Little Birds Read Free

had been in a state of desire for days. He wanted to take this woman and he couldn't. He was deeply humiliated.
    Strangely enough, her voice grew tender. "There is plenty of time," she said. "Don't move away. It's lovely."
    Her warmth passed into him. His desire did not return, but it was sweet to feel her. Their bodies lay together, his belly against hers, his sexual hair brushing against hers, her breasts pointed against his chest, her mouth glued to his.
    Then slowly he slipped off to look at her—her long, slender, polished legs, her rich pubic hair, her lovely pale glowing skin, her full breasts very high, her long hair, her wide smiling mouth.
    He was sitting like a Buddha. She leaned over and took his small wilted penis in her mouth. She licked it softly, tenderly, lingering over the tip of it. It stirred.
    He looked down at the sight of her wide red mouth so beautifully curved around his penis. With one hand she touched his balls, with the other she moved the head of the penis, enclosing it and pulling it gently.
    Then, sitting against him, she took it and directed it between her legs. She rubbed the penis gently against her clitoris, over and over again. Louis watched the hand, thinking how beautiful it looked, holding the penis as if it were a flower. It stirred but did not harden sufficiently to enter her.
    He could see at the opening of her sex the moisture of her desire appearing, glistening in the moonlight. She continued to rub. The two bodies, equally beautiful, were bent over this rubbing motion, the small penis feeling the touch of her skin, her warm flesh, enjoying the friction.
    She said, "Give me your tongue," and leaned over. Without interrupting the rubbing of his penis, she took his tongue into her mouth and touched the tip of it with her own tongue. Each time the penis touched her clitoris, her tongue touched the tip of his tongue. And Louis felt the warmth running between his tongue and his penis, running back and forth.
    In a husky voice she said, "Stick your tongue out, out."
    He obeyed her. She again cried, "Out, out, out, out..." obsessively, and when he did so he felt such a stirring through his body, as if it were his penis extending towards her, to reach into her.
    She kept her mouth open, two slender fingers around his penis, her legs parted, expectantly.
    Louis felt a turmoil, the blood running through his body and down to his penis. It hardened.
    The woman waited. She did not take in his penis at once. She let him, now and then, touch his tongue against hers. She let him pant like a dog in heat, open his being, stretch towards her. He looked at the red mouth of her sex, open and waiting, and suddenly the violence of his desire shook him, completed the hardening of his penis. He threw himself over her, his tongue inside of her mouth, and his penis pressing inside of her.
    But again he could not come. They rolled together for a long while. Finally they got up and walked, carrying their clothes. Louis' sex was stretched and taut, and she delighted in the sight. Now and then they fell on the sand, and he took her, and churned her, and left her, moist and hot. And as they again walked, she in front of him, he encircled her in his arms, and threw her on the ground so that they were like dogs coupling, on their hands and knees. He shook inside of her, pushed and vibrated, and kissed her, and held her breasts in his hands.
    "Do you want it? Do you want it?" he asked.
    "Yes, give it to me, but make it last, do not come; I like it like this, over and over and over again."
    She was so moist and feverish. She would walk, waiting for the moment he would thrust her into the sand and take her again, stirring her and then leaving her before she had come. Each time, she felt anew his hands over her body, the warm sand against her skin, his caressing mouth, the caressing wind.
    As they walked, she took his erect penis into her hand. Once she stopped him, knelt before him and held it in her mouth. He stood