We’d met just over a month ago and seemed to have instant chemistry. We’d been fucking for about three weeks – not non-stop, of course, taking time out for meals and to go to work, etcetera, but at every possible opportunity. He was great in the sack, creative and generous, not to mention nicely endowed, and I’d tried to give back as good as I got, but since my orgasms outnumbered his by a factor of probably five to one or more, I always felt like I got the best end of the bargain. Then again, it’s not my fault that he was born male (although I’m so thankful he was!) and that I’m strongly multi-orgasmic… once again, something I’m quite thankful for.

And so it was that afternoon, a Sunday in June, when we’d gone hiking in the morning and come home to my apartment to make love in the afternoon. We’d finished up just minutes before, his cock throbbing powerfully as he’d filled me with one of his trademark massive loads, and now he remained atop me, his softening cock still bathing in my tight, soupy pussy and my legs wrapped around him as we caught our breath. I’d come when he did, something I almost always do to the powerful flexing and throbbing of his thick cock buried deep, but I’d come twice before that, too, not counting the one during foreplay, so I was quite satisfied.

I felt his cock twitch with a delayed aftershock, which made me tighten and squeeze, which forced his rubbery cock to slither out like a slippery eel, both of us gasping at the sensation.

“Fuck! You just shot me right out!”

“Sorry, but you twitched, and all I did was react – involuntarily, as it happens.”

He rolled off me tiredly and laid his head on my breast. “I was planning to stay a little longer.”

“You should have stayed harder.”

He laughed tiredly. “Easy for you to say, you insatiable wench.”

I laughed. “I know. That was fun; as always, you were amazing.”

“Thanks, you too.” He turned enough to lick my hyper-sensitive nipple, earning a shudder from me, and a moan when he caught my pink nub between his lips and sucked. I was so sensitive that his touch was pleasure bordering on pain, but I certainly didn’t want him to stop! To my surprise, knowing his ardor was temporarily sated and that he was down for the count, he didn’t.

He licked his way across to my other breast and gave that nipple equal time, and despite my very satisfying string of orgasms, my hips responded accordingly, as hips do.

He noticed. “Fuck, you’re a horny thing!”

“Just one of the many, many things you love about me.”

“Very true.” He began to lick and kiss his way down my tummy, his lips and tongue on me, leaving flaming trails on my sensitive flesh. His tongue probed my navel, and I sucked in my breath, ticklish, but he stayed with it until my hips, with a mind of their own, lifted my tummy to his eager lips.

He laughed. “I own you, you know.”

“As long as you keep doing that, you do, yes.”

He moved lower, feathering kisses on my smooth mound. I moaned, and he dropped lower still, his tongue sneaking between my lips to touch my sensitive clit.

“Ohhh, God! What are you doing?”

“What do you think I’m doing?”

“Now, with me like this? I’m a mess, you know.”

“A beautiful, sexy, arousing mess.”

“But isn’t that kind of… you know, gross?”

“Gross? No…” He licked me, and my reservations began to crumble. “Sensual, delicious, arousing, a lot of things, but never gross.”

He licked me again, and I saw him gather some of his cum and my juices - our mix – on his tongue and swallow, and any remaining resistance faltered.

“Ohh, my God, you’re going to make me come…”

“Yes, I am.” He repositioned himself between my legs, looking down at my sloppy, messy pussy, and pushed my legs up so my knees were at my shoulders, holding me there, tilted back and spread as he drank in the sight. “Fuck me, but that’s an incredibly beautiful, sensual mess!”

“Oh, Richard, I don’t know…”

He lowered his lips to my sex and licked me, stern to stem, and I gasped – and then I knew. I came, sudden and hard, my cunt still sensitive from the thorough fucking he’d just given me, and I cried out and thrust my hips up, pushing my pussy into his face and welcoming his attention. I was his, utterly and completely, and he was free to do whatever he wished with me. And he did.

I came hard, and then again, and then again, and he lapped and licked and stayed with me, sucking up his massive load and all of the arousal juices I’d mixed with it. He made wet, smacking, slobbery, undoubtedly disgusting noises, and it was music to my ears. My series of machine gun orgasms turned into one long, monstrous, shattering, whole-body orgasm, and I bucked and swore and begged for more.

He was ruthless, relentless, and I was out of control, bucking into his face one moment, trying to escape the next, pushing at his head, trying to get him to back off for a moment and let me breathe, then suddenly grabbing his hair or grasping his head in my hands and jamming his face into my molten, tortured pussy.

It was the never-ending climax, as powerful and unstoppable as an ocean current, as eternal as the stars, the nexus of my existence. It seemed to go on and on, and the euphoria I felt was indescribable, a joy at feeling something so impossibly wonderful, so all-consuming, and yet a profound sadness that I’d lived twenty-two years without ever feeling anything like it before.

I never wanted it to end… I needed it to end… I couldn’t take any more, but I also couldn’t give up a solitary second of the most powerful orgasm I’d had in my young life, and I screamed and bucked and twisted until suddenly my body went rigid and bowed up off the bed to meet him, every muscle taut and my entire being focused on what was happening at my groin, my pussy, the center of my universe, the contractions of my sexual muscles almost painful as I sailed over a peak I’d never before approached. And then I collapsed, limp, exhausted, dizzy, my head spinning.

He rode me down, continuing to lick and lap at my pussy until I begged him to stop, smacking the top of his head and pushing him away. When he finally relented, I rolled onto my side and curled into a fetal position; my entire body wracked with powerful shudders that I thought might never end. Every nerve ending in my body was lit up, the mere touch of the soft sheet on my skin almost painful, and when he reached out and ran his fingers up my thigh and over the curve of my ass, I cried out and swore at him.

He pulled away. “Are you okay?”

“Ohhh, my God.” Another series of aftershocks shuddered through me.

“Rayne, baby… are you crying?”

I hadn’t realized it, but I was, sobbing, tears streaming down my face. “Oh, Richie, my God…”

“Did I hurt you?”

“Oh, no, God no! You did anything but hurt me. It’s just, you know, a dumb female thing, I guess. A reaction to such a powerful, awesome experience. I can’t help it.”

“But I didn’t hurt you?”

“No, you didn’t hurt me. You astonished me and amazed me, and gave me the best, by far, orgasm I’ve ever had, but you didn’t hurt me.”

“You’re sure?”

“I’m sure. I may have some sore muscles tomorrow because that was a whole body workout, but now I’m just riding the wave.”

When I shuddered again, he said, “You’re still feeling it?”

I wiped my eyes on the corner of the sheet, drying my involuntary tears. “I think I’ll feel it for a very long time. Where in the hell did you learn to do that?”

“That’s the first time I’ve ever tried it.”

“Really? My God, you’re a natural!”

“It was good?”

“It was earth-shattering. How about for you, not too gross?”

“Not at all gross. I loved every second, especially the way you reacted. In fact…” He rose to his knees and leaned back, and his cock stood proud from his groin like a flagpole, rock hard and throbbing.

“Wow, that was quick! It turned you on that much?”

“I thought I was going to come when you did! Seriously, it was intensely arousing. The taste, the scent, your body, your sounds…”

“Mmm, I like that! It was so amazing. I’ve never felt anything like that before, and I’ve never felt more loved.”

“Good, because I do love you.”

It was the first time either of us had said it, although I think we’d known almost at once, and my tears flowed anew. “I love you too. You’re an amazing man.”

“You too… woman, I mean.”

I smiled. “I knew what you meant. Bring that here, okay?”

He knee-walked forward until I could take his beautiful cock in my mouth, and I sucked him, tasting us, tasting the sweet leakage of his arousal. He was impossibly hard, especially considering how recently he’d come, and as he slowly began to slide himself in and out, fucking my mouth, he said, “You wanna do it again?”

I let him slip free. “What… that? Everything we just did?”

“Yeah, that.”

“I don’t know if I could survive another round like that.”

“Should we find out?”

“Yes, let’s!”

I was greasy with my juices and his cum and saliva, and he slipped into me easily and deeply as I came yet again – not the soul-searing climax like I’d just experienced, but there’s no such thing as a bad orgasm. Round two, while not as shattering because I knew what to expect, was still a full-body, very memorable experience as he cleaned up after himself again, and I did, in fact, survive, as you may have surmised as you read this now, some seventeen years later.

Clearly, it was a life-altering experience, because I married him. You don’t let a man like that get away! We still engage in that activity regularly, Richard cleaning up after himself or one (or more) of our other friends, and it’s special and amazing every time. I know I’ve had most of my most powerful, special orgasms that way, for whatever that weird fact says about us.

I’ve now had the opportunity to do some of that cleanup myself, with our friend Gina, after Richard (or, again, one of our other friends) and we have shared a moment. I enjoy doing it almost as much as I enjoy having it done because I can experience what it’s like to give that kind of pleasure, and licking her clean always leaves me horny and dripping. Luckily, someone is always willing to help a girl in need…