Ben complied with Marcie’s instruction, rising to his feet between her stocking-wrapped knees as she set the cards away and sat forward on the sofa. He realised belatedly that perhaps he hadn’t done such a good job of keeping his genitals hidden under his loose grey boxer shorts after all. His erection was sticking down under their fabric currently, and Ben looked down to see that the red tip of his penis was poking out even now as its turgid pressure strained forwards. Marcie seemed unconcerned as she put her hands over his at the waistband of his shorts, and then took over from him as she pulled them down in a business-like way. She lowered them just a little, below the bones of his hips, exposing his pubic hair, then scooped her hand under his member as she pulled the pants’ elastic out. Ben gasped with pleasure as he felt her fingers touch him, holding him confidently as she swiftly turned his erection around so that it poked upwards instead now.

“There he is!” she said brightly as she let go, leaving his long thick penis to stand upright above the edge of his shorts on its own, supported just by Ben’s tense pressure. He couldn’t help himself from letting it stick out towards Marcie’s face now, its red glossy glans bobbing about on the end of its vein-knotted stem, as his foreskin had long since peeled back. Marcie diligently tugged his boxer shorts down further though, letting them fall to the floor on their own once they were over his muscular thighs. But even then, Marcie did not lean back, instead placing her palms flat against the front of Ben’s hips to frame his erection between her stretched thumbs and forefingers.

Ben was ready to step back a little, aware that it may not be pleasant for Marcie to be so close to his penis when he’d not washed it since the gym. He could also see it had leaked a little lubricating fluid in his anticipation during their game. Yet she seemed to be strangely attracted rather than repelled as she glanced up and asked, “Come closer,” before dropping her gaze to his head again as she added quietly, as if to herself, “I won’t bite.”

Ben guessed what she intended then as he watched her bring her nose forwards to brush his head, or his frenulum specifically, then she extended her tongue to lick it up his shaft. In his arousal, he twitched involuntarily at her wet touch, making her giggle, and then she closed one hand around the base of his shaft and promptly put her mouth over his head. He groaned as he twitched again, feeling her warm slippery lips or tongue stroking against his most sensitive parts, but she was evidently ready for his spasm as she held him firmly yet gently inside her wet mouth.

“Marcie, don’t!” he struggled to say, “You don’t have to do this.”

She leant back, making a kind of subtle popping noise as her sucking lips came away from him. Ben could feel the sudden cool air on his head, now wet with her saliva, and that too felt thrilling. But Marcie was still gripping him with one hand as she looked hopefully up into his eyes. “I know I don’t have to,” she said, her smiling lips glistening as she added, “But I’d like to. It’s not just payback for what you did for me last night either. I enjoy this too. It’s exciting, and I like tasting you. But I bet you’d be more comfortable if you sat back down, wouldn’t you?” Her hands were already guiding him as he moved around Marcie’s knee and put his naked buttocks down on the sofa’s rough throw. “That’s it, sink back, let yourself relax. I can do the work now,” she assured him, still sitting at the other end of the sofa, naked from the waist up.

But she was already rising onto one stocking-clad knee, still in her tight boots of course, making her breasts swing forwards pendulously under their heavy weight, his silver hammer hanging down between them on her chain. She’d lowered her other knee to the floor, and now she was on her elbows over Ben’s torso, brushing one breast against his thigh, smiling up at him from her behind glasses and her cloud of hair even as she still gripped his penis, holding it upright. Then Ben saw her head tip forwards as he felt her warm mouth close over his penis again. He thought she may have been pulling down on his shaft, making his head strain upwards as she sucked it and, as he guessed from the explosive sensations, rolled her tongue around it. Her other hand was resting on his chest, her nails scrabbling across his pectoral muscles over his own small nipples. Ben held her hand there, over his pounding heart, while he reached down with his other hand to push his fingers through her hair, finding her ear to stroke as she slipped and softly chewed around the tumescent head of his penis with small lip-smacking noises.

He was breathing heavily with the extremely exciting sensations that Marcie was giving him, his chest heaving up and down beneath their gripped hands, but he was aware that he was not yet tipping over towards his orgasm. Rather, he deliberately relaxed, pushing himself back into the sofa and wilfully keeping still, knowing that Marcie wouldn’t thank him for trying to thrust or push himself further down her throat. He looked down, seeing her spreading hair obscure her face and his own upright penis, but little else was visible apart from her broad bottom, still covered by her ivory knickers, rising into the air somewhere near his ankles at the far end of the sofa. He watched her head bobbing about, as he kept breathing heavily yet steadily, feeling the intense thrill of the divine tickling stimulation that her attention to his hidden manhood gave. After a short while though, Marcie broke off, panting heavily herself to look up at him.

“Is it working? Am I doing it right?” she asked, a little anxiously.

“It’s amazing,” Ben confirmed as his chest heaved, “You’re doing an amazing job!” But he found himself sitting up and reaching out to pull her up toward him too. He enjoyed seeing her rise to her knees on the edge of the sofa as she crawled into his arms, her naked breasts swinging with the silver pendant between them, her nipples pointing down. Ben raised his fingers to touch her chest gently, brushing the dusky corona of crinkled skin around her prominent teat as she brought her lips to his. He opened his mouth to hers, imagining her lips and tongue around his stinking manhood just moments ago as they now pressed against his. He thought he could taste a little of himself there, as well as the lingering fruity perfume of the wine that they had been sharing.

Marcie squirmed over his body, pressing her soft breasts to his reclining chest now, brushing his thighs and knees with the texture of her stockings and the hard edge of the boots that she still wore, and still they kept hungrily kissing. But eventually they broke apart, and Marcie looked down into his face with warmth but also perhaps a searching need. Ben found himself asking, perhaps prompted by the tastes in her mouth, “Would you like a sip more wine?”

“Hmm, do you think my mouth is dirty?” Marcie asked, pulling back a little to give him a sly smirk, even as she kept pushing her naked skin to his, cuddling against him.

“No,” Ben assured her, “It’s wonderful, kissing you.”

“But you can taste your pungent savoury flavour there, yes?”

“Erm, I can,” Ben admitted, “It’s no problem. But are you sure you don’t mind, putting it in your mouth like that, I mean?”

Marcie had obviously decided to take his suggestion to have a drink seriously anyway as she pushed herself up to reach around for her wine. Ben let himself relish the sight of her half-naked body, twisting and stretching as he remained recumbent, her breasts hanging heavily from her chest, beneath the silver pendant that rested in her wide cleavage, whilst he reclined against the sofa with his full erection, topped by its glossy head, laid out between them. Marcie took her sip of wine and now turned back to lean over him again, languidly brushing her nipples and breasts against his chest to his further excitement even as she still held her glass of wine.

“No, I don’t mind, Ben,” she finally confirmed patiently, “I enjoy it, just like you said you enjoyed eating me. Do I have a taste too, down there, I wonder?”

Ben felt a little awkward, thinking back to the vivid experience of her labia and clitoris in his mouth, as he guiltily admitted, “Aye, there’s your body’s special fragrance, private, intimate and arousing. It’s musky, animal, but subtle, not really like anything else. But there’s a taste too, like a spiced meal maybe, very subtle too, like meat, well, to be honest, like lamb and cumin specifically.”

“Holy Mary! That’s actually me you’re tasting, isn’t it?” Marcie exclaimed in wide-eyed fascination as she hung over him, “That’s my flesh you’ve savoured, for real. I always thought humans tasted like pork, but why not lamb’s greasy rich meat? There’s a lot of deep religious symbolism around the sacrificial lamb too.”

“Is that okay?” Ben asked anxiously, clarifying, “I don’t really want to eat you, and it’s not off-putting. The opposite, it’s a huge turn-on, tasting you as well as and touching you, so intimately. It’s like I found your secret fragrance, when I kissed your Vixen. I cherish the memory.”

“Well, I cherish your manly vigour,” Marcie reassured him, “I’m thrilled and excited to be turning you on like that too, to be in a place of profound trust where you’ll let me take you in my mouth. And I want to taste your semen too, properly. I want to make you spill the whole load in my mouth, as I think they say. Can you let yourself do that for me?”

“Of course. If you’d just carried on, it would have happened,” he confirmed, his rigid arousal still twitching in anticipation at her words.

“Do you want a sip of wine too?” she asked, seemingly changing the subject as she took a gulp from her glass for herself.

“Aye, okay,” Ben agreed, then saw what she had in mind she set the glass aside and leaned forwards across him, lips pursed closed and cheeks bulging even as she smiled impishly. He carefully put his mouth to hers, pushing his fingers through her hair to cradle the back of her head as he pressed his parted lips firmly to hers, then he felt a trickle of cold liquid squeezing into his mouth as she released her own lips. He sucked eagerly, enjoying the sharp acidity of the fruity booze as it slipped down his throat, even whilst he pushed his tongue forward to play with hers as their mouths opened wider. He felt a little of the wine escaping to dribble down his chin and then drip onto his chest as their kiss became more careless, but it didn’t seem to matter as Marcie pulled her head back again, giving him a huge grin as he laughed lightly and said, “Thank you. That was nice.”

“Can I do anything else to make it nicer for you, while I finish off the fellatio I mean?” She asked, seemingly a little embarrassed to be speaking so bluntly, even as she let one hand rest gently on his long thick shaft. She explained, “I’m not really sure what I’m doing, so any tips or feedback would be very welcome.”

“Erm, could I see you more?” Ben asked hesitantly. When she asked him what he meant, he tried to explain, “It felt amazing, but I could only see your hair. Could you maybe turn around a bit, so I can see your face a little maybe, and your beautiful body? It would be nice to see Roddie actually in your mouth, too,” he admitted guiltily.

“Hmm, I’m not sure,” Marcie thought, taking his suggestion seriously, “I could maybe go sideways, kneeling on the rug, but then I wouldn’t feel so close to you.”

“Or you could turn right around, to put your knees up here, at my end of the sofa,” Ben prompted.

“Oh, I see what you’re thinking of now!” Marcie said, smiling broadly as she dug her fingers into the side of his chest to give him a rough tickle. “You’re thinking of sixty-nine, aren’t you, you cheeky boy?”

“Aye, maybe, if you could take your knickers off too,” Ben admitted, wondering what she really thought of the possibility.

“Oh, I can take them off,” Marcie agreed with syrupy reassurance, already leaning against him and wriggling as she put her hands to her hips, “Showing Vixen off even while I’m still in my boots, which you so lovingly polished. Yes, that’s very cheeky too, isn’t it?” she said with a sparkling smile, even as she was writhing about to get her knickers over her bottom and down her thighs, over her stockings. Ben could see the edge of her bare buttocks now as she rose to her knees again, but nothing else, yet he still felt exciting to think of her vulva now being exposed just above his penis.

“So you’ll let me kiss Vixen, while you’re sucking Roddie?” Ben asked eagerly.

“No, Ben, I’m sorry, but I can’t ask you to do that,” Marcie said sadly but firmly as she arched backwards, pulling her knickers off her boots as her feet waved in the air, “I don’t want you getting breathless again, and I don’t think it would really work that well anyway. Neither of us would be able to concentrate on doing a very good job with the other trying to blow their mind with arousal, or blow something anyway. Then one of us would finish first, would come, but would probably feel like they have to carry on with their mouth for the other one, even when they just want to relax into post-orgasmic bliss. No, you mustn’t try to lick me if I put Vixen up by your head. But I can finish working on you very well in that position, and you can see what I’m doing better, I think.”

So Marcie got to her feet, carefully avoiding her wineglass, and Ben got to see her clearly at last, naked except for her stockings and boots. Her bushy vulva and beautiful breasts with their stretched dusky pink areolae seemed exposed just for him as she stood above his own recumbent naked body, her hourglass figure clear as she took a delicate step. His eyes scanned down from her generously endowed chest, passed her narrow waist and trim stomach, to her wide hips and strong thighs, tapering away into the dramatic fishnet and soft leather. Then he looked up into her broad smiling lips and lowered eyes with their dark lashes under her glasses as she manoeuvred herself above him, lifting one leg to deliberately place her knee on the edge of the sofa by his head as she leant forwards onto her elbows down by his knees.

He looked up now to see her vulva directly above his face, parted so that he could see her soft inner lips in the shadows between her long furry outer labia, reaching up between her thighs to the crease of her buttocks. Just the sight of her most intimate feminine place was stimulating to him as she positioned her stocking-covered knees firmly beside his head, her boots sticking out somewhere behind him. Then he looked down to see her breasts hanging just above his stomach, stretched into deep U-shaped curves by their weight, their pointed tips formed by her now protuberant areolae, with her downward-pointing nipples at their nadir. Between them hung his hammer pendant, swaying with her breasts, and beyond them at this strange angle, he could see Marcie’s chin, nose and lips, now parting as she held his thick erection up in her hand.

He saw his swollen crimson head touch her lower lip as her mouth hung open, and then it disappeared from his sight as the sensations of her warm wet lips closed around him. She must have been sucking firmly as she rolled her tongue around his head, pushing down firmly on his shaft again, as he felt a surge in the tingling pleasure. He panted heavily, throwing his head back and seeing Marcie’s vulva again. In that instant, he saw it all in awestruck wonder - the wide dark curls of her pubic hair, the creases of her parted lips and the edge of her buttocks, and the darker short crease that was the mouth of her vagina. He realised how close he was to that magical place that she’d confirmed was the origin of the world, and his nostrils had now detected the clear scent of her there, making him dizzy in his arousal, her intimate musky aroma sparking some profound reaction within the fires of his core being.

He spasmed, making his already hard penis jerk to a new rigidity as the first pulse of his hot semen shot from him. He heard Marcie grunt, then distinctly felt her tongue roughly pressing on his head as her mouth held him firmly. With her hand still pushing down on the base of his shaft, maybe struggling to bend it down a little, she now wrapped her fingers firmly around his scrotum, gripping him. He felt one finger reaching underneath, pressing into the crease of his own buttocks somewhere between his perineum and his anus. And suddenly the next huge spurt of his orgasm was coming with an unexpectedly powerful surge.

“Fuck! Marcie!” he found himself exclaiming as she kept sucking and the pulses kept coming, wave after wave, still rolling on as he panted in sublime satisfaction.

He stared up at her in mind-numbing bliss, aware of her solid thighs rising beside his head, her smooth stomach stretching over him, and her furry vulva parted in the shadows above him. In that moment of his release, the literal expression of masculine essence, the pushing out of his life-giving sperm, he felt she was indeed the supreme goddess, or the eternal queen of the restful night, calmly receiving his wet yet fiery seed. Marcie was the living feminine avatar of the fertile heavens that arched over him, enveloping his world in her comforting love from horizon to horizon.

He wanted to reach up, to push his head between her thighs and bury his face in that sacred feminine space, to kiss her labia, to lap at her vagina and to feel her ticklish hairs on his face, breathing in that heady fragrance of her femininity. Yet as his orgasm subsided he felt unable to move, paralysed by the exhaustion of his ejaculation. He remembered too that Marcie had asked him not to try giving her cunnilingus while she hung over him, yet he still wanted to share his overwhelming affection and absolute love for her in some way. So even as she still patiently sucked on the last twitches of his full yet already softening erection, which he knew to be oozing a few last dribbles, he begged, “Marcie, let me kiss you.”

Marcie obviously heard as she immediately began moving around. Ben heard a small slurping sound and glanced down to see his still engorged penis fall from Marcie’s mouth. Using her hand that had been wrapped around his shaft and scrotum, she was now laying his manhood out gently on his lower torso, even whilst she straightened one leg, sliding her knee off the sofa to put her boot to the floor. She pushed herself up on her hands, glancing down at Ben briefly to give him a strange upside-down smile across her swaying pendulous breasts, before rising on one leg and pivoting to lift her other leg over his head.

She did not pause before coming back down onto the sofa, putting her elbows beside Ben’s chest as she laid her legs out beside his. He relished the sensation of her warm smooth skin against his, from their thighs, past their hips with their sensitive pubic areas, to their chests and arms, Marcie’s soft breasts squashed to Ben’s ribs. But she was already putting her smiling lips to his, seeming pleased with herself as she let her ticklish hair fall against his face and opened her mouth to receive his eager tongue.

He kissed her with a hunger that defied his body’s exhaustion, enthusiastically licking and sucking her tongue, just as she had licked and sucked his firm penis only moments earlier. He relished the distinctive taste of his semen that still lingered in her mouth as he held her jaw gently in his hands, trying to express his love and gratitude through the tender action of his passionate kiss.

They were both panting as Marcie pulled her head back, saying, “Was that nice then? It seemed to work. I was worried you were going to slip for a moment,” she said quietly, so close that Ben felt her breath in his open mouth as he let his hands stroke down her neck then across her shoulders. Yet he listened eagerly as she chattered on, “You gave a big twitch when you started coming. You nearly popped out, and I don’t know where your love-snot would have ended up then. Up my nose, maybe, or across my glasses and in my hair! It seemed to really shoot out, like I’d squeezed a carton of juice too hard. Or it would be a milkshake, I guess, sweet and creamy thick banana gloop squirting up the straw to the back of my throat! Could you taste it too, when we kissed? Do you mind?”

“No,” Ben reassured her, a little surprised at her crude honesty, “I tasted it, sure. But it’s good. It’s sexy, in a way.”

“Maybe I should have held it in my mouth,” Marcie said as they cuddled, a wicked twinkle in her eyes again, “I could have shared it with you like we did with the wine. Oh, but it really did feel sexy, having you there, being able to eat Roddie up. Thank you for letting me do it.”

“No, thank you, Marcie, really. It’s you who’s been so sexy. You’ve made it really exciting, for me, tonight. When you were over me, when you let me come, it was like you were a divine being, like your body was the whole night sky.”

“You make me sound like Nut, the Egyptian goddess,” Marcie remarked, as she pulled back to give Ben a sceptical look, “But don’t go putting me on a pedestal or making me a plaster saint. I’m just polite little Marcie Tabone from Manchester. You know that really, don’t you? I’m your girlfriend and we do nice things together. I’m not your saviour, and you’re not my self-abasing votary.”

“I know that,” Ben reassured her, embracing her to him again, “But you’re wonderful too, helping me find wonders, in a new space, giving me a hopeful future. And talking of nice things, can I do something nice for you now?”

“Girls might be different from boys, you know, Ben,” Marcie explained thoughtfully, obviously quite happy to move on from her strict warning to him as she cuddled against him, “I’ve had a nice time already. I’ve not had an orgasm, but you should know that I don’t really need to. I don’t have that urge that maybe you feel, of a pressure building that has to be released by spurting something out. It really doesn’t matter if we don’t both come together every time.”

“But would you like to?” Ben asked.

“Yes,” Marcie admitted, leaning back to look down at him, “It is certainly a pleasant feeling! But you don’t need to do anything to try and make it work for me. I can do it myself, if I just pop to get a nice reliable toy. Is that okay?” Ben assured her it was, and she went on planning as she squeezed herself against him, “I could do it right here on the sofa. It feels cosier than a chilly bed right now. But maybe you could put another CD on, maybe that Portishead again?”

Ben hadn’t really noticed when the music had stopped, but he was happy to agree to find what might have been her favourite album. He was slow to rise though, when Marcie pushed herself to her feet and made a quick exit to the bedroom, still delightfully naked apart from her stockings and boots. Then he was still down by the machine, naked himself, his limp penis hanging down as he crouched on his heels, as Marcie came back into the room behind him. “Skip to track eight,” Marcie suggested as she collapsed back onto the sofa with a sigh.

As the familiar music started, Ben turned to see her sitting upright, her knees together, holding the purple rabbit that he’d seen before across them. She smiled warmly at him as he rose to his feet and joined her, seemingly unselfconscious in her near nudity, despite her previous trepidation about exposing her breasts to him. Ben was glad that she’d passed beyond that shyness, which she’d seemingly felt on their first nights of intimacy together, as she held out her arm to him, raising her breast a little as its curve swept down from her armpit.

He fell onto the sofa beside her, snuggling up to her as she held up her sex toy. “Did you see this one?” she asked, and Ben admitted he had. She pressed a button on it to make the shaft wriggle with a robotic noise and she giggled before explaining, “That can be a bit awkward, but I can just use this bit on its own very comfortably,” she added, stopping the gyrating rod but starting the vibrating ears.

“So will you do that, now?” Ben asked with genuine curiosity.

“That’s the idea. Just let me get a bit of lube on it and then get comfortable,” she replied. Ben saw then she’d also brought the old tube of K-Y gel and stashed it beside her on the sofa. She wriggled around even as she popped the cap off and squirted a generous slug of it over the rabbit’s ears, reminding him a little of what she’d done for him on their first night. She ended up tucked beneath his arm, nestled firmly against his chest, as she spread her stocking-covered knees wide, both hands squeezed between her thighs.

Ben could just see the way she parted her lips with one hand and brought the vibrating ears to her clitoris, holding the dildo upside-down as he thought, its shaft sticking out uselessly on top. He wondered then about the pointlessness of his own penis too as she made small grunting noises, pushing herself down and shuffling about to get more comfortable. He was eager to be attentive and close to her even if his contribution now was redundant, as he held her to him tenderly, burying his nose in her hair while he cautiously raised his hands to her breasts, gently brushing her nipples.

He was aware that she was breathing more heavily now as the low hum of her vibrator continued. As he brushed one hand gently up and down her body, from her collarbone over her nearer breast to her stomach and the edge of her pubic fur, he cupped her far breast with the other hand, his arm reaching around her. He felt her soft, thin skin and the crinkled texture of her areola, then carefully pinched her proud nipple between his finger and thumb, inhaling the fragrance of her hair deeply before putting his lips tenderly to her hot forehead. Despite his own flaccid and emptied state, he felt himself distantly aroused as he heard Marcie sigh a long “ooh,” and then make quicker “aah” sounds as she panted.

He put his more freely moving hand to her jaw, brushing her neck and then her lips. To his surprise, she moved her mouth quickly to bite down hard on the pad of his thumb. He held his hand there despite the pain, cupping her chin as his other hand still held her breast carefully, whilst she made quick wet panting breaths through her nose, muffled low repetitive sounds still coming from further down her throat.

Suddenly she released his hand and gave a high cry, drew another sharp breath, held it, then blew it out with a long groan, murmuring the now familiar, “Qaddisa Marija!”

But the vibrator was still going, Ben noticed. He kissed her forehead again, and he heard her quietly ask, “Oh Ben, hold me! I want to keep going.”

So Ben tried to push himself more firmly up against her, from his hip and thigh where they touched hers to his chest and his damp armpit against her shoulder. He held her tight, both hands once again cradling her shuddering breasts as she sank deeper into her self-absorbed bliss. Her panted breath was quickening again as she let the small “aah” sounds emerge, then she seemed to make an almost weeping cry of desperation, before grunting out a sudden heartfelt exclamation, “Ħaqq Alla! There it is, oh yes!”

The vibrator promptly stopped as Marcie seemed to go limp in his arms. Her own arm flopped to one side as her hand tossed the sex toy carelessly aside onto the sofa, before she lifted it to grip his hand, still at her breast. Ben noted her other hand was still resting on her vulva, and he moved his free hand down to cover it there. He kissed her forehead again, noticing how it was now slick with sweat, plastering her loose hairs to her tan skin.

“I’m glad I could be with you for that,” he said quietly, adding sincerely, “I love you, Marcie.”

“Oh, Ben. Thank you,” she replied dreamily, “I was being selfish, wasn’t I? But it’s nice. I feel so relaxed with you, it’s like I can just let go without worrying. Oh! I didn’t hurt you did I? Nice girls don’t bite, I’m sure.”

“It was nothing,” Ben said dismissively, though his hand did still ache a bit, “I’m glad you felt relaxed. And it’s hardly selfish, after everything you’ve done for me this evening.”

“Hey, it’s like I said, we do fun things together, right?” she reminded him, adding seriously, “And I love you too by the way. You do know that, don’t you?”

“Aye, we’re good,” Ben agreed, cuddling up to her, burying his nose in her hair again as he squeezed his hand over hers as it rested on her sensitive Vixen. As he thought of how close he felt to her, in his heart as well as physically, he suddenly thought again of her Nanna, perhaps because they’d spoken of her imagining they were already like a married couple. That prompted him to ask, “But do you need to teach me a little more Maltese? You say things sometimes, and I’m not sure what they mean.”

“You mean my blasphemous exclamations?” Marcie asked, “I don’t think they mean much when I say them, apart from ‘Oh wow!’ But what do I say, ‘Holy Mary?’ That’s from the Roman Catholic Hail Mary, do you know it? Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners. In Maltese that’s ‘Qaddisa Marija, Omm Alla, itlob għalina midinbin.’ I must have repeated the whole thing hundreds of times as a girl.”

“Maybe you’d better write it down, so I can learn it,” Ben suggested, adding hastily, “But not now though.”

“Hey, you’re not about to convert to Catholicism on me, are you?” Marcie challenged, twisting around to look up at him.

“No, that’s not why I swapped Mjölnir for your cross. I’ve got another goddess anyway, my white witch, the queen of the night,” and he was glad Marcie chuckled with him as he teased her, even though it was still half true. He went on, “But I’m curious, I guess. And what’s that other thing you say, ‘Ħaqq Alla?’ Is that about God too?”

“Oh, don’t repeat that! It means ‘Damn God,’ or worse, like, ‘Fuck God,’ I guess. Your pronunciation was good, ‘Ħaqq Alla,’” she repeated for him carefully, before going on, “But it’s a very bad thing to say. I must have picked up from bigger Maltese kids in Sunday School sometime when I was young, and I guess it got lodged deeply, as swear words do.”

“Well, maybe it’s not so wrong, if I feel saved through you, like I said before, with your Vixen as my portal to a magical future, the path of rebirth, on that hero’s journey. So maybe if Jesus is God’s son, and he was born through Mary’s vagina, then you’re right to invoke her. Christians must believe that God’s fuck saved us all.”

Marcie laughed, making her body shake beneath his hands, then said, “I’m not sure you’ve got that right at all! You can reimagine Lewis’s Narnia characters, but I don’t think you can rewrite the Christian gospel like that. Saying that God actually copulated with Mary, that he’d emitted sperm for her, would definitely be a heresy.”

“Aye, maybe I’m just talking bollocks, God’s own bollocks,” Ben admitted, making her laugh again.

“Come on, we’re both probably past it,” she said, lifting his hands off her and shifting into a more upright position beside him. She explained, “We need to get into bed, to sleep, and I don’t know about you, but I’ve got to sort myself out a bit before then.”

With that, Ben finally got around to offer to unlace her boots, which Marcie jokingly suspected was his way of revving himself up again, until he drew attention to his limp penis, exhausted by her work on him. Once she’d laughed lightly at that, she pushed him around, encouraging him to lift one foot onto the sofa beside her hip, so that she could provocatively push the sole of her boot against his groin. Despite remaining literally unaroused, his manhood flaccid as it rested against the soft leather, Ben enjoyed giving his attention to Marcie in this position, reclining with her naked torso exposed opposite him. He struggled to keep his concentration on her laces as his gaze kept wandering to the soft relaxed mounds of her breasts and the long shadowy crease of her vulva, yet he still made swift progress. Once he’d loosened the last eyelets, slipped her boot off and then dropped it to the floor, Marcie lifted her damp stocking-clad foot over his knee to squeeze it against his hip. At that moment Ben caught a glimpse of her inner tawny pink lips, buried in her damply matted fur, parted and glistening before him. But then she lifted her other foot to his groin, forcing Ben to quickly move his scrotum and penis to save them from being squashed.

As soon as he’d unlaced and removed her second boot, Marcie swung both of her legs around, putting one foot on the floor as she stuck her other leg out straight. She apologised that removing the stockings wasn’t an appealing sight as the rubberised hold-up band clung to her thigh even while she worked it down, yet Ben admitted he quite enjoyed watching her do this, whilst noticing the creased red mark on her skin that the stocking’s pressure had left. Thinking of this and her slightly sweaty feet, he said that he hoped she hadn’t been suffering in her boots and stockings while he’d been having his fun, but she dismissed his worries, reassuring him that she’d have said if she’d been uncomfortable.

Then she was finally as naked as he was, standing up now to gather up her clothes, with just her silver chain around her neck. Though he’d have happily just kept watching her move around like this, Ben followed her example, rising to his feet to tidy the wineglasses away and pick up his own long-discarded clothes. He hung his jeans over the back of a chair, then followed Marcie through to the bathroom to put the rest into the laundry basket. She’d already started the shower, but turned towards him briefly to stretch up and give him a peck on his lips. As she wriggled away before he could start cuddling her again, he told her that he would pop through to the bedroom to move the airer and put some fresh water by the bed.

He came back just in time to see her glistening body stepping from the bath, giving him the chance to scoop up her towel and pass it to her. He moved around her to restart the shower, stepping into the bathtub himself. While he waited for the water’s temperature to stabilise, he tried to avoid staring as she towelled herself down. Still, he noticed her pushing her breasts up as she dried beneath them, then squatting to part her thighs as she rubbed down her vulva and buttocks. He rubbed his own wet body down vigorously, making a soapy lather with his shower gel, paying special attention to his tender penis as he popped its head out to rinse it thoroughly.

He saw that Marcie was watching him as he washed himself while she now sat on the toilet, wrapped in her towel, braiding her hair as she had done yesterday. She smiled when she caught his eye, and he felt more at ease for noticing her, guessing that it was all right to have been observing the way that her naked body moved in the bathroom, if she were now doing the same for him. Her towel remained firmly secured under armpits tonight though as she finished her plait, then she moved to the basin to brush her teeth as Ben stopped the shower, before he stepped out to begin drying himself. She seemed unconcerned when he hung his towel up and stood naked beside her to brush his own teeth, giving him another twinkling smile around her toothbrush as she looked up at him.

Once she finished and rinsed her mouth out, she said that she was going to put her nightdress on, explaining that she still felt a bit funny about waking up in the night with nothing on, and hoping that he didn’t mind. Ben tried to say that it was okay, that it was fine, around his foamy mouthful of toothpaste. She gave him a beaming smile again, then tenderly stroked her hand down his naked hip, giving his bottom a firm squeeze before she turned away, unwrapped herself from her towel, then quickly left the bathroom. As she moved, Ben couldn’t help but notice her breasts swaying with her nipples standing proud and, once her back was to him, her shower-warmed pink bottom jiggling with her small swift steps.

Ben reflected on his good fortune as he finished his teeth then took his brown inhaler. He walked through Marcie’s flat naked, turning the lights off as he went, feeling a sense of belonging in this space now, no doubt helped by yet another evening of sexual gratification with the wonderfully kind and feminine Marcie, which he could still feel as a sensitive tingling in his well-used clean penis and a slight ache in his hard-working testicles. As he came into the bedroom and saw her curled up under the duvet in her white nightdress, her glasses already off, he felt a surge of loving affection for her.

He quietly slipped into bed beside her and clicked out his lamp, sending the room into a deep gloom, with just a hint of streetlights’ glow leaking around the curtains. Hoping she’d never tire of his attention, he snuggled up behind Marcie, pressing his hips to her buttocks as he wrapped his arm around her to rest his hand on the soft warm cotton that covered her pillowy breast. “Good night,” he whispered.

“Hmm, yes it was, wasn’t it?” Marcie murmured back, and he could hear the teasing smirk of her deliberate misinterpretation in her sleepy voice. Then she put her small hand over his at her breast, as she had on the sofa earlier, squeezing it even as he held her, and added, “I love you, Ben. Body and soul.”

Ben wasn’t sure if she meant she loved his body and soul, or if her love was from her body and soul, or even if she knew herself. “I love you too, my white witch, my queen of the night.”

“Hmm, sweet dreams,” she replied with contentment.