Chapter 18
Asleep!
Bruce was asleep in her arms. His caresses had awakened her body to new responses-and he was asleep!
She tried to draw away, to see him better in the faint light, but even in sleep his grasp on her was firm, gentle but firm.
She was aching with the want of him, her breasts and nipples and pussy all prepared for a wonderful session of lovemaking, of pure, unadulterated sex. And Bruce went to sleep.
It was frustrating. It was exasperating. And then, by the dim night light, she saw his face. It was drawn and tired, even now, as he was relaxing, as the tiredness was seeping away and the lines smoothing. It had been a rough day for him, now that she thought about it.
He had been up the early part of the night before making love to her-and then up the rest of the night with the injured seaman-followed by a full day of work and an evening of exasperation and frustration, attending the wants of a bunch of passengers who could certainly have straightened out their own difficulties if they had to-and being pleasant through it all.
She reached out to smooth the tousled hair on his forehead and heard his soft murmur of her name again. She scrooched back in the berth as far as she could go, leaving him room to sprawl his long, lean body.
There was special tenderness in the way she moved him, just a trifle, so he could relax. She didn't mind the tensions in her own body, the aching want of him. Only that he should be comfortable, should rest for these last few hours, be fresh for the landing tomorrow, smiling at people who didn't really deserve to be smiled at, untangling problems people stupidly created for themselves. Settling disputes with local customs officers over illegible or neglected customs lists. A thousand little duties that must crop up when a great ship like this reached a foreign port.
Jennifer certainly hadn't anticipated anything like this. For her sex would just go on and on-wonderfully exciting, wonderfully stimulating.
But people did tire out. Even Bruce, with his magnificent body. And now it lay beside her, limp, inert and, for sex purposes, totally useless.
She smiled into the dark, thinking about it. She couldn't really believe it herself. And she wondered if others could. If, for instance, Elsie could envision being in bed with Bruce-or any man-and having him fall asleep before-well-before anything happened.
Yet, she knew, it must happen often. In marriage. There would come moments like this, when your partner in the love act was simply too physically beat to be able to start anything --just to fall into a profound sleep. There might even be times when she was too tired for sex; not that she could really accept that.
In marriage! That seemed the key to the situation for Jennifer. In marriage! This should only happen in marriage, in the confines of a legal and restricted union. Not in the free and easy atmosphere of a swinging cruise, where partners in sex played a delightful and apparently endless game.
But it had happened. It had happened with her. Bruce, though thoroughly worn out, had come to her, as he would have come to a legitimate marriage bed. And he had come expecting affection and understanding.
Marriage! It kept drifting back to that. Jennifer resented the idea, but it was true. Bruce treated her as if they were married, as if it were his right to fall asleep beside her, without even making a token gesture of sex.
It also implied trust, she told herself. Trust that she would understand, that she would give him refuge from a world of work and frustration and tribulation and expect nothing but the fact of his love for her. That was the way it would work in a marriage, wasn't it?
And her heart went out to him. She eased herself farther back into the berth to give his long, lean body more room, and felt him stretch out, sighing luxuriously.
Very carefully, so as not to disturb him or awaken him, she eased herself completely around until her back was to his stomach, soaking up warmth and yet not so dangerously aroused. A few more minutes of Bruce with his penis right against her pussy and she might easily have awakened him-in completely feminine ways, of course-so that he would take her, bring her to climax.
That did ease the tension, a little. But Bruce snuggled closer against her, his hand draping over her breast, his mouth and nose practically buried in her hair, so that, with each breath, he riffled the short hairs on her neck.
Eventually, with her tensions eased, Jennifer slept and awakened to sunlight pouring through the porthole and the awakening movements of Bruce as he squirmed and stretched, working his shoulders, moving his legs. And one prodigious yawn.
He sat up suddenly, glancing around and then down at Jennifer. His grin was rueful. "I'm a cad! I'm a scoundrel! I came here last night anticipating a lovely, lovely time for both of us. And I fall asleep, like an oaf. Would you care to kick me?" He leaned over and kissed her nose, just peeking through a tangle of hair. "You were wonderful, not to throw me out."
Jennifer half turned, yawning. She shook her head, making a mock scowl. "Why should I? It was too late to get a replacement. Besides, I like sleeping mashed up in a corner. It's so soothing to the muscles." Jennifer unkinked an arm, flexing her fingers. She moved one leg experimentally and groaned.
Instantly Bruce was massaging her leg, kneading the muscle with fine experience, so that in a moment she felt limp and at ease, smiling at him.
"You're quite nice-looking when you're asleep-and the scowl is eased out. You smile fiercely at all the passengers but you frequently scowl in here. For me."
"It's a special treatment, woman. Known as the Bruce Inverted Effect. And you are the epitome of all womankind. And I adore you for letting me sleep. What's more, I adore kissing your lovely, sleepy mouth... and your ' breasts and..."
Bruce ran his tongue from her throat down to one breast-and instantly the nipple was erect and hardening under the caressing of his tongue. He let one hand take over the pressure on her breast, the soft teasing of her nipple while his tongue traced its way excitingly down her stomach, across her belly-button and on down the crease between legs and stomach.
Jennifer moaned, arching up. Her body was ready for lovemaking, more than ready. It had stored all the want of the night before, all the unconscious knowledge that she slept beside a man. Her legs opened in sensuous enjoyment of his tongue running down the inner side of her thigh and then back up the other, to tease at her pussy, to slide gently across the lips of her vulva, bringing shudders of infinite delight. Sending her hands clutching at his shoulders, pulling him toward her, thrusting his head at her pussy, feeling his tongue slide in and then glide out, to tickle her clitoris, sending hot flashes far up her tunnel.
His hands stretched up to caress her breasts, to glide over her sides, to turn her so that his head was buried between her legs. His body squirmed around, until his pelvis was up by her head, his great penis erect and quivering before her eyes. It looked enormous. The purplish bulb was already sprouting a droplet of glittering fluid and the shaft seemed composed of great blue veins knotted and almost writhing.
There was fascination in seeing it so close. There was even a special odor of maleness about it. She reached for it, closing one hand on his shaft and moving it up and down, bringing more droplets of sparkling juice to the bulb.
Her throat ached with the want of him, with, she gradually came to realize, the desire to taste his penis, to feel it between her lips. Tentatively she slid her head forward, touching the tip with her tongue. The juices tasted salty- and somehow very male.
She formed her lips into an "O" and slid them over the bulb of his penis, feeling it fill her mouth with new excitement, start new fires within her body. And all the time Bruce was cramming his tongue into her pussy, touching and teasing her clitoris, sucking at the juices she knew she was producing.
His hands slid around her, grasping her sides, and turned her, so that she lay on her back. And his body arched over her, his penis aimed straight at her mouth. She held on to it, gently squeezing the shaft as more juices flowed into her mouth. Slowly his body was lowering, until his pelvis and stomach were touching her breasts. He moved his pelvis slightly, gliding his skin over her nipples, and then pressed down harder.
The bulb slid on down her throat, the shaft filling her mouth-and then that, too, slid on down. His balls seemed to press against her nostrils, and she moved them gently so that she at least had a modicum of breathing, though breathing didn't really seem important.
She wanted that bulb and shaft deep in her throat, the bulb spouting juices that tasted of Bruce, that were Bruce. And she wanted every bit of it.
And she wanted to give him every bit of herself. She moved her pelvis so as to push her vulva closer to his mouth and searching tongue. Her hands reached up, grasping either side of his buttocks, and moved him in a gentle rhythm, in and out. Once in a while she thrust him upward and he responded, pulling his penis far enough out so that she could gulp more air and start this wonderful new process all over.
She felt her vulva, and tunnel ready for climax, for those silent, white-hot explosions that meant a satisfactory orgasm, that meant she had achieved a wonderful state of ecstasy. She let go, her tunnel flooding with juice, her pelvis working frantically and thrusting at Bruce.
And his shaft moved faster, then became suddenly stilled just before it drove its deepest down her throat. His bulb exploded. She could feel the pulse of his juices shooting the whole length of his shaft to flood her throat and mouth with hot, salty semen that tasted of Bruce.
Reluctantly she felt his penis deflate and released it, licking at it as it slid from her mouth. Bruce was still licking at her pussy and lapping up her juices. And then they both relaxed, lying side by side but upside down.
Jennifer could see his penis deflate, shriveling from the monstrous shaft to something a little larger than his thumb. She marveled at it. When needed it was a stiffened shaft, engorged and swollen-but for ordinary use it went down, was flaccid and, she suspected, quite manageable within his clothes. And for other uses.
Jennifer giggled, and Bruce swung his legs around and sat up, looking down at her. "And what's this giggling? Did I do something funny?" It was mock severity, but he really wanted to know.
"It's your-thing. It's so-convenient. It shuts up like an umbrella when you don't need it for sex." She giggled again, helplessly, and fell into his arms. "Oh, Bruce! That was wonderful. Absolutely wonderful. I never thought I could... Well, as a matter of fact, I had never thought of it at all. But it is a wonderful experience, isn't it?"
"With you it is, Jennifer. With you. Here's a handkerchief. Wipe your face. You're a pig, you know. A very lovely, very pink and delightful pig-"
Jennifer accepted the handkerchief meekly, then slid out of the berth and trotted to the head. She washed her face and straightened her hair in quick, deft movements, and came back.
She had wet the handkerchief and now she dropped it over his face, still glistening with her juices.
Bruce leapt up, swabbed at his face, and then grabbed her, wrestling her back onto the berth. They fell laughing, their naked bodies still sweaty and gleaming.
"We'll have time for a shower-and double skinny-dip-and then to the landing." He patted her rump, scooting her toward the shower. "And don't forget. Don't take the land tour. It's a gyp. Besides, I have a car waiting."
Jennifer enjoyed the double skinny-dip even more than usual, she thought, because this session of lovemaking had been so sort of spontaneous, so-for her, at least-unexpected.
They played with each other, with the water and soap, and, just when things might have started up again, Bruce switched the water to cold. Which brought a scream and shivers from Jennifer and low, moaning bellows from Bruce.
"It's drastic! But it works. And, I regret to say, we do have things to do."
They came from the shower laughing, rubbing-each other down with almost childish lack of interest in sex. It was just-fun.