Chapter 21

... Sally joined him as they snuggled down into the soft folds of the blanket. She said, "Frankie . . . ," as she ran her palms from his stomach to his back and slowly pulled him closer.

He could feel her nipples as they pushed and strained against his skin as though they were trying to siphon nourishment from him. And being sucked dry was currently at the top of his list.

He answered, "What?" and started to slide his hand into her panties when she arched her hips. He understood and slipped them down as she obligingly raised her knee and removed one leg from the lacy garment. Sally then reached down, lowered the panties over her other leg, and tossed them to the side.

Frankie moved his hand to the downy curls between her legs and slipped his finger partially into her wetness. With a quick and shallow breath, she parted her legs slightly and whispered, "I've never done this before," almost apologizing with her tone.

"Done what?" he said as he leaned over, kissed her, and synchronized the rhythms of his tongue and finger.

"This. Well, not this. But . . . well the next stuff. You know. I've never . . ." she said, gasping at the ever deepening strokes probing into her slippery softness.

Frankie looked a little surprised and said, "You've never? . . . at twenty-four? . . . never?" he said and added a mate to the finger still inside Sally.

"Well I tried a few times but I couldn't do it with just anyone. It never seemed right until I met you." Sally felt herself tighten around the fingers that would soon be replaced by something much larger.

"I didn't know that you felt that way about me," he said as he gently withdrew his fingers but kept his hand on her mound. He wasn't sure how he felt about her, but he knew that there was something about her -- something that kept her in his thoughts and in his dreams more than he would like to admit. Frankie added, "Are you sure?"

Sally sat up slightly said, "Well let's see. I'm completely naked. You've just determined that I'm a quart low with your fingers, and if you don't take your underwear off soon, the crotch is going to explode. Yes, Frankie, I'm sure."

As he maneuvered to remove his briefs, her hands slowly encompassed his waist and gently urged him closer. Their lips touched, her breasts were against his, her rose-tipped nipples again burrowing into his flesh.

His pulsating manhood was strategically positioned between her legs, and Sally slowly parted them so that the throbbing head of his erection could slowly pass along the sensitive valley of her womanly desires. She gently thrust her hips upward and found that by doing so, his hot flesh nestled in the warm, moist folds of the portal to her femininity. She continued in this sensual rhythm as her breathing became deeper and unsteady.

When she started to gyrate in slow insistent circles, Frankie obliged by rocking with Sally's every thrust.

"Frankie . . . this . . . feels . . . so . . . good . . ." she managed between thrusts as her hands massaged the muscled planes of his back in a motion that matched the rhythmic pulsations that each had developed. Between labored breaths and frenzied writhing, she continued, " . . . so . . . so . . . good . . ."

"Sally, I have to get something. I need a few seconds."

"Frankie! What? . . . Oh . . . ," she said after she realized what Frankie meant. "Should I help, or something?"

"I'm counting on it," he said as he retrieved a package from his nearby pants pocket and removed a condom as he sat next to Sally on the blanket. "Do you know how it goes?" he asked.

"I've seen a few demonstrations with a banana, and this seems quite close," she said as her hand just barely encircled his virile masculinity. She began to stroke, slowly at first, completely fascinated by the contours and texture of his manhood. As the primal rhythm of her hand increased, Frankie turned and lowered his lips to her breast and gently rolled the pink tip with his tongue. He whispered, "If we keep this up, we not going to need the condom."

Sally quickly sheathed his glistening member and then lay back invitingly with her legs parted, the damp petals of her womanhood exposed and waiting -- hoping, begging -- to be impaled by his hot bulging shaft. This gift that could be given only once was about to be bestowed on someone who had just fallen backwards over a chair trying to get his pants off. Yet she knew her feelings could be trusted.

Frankie moved closer to Sally. Even on her back, her breasts were beautifully formed and rose with every heaving breath. He positioned himself over her, kneeling between her knees, and gently caressed her aching breasts. He leaned forward and settled his entire weight on her writhing body. As they kissed, he guided his member to her passion-moistened depths, and slowly, carefully eased himself just barely inside her.

Sally clenched and shuddered but raised her hips slightly to further drive his swollen saber into her hot, wet sheath. Frankie lowered himself again and as Sally heaved in passion, her resisting flesh split and he slid into her slowly and gently until he was completely inside her. "Are you all right?" he asked when, suddenly, she encircled him with her legs and drove him even deeper. He could feel her pulsating -- contracting and releasing his erection until he eased himself back for fear that he would explode.

"I'm fine," was the verbal reply, but her body language said much more as they began bucking and arching and colliding in almost perfect rhythm. With every withdrawal, she arched her hips and heaved beneath him so as to protest the removal of something that she now claimed as her own, if only for the moment. "Oh . . . Oh . . . Oh . . . ," came in ever louder and higher pitched moans.

Frankie kept up the rhythm that Sally had set and maintained it relentlessly. With each stroke, he slid his engorged flesh completely into her passion-moistened depths. Their breathing was in gasps -- as though the air had thinned. Her body rose up and pushed as he drove his member to its hilt with each thrust at a increasing pace. His mouth was against her neck. His breathing was fast and hard. Sally's breaths came in punctuated gasps.

He could no longer resist the increasing passion, her wriggling against him, her sighs, her legs pulling him into her ever deeper. With one final thrust, he shuddered and exploded inside her. She could feel his seed spill into her moist depths, feel the warm gush even through the condom. Dazed and motionless but still deep inside Sally, Frankie could feel her early spasms contracting against his manhood and began a slow short rhythmic stroking that soon became full length plunges of his still-aroused flesh.

Sally began to heave and writhe, naked flesh against naked flesh. Frankie increased the pace and deepened the penetration. Each thrust brought a corresponding reply when suddenly Sally reached around Frankie, pulled him against her, and began gyrating and grinding herself into him. "Yes . . . yes . . . Frankie . . . Oh . . . Oh . . . ," came as she heaved, and convulsed into a chain of explosions. The sensual waves continued as Sally was seized by great shuddering clenching spasms that squeezed and milked the throbing heat within.

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