Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience. ================== Skin Against Skin =================== --------------------- by Jean-Michel Maserati --------------------- Warning ====== Just to make it perfectly clear up front. This tale contains explicit sex scenes; if you find such descriptions offensive, I suggest you leave the site now. Also, if for any reason whatsoever you should not be permitted access to this material (for example, due to your age and/or the laws of the area where you either live or are currently staying) then you should quit now. I can and will take no responsibility for any consequences if you don't. ------------------------------------------------ We had all thought she had left the party a while back. At any rate, we all knew Dawn was too prudish to go in for any of the high-jinks that would undoubtedly start to happen later on. In particular involving Jenny, who was acting the slut and pretty well making a public mockery of our supposed relationship. But when I went back inside for a couple of minutes, mostly to cool off after getting so annoyed at my girlfriend - or to be more precise, since the last ten minutes or so my ex-girlfriend - I came across Dawn, the Ice Maiden herself, lying passed out partially on and partially in the pile of coats and jackets that the party-goers had all thrown in a big heap underneath the stairs. My initial reaction was to check that she was alright; when you come across another person out cold like that, I don't think it makes any difference who they are, whether you know them or not, what age and gender they are... at any rate, my mind began with "Oh God, what's happened to her, is she just asleep or..." All those tales of people who've OD-ed and been discovered later - "just the girl next door, nobody would ever have expected she might have had a habit." The ignominious way a single E can be fatal in that once-in-a-blue-moon case of a bad reaction and anaphylactic shock. Or had she contrived to end up there by falling down the stairs? So I got down close, checked she was still breathing, brushed a few dark strands aside and felt for a pulse at the neck. I tried to wake her up a bit, tapping her gently on the cheek and then shaking her a bit more vigorously by the shoulders. The big brown eyes opened blearily for a moment or two, then closed again. I could smell the whisky all too well, and I knew that Davey's fruit juice punch would undoubtedly have contained some more esoteric ingredients than just citrus. Not being one of the host's central group, Dawn had had little to do at the party other than sit around the fringes and sip away at her drink. Okay, we'd chatted to her a bit of course, but we all knew she was only there on sufferance: her parents thought it a good idea, Davey's thought it a good idea, and they were all off for the weekend on whatever company beano it was this time. Which meant: coast clear for one of Davey's infamous mega parties. I shook Dawn again by the shoulders. "Come on, girl, wake up a bit. You can't stay there all night. I'll take you home." She opened those vacant eyes again, looked at me in confusion, then shook her mane of black curls down over her head and turned away. She curled up on the coats, almost defensively in a fetal pose, and I would bet she even had her thumb instinctively in her mouth. Not that I could see from the way she was snuggled up, face down. Exasperated, I stood up. It'd be her own stupid fault if she threw up all over everyone's expensive coats. I swear, that was what thought of first at the time. What a silly cow, I was thinking, getting herself that blotto. I went off upstairs to the john, came back down to find myself another drink and have a quiet cigarette to try and calm my anger. Jenny - what a downer. All those times in the last month or two and I had been spending my time getting the little redheaded minx to drop her knickers. When I'd finally managed it, I had thought we really had something special together, barely able to believe my luck as the shy sixteen-year-old virgin had been transformed into the sexiest and most dynamic ride in the school. And now there she was, out by the pool in the nude, stoned and happily letting herself get fucked by Davey and Kev and God knows who else. So much for that special relationship. And I had really loved that magnificent young body of hers, that smooth pale skin, the close-cropped flaming red hair... she was pretty much the best looker in the class, maybe the whole school. Apart from Dawn of course, but she mostly didn't figure in the lads' evaluations because any attempt to get her to do anything was a non-starter. Quite a few of us lusted after her, most of us chanced our arm, and we all got the cold shoulder. But then there was always the next sucker ready to try. She didn't attract everybody by any means, not being either glamorous or extrovert. Tall and slender, with a seemingly naturally frizzy mass of dark curls so black they almost had a steel-blue sheen, she was nonetheless in my eyes without doubt a real beauty. Not one of those big-breasted aggressively sexy types with a fake tan and bottle-blonde highlights and a permanent high-gloss smile - Dawn had a different kind of appeal. Slim and long-legged, graceful in her movements, eyes often demurely downcast or simply staring past you into space. A rather delicate face, too angular and sharply defined to have anything like the standard ersatz beauty of the glossy magazines, but nonetheless with clearly delineated features full of natural colour - hazel brown eyes, red lips, white teeth, jet black eyebrows and (for some reason I'd noticed it in the past, don't ask me why) just the very faintest trace of baby-fine down on the upper lip - not enough of a trace to need bother about. She was studious and considered, the typical child of overprotective parents who were determined she would get into the Ivy League law schools. But then, she seemed to like it that way too. Most of the boys in the class had asked her out once or twice, and sometimes she would go to a movie or whatever. Pleasant and sociable, but no chance of any action. Cool, unapproachable, disinteresed: hence the nickname, the Ice Maiden. From outside the kitchen patio, I heard a girl squeal and several boys cheer. I didn't want to know whether it was Jenny or not: she was history. Time to move on. I took a drag on the cigarette, looked at Dawn lying down on the floor, absolutely out cold. Dead drunk, uncapable of resisting. She had no idea where she was, would surely not recollect anything about this later part of the evening. Oh, she was so pretty and so tempting: I decided it was worth the risk. There'd never be another chance like this. I was going to fuck her. There'd be no proof of whether she'd consented or not. Damn it, she'd not even be sure of it herself. And no way would she or her parents want anything such publicized. I considered another trick Kev had once read about: pretend you've got photos that'll end up on the web if she doesn't play ball later... or be posted to Daddy... or shown around the school. No, I decided just to insist she'd agreed and do everything I could to set the scene to make her accept that when she woke up in bed with me the next morning. It was a big house, and I knew there was always a guest bedroom made up. With some difficulty, I picked the limp figure of Dawn up bodily and struggled up the stairs with her inert weight and then carried her to the end room. Just as well she wasn't all that heavy; I'm no wimp, but I'm not exactly muscle-bound either. She mumbled something incoherently when I put her down on the big double bed, and went straight back to sleep again. I made myself take it slowly and calmly. Back downstairs, fetch a bottle of wine and two glasses, retrieve her purse and jacket from the pile (that felt like a good touch: surely she'd have brought those along of her own accord?). And I noted the hotel-style snib on the doorknob, which I locked behind us. I put her purse by a bedside table, then carefully removed her necklace and her bracelet and her watch and put all those neatly on the table. And her trainers, neatly together underneath it. One glass, part filled, next to the lamp. Then, saving the best fun till last (or was I holding back on what I knew deep down inside myself was the seriously illegal stuff?) I stripped myself, chucking my clothes as always into a random pile in some far corner of the room. Dawn was still lying where I'd left her, sprawled shapelessly face down on the the big double duvet. Her only reaction when I rolled her onto her back was to shield her sleepy eyes from the spotlights in the ceiling. Relieved - since I'd half expected her to suddenly come to her senses and start screaming and bawling me out - I got off the bed and turned the dimmer switch by the door down. Not too far, because I most certainly wanted to see everything presently, but far enough that the near-comatose youngster relaxed again. Walking back to the bed, I caught sight of the scene in the huge smoked-glass mirrors of the walk-in closet. Fantastic: me, light-haired and a bit freckly, tall and muscular in a wiry kind of way - bit too pale and skinny, if you ask me, but most girls don't complain - standing there next to the king-size. Stark naked, with a most impressive angry red hard-on jutting straight out unashamedly. I thought briefly of Jenny, kneeling in front of me and doing everything I'd taught her... then I looked at the mirror image of Dawn on the bed and had no difficulty at all in wiping all thoughts of other girls from my mind. The slender and elegant young brunette with the exquisitely chiselled features was lying there at the mercy of the pale youth with the tousled mop of unkempt dark blonde curls. And there was nothing and nobody to stop me. Time for action. I'd been baby-sitting a few times for families round our way, and I had gotten the trick of talkng gently to the kids to relax them as I did whatever I had to do. Didn't much matter what you said, as long as it was in a friendly voice that could comfort them subliminally - the content of the words barely mattered, as long as the intonation was positive. It goes in at some level, stops them waking up fully. And I found myself doing the same with Dawn. "It's all right, Dawn, you can't go to bed with your clothes on, can you? I'm just going to take your socks off, that's it... now the other one... good girl." I popped them tidily into her trainers in just the way I guessed she might do at home. "Now, those jeans are much too tight to sleep in comfortably, aren't they?" "Mmmm." She opened her eyes a little. Incomprehension, a flicker of alarm? "It's okay, it's only me," I said. They don't ask who, the little kids, they just think: oh, must be alright then. And so did Dawn. "It's only me, and you want to go to bed, so I'm helping you get undressed." All in a tone as if it were the most normal thing in the world. "You're too drunk to do it yourself, so I'm helping you. That's what you want, of course you do." "Mmmm." Her hands went to the zipper of her jeans, but then flopped aside again. Nervously, I undid the top button and then unzipped them. Folding the denim material aside, I buried my face eagerly in the smooth warm skin of her lower belly. Then I came up against some red material that ought to have been panties but was instead something nylon... bikini, of course, must have had that on underneath in case she dared go swimming with the rest of us rowdy bunch. I undid the bottom couple of buttons of the expensive-looking scarlet silk blouse she had on, parting the cool slinky fabric to uncover more of her flat stomach until I could confirm she had the bikini top on underneath as well. "You are a very lovely young woman," I told her gently, "and I know that you want to share that." No she didn't, not consciously, but this was just me keeping her quiet and planting the seeds of false memories next morning. "You really don't want that swimsuit on, not in bed with me. You want to be warm and cosy, excited and naughty. Skin against skin." "Yeah," she mumbled blurrily. "Nice sheets." I wasn't quite sure what she was on about, but she was at any rate quite cooperative as I peeled her Levi's off inside out, even fumblingly unbuttoning the cuffs of her own blouse as I did so. They must have been a little tight too. After finishing undoing the silken garment, I tried to roll her over onto her back to untie the bikini, but she struggled op to a sitting position instead. The fact that I was naked registered for the first time on her befuddled consciousness. "Why'ven't you got any cloze on?" she slurred accusingly. "Because I'm going to bed too," I said calmly. My heart was pounding wildly, but I kept the tone natural. "You're going to fuck me, aren't you?" she said, eyes suddenly wider. "Of course. That's what you want. You told me so." "No I don't. Did I?" Confusion reigned. I could almost see her mind hurting as she tried to think. "I did? Why?" "Because you're ready for it. Because you know it will be fun. Because I'm obviously the nicest of the boys around. You want me." "Oh." And a woozy shrug, as if resignedly accepting that she had gotten herself into this mess somehow. I looked at her, delighting in the consternation and lack of clarity behind the normally so intelligent big brown eyes. She hadn't a clue. "So," I continued, "are you going to show me both tits this time?" She looked down uncertainly at her bikini top, unable to remember the incident I was referring to. For good reason: I'd just invented it. "What? Doan 'member." "Come on, girl, when we were playing tonsil hockey on that pile of jackets you sneaked me a peek." I put my hands on my hips. "You can't promise me a show in the bedroom and then go all shy. Not after you were so hot downstairs." A deliberate double entendre, and Dawn was looking more worried. And very unsteady. But then to my delight, she reached round behind her back and untied the bikini top before flopping down on her back on the bed. Kneeling by the side of the bed, I eased the red silk blouse open at the front, off her delicate-boned shoulders too. She just lay there inert, the bikini top now just a loose strip of red material over those perfectly shaped, round young breasts. I plucked it away and threw it over my shoulder... what a splendid sight. The young woman made an uncoordinated effort to cover herself up, but her resistance faded soon enough. "No, Dawn, you promised to let me see your breasts. Anyway, they're such nice breasts, think of how much pleasure you're giving me. You want to make me happy, remember?" Gently and with the greatest of anticipation I let my fingertips explore her chest, featherlight and sensitive, over the firm flesh, circling the nipples in the middle. She gave a small moan when I bent my face to her breasts and kissed one of those full pink nipples and she half-heartedly tried to push me off. I pulled her hands away again. "No, it's not wrong. It's fine. And you let my hands on them, you'd enjoy letting me feel you up." I got up onto the bed, awkwardly conscious of the way my erection had been constricted against the side of the bed while I knelt there. Straddling the defenceless girl, I pushed her arms firmly and definitively down on the pillow above her head, holding the position for a few seconds and then repeating the act when the long slim arms came back down protectively. Browbeaten, drowsy and uncertain, Dawn acquiesced to the inevitable. "Skin against skin," I heard her mutter as I eagerly gave my full attention to those gorgeous young breasts. Having had my fill, I began moving downward over the flat smooth stomach. Forcing her legs a little apart with my knees, I wormed my way down inch by delightful inch until my face and hands were at her crotch. Oh boy, was she going to feel sheepish in the morning when she half-recalled everything I was about to do to her. "Right Dawn," I said, "you're just going to let me have a flash of your bush." No defensive reaction at all now, just mindless drunken acceptance. "Mmmm." Hardly able to believe what I was doing, I hooked an index finger under the waistband at the front and pulled the sheer red fabric down over her mound a little, revealing - after a tantalizing inch or so more of soft warm skin - a nest of crinkly black pubes. "Gentlemen may prefer blondes," I murmured. "but I'm no gentleman. Very nice. And now, while I'm at it, I think it must be time for a look at your pussy, don't you?" The bottom half of the bikini was one of those jobs that ties at the hips, rather than being a pair of panties, so when I undid the knots (it should have just been bows, but she wasn't that stupid, not with all us lads liable to be horsing about) and slid my fingers under her firm warm backside to pull the material free, it became just like the top half had been: a loose rag draped across to protect her modesty. No more than that. A flick of the wrist and it was gone; bar the red silk blouse sliding off her shoulders, Dawn was now utterly naked beneath me. I lifted her knees up together, placing her feet apart so that I was kneeling between them. With my hands I prised my teenage prize's legs aside so that they flopped akimbo, graceless and uncoordinated. Revelling in that moment of total dominance as her cunt was exposed, I put my weight down hard on her knees until she winced a little at the lewdly explicit spreadeagling, despite her unfeeling drunkenness. I bent down close and explored her intimately, marvelling at the thought that this pretty youngster wouldn't have let me take her in a million years if she'd been sober. But now, logic clouded and emotions stimulated by alcohol and probably other drugs as well, she was lying here helpless while I licked and probed and nuzzled the warm pink labia and the previously untouched clitoris until the animal subconscious inside her was responding to my ministrations whether she liked it or not. The animal - yes, that would be another memory for her to cringe over! I turned the dumbfounded girl over onto her front in a kneeling position, pulling her up by the hips and lifting her backside up high. That juicy little pussy was presented perfectly for me, and you can bet your bottom dollar I was ready for her now. One hand on her hips to hold her tight, the other guiding my rampant hard-on into her virgin slit. A brief whimper of pain as I penetrated her, no more, and then I was riding her as hard as I could, slamming home hard, reaching round underneath to grope those perfect little tits, twisting my fist in a handful of coal-black curls to lift her head up and arch her back. I came hugely, satisfyingly deep inside my pretty young victim and just as I withdrew, suddenly she was shuddering and gasping delightedly as well. We flopped down on our backs on top of the bed, and slept fitfully. In the course of the night, I took her twice more. No resistance, despite her soreness: Dawn spread her slender thighs obediently and bemusedly let me have her at will. She was mine, after all, she was telling herself, and it had been her decision and now she had a boyfriend and she had been deflowered comprehensively... and she had a lot to learn about keeping men happy. It was nice to be wanted. She rolled over and snuggled up back against me, contentedly curled up. Like two spoons in a drawer. Skin against skin. --------------------------------------------------------------------------- ---- All original work, copyright (c) J.M.Maserati, 2002. May be freely disseminated for non-commercial purposes as long as the author is clearly identified and copyright stated. --------------------------------------------------------------------------- ----