Larissa and Benny

Larissa Dawson was destined for Hollywood, or so they said.  She could sing, dance and act.  She had done all three in various school functions when we were kids.  The girl was dynamo talented.  Still is, as far as I'm concerned.

She was going places, the little old bitties at the salon would say.  She would be somebody.  To me she already was.

  She was pushed to get good grades, pushed to stay fit, pressured not only enter, but win the state beauty pageant.  Not that she had any trouble winning.  Larissa was a winner.  It was her mother that could not be satisfied with all Larissa's endeavors.  She always wanted more for her daughter.

  When she wasn't out of town, Larissa volunteered down at our local soup kitchen, collected canned goods for the less fortunate, and entertained at the small nursing home in the heart of our town.  But the most relaxed and at peace I've ever seen Larissa was just before sunrise on those warm, summer mornings, when she'd ride her quarter horse, Shamrock (Shammy for short) five miles from the Dawson's farm to the much secluded Briggs pond, where I'd fish.

  You know how in movies if a really good looking girl makes her way on to the screen, how everything starts moving in slow motion?  How the sunlight catches her hair just right and an almost serene look comes over her?  Well, this happened every time she rode across the field toward Briggs.

  Her chestnut colored hair was waist length, but had a layered cut.  She had huge hazel eyes under sexy, heavy lids.  Her flawless skin had a natural tan to it, even in the winter.  Her perky little nose turned up just a little, giving her round lips a lift and a slight, girly over-bite that showed off her perfect, white teeth.  Her body?  She was like a centerfold come to life.  Her curves above, matched her curves below.  Flawless, she was flawless.

  She had attended a few modeling seminars, therefore she knew just how to put her best assets on exhibit, if you know what I'm talking about.  She'd always ride up wearing some western cut, snap in the front denim shirt with the buttons unsnapped nearly to her middle.  Without fail, she'd have on those faded, frayed, boot cut, low rise jeans and when she'd slide down off Shammy, her pretty, lacy thong would slide up around her hip and make an appearance.

  I was just a nerdy kid, fairly skinny with spiky, brownish-blond hair and freckles.  I don't know what she saw in me.  Guess it was that we'd been friends since we were kids.  Once she told me that she liked my blue eyes and I tell you, it melted my heart.  Of course I didn't let on that she'd gotten to me.  We were just friends and all.  She was used to guys trying to climb all over her and I couldn't do that to her, even though I wanted to.

  On New Years Eve when we were eighteen, I'd been hanging out in the barn, watching her brush Shammy.  God, she loved her horse. She had just gotten back from a trip to New York City and was still dressed in the costume that she'd been wearing for a contest she had been in.

  "Mom rushed us back so we could be here for New Years.”  She explained.  "I'm so happy that you were here when we got home, Benny."

  The costume consisted of a pair of purple, iridescent, sequined hot pants and matching sequined shirt that rode high under her breasts and tied in the middle.  A pair of black, leather boots rode all the way up her firm thighs.  I had a birds-eye view of all this as the long, unbuttoned, dark coat she wore kept opening.

  She continued to brush Shammy, chatting away with me, asking how my folks were, and how our ranch was running.

  I tried hard not to ogle her.  I didn't want her to think I was like those other guys, though I think she understood that I wasn't.

  "Ugh, this stupid coat!" she said, shrugging it off her shoulders and hanging it on a hook outside Shammy's stall.

  She flipped her hair over her shoulder and glanced my way with a devious look in her eyes.  A sly grin formed at the corner of her mouth.

  "You like this Benny?" she said, gesturing to her outfit.

  I didn't know what to say.  So I just stood there, dumbfounded and nodded my head.

  Her grin widened.  There was a radio in the barn, close to the open doors.  She sauntered her long legs over to the doors and pulled them shut, with a bang.  Then she looked at me and put a finger on the radio.  Not taking her eyes off me, she moved the dial until a club song rang out of the radio.  It had lots of base and she turned it up.

  "My folks won't hear a thing."  She said over the beat.  "Mama hasn't seen Daddy for weeks, and they're having a little private time, if you know what I mean."

  I remember thinking, what does she mean?  I was leaning against one of the barn beams and she moved her body in rhythm against the one opposite me.

  "You like me Benny."  It was more of a statement than a question.

  She wrapped her arms around the beam and arched her back.  Her hair went whipping down into the dry hay.  I didn't know she was that flexible!  Her left leg hooked around Shammy's gate and she swung around like a stripper in a night club.  Where did she learn this?  I thought.

  I didn't know what to do, so I stood there, hands stuffed in my pockets, trying to hide a monolithic hard on.  She continued to dance for me, moving closer, finally making contact, breaching the confines of our friendship.

  Her slender fingers clenched my shirt sleeves, balling up the fabric.  Her lips formed a pout and I could see the frustration seething from her.  Our mouths were so damn close, I thought we may end up kissing for the first time, but she threw her head back and I had to catch her at the waist to bring her back up to me.

  "Touch me Benny."  The words I would never forget as long as I walked the Earth.

  With her permission granted, I slid my hands around the soft, tan flesh of her waist.  I must have been nervous, because soon her fingers were intertwined with my own and she mouthed into my ear, "No Benny, slower, like this."

  Once I found a rhythm, my hands were guided up to the rough sequined cloth that bound her breasts.  Keeping my hands in place, she spun in front of me and planted her firm behind against my ambitious member. 

  With the music, she ground her hips into my pelvis, and urged my hands until they grasped her globular mounds with cherry buds of flesh at the center.  I could barely hear her low moan above the music.

  My cheek slid against hers.  Her hand reached up and cupped the back of my head.  "Your hair is still as soft as it was when we were kids."  She said into my ear, over the music.

  I was afraid to question what was happening; afraid I'd break the spell.  I continued to knead and tweak her nipples, all the while one of my hands wanted so badly to make its journey downward.  I wasn't sure.  I waited for her signal but decided to instead give her one of my own. 

  Splaying my fingers, I let one arm fall around her and I started to draw the tip of my fingers across her skin at the waistline of her hot pants.  I pushed the brick in my pants into her bottom.

  She crouched against me, grinding into me in return, breathing hot and heavy on my face.  I was barely aware of anything around me, not Shammy pacing in his stall, not the barn cats scurrying in the silo, not the old, cobwebbed window panes of the barn fogging over.

  At last she faced me.  I kept my arms around her and her body close to mine.  A lock of hair fell over her left eye and the smile came back to the corner of her mouth, a lazy smile.  How I wanted to kiss her, but she knelt down instead and I felt her undoing my belt buckle.  I was astounded at the pace she at which she went from being my closest friend to doing this.  I tried to pull her back up.  I wanted to talk to her, yet I wanted what she offered.  She waved me off with a shake of her fist against my chest.

  All in one zip, she freed my solid tool and it landed with a thud in her hand.  Okay, maybe that was a little grandiose.

  "Rissa, what are you - "  I must have been crazy for interrupting.  Her hand came up again and I felt her long finger nails sweep across my lips.

  She slithered up my body and whispered in my ear.  "Don't ask questions, Benny.  Let me do this."

  What choice did I have?  I could have brushed my beautiful "friend" aside, left the barn, and gone home to what, read, study?  I was aching for this, literally.

  She glanced up at me and smiled.  Not saying another word, she danced her tongue around the bulbous head.  I leaned back and closed my eyes.  The urge was suppressed to thrust myself into the depths of her hot, wet mouth, but I did grasp a handful of her silky hair.

  I spared her a glance.  At last she stopped tantalizing and worked her mouth up and down the shaft.  I could see it glimmering with her slick, shiny saliva.

  Her lips, red, wet and flushed, butter flied around it almost to the base.  I thought I felt myself hit her throat.  Gone again was the scenery, the awareness of where I was.  Rissa was my only focus and suddenly I felt that tightening in my balls.  I knew I was gonna let go, too soon.  I tried to hang on, but decided I should warn her.

  She sensed it, raising her eyes to meet mine.  Her tongue stayed on the base of the head, firmly massaging the spot, while she held her mouth open.  I watched my molten liquid pump into her.

  I was surprised, soon after, when she stood and pushed me, as if she were angry.  She gathered her coat, threw it over her shoulders, gave Sham a pat, and without looking back, left the barn.

  What was that all about? I wondered, wide-eyed and feeling used.  Maybe she was the one who felt used.  I didn’t know.  I gathered what composure I had, zipped myself up and left the barn.  The thought crossed my mind to follow her inside, but I punked out.

  I didn't hear from Larissa for a few weeks.  Nothing unusual, under ordinary circumstances, but I was altogether restless.  All these years of patience just to come to this road block.  I knew when I saw her again that nothing else could happen until we figured out what happened in the barn.

  One Sunday, an hour before sunrise, I was fishing at Briggs.  Not too long after I set my things down, the sound of Shammy's gallop hit my ears.  I stood up and dropped my pole, like a klutz, even before she rode into my field of vision.  I knew the sound of that horse as well as I knew the pattern of freckles on Rissa's shoulders and she was running him hard.

  Instead of the usual dramatized ride into my view, she slammed past me, kicking up mud and sod.  I heard Sham whinny as she slowed him down and brought him back around.  Her face was red, her eyes puffy.  Her hair was pulled back in a pony tail, though some of the layers had fallen out, framing her face.  All of this I could see in the dim dusky, light.  Instead of the jeans and western cut shirt, she donned a short white night gown and matching robe.  She did have her riding boots on.  I almost expected slippers.

  "My God, Rissa, what are you doing?  You just hop outta bed?"

  She didn't answer me, but hopped off of Shammy faster than I'd ever seen her dismount before and within an instant she was pressed against me, kissing me, her lips on my neck.

  So much for not letting anything happen.  I thought.  I kissed her back, not wanting to let her go.  "Rissa,” I said between breaths.  It was like coming up for air out of deep water.

  "What?" she asked and kissed me all the more.

  "What is going on with you?  We can't do this kind of stuff until I know you aren't going to hate me later."

  She stepped back and held my face away from hers.  She shook her head, locking her eyes with mine.  With a stunned expression marking her flawless features she said, "No, no, I love you."

  The moment those words left her lips I knew she was being honest.

  We stood near a huge oak tree and she paused to tie Shammy to one of the smaller ones near it.  "I have to go Ben."  She said when she returned to where I stood.  "Mama and I are leaving later today."  She gazed at the pond and back at me.

  I waited.  I expected it to be one of their regular jaunts to New York or California, but it wasn't.

  "I got this part in a show.  Mama found us an apartment."

  "That's where you've been."  I said in a solemn tone.

  She nodded and touched my face.  "I can't be me around anyone but you.  It's been that way since I can remember, you know that.  At the barn that night?  I did that because I wanted to.  I left because I was frustrated.  I can't stay here, Benny."  She gestured to the area surrounding the pond, but I knew she meant more than just this place.

  She pulled my hands to her waist and started gathering the fabric of her robe and nightgown.  I lifted both above her head.  They fell in the dew soaked grass.  She pulled her hair out of captivity so it trailed over her shoulders.

  I marveled her for the longest time.  Her creamy-tan skin flowed smooth over her firm abdomen and rounded hips.  A petite slit of dark curls rose from between her thighs.  She crossed her hands at her perfect divot of a navel as if she were cold.

  I reached over and grabbed a thermal blanket I'd brought with me to wrap around her shoulders.

  "I brought more blankets with me."  She said, motioning toward Shammy.

  "Looks like you brought more than that."  I noted out loud, walking to the horse.  I unloaded a thick roll of a sleeping bag, a huge thermos, and a knapsack filled with something doughy, warm and smelling of cinnamon.

  She helped me lay out the sleeping bag in silence.  Leaning on the tree, she unbuckled her boots.  Her bare ass was a foot away from me and I made a grab for it.  She let out a squeal and threw off the other boot in a hurry.

  Joining me on the sleeping bag, we lay side by side.  She started a slow production of unbuttoning my shirt.  I had already taken my pants off, which lay in a heap near her belongings.

  With the thermal to cover us, we began to explore one another with our mouths.  I'd never gotten to kiss her before that day, so I took my time feeding on the delicate softness of her lips, the satin touch of the inside of her cheeks, feeling the contours of her perfect, white teeth.

  My hands went on an adventure too.  I brushed the tips of my fingers over the puckered ripples of her rounded peaks, while she looked on.  Still a bit nervous, I bent to circle one with my tongue, maybe warm it up a bit.  The skin of her areola relaxed and spread under the heat of my tongue.  I withdrew my mouth and blew on it, making it hard once again.

  "Oh, Ben."  She exhaled a heady breath.

  I did the same to the other, and clasped the first between my fingers, tweaking it.  We kissed a little more before she wiggled around then straddled my chest.  I sat up on my elbow and had a close up look at her tender folds.  More light had been added to the dawn, enabling me a good view.

  I traced a slow path from her slender band of brown curls to the sweet button between her velvety lips.  When I came to it, I watched excitedly as she threw her head back and groaned.  This time, with no music thudding in my ears I could hear her.  It wasn't a sound that would soon leave my memory.

Applying pressure, I rubbed her and soon, she matched my rhythm.  As her delight increased, I edged closer and seized her buttocks, pulling her to my mouth.  I pressed my lips to her nub, sucking as my fingers explored the outside of her silken canal.

  I stuck the tip in far enough to bring out some of her glaze.  I swirled around the edge again, lubing it, and then licking at it.  She tasted clean, pure and had used soap scented like wild flowers.  I then ventured back to the smooth crevices surrounding her sweet spot and the fresh shaven feel of her outer labia.  When her breathing and moans reached a peak, I plunged my finger into her tight, rippled chasm.

  Her legs quivered as she came and her nails scratched at my shoulders.  She eased back and moved into a sitting position, still straddling me, but at the waist.  To my surprise, she kissed me, her juices mixing with our saliva.  Her breathing was returning to normal.

  "Benny." she whispered, fixing her hazel eyes to mine.  "Wow."  Was all she could manage to get out. 

  "I love you Rissa."  The words came easily.  I didn't have to contemplate saying them.  I'd always felt that way, seemed like even before I knew her.  The feeling was timeless.

  Seriousness returned to her face.  My scepter stood ridged and waiting.  She put her hand around it, massaging.  The first glimmer of sun peeked over the horizon, bringing a sparkle to her eyes.

  I moved to her opening and as I penetrated her, it felt as though a thousand tiny fingers were pulsing around me.  Her muscles clenched me so much that I thought I'd be evicted, but realized with her on top that the simple law of gravity would bring me deep within her.

  Her eyebrows twisted with feeling.  Her full lips formed a circle.  "Perfect Benny."

  Facing each other she moved on top of me.  She lowered her lips to lick and caress my shoulder.  Nothing up until this point in my life had ever rattled me this much.  It was amazing, not what we were doing, but the emotions that ran between us.  It was a connection that wouldn't die, something each of us would hold within us until the day we died.

  She shuddered, which brought me back to the moment.  I brought the blanket up and tucked it around us.  Wrapped in the warmth from our bodies and the morning sun, we made love.

  I clasped my hand around the pinch of her thigh and hip and met my thumb with her throbbing button.  She ground against it, lost in sensation.  She cried out biting her lip and I felt her tighten and pulse from within.  It was then that I couldn't hold back.

  "Rissa, honey I'm..."

  She stopped.  Her breathing was still frantic, but she managed to giggle.  Flashing me a wicked grin, she ripped the blanket away from me.  "Oh, no Mr.  Not yet."

  I looked down at my shiny, engorged rod.  Lunging over, I grasped the sleeve of my shirt and pulled it around me, and noticed she was popping open the thermos.

  "What's this?  We taking a break?"  I couldn't believe she was teasing me this way.  Two minutes earlier, we had been all over each other and now she was sipping, what was that, coffee?

  "Let's watch the sunrise, Benny."

  It was on the horizon.  I moved next to her and she leaned on my shoulder.  I gave her a smooch on the cheek and felt like a love sick fool.  She didn't seem to mind.

  "Sip?"  She asked, offering me the thermos.  "It's hot chocolate."

  I frowned trying to see into the tiny hole.  "No marshmallows?"

  She snatched the knapsack and out came two spoons and a jar of Marshmallow fluff.

  She readied a spoonful of fluff for when I was done taking a swig.  Thrusting it past my teeth, she pulled it back out and licked the remainder off the spoon.  I moved in to kiss her.  Our tongues mingled, the fluff dissolved, the spoons dropped.

  Parting the blanket, I made lazy, white circles around her areolas.  Warmed by the sun, they were larger now and looked very appetizing covered in marshmallow crème.  They tasted sugary mixed with that refreshing wildflower scent she wore.

  She dunked her finger in the jar, opened the blanket further and painted the letter "B" around her navel.

  I noticed my member stiffen considerably and I wanted more of her in every way.  I suckled down the hump of the "B" marveling at how soft she was, everywhere.  I lingered on the flat plateau above her patch.

  "Now you."  She stated, taking a dip of fluff and lolloping it on my knob.  I couldn't believe I'd get to feel her mouth on me again.

  She swabbed the fluff off the tip, and then glided her sticky lips down my pole, taking every inch.  She bottomed out, came up slow and began using her hand, sliding her sticky saliva up and down.  She lowered her lips to my jewels, while her hand skidded faster.  As the nibbling continued, I couldn't maintain any control.  I had to be in her again.

  "Rissa, come here."  I whispered, taking her hand.

  In a dreamy state, we moved toward the tree, kissing, fondling, half dragging the blanket with us.  By this time we were warmed both by the excitement and the shimmer of the sun on the secluded pond.

  With me behind her, she placed her hands on the old oak and fastened her foot in a notch where the tree forked.  Wasting no time, she pulled me up and I crammed myself into her.  Her moans became pants; pleasure became ecstasy as I pumped into her heated depths.

  Her hair flung between the slit of my unbuttoned shirt, sweeping across my bare abdomen.  I sealed my mouth to her sun warmed shoulder and cradled one of her breasts that still felt sticky from the fluff.

  With each stroke, my scepter grew more engorged and molten hot until it felt as thought it would detonate.  I could not stop it this time.  I must have been making some sort of noise, for she knew.

  "Benny pull out!"

  I came to my senses and did as she asked; flooding one of her round, tan cheeks with thick, white spunk.  She reached back, tickling my jewels, making the orgasm more intense.

  I let out one final animalistic groan and fell back on the sleeping bag.  She composed herself and joined me.  I took off my shirt and helped her into it, while I pulled on my pants.  We settled back and she laid her head in my lap, as she had done many times before.  Her mop of hair draped over my thigh and I ran my fingers through it.

  "What time do you go today?"  I asked, not wanting to.

  "Bout four this afternoon."

  I swept a strand of hair off her cheek and traced a trail down her cute nose.  A strange thing happened.  My eyes welled up with tears.  It was completely unexpected, especially to me.  I got myself under control, or so I thought, but she must have caught the muscles twitching in my face, or it could have been the way my expression flooded with emotion for a brief moment.

  "Hey, it's okay." she whispered.

  Concerned, she sat up and hugged me.  Just that small gesture brought fourth another tide of tears.

  She searched my eyes again.  "Oh, you're tearing up.  No, no, it's okay.  I love you.  It's okay."

  We embraced and the tears eventually dried behind my eyelids.  If anything I was more stunned by my outward show of emotion than what had taken place between us physically.  No one had affected me the way she did and I was losing her.  I knew at that point that I couldn't keep her; she couldn't be mine.  I can't describe how hard it was, coming to that conclusion.

  After eating the cinnamon rolls she'd packed, drinking the remainder of the hot chocolate, with fluff, and making love one last time, we said good bye under the old oak.

  Larissa was a star.  The show she had mentioned ran for seven seasons.  She became one of the show's main characters, adored my millions across the globe.  I'd watch faithfully each Thursday night, wondering if I'd ever lay eyes on the real her again.

  Seven years after she left me at Briggs pond, Larissa came home to stay.  She once told me that she could only be herself around one person and that hadn't changed.

  The day she came home to me on the small ranch I had started, I heard Sham's slow trot before Rissa's beautiful face came into view.