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Her shame was in not regretting what happened.

With her legs done, I once again returned to her side and perched myself on the edge of her lounger.

"I think I forgot a part," I mumbled, still not fully believing what was happening.

She smiled.

I placed my hands on the soft flesh above the pelvic bone and traced the tan line to the middle until my fingers met at the hair that crowned her pussy. My experimentation with girls had given me a broad idea of the female anatomy and where all of the important bits were. Tentatively, I ran my fingers through the hair, up and over the pubic mound, and down to the soft folds of her pussy. My heart hammered in my chest. She lifted her legs and spread them slightly. Her labia cradled my finger and I slowly pressed until it disappeared within her moist hole.
I dipped my finger in and out and explored the warmth of her, marveling at the slickness within her and that it hadn't taken me hours of wheedling and several beers to get to this point.

After some minutes, she grabbed my hand and positioned my finger at the apex of her vulva. "There," she said, and took a deep, shuddering breath as I explored the area.

At length I coaxed a hard little pearl out of the surrounding tissue and played my fingers over it. This seemed to be where she wanted me to be. My broad idea of the female anatomy hadn't included this remarkable spot, so I played with it experimentally, judging by her reaction what worked best. What oil I had on my fingers had vanished. I dipped my finger into the well of her pussy and marveled at the increased wetness there. I returned my finger to where it had been and rubbed and pressed the spot with renewed vigor. Her breath was coming in short gasps now and her back arched. She grasped my hand in both of hers and pressed it to her. She moved my hand quickly against herself. Her pelvis rubbed and quivered against my hand and soon she threw her head back and gave a muffled cry. Her body trembled and her proud breasts swayed.

"Oh, God," she gasped.

I was a little alarmed and bemused by what I had awakened in her.

The tremors gradually subsided and she let go of my hand, allowing her arms to flop off the edges of the lounger. The finally opened her eyes and smiled. "That was nice," she said.

Taken by the moment as I had been, I now looked upon the situation with fresh eyes. My fresh eyes couldn't quite convince my brain of the reality of what they were seeing. A tanned and glistening woman -- I couldn't call her a goddess though I was now tempted to -- completely revealed to me, grinning tiredly in what I took to be a post-orgasmic haze.

Her hand between my legs shook me out of my reveries. "It's your turn," she said.

I'd been so wrapped up in her that I'd almost forgotten the boner that I now realized strained painfully against the fabric of my shorts.

She swung her legs out of the lounger and stood. I couldn't recall when I'd ever seen anything so beautiful. "Lie down," she said.

I complied, my mind scrabbling through the possibilities. Would she, in the parlance of the day, make me a man? I imagined my cock within her and almost ruined the possibility right there.

She reached under me and removed my shorts. My cock sprang free and pointed to the sky. "Oh my," she said, "Now I see what you've been hiding from me."

I laughed self-consciously but said nothing, fearing that I'd only be capable of a helium squeak.

She perched herself between my legs at the foot of the lounger. Her fingers traced the insides of my thighs and then moved to my length. The feel of her hands on me threatened to be my undoing.

I averted by gaze, searching for something to distract me. I studied the eavestrough when she grasped me. I observed the clouds that passed overhead when I felt the warmth of... I had to look... the warmth of her mouth enveloping the head of my cock. Oh man.

A spider had constructed the perfect web in the cedar, I saw.

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