I paused for a brief moment to catch my breath, and to ask, "May I put my fingers in?"
"God, yes," she gasped. "Please. Yes."
I turned my hand palm-up and began to gently slide my middle and ring finger inside her. Her body offered no resistance at all, engulfing my fingers easily. She was ready for me, slick and warm and aching to be filled.
"Harder," she said. "Don't worry. I won't break."
I happily obliged, letting the twisting and thrashing of her hips guide me. My whole body, mind, and soul were consumed by her—the sound of her hungry moans, her sweet taste, the way her labia felt in my mouth and against my tongue, the lovely warmth and softness my fingers found inside her—and in the moment, the whole universe was contained within her, and flowed through her, and was her.
I became engrossed in pleasing her in a way I can only compare to the way it feels to stand behind the altar, caught up in the great and holy mystery of the Eucharist, calling down the Spirit of God upon the Host and the Cup.
Take.
Eat.
This is my body.
Nothing else I have ever experienced even comes close to the way I felt as my young lover trembled and quaked in response to my touch. Her writhing hips grew more and more insistent, forcing my fingers deeper into her, pressing the balls of her bare feet into the floor on either side of me for leverage.
"Fuck me," she begged as I slammed my hand in and out of her body. "Don't stop."
A shriek about two octaves above middle C poured forth from between her parted lips as her body spasmed violently. I never fancied myself the type of woman who would be aroused by the sound of a noisy lover in the throes of ecstasy, let alone one whose ecstasy took the form of a high-pitched scream. But coming from her, it was music—an aria of passion sung by a goddess to a woefully unworthy mortal.
Her body trembled weakly as the great tidal wave within her crashed aggressively, leaving her breathless. She released a gush of thick, creamy, sweet liquid. I lapped it up gratefully, savouring the taste. I continued penetrating her with my fingers, slow and deep, not wanting this moment to end.
Another great wave overtook her, and again she screamed, her body and voice totally outside of her control. After her third and most powerful orgasm ripped through her body, she was still. I used my tongue to clean her up slowly.
"Mother Leah," she said, in a voice so painfully small that it tugged at my heart a bit harder than I could bear. "Will you lie down with me?"
"Of course, love." I lay on my back beside her, and helped maneuver her so that she was on her side with her head on one of my collarbones, and supported her back with my arm. I felt healing energy flow through my hand onto her skin, as though I had anointed her and laid hands on her for the purpose of unction.
My other hand supported the back of her head, my fingers wading in her dark, soft curls. Her legs soon became intertwined with mine. We rested together, sharing sweet little kisses and nuzzles, enjoying the closeness.
Noticing the scent of my lingering wetness, she reached her hand down between my legs. Cupping the fluffy blonde mound, she repositioned herself so that her head was on my belly, and began to lazily massage me with her hand. The angle was a bit awkward, and she was exhausted, but her touch was electrifying where I needed it most. "Oh, God" I murmured, digging my fingertips into her back. I had no idea how badly I needed to come until just then, and it wasn't long before her gentle but firm touch provided the release I ached for, allowing me to relax completely.
"Thank you, Julie," I said. "That was nice."
"You're welcome," she said, kissing my lips sweetly before snuggling back up with me. She began licking her thumb and fingers clean, which filled her with an almost childlike delight. "You taste so good, Mother Leah," she told me. "See?"