After a deeply restful sleep for the remainder of the night, Ben was gently woken a while after dawn by the sounds of Marcie moving around the bedroom. When he opened his eyes to see her still in her nightdress, placing a mug of tea beside the bed, he murmured sincere thanks.

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” Marcie said apologetically, “But if you are awake now, did you want to share a cup of tea in bed? It’s nice not having to rush off anywhere.” As Ben agreed, stretching luxuriantly against the crumpled sheets, Marcie moved back around the bed to drop off her own mug and open just one corner of the curtains, letting some daylight in through the gauze drapes without revealing their bed to passers-by. She then slipped back under the duvet, wriggling towards Ben to lie close to him, face to face on their sides. As she did so, she grasped his shoulder, then ran her hand across his naked chest and down his belly to find his penis, grasping it when she found it already erect.

“It’s often that way, first thing,” Ben said, feeling a little ashamed, yet also grateful for Marcie’s touch, as he tried to explain, “But it’s lovely to feel your hand on it. Can you feel it’s getting harder already? I’m just sorry I’m not very clean.”

“Hey, don’t apologise,” Marcie responded in a kind, low voice, “I know what state we got each other into last night. I’m a bit manky down below myself, and a little tender, in a nice way. But do you want me to carry on? That’s the only important thing you need to trouble yourself with right now.”

“I do,” Ben admitted, pushing the duvet back so that he could see Marcie’s delicate hand around the thick base of his fleshy manhood, already fully rigid, its curved shaft with its bulging veins tapering towards its exposed and somewhat pungent head. He felt he was being selfish though, so he asked, “But what can I do for you?”

Marcie reassured him, “There’s nothing. Just relax and enjoy the moment. There’s no rush, and you can let yourself come only when you want to, if you want to at all. Like I said, I feel a tiny bit sore myself. No, please don’t worry, it’s all fine, just a bit of tingling warm sensitivity from all our action. It’s quite nice really, like aching muscles after a hard workout, but it does mean I don’t want more activity down there right now.”

She’d been slowly rubbing her loose hand up and down Ben’s shaft as she’d explained herself, firmly shutting down his attempted interruption to apologise and offer attentive sympathy. However, Ben also felt some of that sensitivity himself, and wasn’t sure if could enjoy even Marcie’s delicate touch on his head if she worked her way up any higher. So he said, “I think I know what you mean. I feel tender too. I really do want you to carry on, but maybe with some gel, or some saliva, to keep it really slippery, if that’s okay?”

“Of course!” Marcie assured him, adding, “And if it’s okay with you, let’s work out if I can’t make it more comfortable for both of us while I’m playing.” Ben found himself eagerly following her suggestions and instructions, fully awake now, as energised and enthusiastic as he was aroused.

So once Marcie had found the gel and they’d both had big gulps of their tea, they ended up with Marcie sitting upright, still in her nightdress, her back leaning against the pillows on the headboard, her knees up and her feet planted wide apart. Meanwhile Ben was lying nude below her, his head on the rolled-up duvet toward the foot of the bed, his own legs tucked under her bare thighs, with his lewd erection in both their hands between them, held upright in a muddle of slippery fingers just in front of the hem of her nightdress, now gathered in her lap. In this position, Ben could only see a dark shadow that teasingly hinted at her pubic hair, but his eyes were raised higher, gazing into her kind face behind her studious glasses as she looked down at him with a mixture of warm affection and smug self-satisfaction, perhaps arising from her confidence that he was utterly in her power.

She’d started her creative wordplay again, saying dreamily as she stroked him, “Little Roddie O, my stiff Jolly Roger, that pirate rascal with his shiny helmet. My creamy mushroom, that surprise visitor in the lawn’s morning dew, a ripe stinkhorn, the spring bulb thrusting from the mossy earth, the nodding purple crocus bud, the tender growing sapling, promising summer fruit.”

Ben found a moment to interrupt, resting one hand on her knee, voicing his thoughts over his heavy breaths, “I wonder if Roddie’s still the right name, after all we’ve said. Maybe it is that spring growth, for my queen of the winter night, ready to make summer fertile, as you say. Hmm, that’s good! Maybe it’s the head of the returning lion god, or Eostre’s rabbit, or the sun-loving snake, is-serp, as you said, the ambiguous messenger, basking in the Garden of Eden.”

“No,” Marcie replied firmly, as she idly stroked his shaft and head with delicate fingertips, even while he held its base with a hand around his scrotum. She explained, “Roddie will always be our shared joking name now. But we can be serious too, and the truth is that your penis is a real force of nature. There’s no need to hide behind metaphors or mythologies. You have a natural impulse to inseminate me, to propagate your genes by making me pregnant with your sperm, and we’re both very aware of that, even if we’re putting off any actual fertilisation. Still, we have made that connection between your own virility and the whole Earth’s reproductive forces now, along with the open sky of free and creative possibilities that we’ve both felt, and the flowing waters of life’s fecund essence.” Then, after a thoughtful pause, she asked carelessly, “But have you actually ever used Roddie outside, in nature, under that open sky?”

Ben realised that she might be probing into his past sexual adventures again, but he didn’t mind that, knowing now about her apparently insatiable curiosity, feeling secure in their mutual love and honesty. Still, struggling a little to focus as he continued to enjoy Marcie’s intimate tender care, he playfully sought confirmation by asking, “Use him how? Were you thinking for peeing, or making love, or maybe just masturbating?”

Marcie paused her strokes as she said, “Oh, I’m sorry, I’m just being too nosy again, aren’t I? I meant making love, having sex, fucking in the open air of wild nature.” She fell silent and her fingertips began brushing his shaft again very gently, then added quietly, “I’m embarrassed to say it, but I also thought maybe I could be the first to do something with you that you’d not done with anyone else.”

Ben felt embarrassed himself at her reminder of his excessive past sexual history, but he wanted to reassure her. “It’s all like the first time, with you,” he tried explaining, “My first ejaculation in your hands, your first orgasm in mine, then by my kiss. Our first time for real in the kitchen, then in bed, taking turns to go on top. The first time in your mouth too. Each was new, more intense and colourful, so much more satisfying. It’s like I said, it feels different with you, like it’s serious, not just playing now. You’re my true love, and each first time is precious.”

He was getting more than a little distracted by his rising arousal at her hands around his erection, but he’d thought of something else to share with her. He began confessing, “Actually, my first time was kind of outside, to be honest. The first woman who let me have sex with her, we did it in a barn, like a roll in the hay, for real.”

“Hmm, that sounds exciting. Do you want to tell me more? Who was she? Were you both very young?” Marcie asked with a twinkling smile, still just very slowly stroking him with gentle fingertips, up his shaft to his frenulum, whilst her other hand softly held his shaft.

“Erm, I was young, too young really, just fourteen,” Ben admitted, breathing deeply to keep as calm as possible as he rested his hands on her bare ankles, “Fuck, Marcie, that feels good!” he exclaimed in grateful appreciation for all she was doing, as he twitched involuntarily in her hands, before gathering his thoughts to explain more, “Ash was older though, genuinely a grown woman, eighteen I guess. You see, the truth is, she was my brother’s girlfriend, Ashleigh Wright. I’ve never told anyone this before, it was a serious secret. It still is. If a girlfriend asked later, I just vaguely said it had been with a friend of the family, the daughter of some friends of my parents, who came to visit and I didn’t see afterwards, which was true, kind of.”

Marcie was looking at him with a warm and curious smile even as she kept stroking him, but she asked him simply to go on when he paused, so he told her the story, “It happened when my brother was away at sea, but on this day, it was his birthday. We had a family party, celebrating for him, in his absence. Then I went out to the barn with Ash after lunch, to get away from the old folks, and to see some farmyard kittens. Hmm, that feels so good, you’re so good! But what happened, once we were on our own, she encouraged me, to be naughty with her, you know? It was like that cliche, the game we kind of played too, ‘I’ll show you mine, if you show me yours.’ I don’t know if she thought it would work, like she didn’t think I was fully grown, or able to have sex. She said I could just try it out, try putting my penis in her vagina I mean. She even had a condom. But it did work, of course, and it went all the way, but it was quick, I guess. Not like now, this is delicious, how long it’s rising. But Ash, she got me to swear never to tell anyone. She said that she would say I’d forced her, like I’d raped her, if word got out. I was quite anxious afterwards, but I was still glad we’d done it.”

“It sounds like quite a story,” Marcie remarked, still looking down at him with kind sympathy, still holding him upright and gently circling his head, having brought her fingertips to her mouth to moisten them with a little of her saliva while he’d been talking. She added, “You should write it down and see how many details you can remember, or use your intuition to fill in the gaps.”

“I’m not really a writer. I struggled in English you know, at GCSE,” Ben admitted, surprised now how long he was enduring Marcie’s tender attention. He felt he ought to have come by now, but he also thought that perhaps his whole system was a little tired and empty after so many orgasms with Marcie already over the last few days, even as his turgid manhood strained upwards in her hands.

“I can help you,” Marcie promised, adding, “Writing about sex is more interesting than what they have you do for English GCSE.”

“I remember, when we talked about your own fantasy first time, you hinted, maybe you’d written the story down. Ooh, it’s still building, this is so nice. But sure, writing about my first time, then sharing it with you, that would definitely be its own first, like nothing I’ve done with anyone else,” Ben said, finding himself warming to the idea, even as their speculative chatter glided above the direct physical excitement of her slowly and steadily masturbating him.

“Hmm, I could help jog your memory,” Marcie said with a wicked smile, suddenly and unexpectedly dropping him, then reaching her hands over her head to pull her nightdress up. Ben’s erection had fallen heavily back against his stomach, only to bounce back up a little in its stiffness, but he was keen to keep it upright, so he held himself at the base of his shaft with his hand around his testicles again. Meanwhile he watched eagerly as she wriggled around and pulled the white cotton up over her belly and then her chest, quickly untangling her head and arms before casting it aside. His eyes were of course drawn to her jiggling breasts, their heavy curves swaying with her movement, her dark pink areolae drawing his attention to her nipples and the stretched pale skin beneath them, just as they’d done before.

She squeezed some more gel on her hands, then grasped his erection again, more firmly this time, gripping his shaft just above his hand while she rolled the palm of her other over his head, making him shiver with visceral pleasure. As she did this, she began seductively asking a series of questions about Ashleigh that Ben answered tersely, often simply with a yes or no, “So did this Ashleigh show you her boobs too? Were they as big as mine? Were her nipples smaller as well? Did you fondle them? Did you suck them? What colour was her hair? What about her pubes? So she didn’t shave either? Did you stroke her? Stroke her pussy I mean. Did you tickle her clitoris? Did you put a finger up inside her cunt? What about her arsehole? Did you kiss her cunt? Did Ash put your Roddie in her mouth? Did she grip you like this? Wrap her fingers around you here? Touch you here? Did she gob on her hands to rub you too? Roll your head in her palm like this? Did she let you put the condom on for yourself? Was Roddie this big when she helped? Did she go on top when you put him inside her? Was she on her knees across you? Did she lean back or come down low over you? Were you both moving? Were you going fast? Did her breasts bounce about? Did she feel it when you came inside her? I felt you coming inside me last night too. She sounds like a naughty minx, taking her fun from you and your brother both, using your young body for her fuck toy, then tricking you, almost blackmailing you, to keep your shared secret safe. Yet she had you, she felt you inside her, and she was a lucky young woman, but not as lucky as me. She’s had her chance, popping your cork. Oh! That’s it. But I’ve got you now! You’re coming just for me now. Yes, that’s right, let it pump and flow, your creamy seed, for our love, for our shared future. That’s good, it smells deliciously fresh and salty. It’s all alright. I have you safe, you’re safe in my hands.”

Ben had felt himself almost reaching the point of no return as soon as Marcie had undressed and grasped him again. His gaze had been inevitably drawn to the round mounds of her breasts hanging low against her chest, seeing again the texture of the generous dusky ovals around her nipples and the subtle lines of veins under her thin skin, all just out of reach. Then lower down, he could see just a tuft of her dark pubic bush under her smooth stomach and bellybutton, but her vulva, which he knew must be parted and close to his own genitals, was hidden. Yet when he managed to raise his eyes to her face, seeing her tan and mole-dappled cheeks creased by the serene smile on her wide lips, with the stray curled hairs around her forehead escaping her braided ponytail, he saw that her own gaze was fixed on his fully grown erection, thick and upright in her hands, its exposed glossy head a deep reddish-purple now. He realised then that she was just as intently focused on his own intimate parts as he had been on hers, even while she’d been firing off her questions.

He’d been doing his best to remain calm and still, breathing deeply as those rapid questions came and he answered, guessing at details when he couldn’t remember. Then perhaps she’d noticed when he really had tipped over the edge, for it was just as her questions stopped. He’d been gulping great breaths beneath her in those last moments, his hands clasped to her thighs whilst she’d been rubbing his penis firmly and rhythmically with both hands. She kept closing each greasy hand around his slippery head then smoothly pulling down his shaft to its thick base, over and over again, one starting before the other had finished. She’d exclaimed when the first spurt of his ejaculation had pulsed out, but she’d kept moving consistently as he’d jerked involuntarily in her hands, acutely sensitive to her firm touch as she mixed his semen into the gel and saliva on her hands with her massaging strokes down his shaft.

He’d groaned and involuntarily panted out Marcie’s name as his orgasm had hit, coursing through his body as his penis seemed to find a new rigid extreme in her hands. But inevitably the moment had passed swiftly, and he found himself achingly dizzy with a kind of slumping relief as the twitching spasms receded. He placed his hands gently over Marcie’s, bringing them to a stop as they came to rest together over his hot and tender penis, softening already as it lay under their hands’ combined weight against his stomach. He was aware that his modest emission of semen, along with the other sticky fluids, had mostly pooled at its base, making a gooey mess in his pubic hair, but now he felt a trickle of cooling liquid escape between his thighs to leak onto the bed. He sighed in resigned contentment, knowing that the work of changing and washing the sheets again was a small price for the rapture of his honest intimacy with Marcie.

“Thank you,” Ben said aloud, even though he knew Marcie would dismiss the remark. He went on before she could interrupt, “And it is all for you now, truly. It’s strange, you were trying to make me think of my first lover, or whatever Ash was to me. But all the time I was with you, not just literally, here with our bodies, but in my head, my heart and my soul too. I guess we were just playing a game, that maybe you weren’t trying to test me, but you couldn’t distract me from what we were doing, here and now, making love, even if it was just in your hands. I love you Marcie. You fill my world. I can’t imagine anyone else now, except as weak and vague shadows.”

“That’s nice,” she said jokingly, “But all this messy play has made me want a quick orgasm too. I think it will come most efficiently if I just lie back, use a toy, and daydream about Daniel Craig.”

Ben laughed aloud, sure that she was merely teasing him as she released his hands. Then Marcie moved dynamically to shift her legs around so that she could lean far over the edge of the bed to recover her nightdress, which she threw towards him as she turned back. Ben cautiously took his cue, rubbing away the messy quagmire around his genitals, even as she got onto her knees to straddle him, smirking. Ben barely had a moment to look up at her with a muddle of affection and uncertainty before she fell forwards, planting her hands firmly on the mattress beside his head and lowering herself over him to give him a slippery kiss.

He was delighted to feel her breasts brush his chest as he affectionately played his tongue over hers, yet the arousal of his tingling penis had deserted him as it shrunk further into her crumpled nightdress, now damp with his spent semen. He was aware that the air in the room must be getting high with the smells of his manhood, still dirty from last night and now spreading the distinctive smell of fresh ejaculate too, as well as the drying saliva and intimate gel on both his penis and Marcie’s hands. Then there must be the unclean smells of the hard-used bedsheets and their own bodies, the sweaty energy of last night warmed again by Ben’s damp armpits at least. Yet neither of them seemed to mind as they cuddled naked together, Marcie squirming over Ben as she rocked back and forth on her knees.

Marcie was eager to get on with her plan though, as became clear when she organised things for herself and prompted him to move around until they’d found a new arrangement. She’d tossed the dirty nightdress aside and recovered a small vibrator that Ben hadn’t really noticed before, briefly testing that it was operational. She also checked that her gel was handy, then they both seized a moment to drain their tepid mugs of tea. Finally they ended up in almost the reversed positions to those they’d been in earlier. Ben was sitting back against the bed’s headboard with his knees up, cushioned by the pillows, but now Marcie was leaning against him, his sticky soft penis pressing somewhere into her lower back, her legs spread wide with her heels together, her own knees fixed firmly under Ben’s.

He felt delighted by her uninhibited posture, her relaxed open legs seemingly symbolising her easy and open sexual expression with him. Yet he felt a little disappointed that he could see so little of her in their position, spying just a suggestion of the crease of her vulva under her mound of pubic hair, down between the gap between the low wide curves of her breasts, as he saw them from his top-down view over her shoulder. He imagined the view they’d both have of Marcie’s shady pink lips and vagina if she’d had a mirror on the wall at the foot of the bed, but he thought it unlikely they’d follow up that passing thought by arranging to hang one there sometime.

Still, Ben felt content as he nuzzled against her head with his arms around her, feeling her loose hairs tickling his neck and cheeks when he brushed his nose to her ear, and feeling the smoothness of her soft belly under his big rough hands. He was enjoying the warm and solid contact of her back pressing hard against his chest and belly, and her bare hips squashed firmly against the sensitive skin of his inner thighs, yet he was resigned to the fact that his exhausted manhood was still soft.

Marcie’s own hands were both already at her vulva, one holding the buzzing toy as if it were a paintbrush to bring the rounded tip of its short shaft against her clitoris, the other parting and stroking her inner labia, presumably to make the contact more satisfying. He realised that as Marcie did this, she was following a well-rehearsed technique that he did not want to interfere with. Instead, moving carefully to avoid jolting her arms, he slid his hands gently across the silky skin of her belly, caressing her as he raised them steadily upwards to brush her breasts. She gave no sign of noticing this, seemingly entirely focused on her vibrator’s contact with the tiny bud of her clitoris as she steadily gave long heavy breaths, yet he guessed he was in some small way adding to the sensations that she was experiencing.

As he delicately brushed her large proud nipples and the crumpled skin around them with his fingertips, he found himself unexpectedly recalling the distant Ashleigh and that first sexual encounter. Though he’d not thought of her in years, the memories were coming back more clearly now thanks to Marcie’s prompts. He remembered his feelings of awe and gratitude as she’d first revealed herself to him, and then let him touch her breasts, even before they’d got onto the more serious business with their genitals. Yet he must have been an awful disappointment to her, a skinny gangling teenager still not completely out of puberty, utterly clueless about how to touch a woman sensitively. He still felt embarrassed now to remember how, when she’d said he could touch her nipples, he’d pressed them as if they were buttons. As he gently brushed his fingers back and forth over Marcie’s hardened nipples now, then around and under them too, stroking her puckered areolae and the thin skin beneath them with his fingertips, he wondered if in some ways he wasn’t still just as clueless. He had no real idea what she sensed of his affectionate attention, or if she even felt anything significant at all from it.

Marcie was fidgeting about a bit in his arms now, pressing her bare back against his chest as her heavy breathing became a little ragged and the hot close contact of their skin became a little sweaty. He craned his neck forward to kiss her ear, murmuring softly, “You’re the best, Marcie. Of all possibilities, I’m so glad I’ve ended up with you. I couldn’t be happier, with anyone else. No one could ever come close. No one can touch us now. Our love is solid. It really is the true love, that will go on and on. Sex with you is the best, truly. I feel it every time I come. You become the goddess of love, the pure spirit of woman, focusing the essence of sexual ecstasy, but real, warm in my arms, in my hands, touching me, giving me new life, for our shared future, together.”

As these words came to him and he quietly shared them, he knew they were true. He would rather be with Marcie than any of his previous girlfriends, or his more casual sexual partners, from Ashleigh forwards. He could so easily imagine their shared future stretching ahead through anything that life threw at them now, helping each other as they kept falling back on their common positive outlooks and playful imaginations, the sparkling jewels in the sanctuary they were building for themselves, treasures that would help carry them far over the horizon into the unknown. Similarly he could also imagine their sexual adventures only widening and deepening as they shared their mutual erotic curiosity and bold enthusiasm for intimacy. He’d not felt anything like this expressive alignment of intimate dreams and physicality with anyone else who he’d been in a romantic relationship with.

Marcie had kept panting heavily while he’d been speaking, as he’d felt by the rise and fall of her chest under his hands as well as the noises of her breath, sharply exhaled through her gritted teeth. Now she’d started to vocalise a distant keening note with each exhalation too. Guessing that she might be closing in on her orgasm, with his lips close to her ear, he tried murmuring something like the reassuring phrases that she’d used with him, “That’s it. Let it flow. You’re safe in my arms. It’s all okay. Relax, and release it.”

As he whispered, he also risked more direct stimulation, tentatively pinching her firmly erect nipples with plucking motions which he tried to not make too hard. He guessed he’d timed these about right as after a few moments, Marcie grunted loudly, “Fuck, Qaddisa Marija, ugh!” At that familiar exclamation, ending in a pleading groan, he risked raising his hand to brush her mouth, and as he’d half expected, she impulsively snapped her jaws to bite down firmly on his first knuckle. He heard her make a desperate high keening noise, muffled by his hand, which brought a surprising pulse of arousal to his squashed penis buried somewhere between them, then she released him and unceremoniously withdrew her hands from her vulva.

Panting with longer slowing breaths now, she clasped his hand at her mouth with one of hers as her other fiddled with her toy, stopping its buzzing vibrations and casting it aside. “Oh Ben, that was a bonus!” she murmured, kissing his fingertips tenderly now. “Holy Mary, I’m a naughty girl with you. I didn’t think I’d be ready for another one so soon, but you made me want to come, and then I did! It was like blue light, coursing through me. Ooh, it feels good. And thank you. You’re the best too. I’m such a lucky woman.”

“Hey, I didn’t do anything,” Ben admitted as she twisted around in his arms to cuddle up to him.

“Oh, you did,” Marcie contradicted him, “We did all that together, truly making love to each other, like you said, and making a right mess of ourselves again. Now, we really need to get cleaned up and get this show on the road if we’re going to get down to Lincolnshire in time for lunch!”