Kevin Harding - Twice As Nice Nymph

Through the opening in the wall I can see the final frantic lunges as Thel and her husband finish too. Bob slides his hand down inside the top of my gown again. This time I don't stop him and his hand moves against my bare breasts. I hug his hand to me. We kiss. I cum again. I am completely out of control. Then there is a sudden stirring on the big double bed where my three cousins are asleep. I am sure one of them is awake. I push Bob's hand away and he must hear the others too because in a flash he is across the room and back in his own cot. I yank down my gown and bury my face in the pillow. I lie very still. But there is no more noise from the other bed. I keep looking at Thel and Fred still wrapped in a naked embrace. But Fred's penis is out of her now and looks very small. I watch him get up and walk across the room and snap out the light. Everything turns black. I lie there waiting to see if the light will come on again. I wait to see if Bob will come back to my bed. But nothing more happens. The cottage is very still. It takes me a long time to fall asleep.

The next morning I don't speak to Bob or look at him directly. I feel my face flush when The] comes over with her husband to say good-bye just before they leave. A strange emptiness comes over me as I watch their car back out of the driveway and move slowly down the narrow dirt road toward the highway. Later I doze fitfully in the back seat of our car as we make the long trip home. I open my eyes and see the heads of my parents looking straight ahead. I close my eyes again. It all happens over and over in my imagination as we cruise along the highway. Every night in bed for weeks afterwards I imagine Bob being there with me, with Thel and her husband in a room just across the way.

It is still raining when we get up. The sky is grey. I dress slowly. Armand makes a fresh pot of coffee. The delicious warmth from our lovemaking still flows through us. I am tired though. I feel that I could lie down again and sleep the rest of the day.

Armand shows me some of his paintings. They are mostly scenes of the French Quarter. Quaint old buildings with their balconies. Narrow streets. Horse drawn carts. But the faces of the people dominate them. Most people have eyes like Armand's, deep-set, brown, somehow sad. But I don't say anything to him about that. I admire the paintings, commenting on the ones I especially like. This pleases him. I don't know much at all about art but his work does seem to have a quality about it. He says he'd intended to take some of the paintings to Jackson Square to sell this afternoon but that the weather has changed all that. I feel glad he's not going away.

It strikes me strange that he has none of his paintings hanging in his room. I ask him about it.

"After I finish one, I know every line," he says. "There is no need for me to hang it up." He stacks the paintings back against the wall and gets more coffee, then lights another thin cigar.

When the rain lets up we go for a short walk. The streets smell fresh and clean. Some children are wading and splashing in a puddle around a plugged up storm sewer. We stop to watch them for a minute and Armand laughs heartily at two small boys fighting fiercely in the water. We go back to the room and Armand makes supper. A chili dish and a salad. I help him set the table but don't interfere with his making the meal. We drink wine with the chili. Armand gulps it down like water. After we finish eating, he plays some records on an old phonograph. All of them are Beethoven. He never listens to anything else he says.

We drink more wine. It makes me sleepy and I suggest going to bed. Armand agrees and after one more glass of wine we undress and get under the blankets. It isn't quite as exciting when he screws me this time but it feels good to have his big prick inside me and to cum with him again. Afterwards we turn on our sides and I snuggle up to him, my breasts pressed against his back, my knees fitted into the hollows of his drawn up legs.

We rise early the next morning and eat a slow breakfast. I have a small headache but it doesn't matter. Armand says that he has to go away for awhile but that he'll be back about noon. He leaves without kissing me but I know that there is feeling between us. Already it seems as if I have been living with him for days, weeks, months.

I take a bath, do the dishes and wait for him. The sun is warm coming through the window and after tidying the room I sit in a chair letting the light soak into my skin.

Armand brings some beer back with him when he returns. It is hot in the room but the beer is refreshing. We talk for awhile, telling each other something about ourselves. He asks about my husband, whether we had trouble in bed.

I smile. "Not trouble really… but it didn't really mean much to him. It all never lasted more than a few minutes with us. I always felt stranded… you know, wanting it to be something more."

He shakes his head. "That's not good," he says. He looks up. "Have you been with many men?"

"Not as many as you think probably." I laugh. "Jumping into bed like I did with you is something new to me. It really started only with Eric. And that was just one time. Oh there were a few men before I was married boys really but I've been an honest wife until just a few days ago. You don't believe that? No matter. But I did daydream a lot I guess… thinking about how it would be with someone besides Graham – that's my husband – always trying to reach out to find something… that's what I'm doing now I guess."

"And now that you have, are you sorry?"

"No.

"You want to now?"

"Mmm hmm." I laugh again. "In fact I've been thinking about it all morning. I even took a bath so I'd be nice and fresh. It's good with you. Let's work up to it nice and slow again like we did the first time yesterday. I liked it like that."

He smiles. "We have the whole day," he says.

We undress each other. It excites me when he undoes my bra. His hands rest cool for a moment against my breasts, making my nipples stiffen. He pulls my panties down over my hips. I undress him and draw out his warm cock. I press the tip against my stomach, feel a trace of wetness trail against my skin.

We sit cross-legged, facing each other on the mattress. We are both naked now. Armand fondles my breasts. He presses my nipples in gently with his fingers. He moves his hands to my knees, then slides them very slowly up along the insides of my thighs. When the tips of his fingers are but an inch from my pussy, he stops.

"Come on, don't tease," I say laughing. "… not that slowly. Touch me there… feel me." I reach out for his prick. I pump it, make it big. I rub my thumb over the moist, sticky tip.

Armand presses his hand to my cunt, slips a finger between my swollen cunt lips. He kisses my neck, my breasts. He kisses me all the way down the length of my body. My ribs. My stomach. I lie back. He buries his face in my pussy. He eats me. I cum with a shudder as his tongue dips in deep. He draws my clitoris into his mouth. Sucks it. When I cum again he stops eating me and rests his head against my thighs. He runs his finger lightly over the outer folds of my pussy.

My eyes slip open and focus on the heavy thickness of his prick. I want to eat him too. I swing around on the mattress and press my lips to his cock. I stroke it, kiss the tip. The size of it makes my hand seem small. I hear a sudden sound at the door and sit up abruptly. I turn and see a young man and a girl walking across the room toward us. I am startled and embarrassed to be seen naked like this. But Armand just glances up casually at the others and says hello. He keeps rubbing my thighs and cunt.

The young man and girl stand above us. They chat for a minute with Armand. The man is quite tall and slender with longish blond hair that creeps over his shoulders. The girl has a good figure. She is wearing white lipstick. She has attractive features but there is a rather coarse look about her face. I avoid looking directly into their eyes but it excites me strangely to have them standing there while Armand caresses me.