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He finally reached the general's office floor, noticing very little had changed in his absence. On reaching the director’s office, he opened the door, then promptly closed it after he entered obviously to seal off any idea of escape. He warmly embraced her, as he had known her long before his days with others. She hasn’t changed a bit, not a single bit.
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Title Page
Something Beautiful
Floods in the Spring
Jeremy McHarry
Something Beautiful / 3rd of series: Floods in the Spring / By Jeremy McHarry
Published 2023 by Bentockiz
e-book Imprint: Calkden Norsh
e-book Registration: Stockholm, Sweden
e-book ISBN: 9789198826579
e-book editing: Athens, Greece
Cover Images created via AI art generators
Table of Contents
Title Page
Introduction
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Introduction
Through books we come into contact with everything important that has happened in the past, analyzing also current events and putting our thoughts together to predict the future. The book is a window to the world, acquiring valuable knowledge and sparking our vivid imagination. It is a means of entertainment and is generally seen as a best friend, or as a slave that carries together all valuable information for us. The book is a friend who stays together without demands, a friend you call upon at every moment and abandon when you want.
It accompanies us in the hours of boredom and loneliness, while at the same time it entertains us. In general, a book does not ask anything from us, while it waits patiently on a dusty shelf to give us its information, to get us out of dead ends and to travel us to magical worlds.
This may be the travel mission of our books. Abstract narration, weird or unconscious thoughts difficult to be understood, but always genuine and full of life experiences, these are stories of life that can’t be overlooked easily.
This may be the start of something amazing!
Chapter One
In the kitchen, he’s cleaned up their lunch dishes and finished fixing the fresh batch of iced tea. She steps into his arms and hugs him tightly as she tells him, “Thank you for all of your love, support, and encouragement, for picking me up at the airport, for giving me so much pleasure earlier, and for making me laugh. However, you could have been somewhat less successful on that last one.”
“Why?”
“Because I almost peed my panty.”
He leans over and nibbles on one of her ears as he quietly tells her, “It was already damp.”
She gasps as pleasure surges into her and she quickly requests, “Make it that way again!”
Chapter Two
He grasps her on each side of her waist, picks her up, turns, sits her on the kitchen counter, steps between her spreading legs, and kisses her with abandon. Her feet move to behind his legs and she pulls their bodies even tighter together as she responds to his kiss with equal fervor. For a little while, they struggle to keep the desire banked at the kiss and breathe level. While he caresses her face with one hand as they’re both panting for breath, she pulls his other hand down to her breast and he barely begins to caress it when she cries out with her pleasure. He moves it away then moves it towards her other breast and just starts to caress it when she climaxes with another cry.
As she pants for breath, he gently lays her back onto the kitchen counter. She almost climaxes at seeing him standing there between her wide spread legs with their pubic areas separated by only a few pieces of cloth. He reaches up and begins to unbutton her shirt then she groans as his wrists brush over her aching nipples. When her shirt is unbuttoned, he spreads it wide, then begins to caress seemingly all over her bare skin, her sides, her upper abdomen, and her upper chest while he barely bypasses her lacy bra. She drops her hands to her sides, arches her back, and begs him to touch her swollen nipples then cries out when he does.
As she lays back down while she pants for breath, the pleasure fills her so full, it seems like another single drop will overflow her. Through half closed eyes, she sees his hands move, then groans as she feels him unhook her bra and open it wide. He lowers himself over her while she groans again as his upper abdomen presses down on her just above her pubic area then she groans louder as he kisses her between her breasts. Her legs tighten as she tries to close the minuscule gap between their bodies. She wishes she had longer arms to undo his pants and pull him into her then all is forgotten except the pleasure when she climaxes with a scream as his lips and tongue excite every nerve ending in one of her nipples.
She can only gasp for breath, then scream again as his lips and tongue excite her other nipple. He slowly pushes himself up while he trembles with his own desire and is surprised he feels it so strongly after his recent release. As he stands up, he looks down, sees her wide spread bare legs, her uncovered damp panty and he barely stops himself from undoing his pants and entering her, but he can’t stop himself from rubbing his thumbs across the bottom of her panty. She screams with her orgasmic pleasure and collapses.
It seems like only then can he gain just enough control of himself to step back, push her limp legs together and pull her skirt back to its proper position. For several minutes, he stands next to her and braces himself on the counter while he tries to get his breathing, then his desire, under control.
When he thinks he can manage, he gently pulls her towards the end of the counter, pauses a little then picks her up, moves the few steps to the love seat, gently lays her down, and pulls her shirt together to cover her chest. Considering how tired he feels, he’s half tempted to just drop to the floor. Instead, he gently moves her flaccid legs, sits on the love seat, straightens her legs out while he drapes them over his thighs, reclines the seat, and is soon asleep.
Slowly, Sharlene becomes aware and still feels a warm glow of pleasure. She knew she missed George, but their mutual hunger is more than she expected, wonderfully more, since she feels more relaxed and satisfied than she has in what seems like a long time. She briefly wonders how many times his touch sent her pleasure soaring over the mountain peak. For all of that pleasure, she doesn’t feel sore, then realizes he barely had to touch her for the pleasure to explode through her and not long enough for her to be able to get sore.
While her body almost feels limp, she somehow manages to get up and goes to the bathroom. After she washes herself, she gleefully puts on a clean panty and wonders if she can encourage him to dampen this one also, then realizes that her desire, rather than satisfied, merely took a short break. She takes a blanket with her back to the love seat and covers him up, then sits next to him while she looks at him. After a minute or so, he seems to relax a little more, probably as the blanket warms him up some. When she realizes that she feels a little cool herself, she goes ahead and refastens her bra and buttons her shirt back up.
Since she guesses he’ll rest for awhile yet, she takes her luggage to the bedroom and empties it, puts her grandmother’s box on the dresser to examine later, and makes a mental note to do some laundry tomorrow. She goes back to the front room and takes his luggage to the bedroom. When she’s back in the front room, she picks up her computer case, pulls out the paperwork, puts George’s and the company’s paperwork at the end of the table, and puts her own with her other personal papers.
She makes a cup of tea, turns her computer on, then downloads the last several days of emotional recordings and replaces the battery in the headband. As she reviews the recordings and makes her notes, she briefly wonders which ones will be appropriate to submit and if there should be any order or sequence. Since she doesn’t know the answers to a number of other issues, the question of which recordings to submit can wait.
When she’s finished making her notes, she hears him stir. She quickly turns her computer off, goes to the love seat, sits down, reclines her seat back even with his, turns towards him, and gently caresses his face.
He quietly asks, “Sharlene?”
“Yes, George?”
“You’re real?”
“As real as you are.”
“You’ll have to do better than that.” He opens his eyes and grins at her.
She smiles as she responds, “I can never do better than be as real as you.”
He lifts the blanket, reaches for her, pulls her to him with her clearly active cooperation, and kisses her long and gently. When he has enough breath, he proclaims, “Mmm, yes, you are real.”
She initiates the next long gentle kiss then lays her head next to his to nibble on one of his ears while her hand caresses the other side of his face. A little later, she tells him, “You’re a wonderful man, George Greyson. I feel so comfortable and safe with you. No other man has made me feel this way. On top of that, you’re so kind and gentle, so generous and compassionate. You make me laugh. You comfort me when I’m upset. You listen to what I have to say. You answer my questions to be best of your ability no matter how difficult they are.
“On top of all of that, you do things to please me, even when you aren’t real interested in doing them, like help me with the company. The icing on the cake is that you touch me and give me more pleasure than I imagined a person could ever experience. I know I’ve told you many of these things before, but I’m going to keep telling you, because every day I’m with you, they become even more true and you demonstrate them more fully.”
She lifts herself up, looks him in the eyes, and tells him, “You’re the right man for me, the only man for me. I can never love you enough for all of the love you’ve shown me.” She kisses him with such warmth, love, and tenderness he could cheerfully suffocate just to keep the kiss going longer.
When he can speak without panting for breath, he tells her, “My lady, you’re too kind. For you to take an old man into your home and into your heart, for you to be a willing and active partner in intimate activities with me of all people, is beyond my imagination. I . . . I don’t know what to say. No matter what I do for you, it can never be enough for what you’ve already done for me.”
“I understand you feel that way, and I appreciate all of your willingness and effort to do all you can for me. But none of this would have happened if you hadn’t have made the first right step. You respected me, you kept me safe, and you didn’t take advantage of me. I know you think you were only trying to do what was right, but the fact of the matter is that you did the right thing, when so many others wouldn’t have.
“You demonstrated in actions far louder than words that I can trust you, completely. You made me feel safe. You made me feel comfortable. And in so doing, you unintentionally encouraged me to look beyond the minor issue of our age difference and to see the only man suitable for me.” She kisses him and tries to put all of her conviction and sincerity into the kiss.
“Oh, lady, you make me feel special.”
“I’m glad, because you’re more special that I can possible describe.” She kisses him again as she tries to reinforce her statement as thoroughly as she can.
They lay there for awhile and soak in each other’s loving embrace. A little later, he squirms and explains, “I’m sorry, my lady, but some bodily functions have no sense of proper timing.”
She rolls off of him, says, “I understand,” gets up, and pulls him to his feet for a brief tight hug before she sends him down the hall.
* * * * *
2147-09-29 (a3)
George returns as she pours hot water into a cup to make tea. She holds up the kettle and asks, “Do you want a cup?”
“Yes, please. . . . Sharlene, I don’t mean to sound like I doubt you, but did you really want to save me because I hadn’t touched you?”
“Yes. I know it sounds very selfish, but I knew you were the only man who I would trust enough to allow him to touch me intimately and I very much wanted that. I wanted you to touch me that first sixth-day when I kissed you, I just didn’t know how much I wanted your touch.”
“Oh.”
She steps close, holds his head, looks into his eyes, and tells him, “George, you’re a very special and wonderful man. Somehow, I knew it within just a couple of days of meeting you. You met the criteria of what I wanted in a man before I would consider having a relationship with one. I knew I would never find another man to meet my criteria, at least not without an extensive search and I didn’t want to wait that long when you were right there in front of me. I’ll admit that my mind balked at the idea simply because of arbitrary social standards, but my heart knew.”
He partially squats, wraps his arms snugly around her, proclaims, “Thank you!” picks her up, and kisses her. She lifts her legs to wrap around his waist then his right arm slips under her buttocks to support her while her arms go around his neck and she happily responds to his succession of kisses.
When she feels him start to tremble with the effort of holding her up, she suggests, “Put me on the counter.” He steps over to the kitchen counter and sits her down without a break in his kisses. After more kisses, she stops him during a breathing break, and tells him, “George, I love your kisses, but don’t wear yourself out trying to give them all to me today. I want them tomorrow and the day after that and every day after that. Scoot back a little.” Even while he keeps a hand on the counter, he partially stumbles. She quickly slips off of the counter and guides him to sit on the love seat, then asks, “Are you okay?”
“I’m sorry I went overboard, but it felt like all of a sudden, I have a heart and it had to express itself,” and he pulls her closer for yet another kiss.
A couple of kisses later, Sharlene is tempted to escalate their touching to full blown pleasure then she remembers his trembling body. She lets George catch his breath after another kiss then suggests, “You need food and rest before you wear yourself out. What would you like for dinner? I’m afraid there’s not much in the fridge right now.”
“Boxes I put . . . in dining area?”
“Yes.”
“Meals to reheat . . . see what you want.”
Since she isn’t sure what he means, she gives him a quick kiss then goes look in the boxes. She finds jars labeled chicken soup and beef stew, some smaller jars labeled spaghetti sauce and a few which she recognizes as his blackberry jelly. She pulls out one labeled chicken soup. It looks like his chicken soup then she notices that it’s the same style of jar and lid as his jam. She’s looks the jar over then sees that it’s labeled ‘1 quart’. Somehow, she never questioned his jam being in a jar and on his shelves, but now she wonders how that can be. She carries the jar over to the love seat and asks, “Shouldn’t these be put in the freezer or the fridge?”
“No. Why?”
“Won’t they go bad?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“They’re sealed.” When he notices her puzzled expression, George asks, “Have you ever heard of ‘canning’?”
“Um, I think I’ve heard my grandparents talk about it, but I don’t know what it is.”
“It’s the same basic process which food preparation companies use to prepare perishable foods which can be stored at room temperature such as canned fruits, vegetables, and meats. The product is put in a container, the home preparer usually uses glass jars like that, the lid is put on, then it’s put into a tub of water and heated to a certain temperature for a period of time, which kills any germs and bacteria and forces the air out. When the jar is removed from the hot water, it slowly cools, and as the product contracts, the vacuum in the jar pulls the lid down air tight and seals. The product can safely stay at room temperature for several years, although a cooler temperature will usually help the flavor stay fresher longer.”
She thinks about it for a little while before she responds, “Interesting. Fruits and vegetables have a limited growing season, so by growing more than you can eat during harvest time, you can use this canning process to preserve them to use at other times in the year. But wouldn’t freezing them work just as well?”
He explains, “That depends on the product. Freezing and canning cause different changes in a product. And most people don’t have enough freezer space to store much food. If you have a large enough home garden, it’s better to can the product and put it on a shelf or in a box. Besides, in the past, even in my grandparents’ time, not all people had freezers. The only way to preserve food in order to eat it out of season was to can it or, in the case of meat, to heavily salt it.”
“Oh. I hadn’t thought about that. So why soup, stew, or sauce?”
“Vegetables in season and convenience.”
“Convenience? It didn’t take that long for us to make chicken soup at your place, even a few meals worth.”
He nods his head and responds, “Although that’s true, it was partially because I had most of the vegetables already prepared. By spending some time, I was able to cook up a much larger batch of soup and by canning it, the soup is already cooked and only needs to be reheated without waiting for it to thaw. And without having to make another batch every third or fourth time I want it.”
She sets the jar down on the counter, sits on the love seat to face him, and says, “Okay, I know I’m missing something. What’s the connection? Why did you make the effort to make those things and bring them down with you?”
“I figured that while you’re starting a new company, we might work late or come home tired and won’t want to put the effort into cooking every night. This way we only have to reheat the food and don’t have to be concerned about all of the additives and preservatives which are put in commercial convenience foods.”
Sharlene leans over and kisses George thoroughly. When she lets him breathe, she turns, sits on his upper legs, cuddles close as his arms go around her, and tells him, “You’re a jewel of a man. The thought would have never occurred to me.”
“You’ve had a few more significant things to think about. I figured if I can take care of some of the little things, it will leave you free to concentrate on the bigger things. I know that what I’ve brought isn’t much in the way of variety, but it might help on those evenings when the only thought is to get something to eat without having to put a lot of effort into it.”
She pulls his head down and kisses him again before she says, “It was a wonderfully thoughtful thing for you to do. Thank you. I’ve had your chicken soup before, so I think I would like to try your beef stew.”
“Whatever you wish.”
“You be careful with that statement, old man. I might be tempted to forego the caloric food to spend the evening tasting you,” and she demonstrates with a thorough kissing.
When his breathing has settled, he shakes his head and says, “I don’t know, before I can agree, I think the intent of the pronouns needs to be reversed.”
She starts to puzzle out his meaning when he leans her back, tongue caresses her chin which startles her, then he ‘attacks’ her throat and neck with growls, tongue caresses, and nibbles. She starts to laugh at the silliness of his action as well as the ticklishness of his beard as he moves his head around. When his lips return to hers, she responds intently, not sure if she’s trying to pour herself into him or swallow him whole. Soon, they’re both panting for breath.
She snuggles up to him for awhile as though she’s trying to push herself into him before she tells him, “You’re so wonderful to me.” She kisses him again, this time more gently. In order to give him another chance to catch his breath, she gets up while she tells him, “Food, before you distract me again.” After she puts the jar of chicken soup back in the box, she gets out one labeled beef stew, sets the jar on the counter, and attempts to unscrew the lid. When she’s unsuccessful, she asks, “Are the lids normally hard to get off?”
“Sometimes they can be a little sticky.” George goes to the box and comes back with a rubber disk and says, “This can help with the grip. Or we may need to run it under warm water for a little while.” He lays the rubber disk over the top of the jar and twists.
She’s surprised to see him remove a metal ring while a flat metal lid is still sealed to the top of the jar so she asks, “Two pieces?”
“This kind is, some are one piece.”
“So how to you get that flat piece off?”
“Usually it can be pried off.” He demonstrates with the handle of a fork. She hears a pop and a moment later he pulls the flat lid off, turns it over, and explains, “This rubber ring provides an airtight seal. Be taking it off this way, it usually doesn’t change the shape of the lid and it can be used once or twice more.” He sets the lid upside down on the counter.
“And if you can’t get it off that way?”
“Then a bottle opener usually does the trick.”
* * * * *
2147-09-29 (e1)
Sharlene looks at him for a moment before she admits, “I guess I need to display my ignorance. What’s a bottle opener?”
George leans over and gives her a gentle brief kiss before he steps back around the counter to the boxes as he says, “You can’t be expected to know all about ancient history.” He gets something out of the box, comes back, and lays a small metal bar in her hand.
She sees that one end has an angled curved end while the other end has an angled pointed end and asks, “How does it work?”
He sets the lid back on top of the jar, takes the bar, and demonstrates as he explains, “Quite often the metal of the lid gets bent using this method and can’t be used again.”
“What’s the pointed end for?”
“That’s a can opener.”
Since she’s surprised at that answer, she asks, “A can opener?” It looks nothing like either the electric or manual can openers of opposing rotating disks she’s familiar with.
“It’s primarily intended to open cans with liquid contents. A person would punch a full size hole in one side of the lid, turn the can around to punch an air hole in the other side of the lid and pour. If nothing else is available, it can also open a can with more solid contents by punching a sequence of holes around the rim of the lid.”
“Interesting. It may be a bit more work, but that would certainly be a lot easier to carry than a typical can opener.”
He nods his head in agreement and says, “As society became more affluent, it also became less efficient and developed more specialized equipment. When I was young, there were advertisements for half a dozen different specialized cooking utensils to prepare what my parents or grandparents would have cooked using a simple skillet.” George steps around her, deliberately slides his right hand across the back of her buttocks, and gets a pan out of a lower cupboard, pours the stew in, sets in on the stove, and turns on the burner. He stirs it while she gets bowls and spoons out.
Sharlene slips under his left arm and hugs him which leaves his right arm free to stir. A few moments later, she asks, “When you went behind me to get the pan, did you touch me deliberately?”
“Yes.”
“Why?” She barely stops herself from hugging him tighter.
“Because, my luscious lady, I feel like I’m addicted to you and your body. I can’t seem to get enough of you. I warned you that as our touching becomes more intimate, I’ll want to be touching you more, not only more intimately, but more frequently. If it bothers you, please speak up and I’ll do my best to refrain from touching you until you’re ready to be touched.”
This time, she doesn’t stop herself from hugging him tighter. After he gives the stew another stir, she takes the spoon out of his hand, pulls him a step away from the stove, kisses him breathless, then explains, “If it was somehow possible, I would gladly have you touch me constantly.”
His left arm goes around her and holds her as tightly as he dares while his trembling right hand picks up the spoon to stir the stew before it begins to burn on the bottom. A minute or so later, he turns off the stove and ladles the stew into the two bowls and she slightly raises her eyebrows in surprise that there’s still some in the pan.
He notices the direction of her look then explains, “There’s more if you want or it can be served as leftovers. I thought a quart would be more than enough for a meal for us, but guessed that a pint wouldn’t be quite enough.”
They carry their bowls to the table with fresh glasses of iced tea and she has George sit on her right so they can sit thigh to thigh. Although she’s right handed, it’s easier for her to eat with her left hand than it is for him. After she takes a few bites, Sharlene expresses her opinion, “Mmm, this is good.”
“I’m glad you like it.”
She likes it even more when his left hand slides onto her right leg and, after an extended pause, begins to gently caress her leg. She’s quick to respond with her own caressing hand. Their mutual caressing stops only when it’s time to tilt their bowls to spoon up the last of the vegetable and barley bits with the remaining broth. She leans on him and asks, “So, old man, do you always add the spice of intimate pleasure to your food to make it taste better?”
“Only with the one woman who I think might enjoy it.” He leans over and kisses her. She resists breaking the spell of his long warm gentle kiss by escalating it. Eventually, he leans back in order to breathe.
“Mmm, ‘enjoy’ barely begins to describe how much pleasure it brings me.” Her sparkling eyes and smiling lips invite him to kiss her again, which he can’t refuse. Several more similar kisses have her wishing this could go on forever, then she gasps in delight as the pleasure increases when his right hand, which had been caressing her face and trailing fingertips along her jaw, throat, neck, and ears, slides down her torso and gently cups then rubs her left breast with the palm of his hand.
This time when he leans back to breathe, she gets out of her chair, pushes his chair back far enough from the table to slide her left leg over his legs, sits on his legs facing him, and guides both of his hands to her breasts. She closes her eyes, leans her head back and groans as he sends waves of pleasure flowing through her. Whether it’s minutes or hours she doesn’t know, but his hands stop exciting her breasts sooner than she wants then he pulls her close into a warm hug.
While her head rests on his shoulder, her breathing eventually settles, and she’s able to tell him, “Wonderful, simply wonderful,” before she begins to kiss the side of his neck and nibble on his ear. It’s awhile longer before actual thoughts can be recognized through the feeling of pleasure which fills her then it’s longer before the thoughts can be expressed as words, “Have you told your little friends ‘hello’ yet?”
He briefly hesitates then says, “Not directly,” even as he considers how to do so in a distinct manner. A little later, he leans around her and moves his eating utensils out of way. Before she can puzzle out his intent, he lifts her up onto the edge of the table and scoots his chair closer between her legs. Even as the thought registers within her that this is where she wants him to be, her anticipation of the coming pleasure leaps skyward as he begins to unbutton her shirt.
Although she wants him to quickly remove her shirt and give her more pleasure, she’s thrilled with his slow, deliberate, one button at a time between many caresses, removal of her shirt which builds her pleasure to greater heights. She gasps and groans each time his hand or wrist brushes over her growing nipples. When her shirt is unbuttoned, he caresses her for awhile longer before he pushes her shirt off of her arms and sets it aside.
As though he’s building her mountain of pleasure one stone at a time, he caresses her upper abdomen while he kisses her upper chest and occasionally caresses her lace covered breasts and somehow just misses her hardened nipples. She’s almost feeling limp with all of the pleasure which is rolling through her then she partially stiffens as a stronger wave of pleasure hits her when he undoes her bra hook and opens it wide while her nipples feel as though they grow even larger as they’re released from their lacy confines. Her actual pleasure soon surpasses her anticipated pleasure as he pushes her bra off of her arms then leans close.
She groans as she feels his warm breath spread across one of her breasts while he imagines that he’s making the sound of the first two letters of ‘hello’. She stops breathing with the intense pleasure as the tip of his tongue rapidly flicks over the top of one of her taunt nipples as though he’s repeating the movement of his tongue to make the ‘ll’ sound of ‘hello’. But when his mouth forms an ‘o’ around her nipple and sucks, she screams with the strength of her climax.
Although his lips and tongue move away from the nipple he had just greeted, they remain close enough that it takes quite awhile for her breathing to begin to settle. When he says ‘hello’ to his other little friend, the results are the same, maybe, if possible, even a little more intense. As her body starts to slump, he lifts her off of the table and onto his legs then he wraps his arms around her to hold her tight, but as her sensitized nipples are pressed onto his shirt, her groan is almost another cry of climax. Reluctantly, she arches her back to move her nipples away from his shirt.
As her pleasure dissipates a little, she’s able to relax some and allow her nipples to again touch then press onto his shirt while the strong pleasure doesn’t quite become climax intense. She rests her head on his shoulder, but it’s still some time before her breathing has settled. When she can, she turns her head, weakly nibbles on his earlobe, and says, “I never knew being told ‘hello’ could be so exquisitely pleasurable. Thank you.”
“It was my pleasure.” His arms pull her closer.
* * * * *
2147-09-29 (e2)
It’s a number of minutes later before enough energy has seeped back into her body for her to sit up, grab his head with both hands and kiss him. Rather than kiss him breathless, Sharlene keeps the kisses shorter which allows both of them to grab a couple of quick breaths before they renew the kiss. After awhile, her hands move down and begin to unbutton his shirt. Since she’s now able to sit up on her own, his hands drop down along her sides, slide along the fronts of her legs, then slip under the hem of her skirt to caress the fronts and outsides of her legs. Her breathing speeds up then she asks, “Is this a part of the encore?” She spreads his shirt to caress his chest.
Since he isn’t sure what she means, George asks, “Encore?”
“You play the instrument of my body like a virtuoso. Isn’t every wonderful performance followed by an encore?” She scoots herself closer and kisses him. It takes him a moment to understand the reference. Since her own eyes are closed, she doesn’t see his eyes pop open and shine, but she does feel his momentary stumble during the kiss, then his increased fervor immediately following which lasts until they run out of breath.
While his breathing starts to settle, hers becomes more rapid as his hands slide further under her skirt and around her hips to gently grip her panty covered buttocks and pull her tighter to him. She tightens her own grip on him then groans as her sensitized nipples press onto the bare skin of his chest. Her groans grow louder as she rubs her nipples on his chest, then she gasps as the pleasure shoots through her from the palms of his hands which cup the bottom of her buttocks and lift her up which causes her nipples to slide up his chest.
