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From: Bud Red <redbud@inbox.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} Quickie: Because He Could - by Redbud
Lines: 168
Date: Sun, 23 Mar 2008 10:10:01 -0400
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Quickie: Because He Could - by RedBud

  He watched her slowly wake up.

  Their mattress was on the floor. It was Saturday morning. He
didn't have to hurry. She didn't have to.

  She stretched, unaware that he was watching. He enjoyed the
feeling of his cock filling and stiffening. He wasn't dressed. He
was sitting naked on a canvass camping chair and just sitting
naked, with nowhere to go.  The chair was all they could afford,
along with a few other pieces of "furniture".  They had only
moved into the apartment during the week. This was their first
week-end. Just watching his girlfriend was enough to make his
cock ache. He had never been able to just enjoy his girlfriend,
naked, letting her see the effect she was having on him.

  Their lovemaking had been unpredictable. They did it wherever
they could. If their parents were away, then they had a house to
themselves but not often. Sometimes they did it in the car. They
liked to go on hikes and they would have sex in the woods. The
sex was quick, half clothed, and desperate for release. It had
always been too long since their last.

  Now they lived together. He could have her anytime he wanted.
He loved her short blonde hair, her quick gray eyes. He watched
her stretch again, marveling at the shape of a young woman's
body, stunned by what she stirred in him, her rounded hips,
fuller and rounder than a man's, the way her back curved when she
stretched, the way her V disappeared between her thighs when she
arched (and he knew where what was appearing behind her) and the
invitation of her breasts, full, firm, rising and falling, her
nipples hard, the muscular crease dividing her breasts, down her
abdomen and to her sex, her narrow waste, every part of her in
the perfect proportion of a young woman. The fierceness of his
desire brought his cock up hard against his belly button.

  Every part of her called to him, compelled him to do things to
another person that he never dreamed of, not so long ago, as a
child.

  The last sheet slipped off of her and she looked up at him
sleepily, then smiled. She saw his cock, glanced at it, and
returned her gaze to him, her smile. His stomach thrilled. He
still wasn't used to being naked in front of a woman, let alone
letting her see how she aroused him. But now she could see. He
didn't hide it. He didn't hide the way he looked at her - her
tits, her ass, her lips, her hips and legs. She was like a
different species. Her lips, her fingers and toes, 'everything'
was different from him, and yet every difference inflamed him -
he would do so many things to 'her'.

  And they could do it all day. They 'would' to it all day. What
else was there to do? Wasn't that why their bodies were the way
they were? He wanted to fuck her and fuck her and fuck her. They
were living together. Finally. They could be adults. If they
wanted to spend the whole day fucking, they could. He stared at
her ass as she languorously stood. Her every movement emphasized
her femininity and his own masculinity. Her movements: graceful,
supple; and his: angular and muscular.  She stood, standing with
her back to him. She glanced back at him, her little hands in
fists by the side of her hips and she stretched again. She
gracefully walked out of the room, stepping lightly over sheets
and clothes and the bowls they had eaten from as they watched TV
in bed - the freedom to do whatever they wanted.

  It was 'their' apartment'. Every room was theirs and they could
do anything they wanted in every room. She walked into the
bathroom and he stood, following her. His cock bobbed heavily in
front of him. She had left the door open.  She was sitting on the
toilet, peeing. The way she sat with her slender legs slightly
parted, her tummy arched as she peed, her breasts pushed forward.
Everything she did inflamed him. Her lips parted, almost
imperceptibly,  as she looked at his cock and looked at him. He
stepped forward and his cock slipped between her lips. She
sucked. There was no reason not to. They were alone in their own
apartment. She opened her legs as she sucked and her hand moved
between her legs.

  He stepped away, the pleasure almost unbearable, almost. His
cock slipped out of her beautiful mouth. Saliva strung her chin.
She wiped it away and smiled. She stood, gracefully, and washed
her hands. She leaned her hip against the lip of the counter,
forcing her back to arch and her ass to jut out toward him. She
glanced at his cock in the mirror, with a knowing smile. Her tits
hung forward. Every curve of her body called to him, made his
cock stretch, ready to be put into the place it was made to
penetrate. She touched up her eyebrows and lips. He put his hands
on her hips, her ass, and felt its slender roundness. No, why
hurry?

  She glanced at him and pushed him out of the way, her hip
brushing hard against his cock. He wondered if it was a turn-on
for her. He followed her into the living room. He wondered if she
enjoyed her nudity as much as he did. Was it as much of a turn-on
for her to be naked in front of a man, in her own apartment,
letting a man see her, every part of her, everything she did? - 
being able to watch the effect her body had on him? - being able
to watch his cock swell and lengthen, desperate for 'her', to be
inside her body. Did she want his cock insider her as much as he
ached to put it in? He wondered at the same lust that was so
different inside their different bodies.

  There was so much time. There was a whole day. He watched her
slender body, the way her ass gracefully swayed. He had gazed at
her ass so many times with blue jeans on, covered up, imagining
what she would look like if he could only have a day like today.

  He followed her into the kitchen. Neither had spoken to each
other yet. She opened the refrigerator door, and bent over
looking in the vegetable tray. How many times had he watched her
bend over? They had been with their parents or with friends or in
public and every time he had imagined what her ass would look
like, and imagined filling her sex. Her pussy was perfect, wet,
and open - there, between her thighs, just at the height of his
cock. He had always imagined simply fucking her. And he did. He
pushed his cock down and slid into her, firmly, completely, until
the entirety of his cock was sheathed inside her. She groaned,
loudly. This was their apartment. They were alone. She braced
herself against the open refrigerator and pushed back against
him. Sex was still new to him.  He still couldn't believe a woman
would let him do this to her. He couldn't believe she would put
his cock in her mouth. He couldn't believe she would bend over
like this for him and let him 'inside' her body. Him.

  He drew back and thrust. She gasped. He needed to fuck her. He
held her by her small round hips and he fucked her. He growled
and groaned. Everything about her was soft and yielding. And the
softest, warmest, wettest  and most yielding place was in her
belly, caressing his cock, massaging it, squeezing it. She was
crying out with every thrust. This is what he wanted to hear.
God, yes. He could listen to her cries all day long. He would.

  "Fuck me," she groaned. "O fuck yes! Right here. Right fucking
now."

  He was always too young or the girls were too beautiful. But
now it was him that a woman was bending over for, his cock in her
body. She was giving him her womb and she was having an orgasm on
'his' cock. She screamed, for him, in their apartment. Her
contractions were too much. He held himself deep inside her and
groaned helplessly and loudly as she milked him. And he emptied
his fluids into her, spurt after spurt, just where they were
meant to go. What would her parent's think?

  He looked down at her narrow waist, her smooth back, the
feminine curve of her spine, his cock still filling her. All day
long. He would fuck her all day long. He would cum in her mouth,
in her pussy, on her tits. He would do everything he had always
dreamed of doing, all things he had masturbated imagining. He
could do them to her. He wasn't going soft. He slowly,
reluctantly, pulled himself out of her, slick, covered with their
combined cum. He wouldn't clean himself. There was no reason to.
He was going to fuck her again. Cum dripped from her pussy and
spattered the floor between her feet as she stood - 'his' cum. 
She looked back at him without turning. She saw that he was still
hard, that this man desired her more than any other woman alive.
She closed the refrigerator door, leaned against it, arching her
ass and pussy towards him.

  She almost shouted  her penetration.

  He fucked her again. It was what she wanted. He fucked her 
because he could. 

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