Chapter 7
Once safely in their own house, Gwen and Pete ran up to the bedroom. They didn't stop to turn on any lights. Up the dark stairs, along the hall, to the bedroom they went, desire raging inside them.
In the bedroom, Pete said thickly, "Hurry up, Gwen. Hurry-"
He was ripping off his clothes. She unfastened her dress, hung it up neatly, her hands shaking. Tonight tonight tonight, she thought dazedly. No more walls between them. No more coldness.
Pete was undressed first. Instead of lying down, he came over to her.
"You're so slow," he growled, with mock anger. His hands caught hold of the elastic band of her panty-girdle and he began drawing it down over her thighs. She was struggling with a brassiere clasp, and was helpless to stop him.
She felt cool air strike her warm, wet thighs. His hands caressed her naked buttocks. Then he pulled the girdle lower over her knees, down her legs. She stepped out of it, stumbling as her foot caught.
Pete held her legs, kneeling before her. His hot face pressed unexpectedly against her thighs. She gasped aloud as he kissed her intimately. He had never done this before.
"Pete Pete!"
"Honey honey-sweet," he answered. His big hands cupped her buttocks and squeezed them hard. She was melting away in liquid fire as he kissed her.
The brassiere clasp finally gave way. She let the garment fall from her shoulders, and flung it away in the darkness. She held Pete's head to steady herself as he kept on kissing her. Her fingers gripped his curly hair savagely.
She did not know herself. She felt more alive and vital than at any time in her life before. She was a ferocious tigress wanting her mate. She wanted him to be fierce and demanding with her.
He seemed to sense her need. He stood up and pulled her to the bed. She felt across the bed sideways. He caught her ankles in his hands and drew her legs apart. Then he came up on the bed and loomed over her, a dark shadow in the dimness.
His heat covered her. His hard flesh penetrated hers. This time it was welcome. He slid smoothly into her softness, and it didn't hurt. The hardness met softness and became harder and bigger as it went. Smoothly sliding up and in, high and far farther high tight, oh, tight, tight and good and high-
He lay on her and his mouth bit at her breasts. Her full pears of breasts were bitten and kissed and licked, and he was inside her and part of her, and it was so marvelous. She moaned and stretched herself to take him more and more. Her legs went up into the air, pointing at the ceiling, feet curling in ecstasy as he drove in again and again.
No pain tonight, no waiting in agony for torture to be over.
Sweetness, hotness, fiery balls, stars and shooting comets of flame and crying out in the night, and holding, hugging, wanting more and getting more much more-
She hit the peak of ecstasy and her insides throbbed madly. Pete stayed on her, and when the quivering subsided, he drove again, again until she shook and cried out once more.
Twice she was in climax, and then again a third time, before Pete relaxed, fell over her, and let his own passion blend with hers in spurting release.
Now she felt one with him as the shooting liquid sprayed deep inside, and her husband spent his force with all his masculine intensity. It was good, so very good, she could have cried with delight. Tears did come to her eyes, and rolled down her cheeks. She was so happy, so relieved and spent and relaxed.
He finally rolled off and lay still, taking deep gasping breaths. Gwen lay limp, arms and legs sprawled.
Pete laughed softly. Gwen finally stirred, and put one hand on his warm chest. "What?" she asked.
"Us. Sleeping apart. All the time we could have been doing this." He rolled over on his side and put a big hand boldly between her wet thighs.
"Oh, yes. Weren't we silly?" She was still gasping for breath. His hand was caressing her lovingly, daringly. She knew he would want her again soon, but tonight that thought didn't make her cringe. It made her happy and excited!
"Silly. I was stupid. Not knowing how to get you excited." He was panting, his chest heaving after his exertions. His hard finger touched the knob of her clitoris and played a moment with the sensitive button.
"Ooooh," she said. "Ooooh honey I'll go right off-"
"Then I'll slow down," he said, and they laughed with delight at their new-found knowledge. "You know, it was the smartest thing we could have done, moving out here, getting in with the gang.
I've learned more about sex in the past couple weeks than I ever did in my life."
She was suddenly silent, her pleasure abruptly marred by the memory of Pete and Karen in the yard, lying naked in the moonlight.
Pete stroked her belly, his hand cupping the smooth curves of her low body.
"You know, honey, I love you so much," he said softly. "It didn't mean to hurt you when I web I didn't know I was hurting you. I was a dope. Never realized a girl had to be warmed up first."
She drew closer to him, relieved. "I love you too, Pete," she murmured. "I wanted to make you happy, but I didn't know how."
"We were both inexperienced when we got married," he said, thoughtfully. He drew her to his body so her curves cuddled into his hardness. She snuggled to meet him, contented. "This gang they really know the score. We needed this sort of an education. You know what I mean?"
"Urn. Knowing what to do. Learning how to like this."
"That's it. Education in sex and life. Life is a good part sex. You really have to enjoy sex and get plenty of it if you want to enjoy life."
She frowned a little against his shoulder. Whose philosophy was that? Karen's? For a minute she resented the fact that his "education in sex" had been learned from such a teacher as the red-haired woman. Yet Pete had returned to
Gwen. He said he loved her. He was using his "education" to bring her delight and ecstasy.
"We were pretty green, you have to admit," said Pete happily. "Luckiest thing that could have happened, for us to meet this gang."
"Yes, lucky. Of course-" Gwen paused, wording her warning with caution. "We we don't want to get too involved with them. I mean having sex with them, and all that," she added, with fake casualness.
Silence. Pete's chest was moving up and down under her cheek. Was it her imagination, or did his heart beat faster? She waited anxiously for his answer.
"We're not under any obligation," Pete said finally. "Of course, we should have the gang over here when our turn comes. Stock plenty of liquor."
"Yes. Sure," said Gwen. He had not really answered her. Did he mean to keep playing with Karen and Barbara and the others? Did he mean for Gwen to let Don and Larry really make love to her? Somehow she couldn't ask him, because she dreaded his answer. He might say yes, he wanted her to have experiences and receive more "education" in sex.
Pete stretched. Movement rippled through his long lean body, so close to hers.
"Yep, it's a good thing we moved here. Well never be bored," he said. "Hey honey honey do you feel like more?" His hand patted her flank.
He had changed, she thought. In the early days of their marriage, he wouldn't have asked. He would have grabbed and taken. But the experiences with other women had made him more considerate. Gwen decided bravely that she should be grateful to the other women, not jealous of them.
"Yes, I want more," she said.
Pete chuckled with pleasure. "Then more you shall get!" He rose up and bent over her.
She lay on her back to receive him. He kissed her and teased her, petting her with his hands.
"So you want more," he kidded happily. "And you'd get lots more. But in good time. First I have to kiss here and here-" He trailed kisses over her neck and shoulders, down one arm. It tickled. Besides, she was hot and ready. She squirmed and lifted her hips pleadingly.
"Honey, Pete, don't fool around! I'm ready," she panted. Her legs were apart, her knees clasped his lean thighs. She kept raising herself, trying to capture his hard instrument. He deftly evaded her.
"No, I want to kiss you first. like this and this right here-" He caught a nipple in his mouth and bit it with hard teeth. She wiggled. He pulled her breast upward, and the swollen burgeoning breast ached with her desire.
He teased her with caressing hands that stroked her waist and thighs. His fingers tickled her sides.
She jerked and begged him breathlessly to stop. He only laughed.
She felt warm liquid gathering at her thighs. She was so ready she could have raped him. But she couldn't reach the masculine instrument because he kept it just out of her reach.
He nuzzled his face against her breast. His chin was scratchy against her soft silkiness.
"Do you want me?" he whispered. "Do you really want me?"
"Oh, yes oh, yes, please, Pete-" she begged.
He laughed, pleased. He kept holding off. In desperation she grabbed with one hand. She found his hardness and pressed it to her. To her relief he came. He let her insert the point.
"Ah, ah," she breathed, lying back.
He pulled out.
"Oh, Pete please! Honey, darling, sweetheart ! "
He gave in and settled down on her. With delight, she felt the hard point penetrating her liquid flesh. In and in and in, a smooth high stroke, up to the limit. Then beyond and far beyond. And up high he touched the quivering fragile womb itself.
They lay in silence together, tightly clasped. He was deep in her, close, dght, big and swollen and wonderful in her. She lay with eyes tight shut, savoring the delicious ecstasy of this time of oneness with him. With Pete in her arms, so close and tight in her, she couldn't believe anyone could ever separate them. He belonged to her, she belonged to him, they belonged to each other.
Pete began a slow rolling motion, infinitely delectable. She responded with her hips in a moving, quivering wiggle. They moved in experimental little motions to increase pleasure. The movements became larger and longer and wilder, until Pete was thrusting in long in-and-out strokes that seemed to pierce her to the heart.
Ecstasy burst in her. Her hips trembled with the force of it. She half blanked-out as something inside her squeezed, released, squeezed, released, over and over. Pete thrust in a long, slow, final movement, deep to the walls of her, and lay still while liquid burst from him. She felt him tremble with the forces driving him, and she held him close with weak, tired arms and legs till it was over.
They slept in each other's arms, worn out with their exertions. Toward morning, Gwen wakened when a cool wind struck her naked body. She drew up a sheet to cover them both, then paused to gaze frankly with pleasure at the body of her sleeping husband.
He was long and lean and tan. His black curly hair framed his oval tanned face. Long black lashes covered his eyes.
"I want a baby just like him," Gwen thought, and blushed to herself. But she did want a son. Just like Pete. With' Pete's face and eyes and strong hands.
Her gaze roved over him possessively. His chest was wide and covered with tight curly black hairs to his waist. His thighs were lean and hard, and she knew the force of them from experience. Tenderly she gazed at the object, now limp, that had given her so much pleasure a few hours before. It was so big and bold and hard when he wanted her. Her fingers touched it very gently, and it began to rise in her hand.
Pete stirred, and wakened, his eyes blinking with sleep. He caught her gazing at him, and his sleepiness vanished abruptly.
"Hey there, wife," he said.
"Hey there," she answered. She knew her face was fiery red. She boldly cupped the object of her desires and squeezed with gentle fingers. It was growing bigger fast.
Pete smiled up at her, his black eyes knowing.
"You're getting to be a smart little wife," he said.
"I know what I like," said Gwen.
He laughed. "Then climb aboard," he invited.
She hesitated.
"Come on," he urged.
Awkwardly, she climbed on, and he helped her seat herself on him. Then he gave her a rocking-chair ride right up to heaven.
As they played and laughed and enjoyed each other, Gwen thought how foolish she had been to worry about the suburban gang. They were smart. They knew all about life and sex. This was really living. She rocked harder, and laughed down into Pete's sparkling black eyes.