Too Much Too Good

I am standing in the back aisles of the library, looking down at a soft head of flowing black hair moving back and forth, back and forth. Bright red lips are attached in a circle around my penis, which is disappearing into a warm mouth and then reemerging again as the mouth is drawn back to rush along the length of my shaft. My vision is slightly blurred, blackness swimming along the edges of my perception. The face of the girl is circular, friendly, soft – lightly tanned with a single bead of sweat running along her brow as she works. Her eyes, vivid piercing green and hot, are focused determined on her task, like she were working on some kind of home appliance with the greatest degree of sincerity and care.

I think: my god, what I have done to deserve this?

I can hardly think, with the girl slipping the length of my cock into her mouth, catching the super-sensitive underside on her warm tongue, closing her lips around the circumference of my shaft firmly. I am dizzy, swooning in the heat of the library stacks and from the incredible pleasure of this little lipstick mouth laying kisses and sucking resolutely on the sensitive tip of my penis. I brace myself against one of the towers of books as I feel my thighs begin to quake, my knees wobbling unsteadily as she sucks on the tip of my dickhead like a thick straw. My eye catches a title on the shelf about medieval knights and chivalry. I think of how I've always tried to be her knight in shining armor, even when she didn't know who I was. How I try to do everything to protect her. And this is her thanks – giving me more than I could ever imagine returning, taking my rock-hard flesh between her lips and sucking deeply, like a wet vacuum, sending little shivers and trembles up the length of my body, making my hamstrings quake unsteadily again.

"Aw," she says, putting one hand up on my stomach, looking up at me, plucking my cock from her mouth, holding it in her soft hand at its base. "Are you okay?"

Looking up at me, her eyes are ablaze, deeply alluring, holding my own gaze captive in hers – me completely unable to look away, even if I desired to. It was more than bewitching, more than hypnotizing – it was possessing, she owning me, me owning her, neither of us wanting anything in all the Great Everything but the other.

I breathe. Breathe, I say to myself. Simple to do, really. Breathe.

"Yeah," I say, my vividly dirty imagination churning. "I think so."

"Too fast, baby?" she asks, her thumb and index finger in a ring around the base of my shaft, squeezing tightly, my breath catching in my throat. She plants a firm kiss on the head of my penis.

"No," I breathe. I can barely speak.

"It feels good though?" she asks, and dips her head down to take my right testicle in her hot mouth, swirling it around with her tongue, her hand running up and down the length of my penis. "Right?"

My legs open instinctively to allow her head access. I drop my head back in ecstasy.

"Yeah, sweetie," I manage, holding a strand of her soft black hair in my fingers and twirling it gently and absently, overcome by her ministrations. "It feels good."

She smiles mischievously, knowing her power, knowing full well exactly what she is making me feel. She does the testicle trick again and I can't help from letting out a groan, my right hand white-knuckling on the book stack. She reaches her other hand up and presses her thumb firmly against my perineum, kneading the tightened flesh with her nimble digit.

"Oh God," I gasp, unable to hold back.

Her unearthly ministrations make me emotional, trigger something deeper within me. I want to do anything for her, anything to prove myself more worthy of her soft mouth and gentle voice and radiant-beautiful eyes. There is nothing I do not want to do to her body. I want to fill her in every way – fill her spirit with my love, fill her every orifice with my thick length. Whatever will make her feel even half of what I feel now.

She is fresh and flushed from having gone for a run, wearing shin-length Capri tie-dyed tights that conform and accentuate her slim little curves. I feel her lithe body with my hands, greedy to have her and to spoil her and take her all in, to touch every inch of her, to make her a part of me. She gives me a cute little pixie grin of a smile that melts me, flashing a pair of white teeth, showcasing the sheen of wet on her upper lip that glints suggestively in the halflight of the far library stacks.

She leads my cock back to her lips by grabbing my balls firmly but gently and pulling the whole sack towards her. My eyes roll to the back of my head in ecstasy as my shaft is reenveloped by her hot and wet sucking lips. Beneath my touch her body is hard, tight, warm. I greedily touch every part of her I can, running my fingers along the edge of her neck where a blue vein pulses healthily in rhythm and tune with her breathing.

I think briefly back to how I came to be here – to the run in the park three weeks ago where I first met her, lying flat on her back across a remote trail, palefaced and breathing shallowly, her running shoes untied, collapsed from dehydration. I picked her up and ran with her back to the parking lot and forced lukewarm water down her throat. She came to immediately and refused to let me call an ambulance. I had 911 dialed and had my finger over send when she put her hand over mine and shut the phone and then kissed me on the cheek. She was hot and moist from sweat when she pressed against the side of my face. I reached up and brushed a strip of mud from just beneath her eye and called 911 anyway.

That night she came to my apartment wearing a little blue slip and with her hair tied back in an adorable little ponytail. She told me a few days later that she forced her nurse at the hospital to break protocol and give her my personal information. At first she was nervous, embarrassed, apologizing. We sat at the kitchen table across from each other – her soft hand nervously held out for me to hold. I kept bringing her glasses of cold water and apologizing right back to her for the poor air-conditioning in the building and talking nonsense about she had to be careful with the humidity and the heat and other irrelevancies.

At midnight exactly she excused herself.

"I better see you again," I said.

"You want to?" she asked, genuinely surprised.

"Is that a question?"

She kissed me on the nose and left. Ten minutes later she knocked on the door and we locked lips immediately. Eventually she made me lie down on the couch and gave me, with her mouth alone, the most explosive orgasm I'd ever had.

The memory passes over me as I am standing there clutching the shelves in the library stacks and I give an enthusiastic buck of my hips. I don't mean to jam my cock down her throat, her sweet delicate soft throat but god she is sending me into spasms of rapturous ecstasy and its all I can do to grip the cold metal beneath "The Role of Medieval Women in Dark Age Politics" and think of mud or men or something nonerotic so that my soul doesn't physically burst out from my body.

She must have felt my yearning and burning growing uncontrollable for she slowly plucked my penis from her mouth and stood up. I take her by her little hips from behind and crush my hard dick against the warm muscle of her buttocks straining against the fabric of her tie-dye Capri-length tights. She twitches her ass slightly as she feels what I'm doing; exploiting her body, rudely manipulating it for my own deviant pleasures. But she is so compliant, so willing, so heartbreakingly submissive, it's impossible to resist the temptation of humping the flesh of her butt through her pants. I reach a hand up and under her crotch, between her legs, and run my fingers along the now-wet fabric. There is a tiny hole in her tights that I fingered her through a few days ago, and I probe for it, she throwing her hot head back onto my shoulder and giving little moans, me working her sensitive parts with my fingers. My middle finger gains access to the hole and slides neatly through the fabric and in between her labia. Not only is she wet, but she's so warm; it feels like sticking my finger into a freshly roasted turkey.

I plunge the finger in to the hilt of my knuckle, my cock jealous of my finger, my finger probing and wiggling around in her insides. I use the leverage of my hand between her legs to pull her up closely against me so that she is leaning back, her chest heaving, my hand guiding her body against me, my other hand reaching under her tanktop and exploring the warm flesh of her abdomen and chest. I feel her hips working against my finger, her hard little ass brushing my raging boner.

With my ring finger I spread open the tear in her tights slightly wider and force the second finger through her pants and up her vagina. With the two fingers firmly and flush, buried inside of her, I do the "c'mere" motion, flexing my fingers quickly back and forth and causing her to buck wildly against me, her strong little hand squeezing my shoulder painfully tight and her nails digging into my skin.

"Keep doing that, baby," she whispers. "Keep doing that."

So I kept doing the "c'mere" motion, her spasming violently on my fingers, her hips rolling into my hand, me holding her side firmly with my other hand. She grinds down harder, but runs out of real estate – my fingers are only so long.

"Oh baby," she hushes again.

"You okay?" I ask her between breaths.

She turns her sweaty head slightly and takes my earlobe between her teeth.

"Keep moving your fingers," she says, barely audible. I increase the tempo. "Harder."

I watch her eyes as I work, my body on fire with raging lust as I see her very sincere look of determination as I probe her depths, moving my fingers violently within her, watching her eyes widen when I hit the right spot, feeling her vagina tighten around me with occasional spasms and sending electricity up through her little body with a shiver. When I slow slightly to rest my cramping hand she moans and croons until I am so turned on that I can feel no discomfort and know no need other than satisfying her every yearning.

Very suddenly I yank my fingers out, get a grip on the fabric of her tights, and tear it open wider. Then I shove her rudely against the library stack, bend her over, and get a good grip on her supple left leg before lifting it up and to the side. I line up my dickhead with the edge of the hole in her tights, feeling her labia on my tip. Then I wait.

She turns to me, face red with exertion, black hair stuck to the side of her cheek, pretty eyes heavy with lust.

"Please," she moans, trying to twist her hips to take me in. "Just do – "

Without waiting a moment, I rotate my hips, hard, and penetrate her to the core. Shivers of ecstasy run through my body as her tight walls engulf my thickly engorged and veiny member. I hold her side and her leg tight as I pause for a moment, feeling complete and at home, wiggling my hips and turning my cock around inside of her to explore the inner workings of her hot and wet core. Then I withdraw my spear and feel her walls rush along me as I do, and try to catch myself to hold back, but I am unable.

With a growl, I begin ramming my rod hard into her pussy without avail. It feels so good to let my member slip inside of her, lose part of myself in the inner sanctum of her ministrations and loving caresses, allow this otherworldly thing to milk my sensitive rod in a thousand ways. Every piece of my dick is stimulated, all of it rubbing hard against something wet and hot and smooth and soft.

When she begins to work her hips back and forth and twist my cock in different directions while within her pussy grip, I begin to feel out of control. I can do nothing but offer my cock to this girl, fuck her as good as I can, attempt to repay her in whatever small way for the ecstasy she is giving me and my body.

I feel nothing but love for her – some kind of lust is there too, but it is swallowed, is only a small part of, the throbbing emotion in my chest, the instinct to protect and hold tight the little beauty that wants to take care of me just as much as I want to take care of her. We slip down and collapse against the wall of the library, in each other's arms. Untold revelations stream through my mind, the world spinning on some celestial axis in some unknown way that I've never seen – nothing else mattering but here (thrust), now (thrust again), me (dick buried inside her, my hips rotating to stimulate her from all angles, touch every part of her opening), and you (shift her so that her lovetunnel is being as deeply penetrated as possible, the tip of my dick tickling her cervix). Everything suddenly makes sense – I know in an instant that this is the most elemental reason for everything I've ever done in my entire life – to feel this and to know this right here and right now.

She clambers over on top of me, squatting over my crotch, and takes my dick in her hands gently. She holds it back so its sticking straight up, and then puts it between her legs. I give out a groan again as I am nestled again by her warm folds. Then she puts her hands on my chest and, on the balls of her feet, begins popping up and down, up and down, with a rhythm and a speed that blows my mind. Her vagina jerks my cock, slides up and down, squeezes at intervals.

I rip her breasts from her shirt and hold onto them, taking a teat into my mouth and suckling, making her moan louder, this girlish aroused cry which incites me to pump my dick harder back up into her pussy which pops up and down like a machine over my man meat.

With a growl I flip us over and begin humping her with abandon, restraining nothing, hitting the pussy as hard as I can. She begins to shake and quake beneath me – her body slick against mine, her eyes wide, her hands on my buttocks and pushing me in deeper with every thrust. "I'm gonna come," she says, her hands in a vise-like grip around my neck.

I tuck my hands under her buttocks, fully inserted, feeling her vagina encircling tight in a ring around the base of my penis. We grind hard into one another and her body begins to wildly undulate into my mine, her voice shaking as she cries out. I hold on with her spasming pussy and give out an inhuman growl as I unleash the first string of an ecstatic load deep between her legs. Her bucking body draws several more loads out, me twisting above her like a man stricken by Epilepsy, my body violently contracting to deliver the girl all the semen she had built up within me.

Then I collapse to the floor and weakly guide her over me so that she is lying flat on my chest, my spent dick still hard inside of her.

"It's just friction," she says after a time, nuzzling her head into the crook of neck.

"What?"

"I mean that's all it is," she says again. "Just friction. No more. In the end that's all it is."

I sit there, wordless for a while, her trembling and shivering little body calming itself in my arms, me planting a little kiss on her sweaty forehead and holding her tighter like she was the only thing on Earth I knew.

"It's not just friction," I finally say. "It's our love. It's the physical manifestation of our love."

She laughs – the movement causes her body to contract and I feel her vaginal muscles tighten around my halfhard cock.

"Still," she says, titling her mouth up to be kissed, "I don't need it. We don't need it. Not when we have everything else."

"No," I say, her warm red lip in my mouth, titling up my hips to stimulate her with my now hard penis, causing her to shiver in my arms. "I suppose you're right."

We hold each other's gaze for a moment, the library silent around us, the aura of our love pulsing in tune with our throbbing heartbeats on the floor of the old rug.

As if in response, she sits upright and opens her legs wider, taking me in deeper. Our lips won't part for a while yet.