Take Me to the River

I rocked my hips, grinding myself against him, wanting more—more motion, more contact, more of this feeling that crashed inside me like the waves from a boat's wake reaching the shore. I wanted it to keep going, I wanted to never stop feeling this good. I groaned against his neck and clung to him tightly while the pulses inside me slowed and gradually subsided.

"Oh my God, oh my God," I said against Paul's neck. "I had no idea—I thought—I thought—" I was panting, unable to make sense of my thoughts or turn them into words.

I'd had orgasms before (I might not have had any experience with men, but I knew how to make myself come) and I'd had powerful ones, but this was different, thrilling in a totally different way. The sensation of his body on mine, the slippery smoothness of his cock against my vulva, sliding together, lubricated by my own arousal—I could never have imagined how good that would feel.

Paul wrapped his arms around me and kissed me hard. He bent his knees and brought us both lower under the water so just our heads were above the surface, and for a long time we just kissed and held onto each other as my breathing and heart rate returned to normal.

I unhooked my legs from behind his waist and slowly let our bodies part. He took my hands, gave me a soft kiss, and we headed for the shore. My whole body buzzed from my orgasm and the thrilling realization I'd been so close to him—so close it felt like we were part of each other. I couldn't imagine feeling more intimate than that, but as we slowly made our way out of the water I looked at his still erect penis and wondered how it would feel to have him actually inside me.

I moved in front of him as he sat on a dry rock, his feet still in the water. I stared at his cock pointing straight up to the sky, and nervously moved myself between his legs. He looked at me as I knelt, pushing his feet apart so I could situate myself comfortably on the rocks beneath the surface. I wasn't sure how good I'd be at this either, but I wanted to try.

I took him in my hand, rested my arms on his thighs, and tentatively brought my mouth to the tip of his penis. I could see him watching me, and I had to close my eyes against his gaze, my nervousness flaring as I wondered how best to approach this—my first ever attempt at a blow job.

I slowly ran my fingers up and down his length while using my tongue over the round head, tasting the river as I did. I remembered a friend of mine telling me how she hated giving her boyfriend blow jobs. She thought it was gross, but her boyfriend went crazy when she did it, he loved it so much. I worried I would hate it too, but when Paul reached down and touched my head and I opened my eyes to see his expression of pleasure and something that might have been admiration, I knew there was no way I could hate this or anything else that made him feel so good.

I continued stroking him slowly and experimented, moving my tongue across and around, moving in circles, licking lightly, then more firmly until I eventually closed my lips over the end and let him enter my mouth. He sighed and I felt a dizzying thrill as the widest part of the head slid past my lips, sliding against my tongue. I curled my tongue around it making a trough for his cock to slide against.

I looked up at him then and he groaned. "That's nice, so nice, Elizabeth."

I drew my head back and continued to experiment more. I found he liked a light touch from my stroking fingers, either up and down the shaft of his penis or trailing lower to cup and stroke his balls. But the more pressure I applied with my lips, the more enthusiastically I sucked him, the more he moaned and twitched in pleasure.

I closed my eyes again and listened to his quick breath, his gasps of praise and delight as his arousal steadily grew. I felt the achy tension inside me and started to wonder again what it would feel like to have his cock inside me. I'd felt it against me, and now on my tongue, but how would it feel if he entered me, if he filled me?

I pulled my head away and pushed myself up, using his thighs to steady myself, and immediately he reached for me, pulling me onto his lap. I straddled him, the rock uncomfortably hard under my knees, and felt his cock nestle against me again. Remembering my orgasm, I shivered excitedly. I wanted to know how it would feel sliding into me, I wanted it bad.

He pulled me toward him and kissed me, his tongue parting my lips and searching for mine. I moved my hips and felt heat spread through me. His breathing was ragged and I could feel his heart being fast in his chest.

"Paul," I said when our lips finally parted. "Will you have sex with me?"

"Aren't we already—" he started to say. "Oh, you mean . . . Elizabeth I don't know. Are you sure?"

I looked him in the eye, wanting him to know without a shadow of a doubt how sure I was.

"I'm sure."

He looked at me a few seconds, conflict on his face, and then he lifted his head to kiss me again.

"Once it's done, it's done."

"I know."

"We can't undo it."

"I know."

"Or decide it didn't happen—not like with your first kiss."

"I know."

He looked me a little longer before he made his decision. Then he reached down to where our bodies met. I rose up a little, giving his hand room. I looked down and watched him angle his penis. I felt the blunt pressure of it on my clit and then felt it sliding back slowly, inching along until the tip nestled against my vaginal opening. I gasped, more out of excitement than anything else, but it made him pause.

"It's your first time, so let's not rush it. Take me inside you, Elizabeth." He moved his hand away, leaving his cock pressing against me. "Take me inside, baby, as slowly as you need."

I looked at him, grateful and scared, thrilled and uncertain. I stared at his cock, poised to enter me, and felt a little panicky—it seemed so very big pressed against me, though I knew it would fit, my body would accept it all, and I wanted to know how that would feel.

I let my legs relax a little, bringing my hips down a fraction of an inch. Immediately a thousand sensations shot through me, crisscrossing and contradicting—pleasure and discomfort, all laced with fear and excitement—but no pain, I noticed.

He looked up at me, one arm braced on the rock, his hand roaming over my thigh and up my hip. He was waiting, giving me time. He smiled, the lines around his mouth and eyes deepening, making his handsome face even more appealing. I tried to smile back, but I shifted, the tangle of sensations moved through me again. I groaned and noticed there was less fear now, and a delightful arousal was swelling where his body began to split mine.

He brought his hand to my breast and gently stroked it. "I can feel you opening up," he said softly.

I closed my eyes for a second, trying to isolate the feeling—the pleasure—and gradually relaxed, letting my body stretch as his cock head pushed inside me. There was a distinct stripe of discomfort just at the entrance, but as I let out the breath I didn't know I'd been holding, I felt the pain lessen.

"Oh God," he said. "You're opening up for me, I can feel your muscles relaxing and letting me go deeper."

He seemed as excited as I was, but he remained perfectly still beneath me, giving me more time to take him inside. His hand moved over my breast, fingers circling my nipple. My body yielded a little at a time, the panicky feeling ebbing away as he moved deeper and deeper inside me.

Before I'd taken him all the way in, I moved myself up and down, my wetness increasing, lessening the intensity of the friction. The pleasure that was concentrated where his cock penetrated me grew steadily more pronounced until it felt like my body was gripping him, holding onto his penis, wanting to keep him inside

"God, you're so exciting, Elizabeth." He seemed a little dazed, but he smiled at me, clearly aroused by the slow movements of my hips.

"Kiss me," he said suddenly, reaching for my face. I leaned and he immediately thrust his tongue between my lips. At the same time his hips moved a little, pushing up against me gently. His cock moved deeper and his tongue swept over mine in a lusty search. I felt full of him, part of him.

He leaned back, pulling me with him so that he was on his back and I was over him, my hands on the rock at either side of his head, my hair hanging down over one shoulder, still wet, but not dripping. His hands covered my breasts and he looked at me with an intense, hungry expression.

"Ride me, Elizabeth. You're still tense inside, I'm afraid I'll hurt you if I move too soon." He ran his hands over my body, making me shiver. "Ride me until you're ready for me to move."

He didn't have to tell me twice. I was moving slowly but steadily, rising up on his cock and down again letting him fill me with each downward motion of my hips. With each movement I held back less, making my descent a little more rapid, a little less careful.

"Oh Paul." I looked down at him, at the sky reflected in his dark eyes and the lines across his forehead, his expectancy and desire, and moaned his name. It came out plea, the vowels held long and stretched into a throaty groan. "Paul, it feels so good."

"Can we shift now? Are you ready?"

I was reluctant to stop, but he looked so eager I couldn't say no. I nodded, not sure he wanted, but not caring provided it felt at least as good as having him fill me did.

He sat up and guided me off his lap, helping me stand. He moved behind me, kissed my shoulder and sighed. "Elizabeth," he whispered. I felt his hand between us, guiding his cock back to my pussy. "It's so exciting being close to you like this."

I tilted my hips when I felt his penis touch me, and leaned back against him, letting him press himself deeper inside me. He groaned and curled his hands around my hip bones, holding me steady as he started to move forward and back, filling me repeatedly.

"Is it alright? You're so tight like this, does it hurt?"

"No, it's—" He lurched forward and I gasped. "Good, so good."

He groaned in agreement, moving a little more quickly. I had no way to balance myself as he rocked behind me. His hands held my hips and my feet were planted firmly against the rocks below, but every quick thrust of his hips made me jump and reach for something to steady myself. He saw me flail and stopped, wrapping his arms around me and breathing fast against my neck.

Without a word, he stepped back, letting our bodies divide, and took my hand, leading me back into the water. He stopped at a large rock that was almost perfectly round and dappled with sunlight, the water reaching half way up its round belly, and to just above Paul's knees. He turned me toward it gently, positioned himself, and buried his cock inside me again.

Immediately, I fell forward slightly, catching myself on the rock. My slight forward bend changed the angle of his entrance, making both of us groan. He felt deeper, bigger, more urgent, and my muscles held him tight, my whole body pulsing with arousal.

He pushed forward and drew back again and again, growing frantic at times, then forcing himself to slow and gain control again. I took it all—thrilled by the sudden jolt of fullness when his thrusts took him deep, the sound of his ragged breathing, and his hands moving over me, sometimes gently, sometimes with desperate roughness.

I turned to look over my shoulder at him. Light danced on his skin, reflected from the surface of the water where it churned and rocked. His head was bent forward, his hair falling over his face, and I could see his intense concentration and how much pleasure he felt from fucking me this way.

I moved my hand down between my legs, still watching him, and touched my clit. He lifted his head, unaware I'd been watching him, and made a noise like a groan, an exhale, and a laugh all in one. He pulled at my hips, drawing me toward him as he thrust, and the smile that spread across his face made me shiver to my toes.

I stroked myself, delighted to find my own arousal growing again, spurred by his quick thrusts, his body meeting mine, and the sounds of his breath and the water slapping at the rocks around us. I tilted my hips and everything intensified. Paul groaned behind me, suddenly putting more effort into his thrusts.

Soon we were both breathing fast, and I could tell I would come again. I bent my back experimentally, noticing the subtle differences in where and how his thrusts touched me as I changed the angle of my hips. I found a position, with my back arched, where his forward motions and my diligent stroking increased the pleasure in sudden swells, one after another, until I felt squeezed so tight I worried we'd pass through pleasure into pain. I felt full, ready to spill over, ready to crash.

I started to babble as my skin tingled and my toes curled against the slippery rock surface beneath me.

"Don't stop, don't stop, don't stop." I pushed against the rock and closed my eyes. "Fuck, that's going to make me come. Don't stop, Paul."

I let my head drop down, my hair dangling over the water and found the spot that brought me full to the brim. I gasped and felt it begin to spill through me, crashing like a bucket of water being emptied all at once. I shook, surprised by how strong the pulse was at the entrance to my vagina, at the spot where Paul's cock stretched me wide. I felt it there most keenly, squeezing hard, then moving through me in weaker and weaker pulses.

And I cried out, my voice bounced off the rocks and back at me, sharp and desperate. I made no sense, just noise. Behind me Paul answered in grunts, straining and breathing hard. I turned again, to look over my shoulder at him. His eyes were wide beneath a twisted brow and his mouth was open as he panted.

"I'm going to come too," he breathed, repeating it a dozen times, his voice soft and urgent. "I'm going to come, Elizabeth."

I pushed back against him, my hands on the rock in front of me, my torso slightly lower than my hips, bracing myself, but also offering myself to him, giving him permission to fuck me any way he needed.

He shifted his hands, grasping me tighter at the hip, and thrust a little harder a dozen times, his voice close to a whine of frustration, before he pulled out rapidly, taking his cock in his hand. He still held me with one hand, his fingers digging in, pressed hard against my hip bone, while he pumped himself in the fist of his other hand. He looked at me as he stroked himself and I saw his lips form my name, his face twisting even more into a look of agony.

I gasped, still watching over my shoulder, and he groaned his pleasure from deep in his throat. Then his hips stopped moving, his hand slid faster still, in shorter strokes, and I watched semen erupt from his cock in a long, thick white strand. He closed his eyes, grimacing, and groaned again, this time in a higher register, as another thick rope of cum shot from his cock, stretching across my back. The sight was mesmerizing, his tortured expression, his suddenly short and concentrated strokes, and the volume of cum that he emptied onto my body.

His groans became low noises of pleasure until his hand stopped moving and he looked down at me, his face flushed, sweat on his brow, his chest rising and falling fast. He reached for my hand and pulled me toward him, crushing me to his chest. He kissed me hard. I felt the sweat on his face and the hammering of his heart as he held me close. He slowly walked backward, bringing us both back into the water again.

"Oh my God," he said after a few breathy kisses. "You turn me on so much. I came so hard, I thought I was going to pass out." He kissed my face and ran his hands over my back. "I made a mess back there, I'm sorry."

I shook my head, a little embarrassed to admit it. "It was exciting to watch you."

He smiled and for another minute or two, we held onto each other in the water and kissed. We slowly made our way back to the shore to retrieve our suits before we swam back to the other side again. He gave me his back on this trip too, and I pressed close to him, wrapping my legs around his waist as he pulled us along.

As we walked back up the path, making our way slowly, I thought about everything that had happened and of how far beyond my imaginings it had been. The level of pleasure I'd felt made all my past fantasies seem pale and washed out.

He stopped before we reached the trail head and turned to look at me. I stopped and looked back, my shyness creeping in under the intensity of his gaze, making me want to look away.

"Thanks for showing me the path," he said. A knowing smile slowly stretched his mouth. "Thanks for coming along with me."

"You're welcome," I mumbled, looking away out of embarrassment.

He leaned forward, angling his head and kissed the cheek I had turned toward him. When I turned to look at him, he kissed me on the mouth. And though my arousal flared again, I only kissed him back gently. It was a soft kiss that felt like a seal, like closure on the events of the afternoon.

He smiled again as he straightened, and then turned and worked his way to the top of the rise where the trees ended at the edge of my parents' property. We walked toward the house without speaking, sweating soon after we left the cover of the trees. I followed behind him, my insides churning in a mix of delight and disbelief.

We parted when we reached the cottage. He stopped and I could feel him watching as I walked toward my house.

"It's supposed to be hot again tomorrow," he said just before I got to the porch. His voice was normal, the same voice he'd use to talk to my parents. "Get your work done early, we can go swimming again."

He made a little wave and turned away toward the door of the cottage. I watched him enter and close the door behind him, my body tingling with arousal and an achy tiredness, as if I'd been exercising hard. I shivered with delight and realized everything was different now. Everything was different and this was indeed my summer.