First Love

It was scorching hot, summer at the beach in the days when being tanned was the thing and gladly-offered sacrifices to get there included baby oil and sweat dripping from everywhere.

She'd walked out of the surf topless earlier in the day, I had watched her striding towards me up the beach.

I felt, for the first time that I can recall, unbridled lust as she came towards me. A punch in the stomach so strong that had I not already been lying down, I would have doubled over with the power of it. If I had been able to see my own expression, I suspect I was open-mouthed in wonder and awe, licking dry lips, and refusing to blink in case I missed a single movement of her body.

She was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. Long limbed, lean hipped, athletic and strong. She loped in long strides, completely comfortable in her body, her tiny waist flaring into wide shoulders, and perfect breasts that I both envied and admired.

Her mouth widened into a smile when she got closer and could no longer pretend that I wasn't staring at her. Her teeth flashing, her canines adorably crooked, and she cocked her head in amusement as she neared, becoming self conscious under my gaze.

She stood over me then, laughing, shaking the cold salty water out of her hair like a dog, the droplets landing on my heated flesh, I felt them sizzle on my hot skin. I laughed also, she made me happy.

Now we were in a hot room, she was lying on the couch, naked, legs splayed, we had been kissing and touching, forever it seemed. It was too hot for kissing, mouths slippery from sweat and saliva, the heavy humid air making everything languid and slow and wet. Exclamations of "It's too hot for this!" punctuated the sound of breathlessness and sighs, and we would nod to each other and continue.

A cold mandarin straight from the fridge, I placed sections on her body and lick-sucked them off. She stretched luxuriously, making small sounds as the coolness hit her skin. I moved down between her legs, parted them further, she lifted a little towards me and I blew hot breath on her wetness. She sighed. I parted her pussy lips and manoeuvred a slice of cold mandarin to fit snugly between them. She laughed and tried to sit up to look.

"Stop moving," I said.

She stopped, lay back down.

I stroked the mandarin with a fingertip, pressed it more tightly against her, then licked at it, my tongue just touching her lips. She shifted a little. I played my tongue around the fruit, and against her, tasting both. Slipping my tongue between her labia and the cool citrus, one side, then the other, gently grazing her clit with my lips. Trying to use my mouth to envelop the fruit within her labia, make it disappear, the orange against her dusky flesh so pretty. I played my mouth around her until the mandarin was heated by her pussy, was no longer cool.

Then I finally pressed my lips more tightly against her pussy, her hips lifting up to me at the increased pressure, I sucked the entire slice into my mouth. I grinned up at her as the juice slid down my throat. She made a face at me.

I grabbed another section of cool sweet mandarin.

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