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I loved the way he held my head when I kissed his penis. He was always gentle, stroking wisps of hair away from my face or tracing the curve of my ear. Sweet slickness spread across my mouth as I continued to slide along his penis. I felt my own body answering, labia warming and thickening to tell me that I wanted him again. I moved my hand from his balls to that spot between my own legs, enjoying the handful of excitement that I found. An urge to feel full again swept away the soreness - I'd deal with that in the morning. My fingers pressed and entered, and proved to me that I wanted him again.

Giving one more kiss and squeeze, I let go of Steve and reached down beside the bed. I pulled a condom from my purse, then sat up to examine the package in the night's half-light. I could see Steve looking at me now, one arm behind his head and the other hand stroking his penis. The little envelope tore easily. I rolled it down his shaft xarefully, since he did the first one and I'd only practiced on inanimate objects befor.

Steve got up on one elbow, but I pushed him back. "No," I said and straddled his lap. By now, I was trembling with excitement. I leaned over his chest, supporting myself on the bed with one hand. My other hand reached down to the penis between my legs; I lifted my hips and used it to tease open my inner labia. I looked down, but there wasn't much to see in the darkness. After a moment of fumbling, I guided the tip to my body's entrance and pressed a little of the head in.

I sat up straight, still holding it, and lowered my erect body onto his erection. I lifted myself with my legs and lowered onto it again, a fraction deeper this time, then again. When it was far enough in, I took my hand away. I looked into his moonlit face, then, and saw the most wonderful smile. Tension held every part of his body and lifted his head off the pillow. I pushed him back, rose, and settled ever deeper onto his erection. When I thought I couldn't go lower, I tilted my hip, sat back onto him, and felt a flutter high in my stomach as if his penis had gone that far into me.

I couldn't reach his chest while sitting up straight, but held his waist in my hands. The dim light showed his whole torso wound tight. I put one hand to my own breast, and rolled the nub of a nipple between finger and thumb. I blurted out, "Have you ever seen a girl play with herself?"

A confused look hit his face. "But girls can't -"

"But girls can." I sounded a lot braver and more certain than I felt. He lay back with a hand on each of my thighs. I lifted a little, let my free hand move to my clitoris, and sat again. It felt new, playing with my clit and feeling all that fullness behind it. Most of all, it felt shivery new to be seen doing what had only ever been private before. My thoughts whirled, doing what nice girls don't do but what's right in every part of me, being shier and bolder than ever before, all at once. The affection and wonder when Steve looked at me said it was right, and my body loved to be loved.

At first, I just stroked my clitoris, way back from the tip where the feeling would have been too much. Then my hips started moving on their own, lifting off his lap and settling back down until his erection touched something deep inside. I shifted front and back, too, feeling his penis tilting against my inner walls. My other hand cupped my breast even tighter, with my nipple held firmly between two fingers.

In a few minutes, it happened. I stared at Steve with my mouth open in a frozen sigh, my breath locked in my throat. I rubbed my clitoris furiously, fast but not hard, to keep the intensity at its peak. My pelvis slammed down onto him, trapping my fingers between his pubis and mine.

The tremors lasted longer than ever before, with occasional waves of orgasm still rising above the receding tide.

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