Crimson and Clover
Crimson and Clover
Songs: Crimson and Clover, by Tommy James and the Shondells
Cry to Me, by Solomon Burke
Sea of Love, by Phil Phillips
Tonight is the Night, by Solomon Burke
Chapter 4
“Lime” was one of those nouveau cuisine, fusion restaurants that have been springing up all over Nashville in the past decade. With more and more celebrities calling Nashville home, everyone from Jack White, to Cheryl Crow to Nicole Kidman, the image of the city had to reflect its newfound “coolness”.
Caleb was on time, picking her up in his sleek, light-coloured Lexus. He was dressed rather formally, in a white shirt, with carefully rolled and pressed sleeves above his elbows, a tie, and expensive dark jeans.
“Hey, babe,” he greeted her, standing against the car. “Looking good.”
She did look nice today. Though never much into clothes, she had a few nice dresses, and tonight she picked her favorite—a sleeveless number with a very plunging neckline and a black silk sash. She hoped that she would not meet anyone she knew in this dress, because her parents would find out at once that not only she was with a man, but also “inappropriately” dressed. Caleb was her private secret. Her pleasure. And she didn’t see herself introducing him to her family as something as mundane, as a “boyfriend”. He wasn’t a boy, and neither was he a friend. He kissed her cheek, and the scent of him, the warmth of his flesh, the smoothness of freshly-shaved cheek filled her senses with all manner of want and need. The kiss on the cheek lingered, and then his arms wrapped around her and he pressed his face into the hollow of her neck.
“You are so pretty, I can’t stand it,” he whispered, her breath hot and moist on her skin.
“Not that pretty,” she contradicted, gently running her hand through his hair.
“Sure are!” he insisted, and then looked at her and added, “all night I was dreaming of your eyes. You know,” he became thoughtful, “no one’s ever looked at me the way you do. I don’t know how to describe it, but there is no expectation in your eyes. I only, maybe, get that from Nate. But he is my brother and a man. Women always look at me, and I know that they want something. But you,” he shook his head in silent assessment, “it’s like you only see me. Not what I can give you.”
“I do only see you. And you don’t have to give me anything. I already have everything I need. Believe me, I do.”
She took his hand and he walked her to the passenger seat, where he opened the door for her.
They drove downtown and every so often, he gave her a loving, excited look, as if seeing her was the best possible thing that could happen to him at that moment.
The restaurant was a frou-frou place of modern design and overly attentive wait staff. They seem to have been aware of who Caleb was, because they greeted him with a “Mr. Followill” and led them to a very nice table, a little away from prying eyes.
“You come here often?” she asked.
“Been here a few times. The food is good. The scene maybe isn’t my favorite, but I come here to eat and not be seen.”
They drank very good wine, and she wasn’t even carded. The food was an ambiguous “Latin-fusion” variety, but true to Caleb’s promise, it was very good. She tucked into a dish of trout with diakon, crab, arugula, and six other ingredients.
“Do you like it?” he worried.
She smiled and nodded.
“It’s great!”
“I didn’t know if you’d enjoy food like this. I do. But you never know with others.”
“My father used to work for a large pharmaceutical company, so he travelled all over the world. Sometimes my mother and I would come along. I’ve been to many places, and eaten many things.”
“Really?” he was obviously pleased, and probably surprised. “I only just discovered all this cuisine when I started touring in Europe and in Australia. South America also has good food.”
“So, how did you become this? This rock singer being the son of a preacher? Did you always want to be a singer?”
“No. I wanted to be a preacher. I was convinced that I would be. I never ever sang in church, or in public in general. My parents wanted me too, but I was too shy. I wrote a sermon back when I was 10 years old.’
“Did you deliver it?”
“No,” he shook his head and she sensed regret in his answer.
“What did you call it?”
“ “Why Beg for Bread, When You Live in a Wheat Field”.”
“Sounds heavy for a 10 year old.”
“I was pretty intense, when I was a kid. My cousin Nacho says that I haven’t changed since I was 6 years old.”
“Oh, G-d! You were a messed up 6 year old then!” she laughed.
“Thanks.”
“So you didn’t become a preacher. What did you want to do?”
“I dropped out of school when I was a junior, and went to work construction. Did a lot of construction…siding, fucking roofing—that was a bitch!”
She tried to imagine him roofing houses—handsome, muscular, glistening with sweat, that crucifix shining in the sunlight, blue eyes luminous, amber hair bleached by the sun.
“What?” he asked, seeing her mind wander.
“Nothing. Just imagined you as a construction worker…Not a bad sight, I would think.”
He laughed.
“Don’t know. I suppose. But it didn’t last long. I was already writing songs by then, and then one day we decided to go to Nashville. Nacho and I went to our boss, at the construction site and told him that we were quitting. He laughed at us and said that we’d be back. “They always come back,” he said.”
Caleb chuckled and then added,
“So far, we haven’t been back.”
“I don’t think that you are going back any time soon,”
“Caleb!” two young women, with English accents approached their table. “Are you Caleb Followill?” asked one again.
He nodded. Giddy with excitement, stumbling over their words and their feet, they babbled something about him being their favorite singer, their love for Kings of Leon, and how they came all the way from Manchester in hopes of meeting him.
Caleb was extremely gracious and talked to them calmly and respectfully. He asked them questions and answered theirs, and they interrupted each other, each trying to get a word in. Then he signed all the papers that they founds in their purses—napkins, receipts, a book, as well as tissues.
“Please take a photo of us,” asked one of the girls, thrusting a camera into her hands.
She obliged, snapping multiple pictures of the three of them. At last, the girls left.
The encounter fascinated her, because that part of his life, the one that excited these girls to such a degree that they made a trip across the ocean just to see him, was completely unfamiliar to her.
“Sorry. It happens sometimes,” he said, a little embarrassed.
“Wow, so you are really popular,” she marveled.
“It’s a little crazy in England,” he confessed. “We can’t walk the streets easily. Walking down the street, we are bound to be stopped again and again. And then the ladies in England,” he stopped abruptly.
She smiled.
“Are willing?”
“Very willing,” he nodded. “Sorry. You probably don’t want to hear about that.”
“That part of you is interesting to me,” she assured him. “It’s a little strange, because I never saw you on stage, or heard your singing, but it’s interesting never the less. But what would you be, if you weren’t singing?”
He shrugged.
“Who knows…Might have stayed in construction, but I doubt it. Nate says we’d be paining houses like our dad, in Oklahoma. Or we’d be living with our mama…” he laughed. “I think I would’ve become a chef.”
“A chef?” she exclaimed. “You cook?”
“I love cooking. Yes.”
“Are you good?”
“I think I am pretty good. And here is what we are going to do—you’ll come back to the farm tomorrow, and I’ll make you dinner.”
“BBQ?”
“No, no,” he drank his wine, “not BBQ. I am good at grilling too, but I am going to cook real food for you. You know, in pots and pans.”
“Ah…in pots and pans…All right then.”
“And you’ll meet Nate, and maybe the other boys.”
“Approval?” she gave a lopsided smile.
He paused and actually thought about the question.
“Maybe,” he said at last. “I don’t know. I guess I’d like to know what he thinks,”
“Of every girl? Every girl you ever go out with?”
“No. I don’t go out with a lot of girls. Actually, I go out with very few girls. Very rarely. I guess I sleep with a lot of girls, but it usually ends there.”
There it was, the typically brutal honesty. It cut her a little bit, but she knew that she would have to get used to his being non-chalant about some of the things he said.
He found her hand on the table and covered it with his.
“But with you, it’s different, me thinks,” he concluded. ‘You aint just for boning in the back of the bus.”
She chuckled and said,
“I guess I should feel good about that.”
They split a green tea crème brulee, and gallantly, he let her eat all of the delicious raspberry coulis that was drizzled on the plate.
Days passed. She went to the farm almost daily. Caleb wanted to have her at his side almost obsessively. He was never rude or mean to her. Even when he was drunk, which was often, he didn’t cross whatever line he set for himself. He loved kissing her and their interludes were becoming more and more passionate, but not necessarily sexual. He was yet to even see her breasts. It seemed that he was in no hurry to consummate the relationship, however much he wanted to.
She tried to maintain the appearance of normality in her life. She worked for Uncle Gus on scheduled days and went to her parents’ when she was expected. On Wednesdays, she went shopping with her mother, just like she always did, and she attempted to meet her friends, but that was harder. She really wasn’t particularly interested in seeing anyone other than Caleb, and occasionally his brothers, who accepted her into the fold painlessly and without passing judgment. She worried about Nathan’s reaction to her, because Caleb really did listen to his older brother, but Nathan was cool. He started calling her “kid”, teased Caleb about his fascination with her, tried to have her admit that she was a virgin—she didn’t budge either way—and wrote a “song” for her, entitled “Fresh Pussy”. Once he put her through the wringer, and she passed all his “tests”, she became a staple at the farm.
The boys drank, rode their fourwheelers, and played golf. A lot of pot was smoked and even more booze was drunk on regular basis. The amount of alcohol that this family consumed was incredible, yet they had a very strong work ethic. They played, rehearsed, Caleb wrote songs almost daily. There was a rhythm to their life that was unhurried and simple.
Everyone was aware of Caleb’s relationship with her, and all the brothers and cousins kept a respectful distance. As much as there was horsing around and lots of rough and tumble, she quickly began to realize that Caleb was as much of a driving force behind the band, as he was a destructive, fierce, uncontrollable force. He wasn’t above picking and getting into fights with people around him, despite his generally amiable character. So at the end, whatever kept him sane and peaceful in life, at least to a certain degree was welcome. And right now, she was the one thing that grounded him and made him genuinely pleasant to be around.
The two of them hardly ever left the farm, and it was satisfactory for both of them. Caleb turned out to be a very good cook indeed, so nightly he whipped up delicious meals, and then they would sit on the porch, drink a little, and he would play guitar and sing. Occasionally the boys played horseshoe or other some such country game that required no special equipment and had virtually no rules. Poker was played all the time, and fights occurred with predictable regularity, usually over who won in some game.
The heat of summer had dropped off a little, and the temperatures lingered at a pleasant 82-84F. She drove to the farm wondering how she lived without knowing Caleb all this time. Right now, he was such an integral part of her life, that being without him seemed utterly incomprehensible to her. Bees buzzed all around the multitudes of clover flowers that covered the property. Cows grazed peacefully in the distance and a gentle breeze ruffled the tops of weeping willows and ash trees.
“Hey kiddo,” greeted her Nathan. He was smoking on the front porch, swinging in a swing with a bottle of Michelob Ultra.
“Hi Nate. How are you?”
“Not a bad day to be alive,” he said with satisfaction. “He aint here. He went fishing earlier in the day to the creek. Said that when you come over, you should be heading that way.”
He paused and then added, “I am glad that you are here.”
“Why?”
“Ahh, he’s been an ass today. When you are not here, all we do is dodge blows! I give you a lot of credit. You do something to him that makes him normal!”
“He is always normal,” she argued, “maybe it’s you who make him crazy.”
Nathan laughed and shrugged.
“I won’t deny it.”
She left her bag in the house and then made her way to the creek, which was meandering through the property. There was one particular spot where she knew Caleb would be—he liked the isolation of it and the beautiful scenery. Weeping willows sadly hung their branches over the water. The sky was no longer the azure blue of noon, but tinted with the deeper shades of purple and turquoise of later hour. She saw him at once, sitting alone and immobile, with the fishing pole next to him. He always cut a slightly sad figure to her, and she couldn’t explain why. There was a sense of loneliness about him, which she didn’t feel from anyone else. An old transistor radio played “Sea of Love”. It was exactly something that the old-fashioned Caleb would listen to. A blanket was spread over the grass, surrounded by clovers.
She stepped quietly, and when she was behind him, she slipped her hands over his eyes. He smiled as she kissed his neck, scratchy and delicious beneath her lips. He removed her hands from his eyes and kissed the inside of her palms.
“My sunshine is here,” he greeted her.
“There is sunshine all around you,” she murmured, kissing his ear softly, her teeth meeting the little bump of cartilage and biting it.
“Nah. Just you right now. You are my sunshine, my only sunshine, you make me happy, when skies are gray,” he sang.
“Caught anything?”
“Yeah…it’s been biting today. I am making you freshly caught trout for dinner. And I think there is also carp. There is beer in the cooler.”
She went to fetch beer for both of them and when she handed him one, he patted the place next to him.
“Your Uncle Gus is annoying the living fuck out of me,” he then announced.
“Uncle Gus? What did he do to you?” she asked, confused.
“He keeps you away from me! You ought to be here, at the farm, with me. Not help him out in his dingy little bar. Cant someone else bring jalapeño poppers and buffalo wings to customers?”
She laughed and kissed his hand that rested on her knee.
“You are cranky today.”
“G-d damn right I am cranky. It’s four o’clock and you’ve just arrived! If this keeps on happening, I am just going to go to the bar myself and get you.”
For a moment, she imagined what the scene would look like if Caleb Followill came to retrieve her from her Uncle’s bar, and the image was somewhat disturbing.
“I am not working for the next three days,” she placated him.
“Good to know. Please stay here for the next three days. Don’t go home.”
“You know, you have abandonment issues,” she said.
“Thanks. I am aware,” he said tartly.
She got up and kissed the top of his head.
“I’ll go lie on the blanket. I have to finish reading a chapter for my class. Between you and Uncle Gus, I have no time to study!”
“Now she needs to study,” he muttered. “I get no love here! Five minutes, and she is already out of my sight.”
“I am two feet away. Catch another fish and come to me.”
She stretched on the blanket, crossing her long brown legs in front of her. Though she tried to read, her mind wandered. The sun burned her ankle a little, but she didn’t want to move. The air smelled of grass, hay and water. All she really wanted to do was to watch this man. His broad muscular back, his neck, partially covered with his longish hair, and the gleaming chain of his crucifix. The contours of his round bicep were perfectly visible from his sleeveless t-shirt, as was the silly tattoo of a splattered frog with a huge cock that was inked into his upper shoulder. As stupid as the frog looked, she liked kissing it and in his usual manner, he complained that she kissed the frog’s penis before she had kissed his. As she watched him, dozing off a little, she realized with utmost clarity that she was completely and irreversibly in love with him.
He slipped on the blanket beside her and woke her up.
“I thought that you were supposed to have been studying?” he smiled, taking her in the crook of his arm and gently placing kisses all over her face.
Her arm slipped over his neck and she reached for his lips. Her tongue passed the side of his mouth and she noticed the Adam’s apple contacting with pleasure.
“It’s not fair,” he whispered, his hand cradling her head, as his rough fingers brushed her cheeks.
“What isn’t?”
“That you have all the power in the relationship. All women do.”
“Not over this relationship, I don’t,” she murmured, opening her mouth slightly, to accept his probing, searching tongue between her lips. He licked steadily on her tongue, as if he was hungry, his arms tightening around her, her nostrils filled with the scent of his body. Her hand slipped down his back, over the ridges of his muscles and slid under his shirt, to find the hollow of his lower back, where sweat made her fingers sleek.
“Let’s go swimming,” he whispered between kisses, with which he filled her mouth and covered her flesh. She felt her sex fill with the warmth of her arousal, wetness bathing her insides with desire.
“I don’t have my bathing suit,” she protested.
A wicked, warm smile spread over his face and one brow cocked, he said,
“I was hoping you wouldn’t.”
Gingerly, he opened the two top buttons of her dress with one hand, still holding her close to him. Then he paused, but she kissed his chin, covered in bristly stubble and buried her face in his neck, whispering, “Keep going.” He didn’t ask questions, and quickly unbuttoned the rest of the buttons, parting the dress with impatient hands, and helping her wiggle out of it. For a moment, she regretted not having fancier undergarments. Hers were simple plain white cotton ones, unadorned underwear and bra and she figured that he was used to something a little fancier from all the women he’s been with. But then she glanced down, at her tanned, healthy, slim body and thought that it contrasted well with the shocking white of her lingerie. Besides, she wasn’t expecting to be naked with Caleb earlier today, when she left Uncle Gus’s.
He gushed a little when he saw her, and pulled away, to study her closely, his heavy brown hand slowly moving from her shoulder down to her belly. She propped herself on her elbows, watching the slow descent of his hand, her forehead pressed into his cool shoulder, imagining all the delicious things that those thick fingers would be doing to her. Curiously, she felt no fear, or even apprehension. It was a little surprising, but she considered the alternative—a quick, heated, drunken mess on a flip-n-fuck in someone’s basement, with a dude named Jim or Billy Bob.
His hand paused at the edge of her white underwear and he brushed the backs his fingers against her cheek.
“Stop me, if you are not ready,” he whispered. “I might not the man you’d want to do this the first time.”
She took his mouth in hers, fully, embracing it with her lips, allowing her tongue to slide over his full lower lip, while her hands held him close to her body. He kissed her back, unhurried, but eager, his hand covering her bottom and pulling her hips to his, where she felt the tension and the heat from his jeans.
“Caleb,” she pulled away, breathless and looked straight into his ocean blue eyes, which were speckled with gold dust. He thought that she was going to bring this to the end, and recoiled immediately, but not quickly or skillfully enough for her not to see the disappointment written all over his face. She put her arm around his torso and murmured,
“This is probably the wrong time to say this to you. Probably wrong to say it all together. But I will, because I want you to know,”
“What is it?” there was concern in his voice.
“Well…” she glanced down, then back at him and said at last, “I am in love with you. There will never be anyone I’d rather be with now, or ever, than you. So you take it as you see fit, but I wanted you to know that you are the most beautiful to me and that I love you. And I wish you’d understand that it’s not some virginal infatuation…or not because you are a rock star or anything like that. I just love you. You are always on mind. When I go to bed at night, and the first thing in the morning—it’s always you. I know that lots of people love you, but add another person to the list. Me. Because to me…to me, you are perfect.”
“Girl, it aint fair for you to say it so pretty. And before me,” he exclaimed with annoyance.
She smiled.
He added,
“You know that I can’t say it in this way. It’s like…I can’t sing beautifully yet, because I don’t have it in me to lay myself bare like that. But it’s also hard for me to come out and say to you that you are the most wonderful and beautiful thing that I know. Everything seems okay to me, when I know that you are near me.
“And that’s the reason that I am not so eager to pop your cherry, as much as I want to, and have wanted it from the moment I saw you. You are my little precious beauty, that’s what you are.”
“But I insist that cherry be popped!” she laughed softly into his neck.
He kissed her, running his fingers through the mass of her hair, and then down to her cheek. She took his hand and kissed his fingertips.
“Well, if you insist,” he chuckled, and with one swift motion, he pulled her white underwear down, pinning her hands lightly to the ground, knowing in advance that she’d try to cover herself. She made the move, but he held her, unobtrusively though, and pressing his damp forehead into her cheek, he whispered,
“I want to see. Please.”
She stroked his cheek and kissed its stubbled roughness, before nodding briefly. His large, rough hand slithered down her stomach, over her hip, leaving a shiver-inspiring trail of chillbumps over her heated skin. In one swift motion, he tore off his t-shirt and threw it aside, as his impatient hands clasped her waist and he traced a line from her bra to her navel with the tip of his tongue.
“Ever since I saw you first, in your white dress, with your brown legs and arms, that’s what I’ve been obsessing about,” he whispered into her belly, his warm breath fanning over her pelvis, “seeing you naked. Tasting your skin. Watching you.”
Her legs fell apart, with little prodding from his hands and she propped herself on her elbows, watching his head descend down her torso, until his cheek made contact with her pubic bone and he lightly bit the inside of her thigh. Shuddering from the sensation of his teeth sinking into her flesh, she buckled against him, her sex spreading to his questioning eyes, his fingers sliding over her plump lips.
His head swam with desire, as the mixture of her perfume, grass, sunshine and the sweet smell of her wetness filled his head and unable to help himself, he dove into her, burying his mouth in the warmth of her womb. Wet and pink, she was exactly the way he imagined her to be so many times before, when he tossed in his bed, crazed with uncontrollable lust. And now she was here at last, and he could see her lying naked in his arms, her salty flesh yielding to him, her strong fingers digging into his shoulder, as she moaned above him. He opened her up, her smooth, long thighs wrapped around his shoulders, her luscious slit an open invitation for his fingers and his tongue, and he explored her in excruciating detail, unlike anyone before. Because before, no one interested him to such a maddening degree.
He slipped one finger inside of her and in a moment, raised his head and murmured,
“G-d, you really are a virgin!”
She opened her eyes and looked at him,
“Did you think I was lying?”
“No,” he shook his head, “not you. Others have. I pretended like I believe them, but I know they were lying.”
He stretched over her, his finger still lodged inside, pressing, massaging, loving. His cross swayed over her breasts, its cool metal a soothing pendulum over her rapidly rising and falling chest.
“I can feel it,” he whispered, his lips softly kissing hers again and again. She tasted herself on his mouth and the realisation spurned a gush of liquid against his fingers.
“For you,” she breathed.
“My own personal “Crimson and Clover”?” he marveled.
“Why?”
She knew that he loved the song, but what it had to do with right now she couldn’t fathom.
“Crimson,” he said, “a girl’s virginal blood. Clover—a field, where she is losing her virginity. We are here, in the song right now. Man, I love you even more for this than you can imagine!”
It was the first time he told her that he loved her, and her heart sunk deep into her belly from excitement and love.
With an easy pop, he undid the front hook of her bra and said with a smile, “Thank G-d for these! If women only knew how much we love the front button…”
Her white full breasts sprung forth, released from the constrains and he sized them up, a pleased smile illuminating his beautiful face.
“Girl, you just can’t disappoint me, can you?”
“Caleb…oh, G-d,” she twisted, wrapping her arms around his body, his cross slipping between her crushed breasts, his strong, muscular chest sliding against her nipples, “I can’t…”
“Shhhhhh,” he kissed her, but she shook her head,
“I can’t stand your fingers…I am obsessed with them…your hands…My G-d…Please, my love,” she bit his chin, brushing her tongue over the slight cleft and then he moved over her, his body towering over her, just as her impatient tongue tangled within the mat of his chest hair. He refused to remove his hand from within her, and teased her mercilessly, molding her sex against the thickness of his fingers, as he held the back of her head, gently nudging her towards his chest. She licked on him, the salt of his skin, feeling the taut muscles tense beneath it, letting her teeth take impatient, lustful nibbles of his flesh, her tongue swirling over his nipples, her nose filled with his scent. Suddenly, he pushed her down, roughly and pulled his hand out of her. Beads of sweat covered his forehead.
“Fuck, girl! Slow down. I am just a guy! My cock is about to explode!”
Then slowly, he licked his fingers, and murmured, “mmmm”.
Naked, she kneeled next to him and lovingly kissed his lips, before he urged his fingers in her mouth.
“Taste.”
His other arm wrapped around her body, and he cupped her bottom, pushing her closer to his engorged bulge, while she licked his fingers gently, feeling the calluses from guitar strings on the tips of his fingers.
“I have to see it,” she whispered at last, pulling at his belt buckle.
“Hope you like what you see,” he chuckled.
“I have no worries,” she assured him with a smile. While she wrestled with his jeans, he dipped his head and kissed her all the way down from her shoulder to her breast, before popping her nipple in his mouth and sucking it eagerly.
“Your tits are just unbelievable,” he muttered, switching between her nipples, pulling them between his sharp teeth and sucking until they swell within the confines of his mouth. “How the fuck are you a virgin? What is wrong with these men around you?!” he exclaimed.
“Aren’t you happy I’ve waited for you?” she smiled and his kiss was his answer.
Impatiently, she pulled his jeans down his narrow hips and was at last faced with his thick, strong member, hot and so erect it bopped right at his navel.
‘See what you do to me,” he smiled.
“And that’s why I’ve waited all this time,” she whispered, laying her hand on his belly, her fingers running through the hair on his lower stomach.
“Good, thank you, my girl,” he cupped her heavy white breasts in his palms and lightly fingered her nipples. She pushed her breasts deeper in his palms and wrapped her arms around him, kissing his neck, running her tongue over the collarbone, feeling the heat of his erection next to her stomach.
“By the way,” she whispered in his ear, “when you are boning me,”
“Well put,” he laughed loudly, with his most impossible laugh,
“Well, when you are, and one of your brothers arrives, the bumping and grinding stops right then and there!” she warned.
“Why?” he exclaimed innocently, softly biting her nipple.
“Because you aint fucking me in front of your brothers!”
“Wouldn’t be the first time,” he shrugged.
“Not for you. But for me it would be. And I am not losing my virginity to all the Followills. Just the one. So should Nate or Jared make an appearance, we are ending this whole business.”
“You are being ridiculous of course. Totally square. And I aint stopping, no matter who shows up. The whole state fair can have a viewing, but once I am inside of you, the Jaws of Life wont pry me out of you.”
He gingerly laid her down on the blanket and moved between her legs.
“it might hurt,” he warned.
“I am sure I will survive,” she smiled at him and stroked his cheek.
He raised her legs, kissing the inside of her thighs slowly, until his tongue made a wide, luxuriant swipe over the surface of her sex and she cried out, unable to keep her eyes open for another second. Sweat broke all over her body and his licking tongue felt like sweet, lacerating flame over her throbbing clit. Only for a moment did she manage to open her eyes, when the thick, smooth head of his shaft parted her folds and stretched the tight walls of her womb.
He moaned her named into her lips, as he pushed inside of her, spreading and widening her as he slipped forth, rupturing the barrier and hearing her gasp sharply. She clung to his lips, her legs wrapping loosely around his torso, while he pushed and pushed, licking on her pale, soft breasts and on her lips.
The heavy singular slide of his long, bold member inside of her was so astonishingly enjoyable, that her breath was knocked out of her lungs for a long moment and she was stilled by the sheer, indescribable pleasure of it.
“Oh, G-d!” she cried at last, squeezing the back of his neck with all the brutality that her fingers were capable of.
“I am sorry,” he muttered, thinking that he had hurt her, but she ground her hips down on him and reached hungrily for his mouth. Her back arched and his warm hand slipped under her, to hold her up, just as he kissed her warmly, lovingly, licking the side of her mouth gently, just like he always liked to do. He grew and expanded inside of her, and even when she thought that he could reach no further, he did, filling her with the throbbing, overwhelming heat of his member. But she knew that his patience was gone at this point, as he flexed his hips into her, pushing and pulling with forceful, determined rhythm, his cross swaying steadily over her chest, her breasts gliding in generous waves beneath the tickling hair of his chest.
“Oh my G-d,” he muttered, his voice strangled from tension and pleasure. “You are tight as a rope…Girl, you are so beautiful, I can’t even describe it. How you feel…”
“Caleb, Caleb…”
“Can I go deeper in you? I don’t want to hurt you anymore…”
“It’s wonderful. You are not hurting me at all! Go as deep as you want to.”
He propped himself on his arms, his muscles massive next to her head, his vein bulging deliciously as he begin to slide rapidly in and out of her. She licked on the vein, on his chest, sucked his nipple, bit his strong arm, loving the feel of his hair on her tongue. The obsessive need that overtook her was fuelled further by the steady rubbing of her tender swollen clit against his pelvis, against the mass of his impossibly pleasurable pubic hair. Their sweat mingled in the heat of the summer evening and the smell of grass and clover saturated their skin, just as they filled the air with the noisy sounds of their sex.
“Oh, goodness…please,” she cried out, gulping the fragrant air around her, feeling his flexing buttocks with her ankles. “Please, my love…Caleb…”
“Girl, you are going to come with me,” he muttered into her hair, “and you are going to come good. I aint stopping, ‘till you are thrashing and splattering against me. And,” he smiled wryly, “you can’t fake it, my virgin.”
“Oh, I am yours, all yours. Just please ride me…Please don’t stop.”
Caleb thrust deep, his body hard and straining, rocking them with the power of his hips. She sucked on his fingers and his tongue, driven mindless and exhausted by need and desire. At least, a wave of pleasure began to fill her loins, rising inside her belly, welling higher and higher, cresting against the thickness of his penetrating shaft.
‘Can I come in you?” he murmured, almost begging. “Please, my darling. I want to fill you with me…Will you let me?”
“Caleb, you can come wherever you want, my love,” she encouraged him gently, “G-d, I want you in me. You feel so good…I never thought it would be like this…with you…”
He started sucking her nipples, pushing his face into her breasts, and pumping furiously, working her sex into a heated, leaking frenzy. They crashed against each other, sex to sex, arms, chest and breasts, lips, tongues intertwined until she wailed in joy and pleasure, feeling him shoot of jet of warmth inside of her. Rapidly, he rose and kneeling in front of her, he watched her climax before him, holding onto her knees, drinking on the sight of her writing beautiful body. Smoothing his hands over her belly, he urged her “Come, beautiful, come with me”.
Sealing their mutual coming together with a kiss, he finally withdrew from her.
“Forgive me,” he murmured, seeing the blood smear on her thigh and his member.
“Well, there are clovers all around us…and that’s your crimson,” she whispered with a happy smile and Caleb took her in his arms, lost.
