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against her pube, he circled the clitoris gently, over and over again. Then
he would flick it playfully with the tip of his tongue, then caress it
warmly.

Her gasps became moans, first breathy, then louder as her hips moved
even more violently. She ran one hand through his hair while pressing the
other against her mouth in a futile attempt to stifle the noise. “Oh God,”
she moaned, “That feels so goooood…”

Harry would have said something in reply, but it was bad manners to
talk with your mouth full.

Not that it would be full much longer. Her moans had become cries that
she was powerless to silence. Her hips moved so violently that he had a
difficult time keeping his tongue where it belonged and he held onto her
thighs to keep her steady. The more excited she became, the farther her
clit poked out of its fleshy covering, and the easier it was to torment it.
Then her cries suddenly silenced as every muscle in her body locked and her
hips rose high off the bed, carrying Harry with them. For a timeless second
she remained like that, every muscle quivering in an explosive orgasm,
before settling back on the bed with a mighty groan.

Wow, he thought. Cindi never got off like that. Experimentally he
probed with his tongue again. She almost jumped off the bed. “No! Stop,
please… No more…” she pleaded in an exhausted whisper. Slowly Harry
uncurled himself and crawled up to rest beside her. He ran a hand along her
skin, which was cold and beaded with sweat. She rolled onto her side and
threw an arm around him, burying her face in his chest. She was shaking
like a leaf. He hugged her tight to him until the trembling subsided.

Finally she said “That was good.” She ran a hand down to his belly to
his penis. His erection had wilted, and she began to massage some life back
into it. It was not long at all before he was hard again, and she ran her
fingers tantalizingly along the length of his hard-on. She rolled onto her
back again, pulling him on top of her with surprising strength. “I want
you. Now!”

The little man spoke up in his mind again, telling him he was walking
into disaster, but Harry ignored it as she guided his penis into her. He
thrust deep, and she gasped. “Still touchy.” she breathed into his ear.

He thrust again and again, in and out, as her hips moved in time with
his own. With one hand he supported himself while the other ran along her
side, feeling her body. Her mouth met his in a deep kiss.

Too soon, much too soon, he felt the pleasure building. It mounted
higher and higher, until he knew he was going to come. He rested for a
moment until it died back, but it returned with twice the ferocity as soon
as he began pumping again. He tried to will it back, to force it down, but
the pleasure quickly grew out of control. He groaned through clenched teeth
at an explosion of pleasure as his seed shot into the warm depths of her
body. She held him tight as the echoes faded and Harold began to relax.

As the pleasure faded, fear replaced it. Now was the moment of truth.
Was she going to accept him or explode with rage? He pulled out and lay
down beside her, trembling slightly.

She noticed something was wrong right away. “What is it?”

“Nothing.” he mumbled.

“Don’t give me that. You just withdrew into yourself like a turtle in
a shell. What are you afraid of?”

He swallowed hard “I thought you might get mad. Because… because I
couldn’t last very long. I was premature.”

“What are you talking about?” she asked, “That was fantastic! I
haven’t got off that hard in a long time. What-” Suddenly an idea began to
form. “Harry, what was it you were so upset about when you first came in
here?”

Harold told her about Cindi. It took much coaxing to get the whole
truth out, as the pain had not diminished after all.

After he finished, she was silent for a long time. Finally she said,
“I almost can’t believe somebody could do that to another person. Almost. I
know Cindi. She’s pretty fuckin’ shallow and self-centered. How on earth
did you ever get tangled up with her anyway?”

“I don’t know.” Harold said in a flat, lifeless voice. “I used to
think she was something special. I was in love. I thought she loved me.”

“I don’t think the bitch knows what love is.” Julie thought for a long
moment. “There’s only one thing to do. We’re going to have to get you over
this little problem of yours. And I think I know just the person to do
it.”

Harold lifted his head up to stare at her outline in the darkness.
“You know somebody who can fix it?”

“This guy can fix anything. He knows more about sex than Dr. Ruth.
He’ll know what to do. And then you can show that bitch what’s what.”

“I don’t know…” Harold began doubtfully.

“You don’t have to know.” she concluded for him. “I do.”

They lay together for a long time. Finally she said, “Ready for
another one?”

“Another what?” Harold asked innocently.

“Come on, now. You’ve had plenty of time to recover.” She began
stroking his penis, which was beginning to swell. “See what I mean?”

He felt the heat returning as he caressed her breast. “Well, if you
insist…”

“Of course I insist. You know what they say.”

“No, what do they say?” Harold asked as he moved on top of her.

“It’s usually better the second time around…”

And it was.

Sunday. Squirrel Heights. By noon, the temperature hit 100 degrees.
The misery at the boarding house was more acute than usual, as hangovers
didn’t mix with the heat at all. Also, because about five times as many
people as usual had spent the night there, the place needed a good airing
out. Especially the front room…

Michael Wilburn was fifty one years old and solidly built. Though
balding, his hair showed not a trace of gray and there was a mischevious
gleam in his eye when he smiled that showed that he had not yet surrendered
to his years and probably never will. He was handsome in an offhanded sort
of way, and had an easy, outgoing matter. He had once been an economics
professor at the local university, until he decided to apply some of his
theories to the stock market and found himself comfortably rich within a
year. Students who once avoided his classes like the plague now begged him
to return to teaching. He always got quite a laugh out of that. Despite
some trepidation when Julie had introduced them, Harold was surprised to
find he liked Michael almost immediately.

They sat at opposite ends of a study on the third floor, Harold in a
ratty old easy chair, Michael crosslegged on a small pile of pillows. The
air in the room was leaden, stiflingly hot. The only light streamed in
through a half-shuttered window and striped the floor between them. Harold
wiped sweat off his brow every few minutes, but his host seemed affected
not at all by the heat.

Opening up to a stranger is always hard, but hope forced Harold along.
Haltingly at first, then more freely with Michael’s gentle prodding, he
…End of the part2. To be continued..