All Need Touch

Another breathy sigh and I was certain she was thinking what I was thinking. Damn the consequences, I was tired of beating around the bush. I slid my hands up, each palm dragging across an erect nipple.

“Yes,” she breathed, almost as if she’d thought I would never get to this point.

I cupped the tiny mounds, just feeling their shape and negligible weight. I’d never touched a woman like this before, I’d never even had a desire to do it, but there was something about Angie that begged for touch.

She turned in the water now, opening her legs to straddle mine, facing me. Her arms went up around my neck and she kissed me hungrily. I circled her waist with my arms, pulling her hard against my body and I fed her my tongue, pushing it deep into her sweet mouth. She sucked on it eagerly, moaning into my mouth.

Keeping her hands braced on my shoulders, Angie began to grind into me, as if to try and fuck me with something she didn’t possess. I laughed gently at her desperation and asked, “What is it you want to feel, little girl.”

“Just you,” she said, her eyes half-lidded with her lust. “Touch me down there.”

She was on her knees and I was able to cup her small ass cheeks and lift her up slightly. I teased her by pushing back harder against her, my pelvic bone rubbing her clit. Her breath quickened then and she might’ve cum if I’d let her.

Instead, I moved my hands underneath her until both my middle fingers touched her fuzzy slit. They were puffy and much more slippery than just water could make them. I pulled her lips and exposed her clit more. She gasped and wiggled into my hand. I held her open that way and it was my turn to grind harder. She made the most wonderful little whimpers.

Propping her on my thighs now, I moved my right hand until my fingers slid easily from her clit to her tight little asshole. As I stoked her clit, she started to pant and whine, digging her colored nails into my shoulders.

Just as I knew she reached the point of no return - just as her orgasm began - I pressed my middle finger deep into her tight little pussy.

It was mind-numbing, hearing her cries of pleasure just under my ear, feeling her muscles contract and squeeze my finger like a hot moist vice. I nearly came myself but I kept it at bay. I didn’t want to lose control right now, I was having too much fun.

My finger fucked her just a little roughly and I suddenly had the urge to kiss her. With my other hand, I grabbed a fistful of her hair and tugged her head back. She screamed and the spasms on my finger actually grew stronger. I covered her mouth with mine and swallowed her cries.

When it finally ended, she collapsed on my chest and I gently slid my finger out of her pussy. I held her tightly, bringing the warm water up to stream over her shivering shoulders, even though I knew she wasn’t trembling from cold.

A few minutes later, I pushed her up and we got out. She seemed very quiet now, very subdued, very small and vulnerable. I was terrified that I’d gone too far.

I dried her off and we went back to bed, where I lay and held her again, stroking her damp hair.

“Talk to me,” I told her. “Did I push you too much?”

She shook her head on my bare chest.

“Then what’s wrong?” I demanded.

“Nothing,” she whispered. “It felt so good that I’m afraid if I make too much noise, I’ll wake up and be at home with my momma again and this will all be a dream.”

I breathed a sigh of relief and hugged her tightly. “I’ll always be here for you, sweetheart.”

It would be nice to say she left her mom, came to stay with me and lived happily ever after, but that’s not how it went. She had to go home to momma and back to school, but she spent most weekends with me. I continued to touch her in every way she desired and I didn’t ask anything in return. I really wasn’t interested in having her touch me, I would cum later if I needed to. She was just a sponge needing the attention so much and it made me feel complete to give it to her.

I helped her through those last months of high school, discovering that not only did she love to write, but she had a true talent for it. I put her in touch with the right people and she won herself a full scholarship in journalism out at UCLA.

She moved out there and I went back to dating various men. I never had another desire to be with a woman, none of them seemed to interest me the way Angie did. This was eight years ago. Angie emails me every once in awhile, and the last time, she attached a picture of her husband, a bright young attorney. She got over her fear of guys. I like to think that some of our talks helped her with that. In the picture, her once-flat warm tummy was bulging with promise. She wanted it to be a girl and said she would name her Jamie.

I smiled to myself, thinking that was very sweet.

THE END