I’d grown to love the cock I was sitting on. I rocked slowly back and forth on its succulent strength, squeezing it with my pussy. Striding his thighs, sitting upright on his glorious dick, my back to Arturo's moans, I was as exhilarated by our foreplay as by the glorious ocean sunset view from the bed. The breaking waves matched the exultation surfing through my still, upright body.

I knew he had eyes only for my back, waist, and the cleft of my ass, and I liked it that way. I could feel his eyes on them now. He’d sung their praises like the operatic tenor he was. I knew he’d be watching the shape of my ass-cheeks, moulding to my rocking movements, back and forth, side to side; each softly altering the balance of my cheeks, and each putting delicious pressures on his cock.

After the crude attempts of my previous boyfriend to introduce me to sex—I thought he’d put me off the penis for life—Arturo’s elegantly persuasive voice and hands had coaxed me into giving him all I had. He treated my pussy like a mystical symbol to be worshipped; none of the horrible ownership Craig seemed to claim over it. Arturo offered his cock to my mouth with a dignified humility that made me want to kiss it all the more. It tasted clean and musky. Soon I was closing my lips over it, my tongue tracing the veins, soft against the hardness of his thick shaft.

Cock and pussy became objects of wonder to both of us, in ways I’d never have imagined. He always purred when I stroked his balls, and said he swooned when my fingers played behind them. As a woman, I couldn’t imagine what that bit felt like, but I didn’t need to. His moans told me all I needed to know.

Arturo was a master of lingering love-making. His pacing of high passion with luxurious pauses was impeccable. After guiding one another from tenderness to passionate foreplay, this was one such pause. I felt in a dream; sitting upright, that lovely dick inside my pussy, my eyes drinking in the burning ocean sunset. I felt on top of the world—not merely on top of the cock that was all the world to me. I caressed it again, with the muscles of my vagina.

He stirred. His hands reached out to stroke my ass. He caressed the small of my back, and stretched up and around my front, to clasp my breasts. So gently. I leant back in ecstasy. He drew me to himself. I lay atop him, still on my back, murmuring with contentment.

He turned me onto my front. I lay on top of him, head raised slightly to look down into his sensuous face. My breasts hung over him. I was so aroused I could almost not bear the power of my feelings as he held each of my nipples in his craftsmanlike hands, I’d swear moulding not merely my breasts, but my very mind.

Now he wanted to play with my pussy again. I desperately wanted his cock back inside me, but I let him linger. His hands worshipped my mound, its lips, and entered the magic, secret places; where unlike Craig, he was always welcome. After all, it was Arturo who’d taught me how wondrous they were. He'd even introduced me to self-pleasuring, whose delights I'd never conceived.

But the pleasure I could give my body was nothing to the fires Arturo lit, in the most unlikely places: behind my ears, around my throat, over my breasts, and, as he was doing now, deep between my thighs. I’d had to show him the favourite corner of my clit, but now he needs no guidance. He judges by the expert sensitivity of his fingers, and his musical ear for my responses. When it comes to knowing when he’s reached the right spot, this tenor’s talent amounts to perfect pitch.

Now I was playing with his pulsing cock, first stimulating it softly with feathering fingers, then grasping it firmly, feeling its throbs, and synchronising the pulsating of my fingers around his shaft.

I ran fingertips around the head of his dick, down the soft underside of his shaft, and let the fingers close around his balls.

But he sensed what I was desperate for. I couldn't help myself rising from him. I crouched, all ready for doggy-style satisfaction.

He took his place behind me, and I waited those agonising moments while he poised behind me. I knew he wanted his eyes to drink in the secrets I was spreading out for his enjoyment and mine.

Then—at last—he came into me. His cock sank deep; I responded, squeezing him in a long, pussy-kiss that made him moan as loudly as me. He began to thrust back and forth, quenching the thirst of my clit, then re-awakening its longings. Now shallow, now deep, with an agony, not of pain but of bliss. I thrust my own ass upwards, seeking to devour him.

With a cry of desolation I realised he had come out of me. But he turned me onto my back, and came into me again. The pulsing of his cock rippled through my whole body, melting every sensitive G-spot and chakra.

The sun had long set and we were in darkness, but my mind and body were aflame. It was as if the sun had entered the room and the sea were pouring its breakers into my body, as his cock propelled its life-giving, love-giving stream deep, deep into my pussy.

My favourite thing about Arturo? Afterwards he always stays lying beside me—still and satisfied.

So was I.