© 2000 Mike Kimera Do not reproduce without permission email@example.com
“When you tell yourself the story of your life, is it a book or a movie?”
No fair. How am I supposed to concentrate on questions like that just after I’ve come? I want to lie back and enjoy the warm glow; maybe nap a little. Of course, with Helena, that is out of the question. She is resting her head on my belly, apparently fascinated by my now limp and sated cock, which she is playing with like a bendy toy.
“Huh?” I answer, displaying my Cambridge education to the full.
“Are you a ‘I was born on a dark and stormy night’ sort of guy?” she says, moving her head further down my belly.
“You know, linear memories bound by the three unities of time space and action.” As she names each unity her finger and thumb test the degree of elasticity of my foreskin by way of emphasis.
“Or do you visualise your life in flashbacks, freeze-frames and fantasy sequences?” Helena lets the back of my cock rest on her cheek as she laves my post-coital stickiness with her tongue.
“Er, I don’t know” I say, completely distracted.
“How…” a pause while she sucks most of my, now rather less limp, cock into her mouth. She turns her head to face me, nimbly avoiding twisting my flesh beyond return despite the continuous suction. Looking me in the eyes, she pulls me from her mouth, as if removing a lollipop, in order to speak, “…can you not know?”
One elbow is now between my legs. Resting her chin on her hand, she places the tip of my penis on her large closed lips and raised one eyebrow in playful interrogation.
Enough. I am awake now and I’m not going to take this lying down; I need to be kneeling. But Helena has me in the palm of her hand. Before I can act I have to find a way to make her let go.
In her progress down my belly, Helena has insinuated her body closer to mine. Her breasts are pressed against my thigh. Her hips are flat to the bed with one thigh snuggled in to my ribs. Her legs are parted just enough to display my cum oozing out of her. I know an invitation when I see one.
“Well books are difficult.” I say. Her eyes watch my hand rest on her buttock then caress the curved edge, fingers gently moving slowly into the dark recess. She slides her tongue under the length of my cock and presses her thigh closer to me.
“You find them inherently problematic?” she asks, as if we were discussing this in a seminar group.
The palm of my hand is now on her inner thigh, the fingers placing gentle pressure on soft skin below the labia. She opens her legs further and waits.
“I never know whether to say ‘Mark’s fingers pushed insistently into the cum-slickened centre of Helena’s sex’ or ‘My fingers and thumb clamp on to your pubis from inside and out, the fingers buried in your warm wet folds, the thumb torturing the erect nub of your sex’ Tense is so important. Point of view is critical. Don’t you agree?”
“Oh yes” Helena says, releasing my cock and rolling on to her back. “From my point of view it is vital to find the perfect tense.”
I bend both fingers inside her, exploring the ridged flesh, relishing the touch of her muscles, eager and enticing. Trying not to break my rhythm, I move around the anchor of my hand until I am kneeling between Helena’s legs.
“Movies can be so much more immediate.” I say. “You know the kind of thing: scene opens with extreme close up, side view, of woman’s slender fingers caressing her own breast. Nipple is very erect. Male mouth lowers. Tongue extends, touches nipple. Low groan (female) is heard. Man’s mouth closes over entire nipple”.
Helena allows me to play director and throws herself into her role with enthusiasm, emit a low throaty sound that stiffens me. We improvise the dialogue-free action scene for a while, my mouth and her breast questing for ways to do something new with form but always returning to the traditional suck and bite formula, cliched yet effective.
Alas a director’s work is never done. My body is telling me that it’s time to move towards the denouement, or do I mean climax?
“Yep. It would have to be a movie.” I say, sitting back on my heels, my hands sliding under Helena’s buttocks.
“I particularly like sequels” I say moving her ass up my thighs and letting her wrap her legs about my waist.
“How’s about ‘American Beauty 2: the second coming’?” Helena suggests “with me covered in rose petals”.
“Sod art” I say, pushing into her. “Let’s do a porno: ‘Helena takes it all – again’ ”
I bring her legs from behind me to rest on my shoulder, both ankles held in one hand. The serious work is about to begin.
“OK big boy” she laughs “Run VT”.