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                                 Casual/steamboa
                                          Steamboat
                 	It was a sensual, erotic experience, before AIDS reared its ugly 
              head and make such encounters dangerous. Though I was younger then, and 
                            more willing to take risks of various kinds.
               	I was at a dance on an old paddlewheel steamboat which cruised down 
             the Ohio River while we listened to music and danced the night away. I'd 
              gone with a girlfriend, not willing to be tied down for the night in a 
             place where there was no escape if my date turned out to be a dud. And so 
                   far, I hadn't met anyone who rang my chimes in the slightest.
                 	I went for a walk around the deck, clearing my head in the fresh 
               air and letting the sweat dry from my body. Then I went back into the 
                          ballroom, ready to face more inane conversation.
                 	I was skirting around the dance floor, making my way back to our 
             table, when something drew my eyes, like iron filings drawn to a magnet. 
                  	He was standing on the other side of the dance floor, his eyes 
            staring intently at me. My breath caught in my throat. Tall, handsome, with 
             the build of an Adonis, he was every woman's fantasy lover. His dark eyes 
              held mine, commanding me to come to him, and I obeyed, threading my way 
                through the dancers without ever once breaking eye contact with him.
                	His arms went around me and we moved to the music, his breath warm 
            against my hair. I inhaled, relishing the clean fresh smell of him, just a 
            little sweaty, as was I, but clean sweat caused by dancing on a hot summer 
             night. My hand trembled against his neck, and his hands were trembling on 
                                              my back.
               	I wanted him as I'd never wanted a man before. Slow heat spread out 
               from my groin, and moisture flooded my panties. My cunt began slowly 
            pulsating, aching to be filled. My clitoris swelled and hardened with every 
                 move of my thighs. My nipples hardened and rubbed against my bra. 
               	There was an electricity surrounding us, making the fine hair stand 
            up on my arms, fogging my mind. I closed my eyes, leaning against him, and 
                          his arms tightened a little in acknowledgement.
                 	His breath quickened, as mine had, and I knew he was feeling the 
              same heat I was feeling. His cock was swelling against my abdomen and I 
               pressed closer to it, making small circular movements with my pelvis.
                           	When the music ended, his arms still held me.
                     	"Shall we go for a walk and cool off?" he asked huskily.
                                    	I nodded, unable to speak.
               	We walked around the deck in silence, his arm around my waist. Then 
             we passed an empty office, and he drew me inside, locking the door behind 
             us. There was a desk and chair, and blessedly a couch against one wall. I 
             moaned as his arms went around me and his lips sought mine feverishly. I 
               was on fire, and would burn up if he didn't do something to cool the 
             flames. He could kiss -- oh, God, how he could kiss. I was left dazed by 
                                             that kiss.
                	He undressed me slowly, teasing my hard nipples with his tongue as 
            he slid my skirt to the floor. I unfastened his trousers and lowered them, 
                  allowing his hard, thick cock to spring into the air between us.
                	I dropped to one knee as I pushed his pants down, my mouth closing 
             on it, his hands slipping into my hair and caressing my head as I sucked.
                	"Stop," he whispered, holding my head away from him. "I don't want 
                                           to come yet."
               	I stood up, and he lowered me slowly to the couch. Kneeling between 
               my legs, he buried his tongue there, soon making me whimper with the 
                                         passion he evoked.
                             	"I'll come if you don't stop," I panted.
                 	For answer, he redoubled his efforts. I exploded into his mouth, 
               hot fluid gushing from my body as my throbbing cunt responded to his 
                                          ravenous mouth.
                   	When the orgasm faded, he moved up and took me into his arms.
                 	"I knew you'd be a gusher," he teased. "You taste wonderful. So 
                                          sweet and good."
                 	He kissed me and I tasted my own sweet juices on his tongue. The 
               taste excited me, and my body arched up to him, slowly moving in that 
                                      ancient rhythm of love.

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                 	He toyed with my nipples, biting and licking until they were on 
             fire. Then he slipped down and started eating me again. I moaned without 
                       stopping, twisting up to his mouth, begging for more.
                 	He made me come a dozen times, over and over, building me higher 
            and higher each time, until I was begging him incoherently not to stop, not 
                                        to ever, ever stop.
                 	But there was a different need now, an emptiness, a need to feel 
               that thick cock inside me. My hands went down to his head and tugged 
                                              gently.
                 	"Please," I begged. "I want to feel you inside me. Come up here. 
                                              Please."
               	He sucked a little harder, taking me almost to the brink of another 
            orgasm, then moved up and slowly slid just the head into me. All the breath 
            went out of me as I felt the hard thickness of him. I tried to arch up and 
               capture it all, but he held me back, keeping the penetration slow and 
            tantalizing. I was panting by the time he was completely in, sweat covering 
              my chest and face. He licked the sweat from my breasts, then licked my 
                                               lips.
                 	I felt him reach the base then, and his balls bounced against my 
             bottom. I wrapped my legs high around him and begged him to fuck me, hard 
                                             and fast.
                    	"What's the hurry?" he whispered. "It's too good to rush."
                 	"I know, but I'm so hot," I moaned. "Please, I need you. Make me 
                                           come, please."
                  	"All right, you can come once, then we're going to go slow and 
                            easy, and have a nice long one," he chided.
               	He moved three long hard strokes, enough to make me explode against 
              him. He groaned and gritted his teeth to keep from coming when the hot 
            fluids gushed around his cock. But he held it, and when I collapsed back on 
            the couch, he started moving slow and easy, drawing me back up to the peak, 
                                   this time at a leisurely pace.
                	I slipped my arms around his neck and responded to his kiss, still 
                                  tasting my juices on his tongue.
               	"You're so hot and wet and tight," he sighed. "I can't last as long 
                                           as I want to."
               	"I don't care," I told him. "Come when you need to. You've given me 
                                         more than enough."
                       	"One more," he whispered, "then I'll come with you."
                  	He moved hard and fast, making me gasp. My nails bit into his 
            shoulders and I arched up to him. I'd come so many times already that there 
               was very little fluid left, but my body pulsated and milked him, not 
              caring. As I neared the end of it, shuddering, he let go, groaning his 
                           pleasure as the hot fluid shot from his body.
                  	He slumped down on top of me, kissing me gently. "So good," he 
                                     whispered. "So very good."
                                	"Yes," I sighed, totally drained. 
                  	We lay in silence for several long minutes, as our heartbeats 
             returned to normal and some of the sweat dried from our faces and bodies, 
            except where we were touching. Post-orgasmic tremors shook one or the other 
                       of us periodically, bringing smiles to both our faces.
                	"What's your name?" he whispered, staring down into my eyes as he 
                                   toyed with a lock of my hair.
                	I started laughing then, shaking with amusement, and the movement 
            dislodged him, making the soft cock slip from my body. He laughed with me, 
                                  recognizing the absurdity of it.
                             	"Wanda," I said at last. "What's yours?"
                	"David." He kissed me gently. "Thank you, Wanda. I'll never forget 
                                  this night, as long as I live."
                  	"You're welcome," I laughed. "Though I really think it's I who 
              should be thanking you. I'm the one who got all the pleasure out of it."
                   	"No, you didn't. There's no greater pleasure than watching a 
               sensual woman reaching the heights of passion, especially under your 
                                       tongue, or your cock."
                   	We heard the boat docking then, and began scrambling for our 
                                              clothes.
                                      	I never saw him again. 
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