This is the tramp who first got my attention by stuffing her pink panties in my pocket. When I got home, I found they had her phone number written across the bum. She later confirmed that she didn't write it herself. She said volunteers were everywhere.

This is the horny girl, playing innocent, who couldn't make it to the carpark from the bar, and begged me to take her against a tree, dropping her jeans to assist.

This is the slut who said my friends were boring, and delivered beer, half way through our poker games, stark naked, twice.

This is the devil who insisted on dressing up for Halloween, and then answered the door in her underwear. Red panties with a horned devil on the crotch. Just that.

This is the horny trollop who introduced me to her old friend and former lover, Diane, in our bed, and then made one of my fantasies come true. All weekend.

This is the girl with the voice who phoned me at the office to tell me she wanted me to come home, right then. When I couldn't, she told me she just wouldn't wait any longer, and didn't, but stayed on the phone.

This is the girl who bought a new coat, and then stood in the kitchen at home, in a maid's outfit, with a wooden paddle, to apologise. She insisted I punish her. Five times she had to be punished for that coat.

This is the show-off who took me swimming, and didn't tell me until we got there. Her striptease alone was worth the trip. I wasn't the only one who thought so, but I got to take her home.

This is the artist who wrote me a four page email, describing how she likes to masturbate when I'm not there. She enclosed photographs, in case I was confused.

This is the girl who unzipped my jeans under the table in a restaurant, and stroked my cock. I wouldn't have stopped her except my mother kept looking at me to see what was wrong with me.

This is the angel who abstained from orgasms for two weeks, to prove that she could, but gave me a handjob every other night. The same girl who woke me at four the next morning, rubbing herself frantically and claiming she couldn't wait any longer, just before pleading with me to help, in case she only managed one or two orgasms. I lost count somewhere around five. Yeah, both. Five orgasms, five AM.

This is the hussy who pressed the "stop" button in the casino elevator and gave me a blow job in full view of the security camera. And a standing ovation.

This is the outdoors-lover who teased me until I pushed her on onto the hood of a Porsche, lifted her skirt and found she wore no panties. She planned it, and I made sure her efforts weren't wasted.

This is the sports fan who made a bet that she could distract me while I was watching football. I told her that buying a vibrator was cheating. I never did see the end of the game.

And now, somehow, this is the girl who is spooned in front of me in our bed, naked and soft, warm and sleepy, her dark hair sprawling over our pillows.

I can't see her eyes, but I know they glitter wetly, mirrors of her happiness.

She pushes slightly towards me as I climb in, welcoming me to share the space with her, grabs my hand and kisses it silently, more love than lust, a welcome from the heart, not just the groin.

After kissing my hand, she gently places it on her breast, kneading it herself a little, letting me feel the nipple stand up and pay attention.

My other hand gently strokes the back of her neck, and over the slope of her shoulders, a caress really, not intended to arouse, more to affirm. It doesn't work that way though, as she shivers.

My body closes in behind hers, and I can feel her smooth warm skin all along mine, her hot little butt nestling in against my slowly hardening cock. She can feel it, and giggles quietly, before rocking a little, and then readjusting herself so it fits against her, fitting nicely in the space between her buttocks, hard now, and pointing straight up.

My hands wander carelessly over her body, 'accidentally' brushing over her nipples a few times, stroking her front and back at the same time, my hands on her face as she takes a finger into her mouth, my fingertips massaging her scalp before returning to the lower parts of her body.

I can tell by the position of her arms that her hands are exploring as well, but her own body, not mine. I love it when she does this. She would have made a point of letting me see in the past, but this time it's almost subconscious.

Her fingertips travel their meandering way down her stomach, over her navel and further south, stopping to massage her pubic hair a little, cupping the mound in her hands and sliding fingers down either side, deep in the creases at the top of her legs, down to the base of her labia. They don't stay there long.

As I peek over her body I can see her slowly start to drag her fingertips back up, in between the damp labia, slowly parting them, and sliding up to, and beyond her clitoris, jumping a little with the quick contact.

It's the first time of many, as her fingers return again and again, the skin becoming more slippery each time, until she can slide her fingers the full length quite effortlessly, and does.

Her body starts to move against the fingers, and her butt rocks against the underside of my erection. It seems that she suddenly realises it's available and her body moves up a little against mine. She lifts her leg, allowing my cock to pop through the gap and sit just at the entrance, so close that I can feel her fingers as they slide back and forth.

She extends her strokes now, her slippery fingers slowly coating my cock, with the whole thing happening like a dream; as though we could take a week or a lifetime to finish this, which in a way we can.

A little more manoeuvring brings the head of my cock to the entrance, and I can just feel the skin of the labia against the bulb of it, hot and slippery, but oh so nice against my most sensitive part. Her fingers keep touching me as well, slippery tips on and over my cock, fearlessly caressing and encouraging.

I wriggle a bit more, push slightly, and slide up the lubricated labia a little, and back again, listening delightedly to the sighs from her mouth, and feeling the undulation of her skin.

Pushing again, I'm a little surprised. She has spread her labia with her hands, needing me inside. I slide between the folds of skin, feeling her fingers on either side of my erection, and the heat inside her. The head of my cock feels more constricted; the familiar tightness almost frictionless, wonderful.

We both move a little, repositioning to get comfortable, and then she resumes her rocking. Her fingers wander a little further now; clutching my testicles between her legs; stroking fingertips up my shaft to where it disappears inside her; continuing up to caress her clit again.

A rhythm arises of its own accord, and as I resume caressing other parts of her body, she moves very gently in front of me, many points of contact between our bodies, her butt against my stomach, her back on my nipples, the back of her legs sliding back and forth on the front of mine.

Most of my attention though is taken by the movement around my cock. I can feel her rhythm become a little more energetic, her hands leaving her groin from time to time, to suck her fingers, tweak her nipples, knead her breasts.

I'm conscious, for the first time ever, of a need to be gentle, to not thrust so vigorously, to allow her to decide the rhythm. I find that I like it, and lose myself in the movements, our bodies flowing smoothly together, not in need of an orgasm so much as wanting the contact.

The physical drive can't be ignored though, and her fingers return to her clit, rubbing against the movement of our bodies, as she pumps steadily on my shaft, pressure from inside and out, a slow but inevitable journey.

I allow her to make all the decisions, just going along for the ride, and stepping up the pace whenever she does. I can feel my cock much more specifically than usual, feel the different parts of it rubbing wonderfully inside her, feel her muscles jump as I touch her in different places, as the pressure of her fingers bring her nearer to her goal.

As she gets close, she decides that she doesn't want to finish this herself, and takes her hands away from between her legs, instead grabbing mine, and holding them to her breasts, showing me how to caress and then knead them, ignoring and then paying full attention to her hard nipples as her bottom crushes against me and pulls away, again and again, faster and faster.

I can tell when she is nearly there, and gently remove my hands from her grasp, pulling them back behind her body, and sliding them both down her spine, and further, over her buttocks. Her fingers continue their attentions to her breasts, and her thighs keep moving before me. As my fingertips slide down the valley between her buttocks, sliding gently over the puckered opening, it's all she can take.

Her body clamps up in what must be the most gentle orgasm I've ever seen her manage, and as she sighs loudly, I give up on holding back, and release my load deep inside her, my cock pumping as her muscles clamp down on it, and our machine-like movement dies down, and finally stops.

I am exhausted, and elated. I can tell she is too, and without saying a word I snuggle close in behind her, my cock softening inside her, knowing that I've been gentle enough, that we've been careful enough; that we have, for the first time, taken care of our tiny little baby.