should my tongue be, and how hard when and where? As it turned out, she liked just about anything I did, if I kept at it. But by this time, she was grunting and moaning and gasping for breath, along with pressing my face into her crotch and muttering incoherently, so I finally settled in to bringing her off: light flickering sensations with the tip of my tongue, not too quickly, and firmly, so that she could feel them without it hurting her. To my surprise, it was just a matter of a minute or so before it hit her: she snapped her pelvis up again, slammed her legs together, and pushed my face into her as she spasmed. My lower lip was against her vaginal lips, and I could feel her vaginal muscles as they clenched, time and again – pushing even more of her fragrant juices onto my chin and down her ass. With my head immobilized by her legs, I could only look up toward her breasts, which were still, as her breathing stopped for several long seconds, as she experienced the first spasm of her first orgasm. Then she gasped, and had another spasm, this one a bit shorter than the last. Several more times it all happened, with each period shorter than the one before, until she was finally able to breathe continuously. It was only then, thoroughly exhausted, that she released my head from between her legs, and lowered her ass and pelvis.
As she gasped, trying to get her breath back, I moved back up, so that I was lying next to her when she opened her eyes. It took her a few seconds to focus, and a couple more before she was able to recognize me.
When she did, though, she wrapped her arms around my neck, and hugged me so hard I couldn't breathe. She finally let go, and laid back again; it was another minute or two before she could try to talk – even then, it took her a couple of tries before she was able to get anything out.
'Wow!'
'I take it you liked it, then?' I asked, laughing a bit.
She laughed a bit in return, and said,'Yeah, you could say that. I understand what you meant about trying to explain an orgasm to me, now.
'Little death', my foot! I thought I DID die!'
'I take it I did okay, then?' I asked, mischievously.
She just gave me the 'goober' look, and said, 'You don't have to beg; you know how good you did!'
'Well, at least tell me that you think you can take care of yourself, from now on – I thought you were trying to kill me there, a couple of times!'
She laughed, and answered, 'Well, you said to let you know if I liked something! Well, I liked all of it! And yes, I think I can do it myself from now on – though I wouldn't mind a little help from you, sometimes!'
'C'mon, Trouble. We can't make a habit of this, remember? Besides, I don't know that either one of us could stand too many repeats of this!'
She giggled, and said, 'Yeah, I suppose you're right about that – but how many is TOO many?'
'Damned if I know. But let's just take it easy, okay? And let what happens, happen? There's no sense in trying to push it any, even though it was fun for me, too.'
'On the subject of fun for you, too, I think I'm entitled to a little more helping, am I not?' she asked.
'What do you mean?'
'Well, we agreed that I was going to get to learn everything except actual sex – and as much fun as that was, I still haven't learned anything about YOU.'
'Jan, I'm really serious when I say that you don't have to do anything for ME. I actually had enough fun 'helping' you, and seeing the results was enough of a reward for me.'
'Well, it isn't enough for me, Mister! I still want to know what happens when a man has an orgasm – and maybe even find out what it's like to do to you what you did to me!'
'What thing I did to you?'
'That thing you did with your mouth DOWN THERE, you big dummy. All the rest of it was just feeling good – no, terrific! – until you started*that* business!'
'In case you forgot, I'm not put together the same way you are, Trouble.
You doing 'that thing' to me is a whole lot different that what I did to you – with different results.'
She grabbed my head and kissed me, before realizing what the wetness was on my face. When we separated, I could see her reacting to the taste of her own juices that had been on my lips. She puzzled over it for a moment, before smiling, and asking me 'Is that what I taste like, down there?'
'Yup. Looks like you don't mind it too much, either.'
'No, I don't, I guess. It tastes funny, but not bad or anything. That doesn't mean that I like girls, does it?'
'Jan, you won't know if you like girls or not until you actually try one – just like you won't really know if you'll like sex until you try IT.
Besides, there's nothing wrong with liking girls – I do!'
That got me a laugh from her before she continued, 'You know what I mean. Does me not minding my own taste mean that I'm lesbian or something?'
'No, I don't think it means that. If you ever tried it, you might find that you do like girls, but that doesn't mean that you can't like boys, too – or like boys better. It's kind of like going to a restaurant – if they don't have the thing you like most, it might be nice having something else that's almost as good, or just as good in a different way.'
'I understand what you mean – but I think I'll wait a while on that. Um, do you have a, uh, second choice?'
'No, darlin, I'm pretty much set on the female persuasion. I don't have anything against gay people; I just don't have any interest in being one. I'm an outie, and girls are innies, and that seems to work pretty well for me.'
She laughed, and said, 'Yeah, I can understand that – I think I'm going to be partial to 'outies', myself. But maybe some day, I'll find out if another 'innie' can be fun, too.'
That pretty much ended conversation for a bit, until I offered to get up and get us something to drink. She opted for a Coke, and that sounded pretty good to me, too, so I brought us each back a can from the fridge.
We laid there for a little while, just cuddling, before I saw her get a little gleam in her eye.
She kissed me again, and our tongues danced a bit before she surprised me by pulling away, and starting to lick the remains of her juices from my face – and then off any other part of my body she could smell it on, including my chest and my fingers. The thought of it started turning me on, and before long, I had a blue-veiner erection – which she duly noticed.
She scooted down – nearly giving me eyestrain watching her breasts jiggle – and took the situation firmly in hand.
She carefully examined it for several moments, before turning her head toward me and asking me 'Um, so what do I need to do to make you climax?'
I told her 'Well, the easiest thing for you would probably be just use your hand.'
'How do I do that?'
'Well, relax your grip a little – thank you! – and sort of slide your hand up and down it. It helps, too, if you sort of play with my testicles a little.'
'Show me how, would you?'
So, I showed her, a little. Taking her hand in mine, I started masturbating myself a few times, so that she could get an idea of how hard to grip and all that. As she got more comfortable with it, I relaxed my hold on her hand, and eventually left her alone. She proved to be an apt student, and soon had me looking for release.
Even though she was doing a fine job, and playing with my balls, she seemed to sense that it wasn't quite enough. It was when she touched herself between her legs, and felt me stiffen a little more in her hand, that she got the idea to turn herself toward me, and masturbate herself while I watched. Watching her as she used her free hand to play with her breasts and rub her clitoris and caress her labia soon had me close to coming. I told her that I was close to climax, and she absolutely blew my mind by sliding a finger into herself, pulling it out, and sucking the juices off it while staring me in the eye the whole time. It was enough to push me over the edge, and I started blowing my load. When she felt my penis start to pulse, she quickly focused her attention on it, and watched as the first couple of blasts shot semen well into the air, landing on my chest, and then belly. The ones after that pretty much stayed on her hand, as she continued stroking me during my climax – and getting my penis (and her hand) thoroughly wetted with semen.
It was only when I started to soften that she released her grip, and examined the results of her efforts: first, looking over the accumulated wetness on her hand, then smelling it. Then she looked at the wads of semen that rested on my belly and in my pubic hair, feeling their texture between her fingers. Finally, surprising me, she wiped up the first spurt that had landed on my chest, and stuck her tongue out to taste it. She contemplated its flavor for
