NEWSGIRL.TXT
Hello, story-philes. It's time for another
story from the BEAR.
This is a totally original story created out of
whole cloth. I rather like it, and I hope you do too.
Please, if you don't like stories with lots of
real love and devotion, or if love between an older man
and a very young woman (she hates being called a girl)
upsets you, or if you like lots of vulgar language, skip
this one and go on to another story.
If you are underaged, then you probably shouldn't
be in this newsgroup. Report yourself to your parents
and apologize for what you are doing right away. Then
go do your homework.
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*** Copyright (c) 1993 by the BEAR. Duplication without ***
*** changes or omissions is permitted for personal, ***
*** non-profit use. All other rights are reserved. ***
*** [Permission may be available.] al-bear@ix.netcom.com ***
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*** NEWSGIRL ***
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ONE:
A Newsgirl Finds Love
I was reading the newspaper the other day and read a
story about a girl near my age and a man who were involved
with each other. Somehow they were found out and the man got
into terrible trouble. Because of my experiences, I feel like
I have a good idea of what might have happened, and I am
fairly sure that just as both were involved, both were to
blame. To me the sadness is not in what they did, but in
what happened when they were discovered.
If their relationship ran anything like the one I
literally fell into, things had to have been better than was
speculated about in the paper. The paper had him taking
advantage of her and implied that she got nothing out of their
relationship at all and that she was exploited. He received
full blame, and even though she wouldn't testify, he is
apparently in real deep trouble anyway. I hope he gets off.
My story shows that assumptions are not always true.
My story needs to be told, and I have tried to tell
it completely and in a way that will be interesting, and
instructive. Maybe even a little arousing. My choice may
not have been a wise one by conventional wisdom, but I'd
never have it any other way.
It all started when I was delivering papers one day,
and my dumb kid brother, who was following me as usual,
bumped me. I lost control of my bike and fell down real
hard. I skinned my knee and bumped my head. I was scared
and really feeling like I was badly hurt.
I was lying there, trying to keep from crying,
wondering if I had broken anything, when a man leaned over
me.
He spoke softly and calmly, touching me here and
there, explaining what he was doing as he did it. I was
still dazed, when he declared that no bones were broken.
He picked me up and carried me up to the front porch
of a house I later found out was his home.
He told my brother to park his bike on the sidewalk
out front and then made him go back and get mine and bring
it up too.
While my brother was doing this, he was drying my
tears and giving me a more through checkup. He looked in
my eyes with a flashlight, checked my ears, felt around the
lump on my head so gently that even though I knew he was
doing it I never felt any pain at all. Then just as my
brother arrived on the porch, he pointed out that blood was
soaking through the knee of my new jeans.
I was upset anyway and I started crying. He told me
to never mind, that he'd take care of that and fix my knee,
too. He picked me up and took me inside, ordering my brother
to wait outside and watch the bicycles unless he was called.
He put me on the couch and told me to take off my
pants. He spoke so calmly and matter of factly and with
such sureness and authority that I did as he said immediately
with no thought of questioning the rightness of it. He took
a gauze patch out of a medical kit that he took from a closet,
put something on it, put the patch on my knee and had me hold
it in place. He took my pants away and was gone a few minutes.
Later I found that he had washed them out in cold water to
remove the bloodstains and put them in the dryer.
When he came back, he took off the gauze patch and
cleaned out the wound with more gauze patches and some liquid.
Then he put ointment on another patch, covered the wound and
taped up my knee with some kind of tape he described as a
special athletic stretch tape.
Then he put a pillow out, laid my head on it, and
spend a few minutes talking to me. He asked me about myself,
but he talked about himself in turn. I learned that he had
been an athletic trainer, but had quit because although he
liked the work he hadn't liked the pressure he had to work
under or the methods that he had to use. While we were
talking he explained that it was most important that I relax,
because the way I healed would be affected by how my body
reacted and was treated in the next hour or so.
He then began to rub my leg around the knee, which
was red and beginning to swell. He explained that he was
going to massage my leg until the blood went down so that
it wouldn't hurt so much and to keep the swelling down. He
started around my knee, but went back and did my foot and
leg, then my knee again and gradually worked up my thigh.
He explained that he was stimulating circulation to prevent
swelling. He showed me where and how the nerves and blood
vessels ran on the inside of the leg. He told me how they
were especially sensitive there and how they affected the
whole body.
Even as he was explaining things, though, I was
enjoying his touch. I had been touched by doctors, by my
mom and dad, and by others in the past for various reasons,
but his hands were so gentle and yet were so strong that I
loved his touch immediately. Just having his hands on me
made me feel happy and comfortable and relaxed. The pain I
had felt earlier had almost entirely gone away. His touch
seemed to be almost magic.
I was feeling warm and very very good. When he
stopped, I asked him to keep it up a bit longer. He smiled
and asked me if I'd like him to do the other leg. I said
sure, please do. Whatever you are doing, it feels really
good, and I like it a lot.
So, he did. on this leg, he started at the foot
instead of my knee and worked slowly back up my whole leg
to the inside of my thigh, just down from my panties. It
felt especially good for him to touch me there so I asked
him if he could do both of my thighs at once. He laughed
and asked me if I was sure. I assured him I was really sure.
I was enjoying the sensations he brought to me more than
anything I had ever felt before in my life. I want you to
do exactly that, I said. He did.
He moved his fingers gently all over the inside of
my thighs, pressing, kneading and caressing. I opened my
legs up all the way so he could touch me better, and I even
pulled my panties up farther so he could cover more area.
It felt so good that I couldn't believe it. I wondered
why didn't anyone else touch like this. But then I had
never imagined wanting anyone to do this kind of thing,
much less would I have let them.
After several minutes of this I was almost ready to
moan with pleasure. He asked me if my knee was bothering me.
I told him no, as long as he kept on doing what he was doing,
nothing was going to bother me but his stopping.
He laughed again, a little nervously it seemed. After
a while he told me that he could see that there were certain
nerve endings that needed massage so that I could relax all
the way. He said that he could do it if I wanted, but that
if at any time I wanted him to stop, that if I hurt or didn't
like something, I was to say so immediately. I promised.
Then he instructed me to give him directions as to how hard,
how fast, and exactly where it felt the best.
As soon as I agreed, he put his hand flat on my pubic
area. I hadn't really expected that, and I jumped. He took
his hand away immediately and then asked me if I wanted him
to go on or stop. I began to suspect that something was
about to happen that my mom wouldn't need to know about.
I thought about it for a few seconds. Then, "Yes, please,"
I told him, and explained that I had just been surprised.
Then - since he hadn't moved - I took his hand and placed
it back where it had been.
He let me put his hand back. It was just the palm
and fingers of his hand there, resting so gently that I could
really just feel the warmth of his hand, no pressure. Then
as he looked into my eyes he ever so slowly felt the outline
of me through my panties, running his fingers everywhere
and at last running one finger along the lips of my vagina
from the bottom to the top. It felt so good!
Then he began to rub me through my panties. after
a while he began to touch me in a spot I had only recently
found myself, but somehow him doing it made it ten times
better. I told him just where I wanted him to touch me and
everything else he asked. then I forgot the whole world for
a while except for where he was touching me and how great it
felt.
A wonderful warm feeling washed over me and I about
died from the pleasure of it. I moaned, pushed against his
hand, grabbing it with mine and holding it there and moving
it myself, thrusting and pushing against it. Finally I had
my first real orgasm. I'd done it myself, but it had never
ever been like that before. I finished and collapsed. He waited
a moment and then began to rub me again, and the feeling came
back. He helped me do it again and then again. Finally I
managed to say "enough" and he stopped.
I was sweating, trembling and breathing heavy when I
finally came back to myself. He was holding me in his arms
and smiling at me.
"You really enjoyed that, didn't you?" he said. He
explained that he had relieved high sexual tension brought
on by fright, shock and surprise by bringing me to a climax
by rubbing my clitoris. He apologized for doing it, and said
that I looked so lovely lying there in my panties and tee
shirt that he just got carried away with the massage. Then
when he noticed my panties were wet and through the wetness
that my clitoris was erect, he decide that he should finish
what he had started.
Then he hugged me and sat me up and told me that
if I wanted I could come back in a day or two and he would
change the dressing on my knee. He promised me that he
wouldn't let things go as far next time and that he was
sorry for touching me like that and wished to apologize.
I let him know that I was not in the least bit sorry that
he had touched me and that I had liked every second of it,
and I hugged him back.
He said that he was glad I felt that way, but he'd
try not to let my beauty get him carried away next time.
Then he got a wash cloth and told me to clean up my crotch
where I had gotten my panties all wet. He explained that
this was all normal, and a strong sign of how badly I had
needed what he had given me. While I was cleaning up he
got my pants.
Then he had me put my pants back on. The blood stain
was gone and they were still warm from the dryer.
Then he helped me up and had me stand. To my surprise
my knee hardly hurt at all. Then he sent me home with his
name and phone number on a piece of paper, with instructions
to give it to my parents. He explained to me that it might
not be a good idea to go into a great deal of detail about
the fullness of the treatment I had received. I just laughed
and told him "You'd better believe it!" and agreed that I'd
let him explain. Then I hugged him good-bye and left.
I did exactly as he said and had my Mom call him
as soon as I got home. My mom was a little upset as he
described the accident as he had witnessed it at first,
but as he talked to her she calmed down. My brother got
into trouble for reckless driving and got grounded. Mom
told my new friend that she'd be sure to see that I'd do
just as he said and that I'd be over again in a couple
of days.
She did make me quit my newspaper delivery job
though. She felt that I was too old to do that anymore,
and said she'd give me a small allowance until I could
come up with another job of some kind. I showered and
went to bed that night and slept wonderfully, dreaming
of what had happened with fondness and looking forward
to our next meeting.
TWO:
A Little Further is Sometimes Better
Mom called him back on the day he'd suggested
which happened to be the next Saturday, and asked him if
it was still okay if I came over and if he was sure it
wasn't a bother. He told her that he lived alone, that
he liked kids and that I seemed to be a very sweet girl,
and that he enjoyed my company very much. He said that
he'd figured I must have very nice parents just on the
basis of how I had acted.
She was again favorably impressed, and gave me
orders to do anything he asked, not to argue, and to not
spoil his first impression. I told her he was a very
nice man, and no way was I going to treat him any way but
nice, that I fully intended to co-operate all the way.
I had my own ideas about just what that meant.
About ten that morning I got on my bike and rode
over. He was waiting for me. He smiled and shook my
hand and gave it a squeeze. Then he carried my bike
up on the porch and invited me in.
I had already planned what I was going to do. As
soon as he shut the door I dropped my skirt and took off
my blouse. He looked at me standing there in my new bra
and panties and smiled. He looked me up and down. Then
he asked me if I was planning for another massage.
I told him that of course I was, that I had been
looking forward to it for days. He came closer and took
me by the shoulders and looked me in the eye. He held me
at arms length and said he wasn't sure that it was a good
idea, that he'd gotten carried away before. He had to
admit, he said, that I was so beautiful to him that he
wasn't sure he could keep from trying to please me as
he'd done before.
I moved away and sat on the couch and rubbed my
thighs together as we talked. I told him that what he had
done before had been so pleasing that I'd been thinking
about it ever since. I stuck my hand inside my panties
and began to rub myself. I told him that I'd been
trying, but that he did it much better than I could.
Then I got up and went over to him I pulled him
down to the couch and got on his lap, hugged him close and
begged for him to do it again. I even tried kissing him,
but he didn't start teaching me a lot about that til later,
although I did feel him begin to harden under my bottom.
Finally he asked me if I'd like him to do just
what he'd done before. I felt excited at the thought.
Well, I think I'd like it better if you did my whole body
I told him. Then I told him what my mom had said and how
I had promised her that I would do anything he asked. "And
you can ask me anything." I said.
I also reminded him again how good he had made me
feel last time and that I wanted as much of that good
feeling back as possible. I had no idea that I would
be feeling so much more!
So he sat me on the couch again and cut off the
old bandage and cleaned my knee with a solvent to remove
the sticky glue. Then he had me help him spread a sheet
for me to lay on out on the floor. He looked at me for a
few seconds and then said that it would be more pleasant
for me and easier to do if I took all my clothes off. He
was hoping I'd think about it and refuse.
I had never been seen nude by anyone since my
breasts started to grow at age twelve. Not liking the
heavy hands and nasty mouths of the boys near my age I'd
avoided them. I was now almost fifteen. The only
experience I had had was with him. I thought about it
for about two seconds, but I had already spent hours
imagining it. I slowly took off my bra and dropped it
to the floor.
Next I slid off my panties. As I took them off
he watched me and somehow I felt excited rather than shy.
I found myself arching my back to show off my breasts
better, and standing with my legs parted slightly
in anticipation. He was getting a little red in the
face and didn't seem to know where to look. I think
he was enjoying it for all the fact he was flustered
by my daring.
He had me lie down on my front and then rubbed
me down all over with a massage oil. By the time he was
done with my back, legs and bottom, I was already feeling
warm again. He had me turn over. He was getting sweaty
from the work and took off his tee shirt, leaving him
clad only in gym shorts. He is a big man with a muscular
build, not particularly hairy. I find him as nice to
look at now as then. I kept trying to see the outline
of his hard penis in his shorts.
This time as he got to my inner thighs, he went
around my hot spots there. As I started to protest, he
shushed me, and then started on my arms.
When he got to my breasts I found out why he
wanted to do things in order. I had no idea that it
could feel so good to have a man touch your breasts
and nipples.
By the time he got back down to my pubic area,
I was ready to explode. He massaged me down there,
spreading me with his fingers and even putting his
fingers inside me a little, but not touching my clitoris.
All he had to do was touch me there and I knew I'd go off.
To my surprise he leaned over and kissed and
tongued my nipples and then leaned down to my clitoris
and touched me there with his tongue! I started coming
almost as fast as I realized what he was doing. He kept
me going for a long time.
After a while he let me rest. I lay there feeling
good and watched him look at and gently caress my body.
We talked. He mentioned that as he had explored me he
had found that I was still a virgin, and that he was
surprised at the intensity of my responses to him. I
told him that I had never been touched like that by
anyone before, only him. He caressed and touched my
breasts some more, telling me how beautiful and firm
they were and how expressive my nipples were.
Finally I grasped his hardness through his shorts.
He closed his eyes and gasped. I asked him if he'd please
take off his shorts so I could see what an adult man
looked like aroused, because I could both see and feel
that he was. He was hesitant, but I talked him into it.
I admired his body and tried to touch it some more, but
he made me hold off.
After some more talk, he gave in to the temptation
as I'd hoped he would. Of course I liked the idea. After
I begged and pleaded and tempted him for a while longer, He
finally let me rub his body with the massage oil, which I
found lots of fun. I'd never even seen an adult male
nude before, much less touched one. Now he let me do
anything I wanted.
For the first time I touched a male body that
turned me on. I ran my hands over his chest and arms
and body. I saw and touched my first penis and watched
it grow harder and more erect with my first touch. I was
not totally innocent and wondered how such a big thing
could fit in such a small place as I knew I possessed, but
at the same time felt a strong desire to put it there.
Then He asked me if I'd like a body to body massage.
Of course I would. I lay back down and he rubbed me with
oil again. Then he rubbed my body with his, first on the
back and when I turned over on my front. Then he lay on
his back and I rubbed my self back and forth on him. Then
we stood up and he held me and caressed me and we rubbed
each other all over. I climbed and slid all over him.
I found that I most enjoyed feeling his penis move
back and forth between my legs. It seemed to get bigger
and harder. After a while he tried stopped me from doing
that. When I begged to continue he explained that what I
was doing was perilously close to the only thing left to
do we hadn't done and that I was making him want to do
it very much.
He had tears in his eyes as he held me close and
said I was by far the most tempting thing he'd ever seen
and that I was impossibly beautiful and sexy, despite my
tender age.
If he put himself inside me, he explained, this
would be sexual intercourse, which he described fully and
graphically. Technically a man of his age wasn't supposed
to do this with a girl of my age. I was not supposed to
be physically or emotionally mature yet, and it might
injure me, either physically or emotionally, and he cared
too much for me to risk that, he said. I might even get
pregnant, and I was far too young for that, in his opinion.
I held him close, looked in his eyes and told him
as sincerely as I knew how that all I knew was that what
we had done so far was the most wonderful thing that had
ever happened to me and that now that he had explained,
I knew even better than before that I wanted him to put
his penis inside me very much.
I didn't at all feel like waiting. When he told
me I'd have to wait til I was eighteen if I went by the
book, I told him to please throw out the book for my sake.
We talked about it for a long time, standing,
sitting and lying. I kept caressing him and having him
caress me the whole time. He finally agreed that he
would demonstrate as much as he could and that he would
leave the final decision up to me. He showed me several
intercourse positions, put his hard penis at my entrance
and had me hold it there. He would push a little, until
I'd push back, when he would back off. He could have
entered me at any time as I wanted him too, and he
knew it.
Finally he lay on his back and had me kneel over
him. Then he had me put his penis at the entrance to
my vagina. Then he had me lower myself on to him and
move his penis around, on and partly in myself. He
told me not to hurt myself and that if at any time
I felt any hurt or decided to change my mind, I should
quit at once, and we'd never go that far again.
He was so careful to be sure that I knew the
moment of truth was coming that I figured that he was
feeling guilty by now. If I had not led him on he would
never have done anything to me except treat me. I could
tell that he wanted me, though. I wanted to make him want
me so much that he'd never be able to refuse me at any
time. I was determined to enjoy myself, and at the same
time make my body available to him for his pleasure.
The more I touched myself with him and the more I
imagined what it might be like, the more I wanted to get
him inside me. I was so wet that my juices were running
down the shaft of his penis. Once I got things lined up
and felt his hardness pressing against my hymen, it was
easy to push until it broke. He slowly went in all the
way until I could see that it was done and he was as deep
inside me as I could get him. I just about went out of
my mind with pleasure as I felt him sliding inside me
for the first time.
I'm told it's supposed to hurt. Well, maybe. But
I wouldn't know about that. It is an odd sensation that
first time, but the overwhelming feelings I had pretty
effectively hid any pain I might have felt.
I came over and over again for quite a while.
Every time he or I moved, I would go off again. When I
finally came to myself again, he was holding me close to
his chest and caressing my back as I lay on him. He was
deep inside me. As I relaxed and enjoyed the sensation I
realized that I could feel his very heart beating in
there, as his penis throbbed.
He had tears in his eyes and a big smile on his
lips. He kissed me. He asked me how I felt. I told
him that it had been a little hard breaking my hymen (He'd
of course explained what to expect to me), but that once
past that I hadn't felt anything but wonderful pleasure
and a desire to keep going. we kissed and caressed for
a while before he began to move back and fourth inside me.
That too was totally new and made me come again, very
quickly.
Then he rolled me over on my back. I wrapped my
legs around him and pulled close. He began to go in and
out of me even more deeply. I almost went mad, it felt
so good. While we were doing this the phone rang.
He told me to wrap my legs tighter around him and
hold on. Then he got up and carried me, with his hard
cock still deep inside me, over to the phone. With each
step I felt another burst of pleasure. The caller was my
mother, calling to see how things were going and if
I was going to come home for lunch.
He smiled and watched my eyes as he talked. He
told her that what had started out as a simple treatment
had turned into a social visit, and that we had just lost
track of time. He explained that he just had to finish
me up and clean me up, and then I could come home if she
was in a hurry. Or I could stay and have lunch with him
if I wanted. Then to my surprise he said "Here, talk to
her yourself, tell her what you want her to do.", and he
handed me the phone.
I was a little flustered, seeing as how he was
still deep inside me and I was only heartbeats from coming
again, but Mom didn't seem to notice. Instead, she told me
to not be a bore, to be nice to him and do whatever he said.
"Take what he gives you without complaint.", she said.
When he was through with my treatment I could come home,
but not before, and not to rush things. I told her that
was good advice.
Then she reminded me to be sure and thank him and
to enjoy my lunch. I told her I'd thank him in the best
way I knew how. She didn't know that He was deep inside
me, stroking slowly in and out even as she said that. It
was a hard struggle to keep my voice normal as I spoke to
her. I had to fight to keep from coming as she told me
about thanking him.
When I hung up, I was ready to come again, but
he clamped down on me and wouldn't let me come for a
time even though I wanted to and he knew it. I was
begging! Then suddenly he began to bounce me on his
cock and I went off like a box of skyrockets. When I
finished having orgasms and became aware again, we were
both lying on the floor in a heap. I have no idea how
we got there.
After he regained his breath and had recovered
somewhat he told me that he had come inside me even
though he had originally not intended to.
He went over a long explanation on how pregnancy
comes about. I knew most of it by rote, but he had some
angles that made me understand it better than ever before.
I now knew about the mechanics of it firsthand, too. When
he pulled his cock out of me and all that goo came out, it
really meant something that he had lost control like that.
While we lay there resting, I kept after him gently
and he finally had to admit that I had turned him on as much
as he had interested me from the start. From the first touch
of his hands on my skin. We lay cuddled together and talked
for a while about how neat it was that a girl who liked older
men (although I hadn't known it) had run into an older man
who liked young girls, although it was a new feeling to him
too.
I finally put my arms around his neck and hugged him,
and told him that the most wonderful thing I could think of
was to get pregnant by him, that the idea turned me on all
over again. I rested my head on his shoulder and planned
out loud. I could just say that I had gone to a party and
gotten drunk and passed out and that some guy had raped me
while I was out. No one would think to blame him.
Then I'd come to him for more "treatment". He was
so touched by these thoughts that he didn't say a word for
a long time. He just sat up and held me in his lap while
I wrapped myself around him. He kissed and caressed me as
tears rolled out of his eyes. When he finally spoke again, he
was a little choked up, and had trouble speaking. It took him
several tries to finally say that he thought he was in love with
me. I just said "Good, I'm glad. I'm in love with you too.
I turned to face him. We kissed and loved some
more. He entered me again and we made long, slow, wonderful
love for another endless period of excitement. This time
he got hard while I was on his lap facing him, and I arranged
myself so that as he got bigger and harder I could take him
right into me. We spent a lot more time kissing this time
than we had before. We made love so slowly that before he
was ready to go off again I had come several more times. I
think it was mostly from love of him this time.
Again he wanted to pull out, but I didn't want him
to and held him as deep inside as I could so that he came
deep inside me again. This time I was able to hold off til
he was finishing so I could watch his face and feel his body
go rigid as he came. As I concentrated I could almost feel
him spurting inside me. Then I let myself go, and I tried
to pump him dry as long as I could. Finally we were both
satisfied.
We lay together and talked about our new love, and
how wonderful it was. He told me how beautiful and sexy I
was and that I was such a good lover that he had already
made love more times in one day than he had ever imagined
possible. I watched our goo dribble out of me with a
warm full feeling.
We showered together, washing each other. Then we
towelled each other dry. Finally he put a dressing on my
knee even though it was almost completely healed, just to
make things look good.
We were both ravenously hungry, and we had a lunch
together that was possibly the best tasting food I had ever
eaten. But then I had never shared a meal naked with my
lover before.
We dressed and then spent a long time kissing goodbye.
He thanked me, and I thanked him, then I rode home, promising
to return as soon as I could.
Mother was amazed that I was so radiant looking and
just plain happy. She called him back to thank him again
and talked for quite a while on the phone. He asked how my
job was going, (I'd told him about that), and she'd admitted
that she'd made me quit. Then he offered to hire me as a
housekeeper if she wouldn't mind. They talked for a while
and Mom agreed I could take the job. I was delighted,
needless to say. Now I had an excuse to visit my new
lover just about as often as I wanted.
THREE
Now things are getting serious!
My mom noticed that I was behaving differently that
very night. Eventually, she began commenting on the fact
that I was "...being very quiet and polite tonight". Later
on I overheard her say to Dad that if getting treatments
from that retired sports doctor made me as pleasant as
this she wanted me to get them daily! If only I had been
able to tell her I was in love and how much I wanted to
get those treatments.
I found out from my new love the next day that she
had called him and asked if he used drugs. He'd laughed
and said no, that he just used simple physical therapy and
deep message, and that he didn't believe in drugs except as
a last resort. Mom had asked how often I should get
treatments, and he said that was entirely up to me, that
he wouldn't mind giving them to me daily if I wanted them.
After that first time, all I had to do was ask and
he would do anything I wanted. At the same time I found
that I was feeling a little guilty because of the way I
went after him, When I told him of this, he simply kissed
me and thanked me for my strength. He admitted that of
himself, he would never have even kissed me, and we would
both have missed our wonderful relationship.
He has told me about all of his life, of course,
and most of this I'll keep to myself, but know this: He is
a gentle, kind and loving fellow that has been taken advantage
of by so many, and loved truly (I believe) by none but me.
Anyway, my mother put me at his disposal, letting
me go over after school to do my housekeeping work and "get
treatments" every day and all day sometimes on weekends.
She even let me spend the night at times when it was
storming, and any other time I could make up plausible
excuse for not coming home.
We had sex and slept together on those nights, but
he also helped me with my homework a lot, and my grades got
better very fast. By the next grading period, thanks to his
teaching ability, I was getting mostly A's. Meanwhile, we
went on having wonderful sex together at every opportunity
we had.
I discovered that housework, home repairs and other
chores can be fun if they are shared with someone who cares
about you. I began to do my at-home chores better because
he taught me tricks and shortcuts that really worked.
He also taught me about cooking, gardening, nature
and dozens of other things. My Mom was full of praise for
the things I was learning from him. I still wonder what
she'd have said if she knew that we daily learned more about sex
with each other and that by then I felt I was as accomplished
a lover as anyone in the world! He had told me by now that
I had taken and was taking him to heights he'd never imagined
existed, and that he was learning as much about sex and
loving now as I was.
Once my lover and I even took a canoe trip alone
together, with Mom's blessing. I had helped organize a
camping trip for a school group and he had volunteered
to come along as a teacher's aide and chaperone (can you
imagine how I laughed inside at that?). The group had
to cancel at the last minute, but we were all packed up
to go, so I called home and got permission for us to go
on alone. We pretended to be man and wife for a week,
and we had a wonderful trip. It was kind of a honeymoon
for us, and we spent a surprising amount of time having
sex.
We camped in campsites all over, registering as
man and wife, and then setting up our tent and moving in.
Our neighbors must have figured we were newlyweds if they
listened to us at all closely at night. a little makeup
and my hair tied up in a bun, and no one questioned my age.
He looks fifteen years younger than he is anyway, and it's
become easy for me to look and act older.
I realized during this trip how important it is to
have someone in your life who treats you with love and
respect, who asks your opinion on things and tells you in
words and actions that without you in his life things would
not be so good. In short that he loves you.
It's equally important that you have someone to
love and give to, to worry about and care for. We have
spent hours trying to decide which one of us gets the most
out of our relationship, and our best guess is that since
we both love to give, that's why we both get so much.
Then my Dad got a promotion and a new job in a city
some distance away. As soon as I found out, I objected
loudly to changing schools, horrified at leaving my lover,
but not daring to give my real reason. To my complete
surprise, Mom agreed with me and declared that I was doing
the best I had ever done in school and had completely turned
around.
From a flighty, airheaded, mouthy teen, (She declared)
I had become an obedient and cheerful daughter. Quiet,
agreeable and mature beyond my years. The only reason she
could see for the change was my friendship with and the great
amount of time I spent with, my "therapist". She didn't want
me taken away from this good influence. Then she called my
friend up and asked if he would mind boarding me!
Although astounded, He agreed with minimal argument
of course. As soon as he could believe it was true. I later
had quite a time convincing him that Mom had thought of the
idea herself with no help from me, but she did.
So I gave rather than lost my virginity to this man
before I was fifteen. Now I am almost seventeen, and have
been living with my forty year old lover for six months, and
I am having a wonderful time. We live and sleep together as
if we were married, sharing every aspect of life. We are
married in every way but on paper. We have sex endlessly
when we have the desire, since we turn each other on so much
and there is no reason not to.
There are times when we don't of course. Sometimes
days and days. But we love each other, and snuggle and
sleep together even then. When we finally do it again, we
have such a strong hunger that we enjoy it even more for
the missing of it.
In addition to great sex, we are deeply in love and
have other great times together too. He has taught me much
of what he knows about sensual massage and our sex (impossible
as it may seem), gets better every day. Someday when I am
old enough We will definitely get married, and I am going
to get pregnant by him as soon as I can figure out a way
to do so without causing trouble.
As for school, The boys in my class have given up on
trying to put the make on me as I just plain won't have
anything to do with them. The word has gotten out that I
have a lover who is in college, and that I am committed to
him. I don't dispute it and I don't comment, especially as
how almost everything said is true except his age and
identity.
My teachers are astounded at how well I do in class.
They don't know that I get drilled with my homework by an
expert teacher who is also my beloved, and that he won't
love me on certain nights til I can recite my lessons right.
No wonder I don't mind studying now.
My school girlfriends can't figure out why my
complexion is so clear, why I am so calm and easy going all
the time. He says that constant and steady sex keeps me calm
because my hormones are in balance. I think it's his presence
in my life rather than the sex, because he is so understanding,
and keeps me so happy.
I am picking up good traits from him. When we disagree,
we never fight about it, we just work around it and those
small troubles always go away entirely in the light of our
deep love. Even larger problems can be solved with two heads
and enough love and trust. Incidentally, from the first time
we met, he has never treated me like a kid, but as an adult,
as a person. That's one reason I loved him so quickly I
think.
If a girl is lucky enough to find herself in a
position where she can start an affair with an older man, I
think she should do it. The law may say it's wrong, and
prudes may frown, but it has been wonderful for me, and is
working out just fine. I could never be this happy with an
insecure, arrogant, thoughtless and rough handed and minded
immature boy.
Admittedly not everyone is going to be lucky enough
to get a man who is as good as the one I have, but even a
short term relationship with an older man is bound to be
better than the same thing with a self centered boy.
Except for the fact that I haven't gotten pregnant
by him yet our relationship is nearly perfect. Someday I
will stop taking precautions. He wants to marry me first,
and that's fine, but I feel married already, so it's more
important to me to have his child.
He insists that I have a unique and wonderful mind,
and that I should go to college, and I probably will. I hope
to talk him into going with me when I get a scholarship and
hopefully it will be somewhere far away where we can live
openly as husband and wife, and maybe even really get
married.
I'm not sure quite yet what field I will study in
yet. I am confident that whatever I study I will do well,
because he is behind me fully, loving me as much as I do
him. He is devoted to helping me become the best I can
possibly be, and I am determined to make him so happy, and
keeping him so happy, that he will live to a very ripe old
age, teaching and loving our children with me.
As to his being so much older that he will someday
require me to nurse him or that he will die and leave me
alone. I say that ten years with this man I love is worth
more than a lifetime with anyone else I have ever met or
known. If I have to take care of him it will be with
devotion and love. If he dies early, then I will just
have to live alone, as he did. I might take a lover, but
I will never love anyone the way I love him. I know there
is an afterlife too, and I feel confident that we will bed
together there, too. Our love is too great for it to be
otherwise.
This is my story, and I have told all of its
beginning, much of what I feel it is based on, and little
of our present, for that is ours. I have told of my hopes
for our future, and something of our dreams. I have tried
to do so in such a way that we cannot be identified, because
I will allow nothing to endanger our relationship, or my
beloved.
I hope that someone reads this who's life will be
improved by the reading, or whose thoughts will be changed
as to age variant relationships. Indeed, that is the only
reason I wrote it.
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