still comfortable, she began to also sway them slowly from side to side.

The combination of greater depth, plus her movements sent the intensity of the sensations I was experiencing sky-rocketing. My cock felt as though it was being squeezed down some far too narrow pipe, the lining of which was firing off every single nerve along its entire length. But each time Bethany moved the pipe flexed, as though trying to bend and twist my rigidly rock-hard cock, the resulting pleasure-pain triggering a completely different set of receptors in my brain.

But adding to the thrills coming directly from my cock were those I was getting from looking down at her. Watching the muscles in her back and shoulders flexing and seeing the glorious cheeks of her arse swaying beneath me was also exciting, knowing that those movements were all just to provide me with pleasure, doubly so.

Then it occurred to me that in fact she could get some too, and without slowing the pace of my steady thrusting I used one hand to grip her hips a little more tightly, then leaned forward and reached the other hand around and underneath her. And once I had found her still spikily jutting clitoris, while continuing to steadily thrust in and out of her arse, I began doing to it what I had just a short time earlier.

I could immediately tell from just the sounds she started making that my idea was immediately paying dividends. Until then she had said nothing, just giving occasional gasping grunts, but that quickly changed. 'Oh Mark! Mark darling, that's - that's wonderful!' she exclaimed. 'I never knew! But is it good for you too!'

'It certainly is darling. I couldn't possibly describe just how good it feels. You are absolutely phenomenal my darling!'

'And you are for me too!' she gasped in a suddenly much louder voice. 'And it's starting darling! I'm coming again! Oh! Oh, I'm coming!' she cried.

Knowing that she was gave additional impetus to what I was already feeling, and then as her body tightened from her own contractions I felt that familiar, rising, searing surge begin. 'Oh Bethany my love!' I heard myself cry, unable to prevent my thrusting getting both faster and more forceful as the pressure quickly rose higher.

'Yes Mark! Yes! Ooh yeeesss! Now darling, noowww!' she shrieked, twisting and bucking herself harder back against me as we both felt my body letting everything go.

Then we heaved and thrust together, our cries of mutual ecstasy blending as my cock exploded, then spat successive gouts of hot, sticky semen deep inside her convulsing body.

When I was done I didn't immediately pull back out of her and when she turned her head to look back at me, and even though we did it most awkwardly, we even managed to kiss 




Chapter 20

We both continued kneeling there - our bodies still locked tightly together, each of us panting, each gulping down every breath as the after-shock spasms continued surging through us - my still hard cock held tight in the fastness of her anal grip of it - my hands clutching almost claw-like at the slipperiness of her tremblingly shuddering body.

But in time - who knows how much of it, neither of us was in any condition to even think about, let alone to actually measure it - our bodies relaxed the force of what had held us together like that, and having lovingly washed each other's just slightly chafed parts, we stepped out of that massive bath-tub, dried ourselves and slipped into the bath-robes Bethany had thought to leave waiting for us. Then, in what was for us, a continuing and quite unusual silence, made our way down towards the kitchen.

It was only once she had started preparing the eggs and bacon that Bethany finally broke that stillness.

'So my darling, how was it? Was doing it that way exciting for you?'

I was thoughtful for several moments, and even when I did start to answer her question, it was still with extreme hesitation. 'To answer your question - it was, as I said, absolutely phenomenal! Much, much tighter of course - and quite unlike any sex I've ever had before! But -' I continued - 'it was also in some ways, well I know it's quite the wrong word, but it's the only one that comes to mind right now - it was somehow almost 'impersonal'. 'No, please let me finish!' I added when I saw she was about to interrupt me.

'I know I'm going a long way around the question but it does seem important - well at least to me it does.' I started out. 'And some of what I'm about to say may be just the whisky talking. At least it may have been the whisky I drank while I was thinking about me - about us - last night, I mean.' I explained, not wanting Bethany to think I'd been boozing before I left home that morning.

'Intertwining with all the other things I thought about, there were always the feelings I have for you. That may well be because I can honestly say that I have never, ever felt anything like the strength of these, for any other woman.' I said, looking up and letting her see from the steady and softly loving look in my eyes that my words were as genuine as the sentiments I was expressing.

'But the more I thought about these feelings - and I think it's the first time I've tried to analyse such things - I came to the realisation that they are actually operating at a series of quite distinctly different levels. And what I said about the sex we had upstairs just now, about how it seemed to be in some ways, 'impersonal', well when I thought about it last night I thought that that's how some of the most explosively powerful sex between us, usually feels. Let me try to explain it rather better my darling.' I said when I saw she was again about to interject. 

'When I have one of those gut-wrenching orgasms you often give me, it's as though I have somehow ceased to exist - except as being an almost unnecessary vehicle for my penis, my cock. Perhaps what happens is that the sensations generated are just so incredibly powerful that my brain needs every single neurone to register them - so there are simply not enough left to think about, or even to fully experience anything else.'

'Oh yes darling! I know exactly what you mean!' she exclaimed encouragingly. 'Sometimes I feel exactly like that too - in my own case it's as though my entire body has sort of melted down, that I have in fact become nothing but a climactically whirling orgasm!'




Choral Evenings Pt. 03



'Thank goodness you understand, I was worried that it might be just me that sometimes feels like that.' I said with relief. 'But as I said, those feelings are but one of a number of levels of emotion - let's call those the 'Purely Physical' ones. Then there are those that I'll call the 'Purely Emotional' - and I know I have never had feelings as powerful as those I have for you.' I admitted, reaching across to squeeze her hand a little.

'Those feelings wash over me at all sorts of unexpected times; sometimes at work, or when I'm alone in my own house, at those times I want to drop everything I might be doing and rush around here - not necessarily for something sexual - though that's obviously sometimes true.' I added with a quirky grin. 'But most times it's just so that I can be in the same space with you.'

'Again I do know precisely the different kinds of feelings you're talking about darling.' Bethany responded. 'Mine fit into exactly the same sort of pattern. But for me there's at least one other sort - and that was what drove me after we got home from the ball, when I asked you to ask you to stand there while I masturbated. And those are the feelings I get when I look at you in a particular sort of way. I mean wearing the suit gave you a look that I think most women get turned on by; it's a look of purely masculine power and authority. It's a very sexy look.'

'Well I guess that compares with what I was going to say next anyway.' I answered. 'And that was to say that there are times when it's just the way you look that is a massive turn-on; I mean the way you looked at the Ball, or those times when I've seen you in nothing but those flimsy underthings - at those times you are the epitome, the very essence of feminine sexuality.'

'But then -' I continued - 'there are those times when we hold each other, maybe just exchanging a kiss or two - when neither of us either is expecting or really wanting to move on to the next stage of arousal - at those times there's a feeling of just the sheer joy of being with the woman who has so quickly become the single most important person in my life. And -' I added with obviously heartfelt sincerity. '- in many ways those are the most powerful of all the various kinds of feelings - at least for me they are.' I added.

'Oh yes - those are the very best ones for me too!' Bethany responded, leaning across to slowly brush her fingers down the side of my face. 'And I know you're going to think I might be making this up just to suit the moment - but I'm not!' she added passionately. 'One of my long-held fantasies has involved just that sort of thing - in my case it's lying in bed, while there's music playing somewhere, with a man I'm madly in love with. And I mean, both of us simply lying there - maybe touching, but not actually doing anything sexual.'

I thought for a moment before replying. 'Well we do have a perfect opportunity to see if it works for you, in real life I mean. Though trying to act-out fantasies is said to be one sure way of destroying them.' I warned. 'But we have both the time and the opportunity to do exactly that my darling. From what I saw, albeit briefly, there's a freshly made bed waiting upstairs, we have plenty of music to choose from, all we have to do is turn the volume up a bit and I'm sure we'd be able to hear from there.'

Bethany grinned, excitedly. 'We can do better than that darling, I'll just borrow the boys' portable CD player, we can take it into the bed-room with us. And even if I'm risking the destruction of my long-term fantasy, that's the best way I can think of for us to spend an hour or two. Don't you think so?'

Of course I did, and once I had eaten the magnificent breakfast she had cooked for me, and just for once leaving the kitchen clean-up until sometime later, that's exactly what we did.

Each of us quickly chose a couple of CDs from her wide-ranging collection and then, having taken the boys' player through to her bed-room, and then, even more quickly, we undressed. Bethany was just about to hop into bed when I stopped her. 'I'd really like you to let your hair down, please.' I said - and having given me an understanding smile, she did just that, and I watched with intensely loving amazement as that cascade of dark brown hair tumbled down over her shoulders.

So then I happily joined her and the pair of us slid down between the fresh coolness of the bed-sheets.

For a very long, long time, we did no more than lie there, side-by-side, merely inter-locking our fingers as we held each other's hand - then allowing the music of Bethany's first choice to wash over, in fact wash right through us - the opening strains of Mozart's clarinet concerto.

Although I was of course intensely conscious of having her lying beside me - very aware of those small parts of me that were in fact lightly pressing against her, aware of the warm softness of those parts, aware of the still faintly lingering perfume of the bath-oil - I was in fact drifting off somewhere else with her. And although our fingers sometimes tightened as a particularly magical or poignant section stirred us even more deeply, I knew that Bethany too was floating free of her normal self - allowing the beauty and wonder of the music to transport both of us to a new and quite different level of togetherness.

Time itself ceased to exist for us; the world we were inhabiting contained just the music and we two, plus of course, the newly found love that bound us, and the mutual joy of the music that had carried us there.

In that world there were no external pressures or demands on us, we were free to merely swathe ourselves in the sublimity of the rapture of being in such a place - and of being there, together.

It was as though each of us had happily melded, totally merged into the other - as though our hearts, minds, even our bodies, had fused in ways that even the most lovingly satisfying sexual union was incapable of providing.

It was an utterly blissful place - even the air we shared, seemed unlike the air that other's had to breathe.

However, I was of course aware of the various pieces that then played for us; Bruch's violin concerto wrenched me as much as it always did - then Dvorak's New World lifted me high again, and there were several of Bethany's choices that were familiar, but for which I could not give a name.

So we must have been lying there for than a couple of hours - all that time remaining virtually motionless, only the occasional movement of one or the other of us, as a muscle protested from being unused for so long.

But then, in the quiet space between one piece and another, I felt Bethany making a much more positive move. Then, as she lifted herself up beside me, I heard her whispering. 'Lay quite still my love, and please continue to keep your eyes closed. I am sure you have always conjured up an image of the most heart-breakingly beautiful woman to accompany this piece of music - so, if you prefer to, just imagine it is she who is taking care of you as you enjoy it my darling.'

Then, as what I have always thought is one of the most powerfully erotic pieces of music ever written - Rimsky Korsakov's 'Scheherazade' - began playing, I felt her push the sheet down off me, then she bent and kissed me, only lightly, her lips at first merely brushing mine.

Just as the opening strains of the single violin began sweetly playing, I felt Bethany's hair joining in with her continuing kisses, felt it trailing across my face - and then, as the orchestra joined the violin, felt her hands sliding slowly down over my chest.

Just as the music told the story of the young woman's ways of pleasing the sultan - each section recounting some mishap or small adventure - Bethany's kisses and caresses varied in both place and intensity. Sometimes meandering slowly and lightly, sometimes more quickly and waywardly, sometimes even pinching - but each in their own special way worked their strong magic on me. And of course the combination of her hands, her kisses, her hair - each of which was moving to the flow and rhythm of the music's accompaniment - both stirred, and re-energised me.

But although those caresses covered most of me, she waited until they had succeeded in bringing my cock up to full size, and only then allowed her fingers, her hair, and then her lips, to make actual contact with it.

At first, whilst gently holding it in one hand, she used the other to gather a handful of hair, then, doing it tantalisingly slowly - and again, totally in time with that section of the music - she began swirling it against and around the swollen cock-head.

Of course having teased and tormented me in that way, the contrast and sheer impact of the feel of the warm moistness of her lips when they eventually slipped down over it was ten times stronger than it always was - and I felt my hips automatically jerking upwards in response.

But somehow Bethany still managed to hold me there; hold me at a peak of arousal, yet not allow me to move up to the next level - where I would of course be unable to prevent myself from climaxing. Hold me there, yet - and while still following the progress of the music - continue to thrill me, sending an almost continuous stream of juddering quivers of excitement right through every single part of me.

By then I think I at least subconsciously knew exactly what she was thinking of doing, and when the music changed, and I felt Bethany lift herself bodily above me, I hoped I had been right. Hoped she was going to make love to me - to fuck me - but that she had been waiting so she could do so during the climactic section of the piece.

It was only when I felt the slick tightness of her pussy-lips slip down over my cock-head, then her pussy slowly engulfing me, that I knew I had been right, so held myself back from the natural urge to immediately thrust upwards to meet her downwardly pushing body.

Once we were fully locked together, she paused, waiting for the music to provide her the cue to begin moving herself up and down in time with it. And it was only when she both heard that, and then felt the unmistakable signs of the imminence of my climax, that she leaned forward, and as her pussy clenched even more tightly around my cock, her lips glued themselves to mine, her tongue thrusting almost as deep into my mouth as my cock was inside her.

Then - once the hectic section immediately before the end of the piece had passed - and as the orchestra and then the violin headed towards the close, that's precisely what she was able to do. And as we listened to the wistfully longing sounds of the violin straining towards its own final resolution, the velvet clutch of Bethany's skilful pussy slowly - almost tortuously slowly, but still providing me with the most indescribable ecstasy - determinedly urged my throbbingly straining cock on to its own.




Chapter 21

During the following weeks Bethany and I seemed to draw ever closer together, and as we were by then both hosting and in turn being invited to dinner parties and various other social gatherings, we were beginning to feel as though we had in fact been together for years, rather than just a relatively few short months.

One of the things that undoubtedly helped us to develop such closeness was the fact that her two sons also welcomed me into their already close-knit family unit, Jason actually inviting me along to watch their school's final cricket match of the season.

So when Bethany said she was arranging a day of work in the garden for the three of them, and asked if I'd mind also helping, I cheerfully accepted.

As many people in that region had also done, over the years that she had been living there, Bethany had transformed what she said had once been a typically British cottage garden into one much more dominated by native trees, shrubs and ground-covering vegetation. As she had explained to me; apart from providing more natural habitat for birds and other native wild-life, such gardens were also not only much less demanding of water, but were also far more low-maintenance in their general upkeep. And with both her work and two rapidly growing sons, she really hadn't needed an almost full-time gardening job on top of that.

But although for most of the year it was most definitely low-maintenance, as she had designed the plantings to provide interesting little walk-ways around and through it, to keep the whole design in place she did need to undertake some relatively heavy pruning at least once or twice a year. And that particular Sunday was scheduled to be one of those.

So having dragged out the paint and plaster splattered jeans and the long-sleeved work shirt that I had worn during my house's renovations, and after eating a good solid breakfast, I headed around to join her work-gang.

Bethany was equally sensibly garbed; wearing a long-sleeved denim shirt coupled with a pair of obviously equally well worn track-suit pants, and topped off with a large and undoubtedly battered straw hat. 'I don't think I'd win any glamour stakes today darling.' she said when she noticed me taking a good look at her outfit.

'You still look absolutely adorable - quite the little farm-girl.' I replied with a grin.

She had of course already got everything organised; a friend bringing around his trailer for us to pile the trimmings in - which he would then take off to the recycling centre some time the next day - gloves and saws and secateurs for each of us, and the promise of pies and sausage rolls from the local bakery waiting to just be warmed-up for our lunch.

So, having been given precise instructions as to what to cut - and what should be left alone - the four of us cheerfully set about our allotted tasks.

Although none of the individual jobs could have really been classified as being hard-work, all of the bending, stretching, crawling, climbing, chopping and sawing involved, plus the fact that the morning was quickly warming up meant that it wasn't that long before I felt the unmistakable sensation of perspiration running down myself. And when I caught sight of Bethany moving from one part of the garden to another, I saw that she too must have been perspiring quite heavily.

For some unaccountable reason I found that just the sight of the dark sweat stain down the back of her shirt, and the way the dampness made it cling to the shape of her, was immediately arousing. I found myself imagining her without it, without the equally body-hugging track-suit pants, imagined how her bra and panties would be sticking to her; the bra clearly outlining the shape of her 'boutique beauties', her panties doing much the same thing for her pussy. Even imagining I could actually already smell her; the musky earthiness of her hot and sweaty body. Then imagined I was already licking that salty nectar from each and every part of her.

Of course such imaginings - although brief - inevitably, but very speedily, produced what soon became a positively uncomfortable stiffness at the crotch of my quite inflexible jeans - then Bethany moved on, and the moment passed - but the thoughts I'd had certainly didn't, and even my physical discomfort took quite a while to do so.

But although most of the time each of us did work very hard, it was not done without laughter - the boys obviously testing me by trying out some of the more scatological jokes they'd heard at school, then breaking-up when they found I knew some even racier ones. Bethany came in for her share of the fun too, the boys getting me to agree to join them in camouflaging ourselves with some of the larger prunings, then creeping slowly towards her as she kneeled to remove the weedy growth that had invaded the edges of one of the neater sections of the garden. Even though by then I knew how focussed Bethany could be when working on some task or other, even I was surprised at just how close we were able to get, and when we all jumped out at her, the expression on her face was absolutely priceless.

So the morning passed most successfully and by the time we broke to eat, the trailer was becoming piled with the results of the combination of our efforts.

As the boys had to leave for some other activity after lunch, while Bethany prepared a salad to go with the other things, they headed up for their shower and to change into more presentable clothes. Then, with icy-cold beer and fruit juice to accompany it, and as we had all worked up a good appetite, we eagerly settled down to tuck into what she had so thoughtfully prepared for us.

Even though I had readily joined in with the cheerful banter that accompanied our meal, I found my thoughts constantly returning to those I'd had in the garden - thoughts of how very good it would be to be able to lick the salty residue from Bethany's usually milky-soft skin. Thoughts that kept my by then much neglected cock in an almost perpetual state of semi-engorgement.

Once they had gone we cleared away the remains of our lunch then, as I estimated there was less an hour's work left, we set about finishing. But of course by then the sun had grown even hotter and it wasn't very long before I realised that both Bethany and I had already worked up another sweat. That dark stain down the back of her shirt had reappeared and the thick denim was already clinging to the shape of her back.

The thoughts and imaginings that had continued to so arouse me of course immediately returned, though in an even stronger fashion - and as that time we were alone in what was a very well shielded garden, the idea that this time I might be able to do something about them was far too tempting for me to resist.

But somehow I waited until I had carried the very last load of trimmings to the trailer and then securely tied down everything we had piled into it - and on the way back was rewarded by catching Bethany in the act of stretching up to trim off some obviously still offending small branches. In that position the shirt not only clung that much more closely but so did even those nearly thread-bare track-suit pants - outlining the delightful roundness of her tightly trim arse.

As before, she was focussing so intently on pruning in precisely the right places that she obviously hadn't heard me approaching, so I was able to thoroughly startle her when I slid one arm around to cup one of her breasts and at the same time slip the other hand straight down beneath the waistband of her pants and do the same thing to one of her bottom-cheeks.

I buried my mouth in the curve of her neck and lightly bit her, then sucked on the flesh, at the same moment tightening my fingers around the even more disturbingly arousing parts of her that they were enfolding. 'I've been wanting to kiss and lick you for most of the day - there's something very sexy about your body already being so hot and sweaty, at one stage I even thought I could smell the earthiness of it clear across the garden.' I said when I stopped kissing and sucking her neck.

'Wouldn't you much rather wait until I've had a chance to have a quick shower my darling?' she asked.

'Most definitely not!' I immediately responded. 'It's the state of you that's been making me so extra horny.' I answered as I began to fumble with the buttons down the front of her shirt and also push down her track-suit pants.

'You mean right here?' she gasped.

'Right here, and right now!' I muttered throatily.

Perhaps it was hearing the note of determination in my voice - or perhaps Bethany also got caught up by the excitement of such a spontaneous display of my need for her - but after only a second or two's uncertainty she began helping me; unfastening her shirt and bra, while I tugged down both her pants and then her obviously already quite heavily dampened panties.

'What about you?' she gasped as I gently but firmly urged her downwards.




Choral Evenings Pt. 03



'We'll worry about me later.' I answered as I knelt and pushed her legs apart.

I kissed her, if only rather more briefly than usual, but then quickly moved down - to briefly suckle on each of her equally rapidly budding breasts - but right then it was what lay between her legs that was my main objective, and far, far more quickly than I normally would have, I wasted as little time as I could in actually reaching it.

From the moment she'd begun helping me to strip her I had been able to inhale the arousing smell of her body's hot sweatiness - and realised it was even more powerful than my earlier imaginings had thought it would be. So even before I was able to crouch between her thighs my cock was fully erect - straining against those infuriating and damnedably inflexible jeans - and when I did, and then caught the full strength of the scent of her it was more than enough to make my entire body quiver from the growing power of the sexual tension that was rapidly building inside me.

But right then my first need was to bury my face between her legs, to lick and suck that almost mesmerically compelling part of her - to add the taste of her pussy-juice to the heady smell that had already so fiercely inflamed me.

Although I had given her so little time to become responsive - but then perhaps the sheer urgency of my assault proved to be just as powerful as the longer and more tender caresses I normally gave her - anyway, from the moment my mouth and tongue began licking and sucking her, it immediately became obvious she was absolutely revelling in my focus on that most sensitive part of her.

And, after all the time I'd been thinking about doing that, once I was able to, I of course made the very most of it.

I quite literally feasted on her!

I kissed, licked, nibbled - then probed and twirled my tongue deep inside her - before slurping, sucking and swallowing the juices that were by then freely and liberally flowing from her. Then, pressing two stiffened fingers deeper than my tongue had been able to reach, and curling them so as to try to find that often elusive g-spot, I began flicking her stiffly swollen clitoris with just the tip of my tongue.

Whether it was what my tongue was doing, or that my fingers had found precisely the right spot, or perhaps it was the combination of both - the climax that eventually hit her certainly seemed even more powerful than usual, and if it hadn't been for the muffling the surrounding trees and bushes gave us, her shrieks of ecstatic excitement could well have alerted almost everyone in the rest of her street.

I stayed there, licking and sucking her until she had worked through two more, only slightly smaller peaks, then she finally pushed me weakly back off her. 'You must be feeling absolutely desperate by now my darling.' she gasped. 'But not out here - the ground is awfully hard.' she explained as she pushed herself upwards. 'And pass me my clothes please, I'm not treating anyone who might be watching to the sight of a back-yard streaker.' she added with a wickedly cheeky grin.

She did no more than a cursory cover up; just slipping the track-suit pants on and clutching her bra and panties in one hand and the flapping shirt-front in the other, then the pair of us scampered quickly across the grass to the back door.

'Now as the blokes usually say to the girls - get your gear off!' she instructed, before hurriedly looking around the kitchen.

'I think you're tall enough for us to do it right here.' she said, dropping her pants and discarding the shirt before turning her back to the counter-top, then hoisting herself up on to it.

As I stripped off my own clothes, she wriggled herself forward until just a small portion of her bottom was resting on the smooth surface, then lifted and spread her legs, and said. 'Now darling, this time I don't want you to make love to me, this time I just want you to simply fuck me!'

And of course by then that was exactly what my rampantly engorged cock was demanding - and once I had slid it upwards into the slippery slickness of her, and she had curled both her arms and her legs tightly around me - that was precisely what I did - what we did - with and to each other. As we had on just two or three previous occasions, we fucked - more like animals than a tenderly loving couple.

Once fully embedded, I drove powerfully back and forth, each time burying my over-bloatedly sizzling cock deep and hard into her. Each thrust both stretching and opening her.

And Bethany obviously loved it - not only urging me on - but also gripping me ever more tightly as she jerked herself forward to meet even the most forceful of my lust fuelled thrusts.

Given the level of excitement that had built in me while I fantasised about her, then while I was actually able to feast myself on her lusciously ripe pussy, I wasn't too surprised to feel my body working its way much more quickly than usual through the stages that would lead to my inevitable climax.

Not surprised - but definitely disappointed.

The feelings I was getting from what we were doing - actually fucking on that counter-top, there in her kitchen - plus the sheer exhilaration of the sensations her tight but undoubtedly welcoming pussy were giving me, were such that I would have loved to have had some way of prolonging them.

But that was not to be, and it wasn't long before I felt that distinctive surge, and, jamming my cock even deeper, I felt the first of what proved to be a long series of dizzyingly explosive gouts of semen jetting into her.

And although her almost synchronised screeching cries of her own release were nowhere near as ear-splitting as the sounds she had made in the garden, the addition of my deeper, more guttural ones no doubt more than made up for them.




Chapter 22

The week-end following what we came to refer to as our 'FFF' (Fast and Furious Fucking) in her kitchen, was that for the cricket match between Jason's school and their long-standing rivals, a similar boys school located some forty five minutes drive away. And that was of course the game that Jason had invited me to.

As the match was a combination of being something of a local Derby - the two schools' very long-standing rivalry covering a range of inter-school activities - and the final match of the season for both schools, great efforts were apparently always made to make the whole day a rather special one; for both the boys themselves and perhaps even more so for the relatives and friends the schools hoped to attract as spectators.

Bethany explained that although we would therefore not have to bother with taking a picnic with us, and although the day and setting were by their nature, informal, we should still make a bit of an effort to look the best we could. What I gathered from that was that she would be using this as an excuse to head out to buy herself a new outfit - which I of course would not be allowed to see until I went to pick them all up early that Saturday morning.

So, when Jason opened the door and then took me through to the garden - where he said his brother and mother were waiting -at first I wondered who on earth the woman was that I found myself looking at.

Apart from everything else about her - it was the hair that really threw me right off balance.

Until then I had of course only seen Bethany wearing her hair in one of the various types of coif she fixed it into, that or - as I of course much preferred - with the full length of it cascading down over her back and shoulders.

But this woman, this extraordinarily beautifully dressed woman - who was half-turned away from me - had quite shortish hair, apparently cut into a just below ear-length bob, the ends of which were then curved elegantly forward.

I just had time to take in everything else about her; the soft pale green, matching blouse and knee-length pleated skirt - which were patterned with a shadowy, russet-toned design, that might have been inspired by the rapidly approaching fall of autumnal leaves. An ensemble that was made even more smartly stylish by the large-brimmed, same-colour hat that was obviously designed to shield her face from all but the most direct glare of sunlight.

But then she turned, and of course it was Bethany - and even though she looked totally different from the way she had then, she was still as arousingly attractive as she had been in the crimson dress she'd worn on that never to be forgotten night of the Founders' Ball.

'Ah Mark, as always, on time - and looking even more handsome than usual!' she said with a tenderly loving smile.

She must have seen my continuing look of confusion and guessed the cause. 'It's the hair, isn't it. Don't fret, I've not had it cut - just coiled it rather differently to the ways I normally do. Do you like it darling?'

I mentally breathed a sigh of relief - the thought that she might just have had a moment of sheer, utter madness, and had that erotic abundance trimmed, had occurred to me. 'It, no you, you look simply fantastic darling! And yes, I was thrown by the hair - for a moment there, I wondered who this gorgeous creature was.' I added with a bit of a roguish grin.

'So you approve of the outfit I bought?'

'Oh yes, very definitely - as always, your taste is absolutely perfect. You look positively scrumptious!'

Bethany chuckled, cast a quick look across at where the two boys were standing, then replied softly and rather enigmatically. 'Well we can talk about that aspect of things, sometime later.'





Choral Evenings Pt. 03



So I suppose it was not too surprising that it wasn't that long before I felt my body tightening, flexing as the pressure inside me rose quickly higher and higher - and as Bethany felt my increasingly powerful responses, she obviously remembered the effect she had had on me the afternoon of our picnic - and she further increased the thrills I was experiencing by starting that low, deep-throated humming.

And of course, that did it! I felt the surge, the rush, the feeling of urgency as the accumulated semen literally came to the boil - then the excruciating exhilaration as the first jet scalded its way up through my cock - felt it, and then those that almost immediately followed it, spouting deep into the back of Bethany's still humming throat.

Of course to enable her to swallow it, she had to stop the humming, but by then I really didn't care about that, all I could think about was the continuing elated euphoria I experienced as Bethany pumped and sucked what felt like every last single drop of fluid from me.





Choral Evenings Pt. 03



Sometimes she relaxed herself so her pussy slipped easily and smoothly up and down the total length of me - and sometimes she re-tightened it, then used that tightness to turn my bloated cock-head white hot from the intensity of the friction to it.

So, with my mouth full of her breasts and nipples, and her body with my cock - we took each other to that place that no other people could ever reach; with our love fuelled lust for each other powering us, and our ever-willing bodies providing the transport, we climbed, we soared, we rocketed to our own private and utterly euphoric paradise.