In and Out

In.  The first touch of the head on my labia, moving them firmly aside, feeling them spread over like water that follows the contours of it until it opens the passage within, the edges of the head like a speed bump, a dip in the road.  Then the entrance.  The vagina is actually quite shallow, much more shallow than a cock is long, at least at first.  Even after foreplay, after aching for penetration, the cock is an intruder.  For an instant, the natural defense tightens even the most practiced cunt.  But he is an intruder who is meant to intrude.  Why else would the parts fit together so perfectly?

Out.  The gentle suction as the piston of the plunger is pulled back.  I often wonder if sex can produce a vacuum within me.  It feels like that, when he's been all the way in, to the root of me, and he has to pull out sometime otherwise there's no sex, just penetration.  Not that I don't enjoy the penetration alone, but without movement, it's not complete.  I haven't grown used to him yet, this early.  My muscles still ease back into their old position as he exits, as if they expected that to be a one-time thing.  It's just the suction, the loss of warmth to the vacuum that may or may not exist.

In.  The first time I wanted it, needed it.  Now, no matter how much I know he's coming right back, after the first withdrawal I'm surprised he returns.  Maybe not in my brain, but my body is surprised; the flesh was just beginning to feel normal without him there, and here he is again, warm and hard and thick.  It kindles the desire, rekindles it, inflames it, throws gasoline on it.  I never want him to leave again.  I want to have him inside me always.

Out.  The second retreat is easier, quicker, less time to get used to the idea of it, building up to a rhythm which will see further penetrations and withdrawals.  He's not even all the way out this time, not most times, not when he's not teasing me.  The cock head stays securely inside me, the lips moved up and down his shaft by the thrusts.  Now, when he pulls back, my body wants him back.  It's like holding your arms up for a long time; you want to let them fall.  He was supporting me, and now the support is gone.  I feel like I might cave in.

In.  More quickly, less thoroughly.  I've grown deeper, like a pool that only seems shallow above the water, but when you dive in, the light tricked you and the bottom is miles away.  Only if he dives very deep will he touch the bottom now.  He's not looking to touch the bottom; the splashing is what we enjoy, most times.  Fully wet, completely lubricated, he can slide in and out of me, and if he does it in rhythm with my own movements, it's like he's within and without simultaneously.

Out.  I don't even notice it now.  I know he's coming back.  Maybe we had to switch positions, and there was a brief moment where my insides got used to the idea that maybe that was it.  Maybe I came, and the spasms drove him out for an instant.  But I can feel his energy there, ready to press into me again, and each penetration, each thrust, has merged into one long movement, unable to pick out the individual moments, just a continuum.

In.  Out.  In.  Out.  In.  And he grips me tight, and presses deep, deeper, and then if I can feel anything at all I feel the surge as he begins to cum.  There's a moment, just before the actual fluids, which I think should count as the beginning of orgasm, the moment when anticipation has reached its climax, when what is to follow is a foregone conclusion.  He stiffens, his breath catches.  When the shots are fired, things are remarkably still, compared to the rest of the activity.  The pulses are forceful, but they don't move.  He may press, but he seldom does anything but tense and relax.  Sometimes I feel the spurts of his semen as they splash against my womb.  Sometimes not.  It almost doesn't matter, after what has gone before.

Out.  At last.  He can't stay.  He may stay next to me, we may warm each other, even work up to another heady climax, but in the end, there must be a final retreat.  Until next time.