I found that I quite enjoyed it, but also, had a hard time adjusting to it or reciprocating.  I patted her back, unsure what to do, what she wanted, or even what I wanted.  My mind was still half on the sex that we weren’t currently having, but the other half wanted to explore this other thing, this new intimacy, if I could only get past my own awkward self and figure out how.

I put on sweats and a T-shirt, she put on boxers and a tight tank top without a bra, and we took our strange touching session into the kitchen, where she made us lunch.

Somehow, we’d managed to sleep in until almost noon.  I couldn’t remember a time I’d done that, even during one of my sleep deprived deadline trances.

She made us subs while I perched a hip against the counter and watched, not helping, too lost in my own musings, and just generally dazed at her presence.

She kept me off kilter like that, moving to kiss me on the shoulder or nuzzling sweetly into my chest.

“I love this spot…right here,” she murmured into my sternum, nestling her lovely face there, her lush doting lips placing five quick kisses that moved up to my collarbone, as though it were the most natural thing in the world.

Put a fork in me, I’m done, I thought, my mind feeling a bit mushy.

I hugged her to me stiffly, wanting to do more, wishing I knew how to respond in a way that made her feel how she was making me feel, which was wonderful.

She didn’t seem to mind my inept response to her smooth affections.  Thankfully, she was unfailingly patient with me, as though she knew why I hesitated.

We ate together, and then she talked me into an afternoon of watching television.

It worked out well (though it was the last thing I’d wanted to do) because it let me work past some of my touching restraints, when I felt she was adequately distracted.

She was laughing at some god-awful reality show when she casually asked me to rub her neck.

Affection with a purpose I could do, I found.  It was a good way to break me in.  I put my efforts into rubbing her neck and shoulders until she was a limp puddle on my aching lap.

Finally she pulled my hands away with a laugh, tugging them over her shoulders so she could slowly kiss each of my knuckles.  “You don’t do anything half-assed, do you?” she asked fondly.

That I did not.  She’d hit that one square on the head.

I nuzzled my face into her hair and kissed my way to her temple.  I was getting the hang of it, though, this affection dance.  It was already starting to feel more natural.

“I’ve got to tell you, I’m kind of hoping this isn’t really the only kind of show you like,” I told her, hours into our marathon of horrible reality television.

She turned and smiled at me.  “Of course it isn’t, but I don’t want to turn on anything too fascinating.  I have to confess, I’m a bit of an attention whore, where you’re concerned, and I want your focus all on me.”

My eyes tried to bug out of my head.  “I don’t know what show on the planet you think could distract me from you.  I can’t even wrap my mind around that idea.”

She shrugged, wiggling deeper into my lap.

Into my very obvious erection.

“So we’re only watching this crap so I’ll pay attention to you?” I asked, feeling skeptical.  She couldn’t really think she needed a ploy like that to get my focus on her…could she?  I had her pegged as way more observant than that.

“It can’t hurt.”

I bit her neck and fondled her.  I’d show her focus.

I’d reached my non-sexual touching breaking point.

As though she knew it, without me even having to speak, she switched the music on, some sultry song with a heavy beat, with the female singer belting out some of the most obscene lyrics I’d ever heard.

“Did she just say he Monica Lewinskey’d all over her gown?” I asked, feeling old and a touch slow.

She giggled.  “Yes.  And he didn’t even bring a towel.”

That surprised a laugh out of me, but she shifted, arched her back, and it was cut off short.

I kept her firmly on my lap, facing away, and peeled her tight shirt up over her br**sts, her loose boxers down to her feet.

I yanked my sweatpants to my knees, and lifted her by the hips, my c**k seeking her slick entrance.  I pushed into her, my hands dragging her down by the h*ps until she let me in.

The music played on while I took her like that, as leisurely as I could manage, stopping occasionally, seated to the hilt, to play with her soft, round br**sts, and suck at her silky soft nape.  When I couldn’t hold back anymore, my hands went to her h*ps and I started thrusting in earnest again, my eyes closing in pleasure, jaw clenching with every one of her needy moans.

I gave full credit to all of my ejaculations the day before as I made her come again, and again, stopping to fondle her for every one of her delicious orgasms, still hard and throbbing inside of her.  My stamina, thank God, seemed to be well in hand again, at least for the moment.

“Oh, God,” she moaned, as she came down from another cock-clenching orgasm, her arms thrown up and back around my neck, pushing her lush br**sts into my busy hands.  “That was amazing.  You’re amazing.  I’ve never…where did you, how do you manage to…do it like this?”

I didn’t have any kind of an answer for that, except to feel a glowing pleasure.  I clasped her h*ps and bounced her some more on my abused cock, gritting my teeth to keep from coming.  Above all else, I wanted to give her pleasure.  The more the better.