#306) Second Virginity (or Third or…)

I don’t think I’ve been this nervous since I can recall. It was probably back when I went through similar rites of passage, when I lost my virginity and lost my hymen, more importantly was when I lost my spanking virginity and found my entire hind-end was erogenous, or when I gave up my anal virginity, and now this…
We sit on her bed, holding hands, holding eye contact, both naked, both shivering slightly though we are warm and safe and happy.
“You are so fair…” I understate, brushing her red hair off her pale shoulder. She smiles, demure to the point of shy, complex to the point of unfathomable, so erotic it’s off the charts.
“I actually get a lot of sun, just always wear a lot of sunblock,” she says by way of elucidation, though there is not a single freckle on her, nor a pimple. Unblemished like marble that seems to glow from within.
“You are so feminine…” I compliment, and kiss a pink nipple. It enlarges and hardens in my mouth. It is the first nipple I’ve suckled since my mom’s. This time it nurtures my need and nourishes my libido. I am filled with unquenchable want and incendiary desire. I plant butterfly kisses from her sternum downward, frenching her belly button, downward, it’s clear my destination.
“When you get to know me… you’ll know I’m something of a tom boy.”
Corrected, I keep kissing. I’m at the upper edge of her muff, a cloud of orange cotton candy-like pubes. They are spun sugar, beyond saccharine, mouth-watering
“You smell…sweet…” I whisper, suddenly short of breath, panting, all worked-up.
“Just wait ‘til you smell my sweat. Catch me if you can…”
And Julie is gone, having run out of her room, out of her house, into the backyard, across the freshly mown lawn. I give chase, earnestly trying to recapture her, while I am bewitched by bobbling boobies and beguiled by bouncing buttocks. Julie is fleet of foot, but I am faster. I hunt her like a cheetah would a gazelle, sprinting, hungry to the state of ravenous. I paw at her heel, connect, send her tumbling, dive on top of her. The cheetah in me goes for her throat, doesn’t bite down on her jugular, just sucks, licks, devours. My hand finds her pussy’s lips, finger her, penetrate here, hold her down.
I do now smell her sweat, smell the grass that clings to her sheen, smell her vaginal scent. Julie sees that I have her, knows that I desire her, understands that I smell her and need to taste. We are no longer two creatures in tableau, shivering from anticipation. We are two beasts in heat, rutting and randy. I press my mouth to her lower lips, kiss her there, then lick. My mouth-music on her pudendum precludes me from quoting a favorite e. e. cummings poem, a piece that starts
“my naked lady framed
in twilight is an accident
whose niceness betters easily the intent
of genius –”
and it ends
“Eat the price
of an imaginable gesture
exact warm unholy”
Julie becomes my lover and I hers. Words cannot express any more…

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