Ella and I

Finally, Ella pointed out a mooring point on the island and even as I was still negotiating the docking, she was all over me, undoing buttons, unfastening my belt. I looped the rope over a post, while Ella attacked, yanking open my shirt to nuzzle and nibble my blood-buffed torso while she pulled my shorts off.

I tried to unpeel her before the animal in me just impaled her there and then. Or she impaled herself on me, which seemed as likely. She was fascinated by my cock and balls. For a moment - with her bare buttocks in my hard hands while her soft hands slid back and forth - I thought, 'yep this will do for me'.

But her letter loomed again. And her warning earlier. I was to see to her needs before she saw to mine. I'd assumed this meant I wouldn't get any attention myself until I'd passed her 'test'. Now I wonder if she'd made a deadline of my orgasm. A deadline that, with every milking pull of her fists, was getting closer.

As if to whack me in the face with the truth, Ella breathed, "So soon," and squeezed a drop of precum to my tip. "I thought you might be a man, but you are like all the other boys, no?" She shot a glare up at me and dropped to her knees.

In an effort to regain control before I exploded everything all to hell, I pushed her back. This was a sexual minefield. One false move and I'd be dumped like all the others.

"Get Comfy," I said with a bravado I didn't feel, tucking a cushion under her head and another under her hips and ignoring the quick pulses gathering behind my balls. I settled between her thighs and - over the floral landscape of her rucked up dress - she bit back a grin. She propped her feet on the sides of the boat.

I intended to give Ella the orgasm she deserved, the orgasm of her life, but I ate her selfishly. I didn't kiss her clit to make her breath quiver. I savoured its swollen resilience against my lips. I collected her copious arousal - guttering along her bum-cleft - back to its liquid source and then upward, not to make her gasp, but to taste her and relish her spilling off my tongue. I didn't suck her and flicker my tongue for the inner clench of her vagina against my lips. I just wanted her delicate flesh in my mouth. And when she clawed my head and muttered, "Oui!" I immediately stopped, not to tease her, or to draw out her pleasure. I stopped because her vulva was prettiest when pulsing for its climax. Her begging for me to finish her off - in English, and then feverish, gabbling French - was unimportant. As irrelevant as the ripples that slip-slopped under the hull of the boat and aped my licking noises.

But when she finally came - crossing hands and feet behind my head to lock me in place - that was for us both. My body became one giant mouth; an alien that fed only on pleasure. She went off like a rocket. I clamped down hard behind my balls to hold myself in, for fear of shooting off with her. She thrashed and howled. I had to grip her buttocks, holding her to my face while I fed, her juices strung off my chin.

My vicarious high was only snuffed when she squealed and shut herself off from me, hands locking over her mound. I lowered her into her rug nest so she could judder out her climax, hands clasped between spread thighs and eyes screwed shut as if in pain.

"F-fucksake." She curled down to me, radiantly post orgasmic. She leant between her knees, cupped my face and sucked herself from my tongue. Then her kisses spread and she cat-lapped my chin and lips with a child's serious playfulness that I felt as happiness, but had no visible proof for. Maybe it was in her deep-bone trembling, her humming, or in the force of her licking. Whatever. My patience had evaporated. I needed to cum. Now. And she knew it. I leaned into her, unfurled her and slid my body up until my cock nudged at her entrance. She pulled her knees apart and back like a sprung trap. She glowered, her lips pressed white. Her head twitched left and right. I sneered. Gritted my teeth.

The sound of an approaching motor-boat jolted us apart.

"I thought this was the only boat?" I jumped off her and grabbed my clothes.

"Except the gardeners', of course." Ella frantically, ineffectually, yanked at my underwear and shorts as my excited cock refused to go back in its cage. She started to laugh and clapped her hand to her mouth.

I pushed her away, sorted my organ and fastened my belt. Ella calmly pulled her dress back down just as the gardener rounded the bend. She reclined indolently and waved to him. He nodded, settled alongside an old willow further along the bank and started clipping back foliage.

There was nothing for it. I sighed out my horn, picked up the oars and rowed.

When we got back to the garden, Ella's Mum was stood at the lakeside, smoking. "Dinner in one hour," she said and blew twin columns of smoke from her nostrils. In one downward glance, she appeared to read our entire afternoon off my face. "The boys are making"—she mimed quotes - "cocktails."

We tied up the boat and plodded up the grass to the terrace. Ella took my hand. She kissed it. "Thank you," she whispered. "That was the best I ever had, I think."

"I did it! I did it! Yes! Yes! Yes! Your best ever! That's your secret need!" I screamed.

Internally, or course. Outside, I twitched a nod

She checked to see if anyone was watching, and I flinched as she patted my crotch. "Fuck, you are still rock hard. I hope you do not accidentally explode before I visit you tonight."

Tonight?

She clocked my confusion. "We cannot share a room, but I will visit you. You still have to discover my secret need, no?"

Funny how one sentence can both pump you up and pull you apart.

#

Part Two

It was the longest evening of my life. The 'cocktails' were all lager-based in honour of "l'anglais", followed by course after course of food that, at any other time, would be amazing. Ella's mum stayed for a drink, wolfed her starter then took a bottle of wine to her room. Ella's dad made an appearance, glowering at me through bushy eyebrows and the worst polite-smile I've ever seen. He piled food on his laptop like a tray, and took it all back to his office.

The boys, at least, were good company, if boisterous. And thick. Thick as my cock every time I caught sight of their fantastic sister, in fact. Ella mucked about with them in a way that looked a lot like an argument, to me, especially in French. She threw enough English snippets to include me but I don't think anyone expected me to contribute. I just watched and listened and dreamed.

Ella may have inherited her mother's 'sulk' but she was, actually, the most un-sulky person I'd ever met. She was positive and strong. At college, for example, she once misunderstood the brief for a project and, two weeks later, pinned up complete nonsense. It was so wrong that - when all the tutors gathered to mark it- she got the bollocking of her life. Of all of our lives. But even as a humiliated tear rolled down her cheek, she asked calm questions of the belligerent Rottweilers and took trembling notes. The next morning, she'd re-painted the lot.

When things turned shitty, I reckoned all those so-called sunny people melted like snowflakes. Ella's seriousness was fortitude. And anyway, I had a resting bitch-face, myself. Ella and I could be soulmates in that respect. Made for each other.

I must have been gawping at her because she flattened her lips at me from across the table, then put her feet on my lap like some kind of pacifier. With a sting of doubt, I considered how many other lovesick puppies she'd probably had at this table, dopily thinking they understood her. I would be tested tonight. And I still had no idea what she 'needed'.

I played with her feet, pleased when I pinked her cheeks. All I could do was give her all the adoration I felt. If that wasn't enough? Fuck it. I'd try again. And again. And again, until someone surgically removed me.

I finally got to their guest room in the small hours. It was like an oven - even with all the windows thrown open to the lake - and panelled in dark wood that creaked like a galleon throughout. The most useless room in which to have a secret 'visitor'. The floor creaked, the bed creaked, all the doors screeched when you opened them. And the ensuite was even worse. The toilet roared like Chewbacca and, as I showered off the day's heat and stress, pipework clanged and screamed.

I buffed myself dry and creaked back into the relative quiet of the bedroom to find the lights mysteriously extinguished. The room was illuminated just by slabs of moonlight. And there, cross legged and glowing on the window seat. A ghost.

A beautiful, naked ghost.

A section of panelling was swung open by the bed. Ella waved vaguely toward it. "The house has many passages," she said. "Umm... for the priests." She offered no further explanation but I wasn't listening anyway. I chucked my towel and strode over to her with the cacophony of a bounding giant. She flicked her foot, watching me approach. Well, watching a part of me approach anyway.

I stood in front of her, hesitating, expecting her to stand so we could kiss, hug. But she stayed put, shaking her head at my semi-erection, even though her eyes and, frankly, presence was slowly nodding it awake. Too slowly though, it seemed. Ella tickled a finger at the underside and it jumped. She snorted and leant forward, pressing her lips to it. When that didn't instantly spring me to attention, she knotted her eyebrows, dipped her head and took the whole lot into her mouth.

I yelped. She gripped my arse, and suckled, looking up at me with an expression somewhere between delight and hostility. As if she was pulling the legs off a spider. In a few charging heartbeats, her mouth was stuffed full of taut bulb, and she gripped my length in both hands. Her eyelids drooped. She started nodding...

That's when I picked her up. I wasn't going to fall for that. Ella was not going to do me and dump me.

She was so light, I could hold her to my lips and kiss her while she kicked her feet to be let down. I lifted her higher, nuzzled my prickly chin at her breasts until she gave me a: "Fucksake."

I dropped her and we were skin on skin, at last. Her nipples at my ribs, my cock at hers. Our hands roamed gently. I stroked the uninterrupted curve of her spine down to her buttocks, while she seemed more interested in my arms and torso and rocked her hips against my thigh. This time, when we kissed it was like our tongues - which had until now been little naked versions of ourselves secretly cavorting in each other's mouths- were just the tip of the iceberg of the rest of us. They writhed, we writhed. Nerves lit up along us like electric eels.

I got the delirious notion that if you took a cross section through Ella and I over the last two years at college you would have: me-skin-air-skin-Ella. Then we found out we wanted each other, but were separated, and our section grew: me-skin-air-water-air-skin-Ella. And now, at last, it was me-skin-skin-Ella. And that would have to do for the moment.

Ella broke off our kiss, and wrapped my arms around her shoulders. She sighed and pivoted in my embrace, not so much turning her back on me as presenting it. I hugged her hard, and dropped my hips to nestle my cock and balls in her bum-cheeks. I let one hand roam over her front, cupping a breast. She shivered. She may have looked calm, almost indifferent, on the surface but her pulse hammered quick as a rabbit's. I kissed her neck with all my heart.

Outside, the lake glittered blackly. Trees swayed in the thick, hot air as if underwater. Ella leant her head on my bicep. I let my exploring hand stroke over her belly and down the front of her hips, sending fingertips over her fur and then under. I stroked the sides of her sex, so soft they almost weren't there. Her breath caught. In the reflection of the swung open windows two sets of us were spot-lit by the full moon. If we were a sculpture, we would be a sinuous sweep of white marble, backed by hacked granite. I caught her staring at us.

"Beauty and the Beast," I said.

"Oui," she whispered, and sighed a long, weary sigh.

My stomach dipped.

Ella bit my arm, hard. "But I am La Bete!" she growled.

The heave of my chest joggled her. "No," I said, dropping to my knees. "I'm the monster." I bit her bottom.

I thought I might get a squeal, but she looked over her shoulder and joggled her rear. I bit her again. She lifted a foot onto the window-seat.

I nuzzled up between her legs and pressed a kiss to her lips, enjoying the kiss of moisture I got in return. I licked her from my lips and kissed her again. Her supporting knee quivered.

"I am never this wet," she croaked, leaning forward on her raised knee, and wrapping arms around it. Her sex curled out toward me.

"Good," I whispered into her.

After the afternoon we'd had, Ella was not about to cum quickly. Fine by me. This could be a little summing up of the day, and an introduction to the main event. An overture. And I was the conductor with my outrageous baton, utterly in control. After a few minutes of my intimate French-kissing (ha), she dropped her raised leg, planted her feet wide and bent over with impressive flexibility. Almost folded in half. She rocked back against my mouth and reached down to my cock where it presented between her knees.

I licked her with a gentle flap of my tongue, and listened carefully to her body, despite - and because of - the sensation of her tender bits in my mouth and her hand on my shaft. I let her push me back further, right onto my back, until she was frogged on my face, rubbing me as if trying to conjure a fire from a single stick.

Her legs trembled and she collapsed forward onto all-fours, leaving my cock bucking. I couldn't tell if her staccato cursing was because she was about to cum, or because she wanted me to, or because she didn't want me to. Only one of those would make me happy. I sucked her clit. She groaned, and shuddered to a halt. I took hold of her hips, ready for blast-off.

But she gasped it off, nuzzled my balls and stroked her cheek at my quivering hardness. At least I think that's what she was doing; all I got was a general sense of being deliciously attacked. She crossed her feet under my head, holding me in place at her slobbering folds, and pecked long, plushy kisses at my cock. Then she unleashed her tongue.

A horribly familiar, tingling heat rolled out from my hips as she lapped along my sensitive underside. She licked me like a mother-cat with a kitten. A kitten that might explode any second.

"Careful," I blurted, but she muffled me. "Careful!" I blurted again.

Ella's laughter rolled over my balls.

She picked up my cock and rubbed me again, swirling her tongue around the tip, building up momentum. Then she dropped her head and my entire universe tumbled into her black-hole. The section line I imagined running through us shrank from me-skin-skin-Ella to straight: me-Ella. No skin, nothing between us but the urgent, urging tug on each other's climax. Live wires jammed together.

My cock and balls pulsed. I clenched my entire body. I licked Ella as if my life depended on it. And it did. I was lost in her, and now I was going to lose her. She was right. I was just another arrogant boy looking for a pretty hole to squirt into. I didn't even get to the fucking. She sucked me with animal grunts as if to say, "Take that, and that, and that." And I saw her again on the swing seat, and I felt the echo of my pride when she'd said I looked into her, as if to the sculpture inside the wood.

I gripped my cock in my fist, holding back the rising sap. Ella hummed and sucked harder. "Don't ever stop looking deeper," she'd said in the secret garden. I'd felt special when she said that. Different. Now it was all gone.

My hips spasmed, I arched off the floor. Ella went still, suckered to me. Ready. I screwed shut my eyes...

And that's when it appeared to me. In that long, frozen moment and in Ella's readiness. I realized her secret need. She needed to know she was loved. In her eagerness to please me, she was showing me her love. But testing me. And I was failing the test. She did not need me to cum right now. She needed me to do what others never did. Put her first. Show my love with my sacrifice.

I sighed, long, shuddering and deep, right from my balls. The pressure of my orgasm steamed out with my breath like a flipped safety-valve. My pulses ebbed. My blood cooled. To steel.

Confused, Ella launched at me again, but I'd disconnected my cock. Let her play with it. It could be her toy. She couldn't touch me. I flickered my tongue at her clit, slid a finger into her hole and wrapped an arm around her hips. I even laughed; a rumble right into her sex.

Her body quaked above me; all co-ordination on my cock was lost. She stopped rubbing, bracing herself on both arms and whining with my end lodged in her mouth. I kept up my pace, slid another finger into her...

Her orgasm didn't explode, it leaked out. Ella squeaked on my cock with wrenched nasal breaths. She ground hard on my mouth and hand, and then flopped off me onto her side. Foetal, curled over her hands and shaking.

I picked her up, placed her on the window seat, then kissed her and held her while she trembled. She blinked at me, owl-like in the moonlight that seemed to make everything clearer than day. A smile tugged at her lips.

That's when I pushed her knees apart and back, and sank my cock in to the hilt.

There was no disapproval from her this time. No scowl or sulk. She kissed my chest and arms as if allowing herself to give over to me. As if she trusted me. All tension left her limbs. I took her feet and spread her legs wide as bird's wings. I fucked calmly, patiently. Concentrating on each stroke, sliding completely out and completely in, focusing my angle wherever I caused a whimper. Unstoppable.

In minutes, she wrapped her arms around my head and her legs around my back and moaned into my neck. I pushed harder and faster, chasing the tail of her last orgasm, reaching out to grab it. Haul it back. Her jaw gaped, and each thrust plunged a little cry out of her. I doubled up my efforts again.

"F-fuck," she panted, her voice Daleked by my pile-driving. "F-fuck. Sake!" she came again, or was it the same orgasm, flared back into life? I dunno. Her fingernails dug into my back. She clung onto me like a baby monkey. Eyes screwed tight, curled into me.

'Done,' I thought, as she slumped and I ground at her embers. She released me and I slid out of her, leaving her rag-doll floppy, hair all over her face, the back of her hand trying to conceal a dreamy smile. I honestly thought I'd completed my task. I sat back in the seat, and regarded my handiwork, wet cock and balls chilling in the lake breeze. Then she turned over onto her front.

"More," she said.

Whatever my lady desired. I straddled her bottom and slid back in. Ella sighed like she was getting into a hot bath, and stirred her hips.

"Cum in me," she said quietly. "I want it."

Yeah, I didn't believe that. I just rocked in and out, enjoying the plump-plump-plump of her bum cheeks on my front, building up my pace again. I don't think she realised I saw, but after a few minutes, she drooped her head to the backs of her hands, and she smirked. A small but lovely, "Aren't I lucky?" smug kind of smirk. I took pride in that.

She lifted her rear and spread her knees. I grasped her hips, fucking at full pelt now. Her hands clawed at the seat. Time, measured only by the slap of our skin, melted away. Every now and then Ella looked over her shoulder and wriggled her hips to work at me, but each time she lost control, and gave back over to me.

Her hole spasmed and she gabbled under her breath in French. She gathered herself, and pushed me back in the seat until she was sat on my lap. She bounced on my cock, impaling herself while my hands played across her front.