'Oh, God, yes!' and raised her hips up in welcome to my penetrations.
Her second orgasm arrived more quickly than the first had, and was more powerful, as well. The third time she climaxed, I was definitely getting tired – but stayed the course so she wouldn't be denied even the slightest pleasure. When it was over for her, I was holding myself still; she realized I wasn't moving and looked up to see that I had a fine sheen of perspiration on my face and body. Concerned, she asked 'You're tired?'
I admitted that I was, and she immediately told me 'Then you lay down, and let me do the work, now – though I don't think this can rightly be called 'work', when it feels so damn good!', smiling.
I eased myself out of her – she released a small moan of disappointment when I slipped free – and moved to lie on my back. She quickly climbed on top of me, then took my slick penis in her hand and held it steady as she unhesitatingly lowered herself onto it – smiling in pleasure as she did so.
Once her smooth ass cheeks had settled into my 'lap', it didn't take her long to start moving herself on me. Rocking her hips back and forth, she only moving along perhaps a third of my manhood – but the rest was still deep inside her, clearly bringing her pleasure as she moved on me.
It didn't take her long to discover that if she leaned forward a bit, she could not only move herself on me, but get her clitoris involved, too. When that happened, she started enjoying things even more – which is saying something.
Still, with her being the 'active' one (I wasn't just laying there, mind you), and the orgasms she was having, it didn't take all that long for her own considerable energy to be drained.
She was softly panting as she held herself over me, my penis buried in her while she rested on me, when I suggested 'Let's change over again.'
'I guess I am getting tired, too – but its a nice tired!', she admitted/declared, before letting me guide her off my manhood. She readily laid on her back, her legs open to leave room for me between them. I positioned myself as closely as I could to her womanhood, then sat on my heels. Seeing what I was doing, she helped me pull her a little closer, then draped her legs over mine. Easing my hips back a little, I was able to push my penis down and position myself at her glistening entrance before slipping into her again. When I stopped, a bit over half my length was inside her while I sat in a more-or-less 'neutral' position; from where I was positioned, I could easily slide almost my entire erection in and out of her with little effort. Leaning forward, I supported my torso with my arms and began pumping in and out of her slowly. I could feel the head of my penis running along the top of her vagina due to the different angle that I was entering her. I don't know, of course, if there is such a thing as the 'G-spot' in women; but I can vouch for the fact that my contact with that part of her vagina seemed to excite her almost as much as it did when my pubic bone bumped against her erect and visible clitoris.
The orgasms she'd experienced while she was on top of me had done a pretty good job of getting me excited. So when our new position and the way I was bumping against her clit pushed her into yet another orgasm a couple minutes later, the sensation of her vaginal muscles tightening around me in a milking sensation got me to the point where I knew I was going to climax before long. After the spasming in her body tapered off, I gradually sped up the pace at which I was thrusting into her, accompanied by her loud moans of pleasure. It took only a couple more minutes before I could see and feel that she was getting close again – which was good, because I wasn't far off, either.
Accompanied by a loud cry, she tightened around me again as I continued to thrust into her. I was almost there myself, and the clenching of her womanhood was finally enough to push me over the edge: with a couple of slow, deep thrusts into her, I buried myself as far in her as I could before starting to spray her insides with my cum. When that happened, she cried out again and pressed herself against me as the spasms going through her body intensified again.
I think both of us finished our climaxes about the same time; as Evelyn was lowering her pelvis, I was letting my arms relax so I could rest on my elbows. That brought the hard points of her nipples into contact with my chest, which produced a happy noise in her and a twitching in my mostly-erect penis for me. Otherwise, the two of us just softly panted into each other's ear as we recovered from our pleasures.
We stayed like that long enough that I finally shrank enough to pull free of the grip of her womanhood. When it happened, she softly giggled in my ear. I asked her what was so funny, and she told me 'When you went out of me like that, all of a sudden I felt a draft in a place I sometimes thought I'd never get to use.'
I turned my head a bit and softly nibbled her ear – causing her body to shudder in response – before I told her 'Well, you have used it, now. And you seemed pretty pleased about it, too!', teasing her.
She turned her head and kissed me before answering 'WE used it, Dan – and I am pleased. Way more than I thought I could be!'
We stayed like that for a little longer before she told me 'It feels so nice, having you over me like this; its like you're a living blanket for me – but I can feel myself starting to, um, leak, and I don't want to make a mess on the bed.'
After I kissed her shoulder, I told her 'Stay there, then – I'll be back in just a minute.' Then, before she could say anything, I moved off of her and headed for the bathroom. I was back quickly with a warm, damp washcloth and a couple of towels. She smiled at me and reached for the washcloth; I just shook my head and started gently cleaning her pelvis. When I was done, I dried her off with one towel, then carefully folded the other before telling her 'If you want to sit up, I can put this under you. Then when I sit down next to you, I can hold you without you having to worry about anything.' She happily nodded her understanding, and did as I said – it took just a moment before she settled down on it.
With her taken care of, I went on to clean myself up, too – unembarrassed by the fact that she was watching me. When I was done, I set the towel aside with the washcloth on top of it before taking a seat next to her. I put my arm around her, and she snuggled into my side with a contented sigh. After a bit, she reached up and started toying with the hairs on my chest before telling me 'Thank you, Dan.'
Surprised, I asked 'Whatever for?'
'For showing me that I was right to trust you. For loving me as much as you do. For letting me know that there wasn't anything to be embarrassed about after we made love by cleaning me up, and then letting me watch you clean yourself. For making love to me. For helping me learn that I can enjoy making love, even after what happened to me. For understanding how that hurt me, without pitying me, too. Most of all, for just being who you are, I think.'
I kissed the top of her head, and she looked up at me as I told her 'Evelyn, if I've done all that for you – and since you say that I did, I'll accept that – then it has only been because of who YOU are. You're smart, you're brave, you're loving, and everything else that somebody could want in another person. If I did those things for you, then it's only because you deserved it just for being you.'
I could see her eyes getting wet, but from the expression on her face, I was pretty sure they were tears of happiness. I knew I was right when she reached around me to give me a hug before settling into my side again.
As we sat there, we talked. Well, actually, it was Evelyn that talked, mostly. My contribution was to ask questions and comment every now and then, while she told me about all the things that were going on in her life, and what she wanted to do. It turned out that she truly enjoyed art – particularly painting; but her parents wanted her to go to college. She didn't want to disappoint them after all they'd done for her, but she loved painting too much to be willing to do it only as a hobby. I pointed out to her that there was such a thing as a commercial artist – as well as a number of other occupations that would let her paint for a living. Granted, she wouldn't have the freedom to paint what she wanted, but it would give her the chance to earn a living while doing something she liked. She considered that for a while, and finally said that she thought she could do that – that in art classes, she frequently had to paint whatever the teacher specified as a subject, anyway. Then I explained that if she was a commercial artist, she might accidentally get inspiration to paint things that she might not have thought about otherwise, and that working commercially would help her develop and refine a variety of different techniques. She looked up at me with a grin and asked if I'd tell her dad about what I'd just said – he didn't think that she would be able to support herself just through painting. I said that I would, and added that I would not be telling him how and where we had gotten onto the subject – causing her to have a fit of giggles at what she expected her dad's reaction would be if he knew.
I was starting to feel a bit sleepy when I suggested to her that we could take a shower – together or separately, her choice – and go to bed. She considered it for a moment, then looked up at me with a smile on her face and asked 'We can shower together?'
