I'd like to tell all of you about my girlfriend, Terri, and some of the great experiences we've had together. I'm doing this with her permission, but she's asked me not to describe anything that could give us away to the other workers in our office, since we know some of them read stories on noveltrove and other websites. So, my descriptions of us, and our names, are altered. The rest of the story is true. Maybe it's better that way, since you can substitute whatever faces and bodies and names make the story more exciting for you. But in fact, it remains our story. If it's well-received, maybe I'll write some more later, but for now, I'll tell you about how our relationship started. I couldn't come up with a title. She suggested "Fucking Terri's Brains Out" but I thought it was a little bit blatant. So you can give it your own title if you want.


     No one would ever call Terri beautiful, except for me. That may seem like a strange way to start talking about the woman I love, but it's the truth. Guys I know have called her "cute" or "decent-looking" or even "plain," but it doesn't matter to me. She's a little bit on the short side, which I like, and although she does have a few (only a few) spare pounds, most of her weight is muscle. She has an average bust, small waist, and her behind and legs look great in a pair of tight pants. Her hair is straight and light brown, and her face, truthfully, is more cute than pretty in the usual sense. Her eyes, though, are a pale, sparkling blue-grey with always a hint of mischief in them.

     Terri danced into my life in mid-August. And when I say danced, I mean it literally. She had just started work in my office, a new recruit added to our research and development team fresh out of college. I had known that she was starting work, but had been on vacation the previous week, so I hadn't been there when she was introduced to the rest of the team. I arrived early on Monday, wanting to get caught up with the week's backlog of emails and figure out just what had gone on in my absence. I heard light classical music coming through the wall from the office next to mine, which had been vacant when I left, so I decided to introduce myself to my new co-worker. I stepped out of my office and into hers, and was almost knocked over as she came whirling out her door in a graceful pirouette. Instinctively, I brought my hands up and caught her. She must've been as surprised as I was, but gave no sign of it as she tilted her head back, looked into my eyes and said, "Are you just going to stand there, or are you going to dip me?"

     I pride myself on my ability to take most anything in stride, and usually I'd have a quick comeback for a line like that, but not this time. Actually, I must've looked kind of silly as I yanked my hands away and made some lame excuse about not knowing the step. We introduced ourselves, and she showed me the decorations she had been putting up in her office. I knew after just a few minutes of talking to her that she was not going to be just another nerd in the office. Maybe it's just because she hasn't been ground down by the day-to-day work routine, but she just seems so much more alive than most of my other co-workers. And although it certainly wasn't love at first sight, I knew right away that I could really get to like her.

     Since I had a few years experience with the department, and was working on a fairly low-priority project at the moment, our boss decided that it would be a good idea for her to get her feet wet by helping me out on this project. I was amazed by her skill and talent. She took some time getting used to our coding conventions, or what passes for them, but other than that she seemed to have an instant understanding of everything we were doing, and came up with a number of optimizations that had gotten by me. That's not really such a big deal, but the fact that she never made an issue out of occasionally getting one up on me was quite a welcome change from the usual attitude I've encountered. In fact, it got to be something of a game between us, making us both do our jobs a little bit better. So it wasn't surprising when we finished that project and got handed a new one, this time a top-priority job.

     As the wise reader has probably guessed by now, my interest in Terri was growing personally as well as professionally. She'd come over to my place for dinner a few times, and we'd been out to a few movies, usually with friends. I thought that she was showing an interest in me as well, but since I've long ago stopped trying to out-guess a woman, I wasn't making any assumptions. We'd exchanged innuendos a few times, but I was just putting it down to a flirtatious streak. But as I became more interested in her, and started showing her some deliberately unprofessional attention, she seemed to be responding in kind.

     The turning point came, as it usually does in a relationship, at the least likely moment. We'd been working on our second project together for about a month, and although we'd been making good progress, there were still some critical timing problems we couldn't seem to resolve, with a deadline less than a week away. Neither of us was in any danger if we didn't get the program perfected, but after our early successes, we weren't going to accept a defeat, and we'd started putting in some really long hours in the office. We were in my office, throwing some ideas (and a Koosh) around at about midnight one night. The white board was covered with notes, mostly crossed out, and we had both been through half a dozen cups of tea since lunch time. Neither of us had had dinner, and our usual good humor was quickly fading. After a series of back-and-forth I gave the Koosh a high lob, and watched in dismay as it landed in her teacup and splashed cold Earl Grey on the day's notes.

     We were both on the papers in a second, trying to keep the tea from soaking through too many layers. The crisis past, she sighed and said, "Okay. Let me go get another cup of tea, and we'll pick up on your idea."

     At the moment, though, my mind had suddenly gone elsewhere, the way a male mind often will when it sees an attractive woman having a hard time. "Wait a minute," I said. "You don't need any more caffeine. You need something to relax you. Sit down." She sat down, and gave me a puzzled look. "Now, close your eyes, and turn your brain off for a few minutes." She closed her eyes, but from the look she gave me before closing them, I think her brain was probably quite busy as I turned her chair away from mine and put my hands on her shoulders.

     I had "threatened" her with backrubs many times before, but had never actually gotten up the nerve to give her one. Now it seemed like the most natural thing in the world as I stroked her back, shoulders, and neck. She seemed to relax totally after the first couple minutes, and leaned back quite comfortably against me. Encouraged, I worked my fingers up into her hair, and then down just inside the collar of her sweater, then massaged all the way down her arms to her hands. I guess I'd been at it about an hour when there was a knock on my office door and I saw the janitor peering through the tiny window. Terri and I both tried to act natural as I let him in, but we could both barely keep from laughing at the way he stood there grinning at us both, as if the three of us were sharing some great secret.

     After he'd gone, we decided that we weren't going to get anywhere on the problem that night, and decided to call it a night. I was a bit disappointed, but at the same time I knew we'd made a step in the right direction.

     The next morning, after a night of pleasant dreams, I awoke about two hours after we'd agreed to meet at the office. I showered, didn't bother to shave or eat, and made the 15 minute drive. When I got into my office, I found Terri there, scribbling notes on a thick yellow pad. When I walked in, she smiled at me and said, "What did you do to me last night?"

     "Nothing unusual," I said. "I'd be glad to demonstrate again sometime."

     "No, that's not what I mean. What did you do to my brain? I came in this morning after sleeping last night, and the answer was perfectly clear. Take a look a this!" I sat in open-mouthed wonder for the next fifteen minutes as she explained everything we'd done wrong on that phase of the project, and showed me exactly how we could correct it. We spent the next four hours fine-tuning her solution, then a couple more coding up the changes and testing. It worked even better than our original estimates, and we still had three days before the deadline.

     "Should we go tell Jeanne?" Terri asked, referring to our boss.

     I looked at my watch. It said 3:30. "No, I've got a better idea. Watch this." I e-mailed to Jeanne, "Timing problems solved. Will give you details tomorrow, at your convenience."

     "Now, get your coat, and we're out of here. You do like Chinese, right?"

     Terri and I treated each other to a really great celebratory Chinese dinner, including a couple of Scorpion Bowls, and had more fun than we had since we'd started on this project. It was so relaxing, and it seemed totally natural to invite her back to my place for a movie afterward.

     I asked her what she wanted to see and she said "Whatever you like, you've done a great job so far. But let me get something from the convenience store first."

     I decided that we would watch Bull Durham, one of my all-time favorites. A nice light old school comedy, but with enough good sex to make it really interesting. When she returned from the store, she wouldn't tell me what she'd bought, so I wouldn't tell her what I'd decided on. "Guess we'll just have to surprise each other tonight," I said, and started my car. I hoped she'd read my message in as many ways as I'd meant it.

     Between the day's success, the good food, and the immodest amounts of liquor we'd drunk, we were both in a euphoric state, and ready to enjoy ourselves. I started streaming the video, and listened as she crashed around in my kitchen with whatever she'd bought. After a few minutes, she came back in with a couple bowls, apparently with ice cream in them under huge amounts of hot fudge and whipped cream. She set them down on the coffee table and handed me a spoon, then sat beside me on the couch. "So, let's see this movie you've picked out," she said, and hit the remote control. I turned out the light at my end of the couch, and for the next 20 minutes we indulged in our ice cream and laughed at the movie.

     "You want some more?" she asked, as she took our empty bowls into the kitchen.

     "Maybe later," I said. "Now come back and keep me company." As she sat down at the opposite end of the couch, I said, "Could I persuade you to join me at this end?" To my great satisfaction, she didn't require any persuasion as she moved next to me and leaned back against me.

     "How 'bout some more of that great brain stimulation that you were giving me last night?" she said.

     "Nope, no brains tonight," I teased. "Got anything else you want stimulated?"

     "Well... Pick up where you left off last night, and I'm sure we can think of something from there." I didn't need to be told twice, and started massaging her shoulders and neck. I worked my way out from there, getting more and more daring. I'd occasionally throw in a random hug, or a kiss on the back of her neck, becoming steadily more encouraged by her responses. By the time Susan Sarandon and Kevin Costner were in the bathtub, I had my arms around her, one hand inside her sweater teasing at her breast, as I nibbled at her ear and trailed kisses down her neck to her collar. I didn't think she was paying any more attention to the movie until she snuggled back more firmly against me and whispered, "Do you splash like that when you make love in your tub?"

     "I don't know," I whispered back. "I've never done it in my tub. We'll have to find out sometime." Since her lips were so close to mine, I did the obvious thing, and kissed her. I'd always thought that "seeing skyrockets" was just an expression, but the charge that went through me at that moment made me feel like the bicentennial. By the time we broke that kiss, we'd somehow managed to get completely stretched out on the couch, with her lying on top of me and my shirt half unbuttoned. Needless to say, we didn't care much about the movie any more. It could wait; we couldn't. For the next hour, we made out on the couch like a couple of horny high-school kids, gradually losing more and more clothing until I was down to just my underwear and one sock. She had just her panties on, and she was probably the sexiest sight I'd ever seen.

     Her hair was in total disarray, hanging down over one eye. Her smooth, creamy skin was slightly flushed, and in spite of the ceiling fan whirling above us, she was perspiring lightly, and I could feel the slickness of her breasts pressing against my chest. Her eyes, as she brushed her hair aside, were practically throwing off sparks, and her expression said that she was going to devour me the way she had the ice cream not long before. Naturally, I couldn't see myself, but I was looking back at her the same way.

     She raised herself up off of me slightly, looked down the length of our bodies, and said, "We're overdressed."

     I looked into her eyes, and with all the sincerity I could muster, said, "You're right. Help me get this sock off." She stared at me for a moment, then collapsed back onto me, laughing as if it was the funniest thing she'd ever heard. Her laughter was contagious, and the gentle shaking of her body against mine quickly got me started as well.

     After a moment, in a mock-serious tone, she said, "Stop it. Stop laughing right now, or I'll have to make you stop." Naturally, in my condition, that too seemed pretty funny, and got me going even harder. "All right, then," she said, "this should stop you." With that, she lowered her mouth to my neck, and bit gently. I've always had a weakness for love-bites, and my laughing instantly turned to gasps of pleasure. Taking her cue, she continued down my neck, then started kissing my chest, and worked her way across to one nipple. Mine are very sensitive, perhaps unusually so for a man, and many women don't know how to deal with it. Not the case with Terri. She had clearly done this to a man before, and obviously enjoyed it. For the next twenty minutes, I lay on the couch, gasping, panting, and actually crying out a few times as she licked, sucked, and lightly bit at my nipples. Although she hadn't done anything below my waist, my erection was tingling like crazy, and I wasn't far from coming.

     "Wait...slow down!" I whispered between gulps of air.

     "What's wrong, Love?" she asked. "Going to come so soon?" She had a wicked gleam in her eye as she slid off of me, kneeling in front of the couch, her mouth gluing itself to my nipple again as her left hand slid down to caress my twitching erection through the cotton of my underwear. She knew what she was doing, I realized, and I wasn't going to deny either of us the pleasure of letting her finish. "Just relax and let it happen," she said, "and don't try to hold back. I want to see your face when you come." I couldn't have lasted another minute after that, even if I had tried to resist. She must've known from the way my entire body stiffened when I started coming. My eyes were closed, but I could feel her eyes on my face as her hand eased my cock out of my underwear and she began stroking it. Not jerking, just slowly stroking, encouraging me to pump out a bigger load. Under her touch, I had built up an incredible pressure, and felt warm, sticky globs splattering my chest and stomach, a few drops even landing on my own throat.

     When I had finished, I opened my eyes and found her gazing back into them from just inches away. She kissed me deeply, her tongue exploring deep inside my mouth, then pulled back and said, "You. Are. Beautiful," emphasizing each word as if it were some important declaration. I'm hardly beautiful, especially after almost two days without a shave, but there was no doubting the sincerity in her voice, or her eyes. And if she thought I was beautiful, I certainly wasn't going to complain. "I loved doing that to you. Being able to overpower you, the way you've always overpowered me. Gods, I don't think I've ever been this hot before!" I had no idea that I had ever overpowered her, and thought of the many times I'd been left speechless as she swung her strong, graceful body past me in a hallway or office. Had we both been in mutual awe of each other all this time? Seemed like.

     "You're beautiful," she repeated, "but you need some cleaning up!" Before I knew what was happening, her mouth was at my throat again, and she was working her way down my body, delicately lapping at the pools of semen as she found them. When she'd finished, she said, "Mmm. You're sweet all over. Ice cream eaters always make the best lovers." I pulled her to me and kissed her, cleaning her lips and sliding my tongue into her mouth, sharing my own taste with her. She was right, it was sweeter than I'd expected. When I let her go again, she whispered, "Not just sexy, but brave, too. Every man wants a woman to swallow, but how many will do it themselves?"

     I pulled her back on top of me on the couch, and we lay there gently kissing for a few minutes. "Ready for more?" I asked.

     "Oh, definitely. But are you?" she replied.

     "Don't worry about me. This is only the second round. Let me satisfy you before we even think about finishing this night. Come on, we'll be much more comfortable in the bedroom." I coaxed her to her feet, then led her by the hand to my bedroom. Even though I'd been sleeping alone for quite a while, I have a queen-size bed, and I was looking forward to sharing it with her.

     My bed, of course, was unmade. I'd been kind of frantic when I dashed out the door that morning. She sat on the edge of it, and made a face. "What's wrong?" I asked. She rummaged under the bedspread for a moment, and pulled out the object she'd sat on.

     "What's this?" she asked, looking at it quizzically.

     "Oh. That's a squash racquet. It doesn't belong there."

     "Do you play?" she asked, as I took it from her and put it in the closet.

     "No, I've never tried. That belongs to a friend of mine. Now, what were we doing?" I wanted to get her mind back on the subject quickly.

     "Well, I think we were about to take off the rest of our clothes," she said, and slid her satiny panties off. "I hope you know how to use one of these things!" she said with a grin.

     I stepped out of my own underwear. "I don't make any promises, but I'm certainly willing to try," I replied, and pushed her back down onto the bed, covering her body with my own.

     "Got tired of me being on top?" she asked.

     "Do you want to talk, or do you want to kiss?" I teased, and put my best lip-lock on her before she could respond. As Terri could tell you now, I'm more than a little lazy in bed, and never complain about having her on top. But I had promised her some satisfaction, too, and I was determined to give it to her. Eventually. It was still early, and there was no sense rushing things. After all, there was a lot of gorgeous body to be covered, and so far I hadn't even gotten below her neck. Fortunately, I knew how to remedy that.

     After a few minutes, I started moving down. First across her chin, and into the deep hollow of her throat, moistening her skin with my lips and tongue. I don't go for slobbering kisses, but I was leaving a damp little trail as I went. Now, I don't think I was doing anything really unusual, but I've concluded that Terri has maybe fifty or sixty times as many nerve-endings as the average woman, because she was already starting to shake before I'd even reached her breasts. This was great fun for me, obviously, and since I love to torment a lover with pleasure, I was taking full advantage of her. Naturally, I ignored her threats to "kill me if I didn't do it now." I knew she was just kidding. I kissed my way up to one nipple, then flicked my tongue across it, and quickly retreated, working my way across to the other one. After repeating this a few times, I found that I could stop just short of her nipple, and keep her in suspense. We would look into each other's eyes, then I would flick my tongue out again. It was like hitting a trigger, as she yelped and thrust her body off the bed at me. Two thoughts were going through my mind at the moment: First, "What will it be like when I start going down on her?" and second, "Thank gods I don't have a roommate!"

     But I'm basically a nice guy. I didn't want to get my new lover too frustrated, and by this time she was perspiring heavily and squirming all over the bed. "Need something to cool you off, Sweetheart?" I asked. She nodded, and I headed for the kitchen. Inspiration struck and I paused in the bedroom doorway. I looked back at her, with her eyes closed and hands on her breasts. "How much do you trust me?" I asked.

     "Do whatever you want to me," she answered.

     "You sure?"

     "Do I have to put it in writing? I will, you know," she said.

     "No, your word is good enough for me. Be right back." I wasn't right back, because it took me a few minutes in the kitchen to get ready. As I approached the bedroom carrying a small tray, I told her, "Close your eyes. I've got a couple surprises here," and put the tray on the nightstand out of her line of sight. First I handed her one of the glasses of water I'd brought, and let her drink deeply from it. When she was done I told her to lie down and close her eyes again. I took a spoonful from the bowl of ice cream I'd brought in, and brought it to her lips. "Open up, Sweetheart," I said, and brushed the spoon across her lips. She opened her mouth, and I fed her a tiny bit of ice cream, deliberately smearing some on her lips. I set down the spoon, and kissed her lips clean. The mixture of cold and hot, with the sweet chocolate mingling with our mouths, was incredible. After a single deep kiss, I withdrew, and fed her some more in the same way, feeling the glob of rich ice cream melt between our tongues.

     Time to start moving again, though. With just the teaspoon, I began working my way down her body, enjoying her shivers every time I brought it down on her skin, looking into her eyes each time I did. In just a minute, I had painted a sticky trail of melting ice cream down the middle of her body: across her chin, her throat, between her breasts, pooling deeply in her navel, and stopping just short of the small triangle of pubic hair.

     "You bastard!" she practically screamed as I surveyed my work of art.

     "Aww, Baby, you said 'Do whatever you want to me,' didn't you? Well, this is what I want."

     "Oh, I love it, but it's COLD! Warm me up now, please?"

     "Had to make you cold to make you hotter," I said. "Now comes the fun part." Just as she had licked me clean earlier, I slid up alongside her body, kissed her again, and started swabbing the ice cream away with my tongue. Of course, as it melted, it had left small rivulets of liquid chocolate down the sides of her neck, which I eagerly licked clean. I teased all the way down her body, kissing and licking thoroughly to get her as clean as possible. She began laughing hysterically when I poked my tongue into her navel, and I made sure to get her especially clean there.

     When I reached the end of the trail I'd made, I looked back up at her. She tangled her fingers in my hair and said, "You're not stopping there, are you?"

     "That was just the first course," I said. "Can't go leaping straight for dessert, can I?"

     "You can, you can!" she said. "Unless you've got something better in mind." I did. I'd found the leftover hot fudge from earlier, and I'd microwaved it to a little above body temperature. I took the bowl from the tray, dipped two fingers in it, and repeated the ice cream ritual, painting her lips and feeding her a dab of it. Unlike the cold ice cream, when I kissed her this time, all I could taste was more hot. "You're not putting that on me, are you?" she asked.

     "Relax. I'll give you a bath later. Let's just keep the sheets clean."

     "I thought this only happened in '9 and 1/2 Weeks'," she said.

     "Never seen it," I said, lying through my teeth. "Now hold still!" With that, I scooped a couple more fingers full out of the bowl, and smeared the hot fudge on her right nipple. Sensitive as always, she arched her back and moaned as I smeared it thickly around in a widening circle. A little more there, and then I moved to her other breast, making it look as if her nipples had suddenly doubled in size and turned chocolate-brown. I slipped my fingers into her mouth and let her suck them clean, then moved down to kneel between her legs. I stretched out on top of her, my weight on my hands, and my face right on a level with her breasts. Remembering the way she'd responded to a single flick of my tongue earlier, I expected I'd need to hold her down for this treatment.

     I'd been fairly gentle with her up to this point, but now I started sucking deep and hard at her breasts, like a giant starving baby. I needed to taste her deeply, and to make a claim to her that she would remember. And fortunately, Terri isn't a delicate flower. She seemed to understand and appreciate my sudden roughness as I pulled her tender flesh into my mouth, teasing with my teeth and prodding with my tongue while she writhed under my weight. One breast cleaned, I moved to the other, holding her tightly against me all the while. I found that she is as sensitive as me in the nipples, and responded almost as strongly. Although I couldn't quite bring her to orgasm that way, her moans turned to screams and I could feel the wetness between her legs where my stomach rested against her.

     Knowing a perfect moment when it hits me, I slid back down, and buried my face between her thighs. I plunged my tongue into her as deeply as I could, drinking deeply of the sweet juices that she produced. Maybe it was the ice cream I'd just been eating, but I have never tasted a woman so sweet before. In a moment her hips began moving, and I picked up her rhythm, fucking her with my tongue as she thrust against my face. My hands clutched at her thighs, keeping her from squeezing too tightly. I had to make her come! Abandoning my deep thrusts, I took her throbbing clitoris between my lips and began massaging it with my tongue, picking up the pace as her moans increased in tempo and volume. I stroked her thighs and ass with one hand, and slid the other free to grasp hers. As our fingers tangled together, I flashed my tongue across her clit even faster, being rewarded a moment later as she started screaming incoherent love-names and arched her beautiful body completely off the bed. As the first wave broke, I came up for a breath of air, and then went back down on her. Riding the shockwave of her orgasm, I coaxed her into a half dozen smaller ones, until we lay together in an outrageous, sweaty, incoherent, shaking heap.

     Neither of us moved or spoke for at least five minutes, except for me to crawl back alongside her and share the remaining glass of water with her. She recovered faster than I did, as women often do. She rolled on top of me, still mostly exhausted, and we took another kissing break. We just cuddled and kissed, and I stroked her body from her shoulders down to the backs of her thighs, as far as I could reach. Eventually, she slid her hand down between our bodies to where my cock was trapped. It had recovered while I had been trying to bring her off, and was now begging for attention again.

     "I see this beautiful thing is ready for some more action," she said, and I saw that wicked grin coming over her face again. Thinking of what I had done to her earlier, I silently prayed that she was too kind, or too tired, to take revenge on me. "Your turn!" she said, and reached for the hot fudge bowl. Clearly, my hopes had been misplaced. The only thing left to do was take my punishment like a man. And enjoy every second of it, of course! Besides, at least we were out of ice cream.

     Using just one finger, she scooped glob after glob of gooey hot fudge from the bowl and painted my throbbing organ with it. First the head, circling round and round, then up and down the length of the shaft, until no skin at all could be seen. Then, just as I had done to her, she began thoroughly licking me clean, reversing the action she'd used to put it on me. First she slowly licked up one side of my shaft, then down the other, totally ignoring my pleas for mercy, until I could feel her saliva starting to trickle down my thighs. After this wanton torture, the only sticky fudge remaining was the thick coating on the head, which she now plunged deep into her mouth. It was my turn to scream. Her mouth wrapped around me, enveloping me in wet heat, as her tongue swirled round and round, cleaning away every remaining bit of chocolate. She didn't stop then, though, and kept bobbing her head up and down, taking me all the way to the back of her throat on each thrust. Just as she had done, I began moving my hips involuntarily, fucking deeply into her mouth.

     Abruptly, she stopped. "I really want to finish this job," she said, "but I don't know whether I could get you up again. And I need to get fucked now! I've got to have you inside of me. Please, do it to me!" I was in total agreement, as I shifted her over to the clean, dry half of the bed. I reached for my nightstand and pulled a condom from the drawer, but felt her hand on my arm before I could get it open. "Not necessary," she said. "I've got that nice little prescription. But you can wear it if you feel safer with it."

     I knew that I was safe, and Terri and I had talked enough that I knew she wasn't a woman who took chances, so I put it back in the drawer and moved on top of her again. I lay on top of her and kissed her, and then shifted my body forward. Our bodies had gotten to know each other well enough in the last few hours, there was none of the usual first-time fumbling. We were perfectly matched, and I felt myself slip easily into her silky wet opening. We both held our breath for a moment as she spread her thighs a bit further and let me slide all the way into her. Then we were laughing and clutching at each other as our perfect match was completed. After the way I had opened her with my mouth earlier, I had expected a smooth entry, but nothing I could have imagined could have equaled the exquisitely gentle pressure that was holding me inside. Our two bodies locked together, and then, almost involuntarily, I started moving in and out of her. I pulled almost all the way out, then slowly pushed back inside, gradually accelerating the pace, and from the way she met my thrusts, I could tell that this was the way she wanted me.

     With all the excitement leading up to that point, I didn't expect to last long, so I stopped and rested after only a dozen strokes or so, kissing Terri's face and breasts while I got myself back under control. We continued that way, stroking for a few moments, then resting, for only a short time before I knew I couldn't control myself much longer. I gasped deeply, and began really driving into her hard, as she continued trying to meet my thrusts. Soon, though, I was beyond control, aware of nothing but passion and a need to be as deeply inside of her as I could. I could feel her arms around my back, her legs tangled in mine, and could hear her panting encouragement in my ear. Sweat ran down my back, and each time I pounded into her, I was rewarded with a small cry of pleasure. Finally, the dam within me broke, and my entire body was filled with pleasure. I drove into her one last time and stayed there, pumping my orgasm deeply into her, clutching her against me.

     "No, don't stop! I'm coming, too!" she cried out, grinding against me. Before my own orgasm had even subsided, I started pumping into her again, trying to hit the angle she needed. "Turn over!" she said, and we rolled together so that she was astride me. "Let me get off on your cock," she panted, and started bucking her hips back and forth. I reached out and laid my fingers against her clit, stroking it as she rode me. "Yes, yes, that's it! Rub it faster!" Her own hand joined mine, and I reached out to grab her hips, shoving her forward and back as she massaged her clit. Her hair whipped about wildly, and there was a stream of sweat running down between her breasts, when finally she threw her head back, let out a long, low moan, and stopped moving. As if her bones had suddenly vanished, she collapsed on top of me, her mouth searching for mine as we kissed and whispered loving words together.

     Sometime, we must've drifted off to sleep. I was awakened the next morning at eight o'clock to find Terri, myself, and the sheets in a tangled mess, and damn near crippled both of us as we lunged for the alarm clock. After a moment's disorientation, she looked at me with a big, sexy smile and said, "Good morning. I love you. Did last night really happen?"

     "Good morning. I love you. And I think we'll both have the bruises to prove that it happened." We had not gone easy on each other, and I was wondering if sex between us was going to be like that every time. I fell back into bed and started kissing her, everywhere I could get my lips while she tried to do the same to me.

     "Time for a quicky?" she asked.

     "How about a shower instead," I suggested, "then a nice breakfast, and a day of anticipating tonight. We are supposed to be at work in an hour."

     "Work?" she said, in mock-horror. "I can't go to work without my brains."

     "Without your brains? I don't get it," I said. I'm a little slow in the morning.

     "Damn right, no brains. Because we certainly screwed our brains out last night."

     I laughed at that, and hauled her out of bed toward the shower. Washing each other was a lot of fun, and if we hadn't run out of hot water, we never would've made it to work. As it was, I barely got there by nine, and Terri was a half hour late, after going home and changing her clothes.

     At eleven we met with Jeanne to show her the revised specs and explain how we'd solved the timing problem. It was hard to keep my mind on business, knowing how hot a lover my partner was. Especially since she'd whispered to me earlier that she'd already packed a bag for that night. And noticing the trouble she was having walking around the office. And all the little reminders of what had gone on the night before. We did manage to get through the meeting okay, and Jeanne was quite pleased with our results. The best part was what she said to us a the end of the meeting, though.

     "You two have been putting in too many late nights," she said. "If you can still get the doc written by Monday, why don't you both take the rest of the day off, and rest up."

     Well, we took the rest of the day off, but I don't know if you could call it resting...