Crab Claw

I sit behind and watch as she humps her pillow, pounding into it, rubbing off her frustration. Her dark brown hair flies like crows and lands like ravens, flapping its long, soft feathers. Her fingers claw the pillow's sides, squeezing, wrenching it for life. She wants to soar.

Gale-force winds rush from her mouth, edging towards their greatest tempest, not quite making it.

"May I help?" I ask through her hoarse groans and grunts of arousal.

"Please." She manages to gasp, a near whimper, but I would not verbalize it a whimper for fear of hurting her pride.

I approach, self-conscious, afraid of being clawed and self-doubting whether I have greater affect than her pillow.

Braving my feelings I tend to hers, kissing and caressing her flexing back muscles. A quick shine of moonlight allows a glance of wetness spotting the pillow. My fingers eagerly trace down her spine and lace between her butt-cheeks... My palm rests against her grinding. She slows, brushing and squeezing my hand. I whisper a silent lull, mixed of mind and breathy whistle.

Arse arches against my fingertips, I cross it tauntingly before hooking my fingers into her sopping cunt and cupping her ass with my palm. I pin her breast with my free hand, gently pinching and massaging her left nipple.

She bucks into my fingers, but I slow her down, pressing my body against her, resisting her energy, holding her back, building her orgasm. My front hand leaves her nipple and smoothly travels her quaking body as my lips smile into her back, licking and sucking every time she shivers and jolts. The resulting sound of her voice is breathtaking.

"Hold me." She says. I hug as tightly possible.

She lies across the mattress, panting, and with sudden, unexpected force launches at me. I grunt as her full-weight impacts. Bedsprings creak and groan.

Sighs escape my lips as her mouth traces my eyebrow and jaw, then licks and nips my neck. She rushes to suckle my nipples.

"Mmm Nipple Ring," she says.

I don't have one, but now I want one. I grin foolishly while her fingers tickle my ribs.

Her tongue traces my belly button. Even as she distracts herself, nudging my cunt, I know it's coming. Muscles flare, taut. A mischievous smile wipes her lips. Spring! She leaps and plunges her tongue into my belly button commandeering, wracking boisterous hollers from a Me that appears out of body. Her beautiful, flexed back muscles are my last sight between giggles and laughs before I blackout.

...

My eyelids blink.

Resting her chin on the entrance of the well she emptied, she smiles and kisses my waist, rising only to beckon my lips to her mouth.

"Show me something else." She says, enigmatically. Her seductive tone and dark features convey an alluringly mysterious presence I cannot resist.

I feel her excitement building, a thunderous earthquake of arousal about to break the dam of desire.

With a little bit of nervousness and flirt, I say, "Crab Claw," holding my pointer and middle finger pinched together. "The pointer enters the urethra while the middle enters the vagina. Slowly, as exiting is difficult if the pee hole isn't lubricated enough. Then pinch the skin between the pee hole and vagina. The vagina has a rougher or ribbed texture where the G spot is; and, the urethra has a softer feel with stronger, more frequent spasms. The tip of your finger will enter the sphincter muscle to the bladder where you can feel my contractions and heartbeat."

"Show me." She says, and aggressively grabs my two fingers and pulls them to her cunt. "Now." She begs.

"I don't think we should. It's your first time. We should acclimate you."

"I don't want to wait." She pouts and squeezes my 'crab claw'.

"I don't want to hurt you." I say, kissing her stomach and tickling her clit.

My pointer finger teases the entrance of her urethra. She rotates her hips into my circling fingertips, neck swooning, voice gasping.

"Do it please." She says.

I sigh. "Tell me if it hurts." Secretly, I decide I'm only putting the tip in, as more than that would hurt the first time.

She gasps and groans deliriously, rocking about until I have to pin her down and rediscover where my fingers are. The tip of my finger enters her urethra, while another pinches against it from her vagina. Inside is so soft I never want to leave. I must taste her. My lips and tongue devour her cunt shamelessly.

Her breaths are sharp and short as if she's about to arrive and can't resist. I slowly withdraw my fingers and lick her honey. My tongue traces and prods her pee hole. In a mirror I can see her expression of pleasure: biting her lip, eyes closed. Grinning, I re-enter my fingers slowly, building courage with every moan and squeak she utters, until I realize she has taken my entire finger without a sign of pain. Bucking, rocking, squeezing, she does more than I dared with urethral penetration.

"Don't stop!" She ceases moving and bears down with all her might. I can feel her about to arrive as I flick her clit with my tongue and rub her G-spot. My urethral finger stays planted, unmoving, letting her crush it with her muscles. She is so tight!

A sharp squeal pierces the room, followed by a train wreck of blissful sex moans. I feel as if I played an electric piano that has more notes than the manual says.

We lays motionless, staring at the ceiling and chatting, until she cannot resist the anesthetics of sex. I am terribly hungry and explore the kitchen while she rests. The only thing I can find is a one-person serving of tater tots.

She wakes next to a plate of tater tots and laughs. "Do you want to go for coffee?" She asks, blushing as she realizes I cooked the only thing in the house and gave it to her.

With a youthful spring, she leaps out of bed and slips me into my bra. The straps tickle as they gently brush my skin. She hovers at my neck, breath millimeters away. I sigh and shudder. Her hands are so loving as she hooks my bra. We embrace, tracing each other's backs, necks, jaws, lips. Lost in a kiss. We playfully dress one another. She takes a tater tots and feeds me, then wraps me in a kiss, swirling her tongue around until I giggle.

Moments later, we stroll hand-in-hand down the street to a cafe. A shock of fear smacks me as my clumsiness reminds me I don't know how to walk with another person.

"I can show you that." She whispers, pecking my cheek and meeting my pace so I no longer feel I am being dragged off the rear of a roller coaster. She shows me how to lock arms comfortably.

There is a a buzz of enthusiasm down the street. The cafe is packed. Our shoulders meet the crowd of people trying to grab a cup before work. We wait patiently in line. In a few minutes the craziness will be gone and the room, until the next rush, will be a quiet sanctuary.

The register beeps with every phone scanned as people pay with their digital debit cards. Our turn. She shoots me subtle glances the barista never sees. Then tickles my hand with hers while we wait in line to pick up our order.

I spot a small corner table and nod to it. "I don't want to go home." I mumble as we sit down with our coffee. Our table is small and round, with drawers on every side.

"Home? You're not going home. We're having a coffee break, then back to bed." She winks and nudges me beneath the table, clasping my leg between hers.

"Thank you." I mouth, and silently enjoy the tingles from her legs embracing mine.