ARCHIVE: philly.Z
Author: mksmith@taproot.win.net (Michael Kalen Smith)
Keywords: mf teen nc

   [Almost all of this story is factual. My motives weren't really
so clear at the time, and some of the dialogue has been made more
coherent for the reader's convenience, but all of this really
happened. If you were in Phoenix that weekend, you undoubtedly
remember the jacuzzi. If you recall the red-bearded bloke in the
back corner, the one with the lazy ex-swimmer's physique, that was
me. And if you know Philly (assuming she still uses that nickname)
show her this story and see if she remembers her "Uncle" Sam....] 

===============================================================
                           PHILLY

    I met Philly in the jacuzzi on the Fifth Floor pool deck of the
Phoenix Hyatt over Labor Day weekend, 1978.  It was the weekend of
the World Science Fiction Convention, known this time as
"Iguanacon," and it was definitely one of the lustier WorldCons
I've attended.

   Since the fans had taken over the entire hotel -- no "civilians"
on the premises to be leery of -- the hall parties went on all
night and very few people felt the need for swim suits on the pool
deck.

   The overwhelming majority of fans are very tolerant of eccentric
public attire (or lack of it) at large cons.  Young school
teachers, who have to be careful not to mow their lawns in
short-shorts back home, will sally forth in see-through harem pants
at a con, or even a couple of strings of strategically placed sea
shells.  It's part of the "Con Code" that one does not take photos
of sexy hall costumes without permission, but the young ladies
involved seldom refuse.  It's all part of the fun.  Fans are
usually very relaxed and trusting when surrounded by several
thousand of their own kind ... and that's one of the best reasons
for attending a con in the first place.

   The temperature was way up in Phoenix that weekend, and the
humidity was way down, with the result that several people fainted
on the short walk between the air-conditioned hotel and the
air-conditioned convention center.  The dry, moisture-sucking heat
continued past sundown and the pool deck filled up rapidly.  Fans
without swim suits lost their shirts first and sat on the edge of
the pool with their feet in the water, but as the sun went down the
relatively cool desert breeze came up.  Then the jacuzzi began to
boil and there was no looking back.

   I heard comments in the hotel corridors: "Wow!  You ought to go
down to the pool!  Acres of skin!"  I could think of no reason to
avoid the pool, so I went, too.  It was a large open space with two
pools, a regular one with two diving boards and a smaller,
shallower one for kids.  And that high-tech jacuzzi, approximately
circular and at least 15 feet in diameter.  The bubbling of the
jets was loud and inviting, and so was the mist of steam drifting
across the surface of the water.

   I was pleasantly surprised to note a dozen or more bodies in the
jacuzzi, all of them naked.  Three or four additional con-goers
were paddling around in the larger, cooler pool, also naked, and
numerous other fans (or "fen") were in various stages of undress,
either coming or going.  No glamour, just bodies, all shapes and
sizes, ranging in age from late teens to mid-60s ... but all of
them relaxed and unembarrassed.  My kind of place.  I don't
embarrass easily, and certainly not about nudity.  I stripped, hid
my room key-card and my wallet in one deck shoe, stashed my glasses
in the other shoe, and wrapped my jeans around them.  Since I was
there by myself, I tucked the rolled-up clothing on a ledge at
eye-level in the stone wall backing the jacuzzi, where I could keep
an eye on it.  Then I stepped carefully in the roiling water,
letting myself adjust a little at a time.  Several other newcomers
were doing the same.

   I had just turned 29 a month before and was increasingly
conscious of the Big Three-Oh looming ahead of me -- especially
since my physical fitness had gone to hell in recent years. 
Teaching junior college while researching a doctoral thesis didn't
leave much room in my schedule for methodical exercise, and I was
a long way from the shape I had been in as a swimmer and track
letterman in high school.  So I was a bit self-conscious about my
lack of condition, but a glance to either side took care of that.

   On my left was a woman in her early 20s, about 5'2" and at least
175 pounds.  She smiled back cheerfully and moved down another
step.  Her rolls of flesh shimmied and her almost huge breasts
bounced slowly.  So did her thighs.  On the other side of me was a
man in his 60s who seemed quite at home with his protruding pot
belly.  His full beard merged with the thick mat on his chest and
his equally thick leg hair almost concealed his groin.  He had more
hair on his ass, I think, than I had on my chest.  Both my
companions were reassuring, though, in their acceptance of their
personal appearances.  Just ordinary people, all three of us.  But,
of course, we weren't the only folks in the pool.

   As I settled down with the steam drifting around my jaw, I
watched a well- tanned kid of about 19 hurry laughing down the
steps and splash into the middle where the water was about waist
deep.  His penis was semi-erect and the reason for his condition
flung herself into the jacuzzi right behind him: A vivacious girl
who appeared about 16 but whom I decided *had* to be older.  Her
body was also beach-brown, with no bikini marks, and she was very
obviously a natural blonde.  Her pale, shoulder-length hair, now
plastered wetly to her neck, was a close match for her fine, sparse
pubic hair.  Her cleft, probably shaved, glistened moistly for a
fascinating moment when she leapt in after her boyfriend and hooked
a sleek, nicely muscled arm over his shoulder.

   Their happy splashing, which included a lot of seemingly random
touching, caused a series of wave fronts to break against the
couples lined up along the back wall of the hot pool.  They must be
sitting on a bench, I thought; all their heads were at about the
same level and water lapped at their collarbones.

   A couple of the back-row relaxers took exception to the
wave-making, probably because their mouths were suddenly awash, and
I heard several say, not unkindly, "Hey, man,... take it easy,
huh...?"

   The two teenagers heard the complaint and grinned sheepishly as
they waded to a far corner and hunkered down.  The water came up to
their chins, but from their expressions it was obvious their
submerged hands were busy.  The other bathers ignored them
completely, except perhaps for a knowing and sympathetic smile.  A
small crowd of naked, mostly young people in a hot, steaming pool
together?  Of *course* sex was an ingredient, and everyone on the
pool deck knew it and accepted it.  But that didn't mean the mix
would degenerate into a public orgy.  Mouths murmured into ears and
light kisses were exchanged.  Some single guys chatted together and
so did several single girls and women.  The atmosphere was nearly
lacking in social or psychological pressure, even when it came to
sex.

   Every few minutes, someone would rise and climb the steps out of
the jacuzzi; a few seconds later, they could be heard diving or
jumping into the main pool -- followed by a loud "Whooo!"  After
ten minutes or so of parboiling myself, I felt the same need to
re-balance my body temperature, and I stood up.  The air
temperature was still in the 80s, but after the hot pool the breeze
felt distinctly chilly.

   I climbed quickly up the steps and moved over to the large pool. 
Dipping a hand in, I found the water tepid from standing all day
under the Phoenix sun, but I suspected my body's reaction to it
might be more extreme.  Two people jumped in and joined the others
already splashing around, while I stood there on the edge and
thought about it.  I had taken 3rd Place in High School Varsity
All-State Freestyle in 1963, right?  Right.

   I waited for an open spot in front of me and attempted my first
racing dive in several years.  In that first split-second below the
surface, I metamorphosed from human to penguin -- *damn,* it was
cold!  I popped to the surface like everyone else, whooshing from
the shock.  My teeth chattered and goose bumps erupted
simultaneously all over my body.  But after a few minutes, my
shivering tapered off as my internal thermostat adjusted itself. 
I stroked a couple lengths of the pool (just to prove to myself
that I still could) and then simply treaded water for awhile.  The
water temperature seemed more normal now, which meant I was
probably ready for another cycle in the jacuzzi.   I paused --
together with every other male in the pool and most of the women --
as a tall, graceful, broad-shouldered young woman did a half-gainer
off the low board.  She had a swimmer's musculature and short,
straight black hair.  Her pubic hair was trimmed neatly in a small
rectangle just above her pussy, which was quite bare; like
gymnasts, most competitive swimmers shave themselves regularly.

   She entered the water slick as a seal and when she popped to the
surface (no "Whoooo!," I noticed) she received a scattering of
appreciative applause, both for her skill and style and for the
lovely image she had presented up there on the board.  An athletic
young man immediately breast-stroked over to her and struck up a
quiet conversation.  She didn't turn away and several other guys
nearby sighed and went back to their dog-paddling.  I wondered idly
if there would be a bed unslept-in tonight.  That thought gave me
the beginnings of an erection and I had to wait another few minutes
to compose myself before leaving the pool; I noticed none of the
other guys had left immediately, either.  As it turned out, the
timing of my return to the hot pool was perfect.

   I hauled myself up the pool ladder and noticed that the breeze
didn't seem as chilly as it had been.  My first step back into the
jacuzzi was comfortably scalding.  I was watching where I put my
feet so I wouldn't slip on the steps ... so I wasn't immediately
aware of the scene unfolding just in front of me.   Four feet away,
standing hip-deep in the center of the hot pool, was a teenage boy
facing away from me.  Facing him -- and me -- was a slender,
young-looking girl with a bewildered expression.  She was an inch
or so taller than the boy, with that lovely shade of light
reddish-blonde hair known as "strawberry"; it fell around her
shoulders in a bright cloud under the subdued pool deck lighting. 
The boy's hands were moving busily but he had an avid audience of
three other guys about his own age and I couldn't quite see what he
was up to.  So I took a couple of steps to one side -- and stared. 
  His hands covered her small breasts, rubbing and squeezing in
jerky circles.  His cock was twitching upward, the tip just
brushing her sparse pubic hair.  And she just stood there
flatfooted, her arms hanging at her sides.  Was she retarded?  In
shock?  Hypnotized?  She plainly had no idea at all what she should
do.

   As I watched, one of the onlookers reached out and tentatively
touched her hip.  I glanced at the back-benchers.  Several couples
were furtively watching the little drama unfold and were whispering
urgently to each other.  The kid with busy hands looked at the
hip-toucher -- they didn't seem to be acquainted -- and muttered
something assertive.  The second kid ignored him and put the palm
of his hand flat on the girl's hipbone.  An anti-poaching warning,
ignored.  It was obvious that these two were not working their game
together.  Then I realized that the boy was wet all over, hair
plastered to his head, while the girl was still dry from the crotch
up -- a very recent arrival, presumably while I was still in the
main pool.

   The girl's eyes flicked about and I thought I saw (or decided to
see) desperation in them.  Her gaze finally locked on mine; perhaps
I was the only person looking directly at her face.  Neither her
posture nor her expression changed, except that her rather full
lips parted slightly.  For whatever reason, I interpreted that
small movement as a plea for rescue.  I had to get involved.

   It's difficult to appear convincingly aggressive when you're
naked and wet but I gave it my best shot.  I sucked in what gut I
had and waded up to the principal groper -- on the shallow side, to
make me appear taller.  I already had three inches and thirty
pounds on the kid and, like most ex-competitive swimmers, I'm built
broad in the shoulders.  I raised my chin so I could look down my
nose at him and hummed a soft tone deep in my throat to be sure I
could deliberately lower the register of my voice.

   I stepped into the fringe of the guy's vision and he glanced at
me, saw my face, and froze.  I have long been a student and
conscious practitioner of body language and I was wearing my best
Intimidation Stare: Hard, cold, unblinking eye contact and
tight-lipped, with my jaw muscles visibly clenching and loosening.

   I kept the volume of my voice down but it was clearly heard by
everyone within ten feet: "You will take your hands off my niece
instantly or I shall break your fingers."  No obvious anger in my
monotone, which was what convinced the teenager of my intent.  I
clenched a fist at my side, which made my bicep move.  I reached
out with my other hand, brushing the hip-groper back without
touching him, and took the staring girl gently by the upper arm. 
"Sarah?  Why are you letting them abuse you?"  It was simply the
first name that came to me.  "Let's move over out of the traffic,
shall we?"  I stepped between the two young men and back quickly
out of my way; I had moved as though I assumed they would make way
for me, so they did.  I squeezed the girl's arm slightly and she
blinked.  The corners of her mouth tried to smile but were
unsuccessful.  Her face had acquired a guilty look and that
completed the picture for the onlookers.  I moved my guiding hand
down to her elbow and nudged her away toward the end of the hot
pool's back bench, and she let me.  I couldn't tell whether she was
glad to be rescued, frightened by my taking control of her, or
still simply bewildered.

   As we moved away, I was aware of relieved looks from others in
the pool.  They had all wanted something to be done but hadn't
wanted to get themselves involved.  But now what was *I* going to
do with her?

   I turned my head slightly as we waded deeper and whispered very
softly.  "I couldn't just stand there and watch that.  Are you
okay?"

   She nodded fractionally and took a deep breath.  "Yeah.  I
didn't know what to do -- they scared me.  I've never been ... like
this ... with other people around.  I didn't know what they
expected from me...."

   "Nobody has the right to expect *anything* from you, uh ... what
do I call you?"

   "Philly."  She glanced at me and quickly looked down.  Even in
the dim pool lights, her eyes glowed an intense and hypnotic green.

   "'Filly'?"  I smiled.  She *was* sort of coltish....

   "Short for 'Phyllis'."

   Ah.  "My name's 'Sam'," I lied.  I was portraying her "uncle,"
after all.  I still liked the way I had first heard it.  "Filly."

   A couple had just left the end of the underwater bench, where
the wall angled to form a cozy almost-corner.  I eased myself down
onto the bench; the water lapped comfortably at the base of my
throat.  Philly hesitated.  I put on my most benign smile.  I had
already let go of her elbow and she could simply turn and go if she
wanted to.  If so, well, I had done my good deed for the day.  But
her decision to stay was transparent on her face.  She had decided
I was "safe."

   I wasn't sure I could agree with her.  On the short wade across
the jacuzzi I had become very aware of her smooth, fair skin, now
flushed from the heat of the pool.  Of the slight sway of her
narrow hips as she pushed through the water.  Of the coordinated
bounce of her hair and her small breasts.  Most of all, I was
captivated by her face.  Those brilliant green eyes, framed by
thick blonde lashes and topped by reddish eyebrows.  The narrow
nose and the surprisingly full, very red lips.  The firm profile of
her chin, above a long, beautiful neck.

   At first, from a distance, she had seemed about 15 years old. 
I had upped that estimate to a young 17 -- which was still
jailbait.  But I couldn't help it; for the past several minutes, my
cock had been coming increasingly to attention and now it stuck out
like a bowsprit.  If I had swung around to face her, I would have
poked her in the abdomen.  This was definitely a problem because I
did *not* want to be guilty of assault myself ... and I wasn't sure
seduction was a fair game under the circumstances.

   I was pleased and relieved when the girl decided to stay awhile. 
I was lusting in my heart, as they say, but I wasn't sure yet what
I was going to do about it, if anything.  My first decision arrived
a moment later, when Philly tried to sit on the bench beside me. 
She wasn't quite tall enough and the steaming water threatened to
flood her mouth.  She sputtered and waved her hands through the
water, trying to hover a couple of inches above the bench; it
apparently didn't occur to her to tuck her legs under her.   "I
have a lap that's not being used," I said softly.

   After a moment's hesitation, she smiled slightly and said
"Okay," just as softly.  She pushed herself upward as I moved
sideways and she settled across my thighs with her back tucked into
the angle of the wall.  As I shifted position, I also quickly
pushed my cock between my legs; that would have been too rude a
surprise and I certainly didn't want to frighten her away now.   
She leaned back against the wall and seemed to relax; I hadn't
realized how tense she was until that moment.  I set one hand very
lightly on her knee, to keep her from being dislodged by the
bubbling of the nearby jet in the wall, and leaned back myself.  No
crowding.

   I let my eyes drift nearly shut and simply enjoyed the
pleasurable sensation of a teenage girl's bare bottom perched on my
lap.  I imagined I could feel the tickle of the hair between her
legs against my thigh, but it was more likely to be my own thick
bush against the back of *her* leg.  The currents swirled around my
calf and I realized she was slowly kicking her feet back and forth,
like a child on a swing.  I liked that, too.  I opened my eyes a
minute of two later to find Philly's wide green eyes quietly
studying my face.  The water lapped at her chest just about where
a strapless gown would come to.  With only her head and shoulders
showing, she somehow seemed older still.  Nineteen, perhaps?

   I raised an eyebrow at her and she smiled enough to show some
small, brilliant white teeth.  Her arm rose from the water and
draped itself casually across my shoulder, and her long, slender
fingers stroked the back of my neck.  "You're nice," she said. 
"When I came down here and saw everyone so easy and relaxed and
everything, I thought maybe I could join in and still be safe. 
I've never been anyplace like this -- not even a nude beach.  And
then that guy came up and said something to me and ... and started
doing things.  And I didn't know what to do."  She paused.  "I said
all that, though, didn't I?"   "Some of it," I admitted.  "But
don't worry about it.  You have a lovely voice; it goes with your
eyes and your hair."  I couldn't tell if she blushed or not.

   "Well, I feel a lot better with you, Sam."  This time her smile
was warm and I felt my imprisoned cock begin to stir again.

   That meant I *had* to know.  "Philly,... please don't take this
the wrong way,... but would you mind very much if I asked how old
you are?"     She looked down.  "You're older than I am.  I mean,
does it matter?"   "Maybe not.  Maybe it shouldn't.  But I don't
want to get you in trouble.  Or me, to be honest," I added.  "Look,
I'm not insisting, Philly.  But I'm curious.  You keep shifting age
on me.  Right now, I'm guessing 19 or 20...."    She seemed pleased
but then she sighed.  "How about 16?  Barely."   Sixteen?  Only 16,
"barely"?  Shit.  Did I really want to pursue this?  Did I dare? 
Philly removed her hand from the back of my neck and started to get
up from my lap.

   "I'm sorry, Sam.  I'll go someplace else.  I didn't mean to
mislead you, honest...."  She looked sad and if she was acting, she
was good.  But I knew instantly that I didn't want her to go.  I
was nearly twice her age and I didn't give a damn.

   "Hey, hey, hey, hey," I laughed.  I grabbed her around the waist
and resettled her on my lap.  Then I stroked the small of her back
until I felt her spine uncoil.

   "Please, Philly -- you just surprised me, is all.  But I don't
want you to go, I really don't.  You're a very lovely girl and I'd
be lying if I pretended I didn't appreciate that.  You're also just
... *nice*.  You feel nice and you smell nice.  I guess that sounds
silly."

   And it was all true, but I knew I had won when she smiled
glowingly, leaned forward on my lap, and clasped her hands around
my neck.  She kissed me lightly on the cheek and I returned it by
kissing her on the ear.  I was careful not to push things beyond
wherever they were destined to go.  I'd be perfectly happy just
sitting there with her on my lap, friendly and comfortable.

   Then our attention was drawn by a couple hunkered down in the
water a few feet away.  Probably what caught my ear was the sound
the girl made -- a low throated giggle ending in a soft, humming
moan.  It was a sound that made my testicles tingle, a sensual
sound.  Philly's hands twitched when she heard that low moan and
then she was staring at the other couple, who seemed about college
age.

   They had apparently been squatting, facing each other, the water
up around their necks.  But now the girl was higher in the water,
her shining wet breasts fully exposed, and it was obvious that her
crotch and the boy's were trying to occupy the same space.

   She was a blonde, white-toothed surfer-girl type with large,
bouncing breasts, and her bent knees poked out of the water on
either side of his hips.  The boy's blond hair was longer than the
girl's and he was nuzzling in the valley between those tits.

   The girl reached far down between their bodies to make
adjustments and the boy blinked and grunted a little.  Then they
began to rock slowly back and forth, eyes half-closed.

   My cock stiffened and I knew that other people in our part of
the jacuzzi were also discretely aware of the sexual act taking
place before them.  I glanced at Philly's face.  She was transfixed
and unthinkingly squeezed her thighs together.

   "Nice, isn't it?"  Her attention bounced back to me when I
spoke, and she blushed -- but only a little.

   "It's nice that they can be open and honest about their need,
their desire for each other," I explained.  Philly licked her lips
and moved one hand from my neck to *my* hand, still resting on her
knee.  She looked down at where our hands were, just under the
water.

   "What that guy was doing when you ... rescued me?  He was rough,
and he didn't ask, and I didn't like it.  But I think I'd like it
if *you* did it, Sam...."  She arched her back so her hard little
nipples were at the water line and lifted my hand to one of them. 
It was as open an invitation as anyone could ask for.  My other
hand was still around her waist and I urged her face toward mine. 
The kiss was exhilarating -- tentative but trusting and giving on
her part, firm and knowledgeable on mine.

   Philly sighed as I slowly worked her nipple between my fingers
and cupped her breast in my hand.  She edged closer and laid her
head on my shoulder, like a child, her other nipple pressing into
my ribs.  My hand in the small of her back shifted to stroke her
smooth, slender flank.

   I realized this girl, who was little more than half my age, was
trembling.  I tried to look down at her face but I could see only
her shimmering, curling hair and her narrow, lightly tanned
shoulder.  She ducked her head further.  "Philly?  What's the
matter, babe?  You're shaking...."    Her voice was small.  "I've
just never done this."

   "Sixteen years old and you've never made out?  So beautiful, and
no guy has ever wanted to touch you?  I find that hard to believe."

   She made a "huh" sound that wasn't quite a laugh.  "Sure, I've
made out a few times.  In some older guy's car, usually.  I've let
two guys touch my ... my tits -- but no farther.  But I've *never*
been naked in a hot tub, with a lot of other naked people I don't
know, sitting on a guy's lap and making out -- while a couple of
people are fucking just right over there!  It makes me nervous,
okay?  I feel like I don't know what's happening...."  I took my
hand from her breast and moved it up and down her outstretched
thigh with long, slow strokes.  "If you'd rather I quit, Philly, I
will.  I know you said you wanted me to, and it's *very* nice, but
I don't want to scare you, either."

   "No."  She sat up and took a deep breath, letting it out evenly. 
The shakes died away.  "I'm 16 and I'm old enough to learn
*something* about sex.  I don't know you at all, Sam, not really --
but i have this feeling that you were probably 'making out' before
I was even born."  Got me there, I thought.    "The guys I date are
all so *young*.  I mean, they're nice and they're my age, but they
don't know any more than I do, really.  Like, 'the blind leading
the blind', ya know?  You were real nice to me earlier and you're
being nice to me now.  Maybe I *need* an older man, to teach me
things.  A man who's nice and won't take advantage of me, who --
who won't hurt me."  She hooked her arms around my neck again and
nuzzled my ear.  The little thrill-chills went all the way to the
base of my spine as she whispered.  "There's so much I need to
know, isn't there, Sam?  So I won't be afraid of sex.  So I *can*
enjoy it, like everyone says you should.  And I know you know what
it is I need to learn.  Don't you?  Can you teach me, Sam?  Some of
it, anyway?"  Her nose was tickling the inside of my ear and my
cock, still trapped between my legs, was becoming desperate.  "I
trust you, Sam," she breathed.

   How could I humanly resist someone so young and vibrant?  So
cute/beautiful?  Easy: I couldn't.  I wasn't *that* old.

   "Look -- over there!"  I refocused.  Off in the other back
corner of the jacuzzi a couple in their late 20s -- about my age,
actually -- was standing in a comparatively shallow area where the
water came only to the tops of their thighs.  They were long-time
lovers, that much was obvious by the way their bodies fit.  They
were pressed together, arms wrapped around each other, hands
roaming hungrily.  They kissed in a passionate glow, perhaps turned
on by the circumstances of their surroundings.

   "Watch *them*, Philly," I whispered.  "They're really beautiful
-- sex combined with love.  I can't teach you about that; no one
can.  No one has to, really."

   I turned her chin with a finger, to direct her gaze at yet
another couple who were sitting on the lower steps that entered the
pool.  The guy was maybe 25 but the woman he was stroking so
adoringly was probably ten years his senior.  Very nice looking,
though, and in very good condition.  They sat side by side, dueling
with their tongues.  His hand was busy between her legs, fingering
her clit, and she was slowly jerking her off -- all in plain sight. 
The jacuzzi was definitely loosening up.

   Another robust surfer girl was lounging in the deeper water
surrounded by the attentions of three young men who were caressing
her body and taking turns with her kisses, almost an act of
worship.  It looked like she was stroking at least two cocks in the
process.  Philly took all this in with in increasing air of
acceptance.

   By twisting around to embrace me, Philly only managed to stay on
my lap courtesy of buoyancy and because I was hanging onto her
legs.  After observing the rising hormone level in the hot pool,
she abruptly rose and resettled herself astride my lap, knees on
the bench on either side of my legs..  My cock was also released
and stood up rigidly between us.

   Philly gazed down at it in fascination, just below the surface,
and giggled.  After a moment's hesitation, she reached down and
grasped it gingerly, like a gearshift.  I made it twitch and her
lovely wide eyes snapped back to my face.

   I laughed gently and squeezed her firm little ass.  At the same
time, I scooted her body closer to mine, until the base of my cock
nestled snugly in the fork of her cunt.  It appeared to rise from
the midst of the thin patch of reddish-blonde curls.

   Philly was breathing harder.  She didn't attempt to jack me off
but both hands were now toying with my cock.  I slowly massaged
both her nipples and from her glazed expression I was sure she was
enjoying the blending of sensations.  Her inhibitions and
nervousness had nearly vanished.  I found great pleasure, oddly,
not in immediately laying siege to her virgin cunt, but simply in
moving the palms of my hands up and down her slightly bony sides,
from her armpits and down her ribcage, to her small, snug waist,
out over her flaring but still narrow hips, and down her long, lean
thighs to the soft folds at the backs of her knees.  Philly was so
exciting to touch.

   And, judging by the way she shivered each time my hands made the
trip, she enjoyed being touched.  I suppose it was also an act of
worship, a tribute to her youthful sexuality.

   Philly began to reciprocate, tracing the tips of her carefully
maintained nails from the back of my neck, across my shoulders, and
down my back as far as she could reach.  My skin popped up goose
bumps and I shivered, too.  She grinned and giggled in delight.

   Finally, after sitting like that for some minutes, crotch
grinding against crotch, petting each other, I reached the point
where I felt I would go crazy if I didn't kiss this lovely young
thing.  I took her head in my hands and brought her lips closer to
mine.  She knew what was about to happen and gripped my waist with
her hands.  I took my time.  I was sure she had never been properly
kissed by a guy who knew what he was doing and I intended to remedy
that sad omission.

   Philly made as if to go straight into a clinch but I held her
off with a smile.  I softly brushed her full, red lips with mine
and I heard her heart rate increase.  Then the tip of my tongue
traced the same path and she moaned softly.  Her hands had left my
waist and began moving frantically over my back.  I could feel the
delightful pressure of her nipples against my chest.  And in the
midst of this, she suddenly raised her knees off the underwater
bench and wrapped her long, slender legs around my lower back.  She
also shoved her open pussy against the base of my rigid cock, which
was now even more tightly trapped between us.

   It was a struggle to control my urges, but I managed it because
I wanted Philly's first passionate kiss to be as perfect and as
memorable an experience as I could make it.  I continued by sucking
and nibbling lightly on her lower lip.  Philly had a mouth
reminiscent of Carly Simon (but with better teeth), full and red
and mobile.  She began copying me, sucking on my lip in return, and
it was a very successful strategy because my own pulse rate was
increasing.

   I pressed my mouth firmly against hers and she responded in
kind, holding me more tightly as she did so.  I swabbed my tongue
across her front teeth and beneath her upper lip; she tilted her
head back and I felt her nails flexing on my shoulders.  She darted
her tongue into my mouth, trying to surprise me, but I applied
suction and bore down, holding her face in my hands, as if I wanted
to suck the youth out of her.

   When I tapered off after a minute or so and drew back, her whole
body was shaking again and her eyes had a wild, dazed look.  I
thought at first I had frightened her, but she took a deep breath
and grasped my shoulders with both hands.  Her ankles were locked
behind my back and to any observer I'm sure it appeared that I was
fucking her brains out.

   She had to take several gulps of air before she could speak. 
"God -- is it *always* like this?  No wonder girls are always
getting pregnant!"    Philly's incandescent reaction to being
kissed was reflected back at me and I felt the needle rise on my
lust meter.  "Every times *should* be like this," I replied with a
smile.  "Especially when you're young and everything is still new. 
It's easy to become bored as you get older, especially if you're
not with the right person -- right for you, I mean.  And the 'right
person' can change with the circumstances.  You implied a little
while ago that I might be your 'right person', here and now.  Maybe
I am; I can certainly try to be.  I know you're doing wonderful
things to *me*, Philly!  Kissing you is like putting my tongue in
a light socket!"  I squeezed her elbows gently and eased her arms
around me again.  I liked the feeling of her fresh, enthusiastic
body against mine.

   She nibbled at my ears, giving me renewed chills, and whispered
"Sam?  Are we going to do it?  Are we going to make love?"

   My cock twitched in response and she couldn't help but feel it
move against her abdomen.  She put her chin on my shoulder again
and arched her spine backward so she could slip both hands down
between our bodies.   Her touch was hesitant but she was becoming
more sure of herself -- possibly because I moaned quietly when her
soft, young hand grasped the shaft of my cock just below the head. 
She moved her pelvis back and up a few inches and pushed my organ
down so that the tip of it pressed against the opening to her
secret self.  I could have thrust into her easily but I knew I
wouldn't, even though I wanted to do exactly that *very* badly.  I
felt she should take each step, make each decision for herself.  I
assumed she had no hymen and therefore no blood to worry about in
the pool; few girls did since the invention of tampons.

   I realized both of us were holding our breaths and I wondered
for a moment if this impasse would continue until she or I passed
out from lack of oxygen.  Philly was staring down at the surface of
the water, just below which our bodies were poised for fusion.  I
was watching her face.  Then she lifted her gaze and looked
steadily into my eyes with a little smile as she let out her
breath, took another, and lowered herself smoothly onto my penis. 
 I was vaguely aware of a few other inhabitants of the jacuzzi
watching us with interest, as we had watched them, but mostly I was
oblivious to anything other than the deliciously snug fit Philly
and I made.  I held her hips and pushed myself into her as far as
I could.

   She unhooked her ankles and spread her knees far apart, then
leaned back and let the water and my hands buoy her up; her groin
was only two or three inches below the surface and her shallow
breasts were like two floating islands.  Her hair, wet for the
first time since she entered the pool, clung to her neck and made
her seem even younger.  Her pubic hair was so light in color and
still so sparse, her pussy appeared bare -- almost pre-adolescent. 
I found that especially exciting; I knew quite well my own tastes
in women.   I scooped up this enticing creature in the palms of my
hands and pressed her body against mine again.  I had to struggle
to control my passion and remain gentle with her.  I held her ass
and squeezed her cheeks.  She responded by grinding her crotch even
harder against mine and whimpering in her throat.  I would have
thought it impossible for a guy to become so aroused under water,
especially in a jacuzzi, but I was already climbing toward orgasm
and I hadn't even begun moving within her.  I didn't want to
embarrass myself by coming before a barely-16-year-old beauty was
ready for *her* first real climax!

   "Philly, slow down!  You're making me crazy, but we want this to
last.  My God, you're beautiful!"  And she really was.  She might
be an ordinary-pretty girl in the hall at school, but right here,
right now, she was Aphrodite, a goddess of physical love, a supple
young body lacking in experience but anxious to learn.  She was
filling up with the honest lust of young innocence and her radiance
energy produced responses in my body that I hadn't experienced
since my own teen years.  Philly was unintentionally working
wonders on me.

   We began fucking in earnest at the same moment, pushing in and
partly withdrawing in unison.  We started slow and gradually
increased the tempo, trying not to be too obvious to our neighbors
in the pool.  But there could be no doubt in anyone's mind what was
happening in our corner of the bench.  Our arms were wrapped around
each other's bodies, our lips moved feverishly, and our bellies
produced a rhythmic slapping sound as they came together again and
again.  Finally, Philly simply hung onto my neck, face buried in my
shoulder, making small mewing and moaning noises.  I knew she was
on the brink when she dug her fingers into the back of my neck and
breathlessly whispered "Oh, God...!"

   And that was enough to put us both over.  I tried to control
myself but I couldn't help jerking a few times as I shot my load
far up into her body.  I felt an instant of guilt for not pulling
out -- what if she became pregnant? -- but I could not have stopped
at that point even if someone had stuck a pistol in my face.

   For the first and only time in my life, I actually felt the
orgasm rippling up and down the walls of her vagina.  Philly held
her breath and clutched at me tightly and rigidly for perhaps
thirty seconds.  Then she went boneless and sighed deeply.  Her
cunt was so snug, my cock didn't have room to shrink.  I also
wondered if there would be a second round and I wanted to hold my
position a little while longer.

   I lifted Philly's chin and kissed her very gently as she twisted
her fingers in the hair at the back of my head.  "That was
completely fantastic!" she sighed softly.  "I'm so glad it was you,
Sam, and not one of those grabby boys."  She leaned back so she
could look deep into my eyes.  "I'll never forget this evening,
Sam, not ever!"

   "No one *ever* forgets their first time, Philly -- but this was
special for me, too.  You're really a sweetheart, do you know
that?"  I kissed her a few more times, lightly.  "Whatever boy you
finally fall in love with is going to be very, very lucky...."

   She smiled in a way that suggested she had just discovered a new
world.  Then she clenched her vaginal muscles and my cock twitched. 
"Sam, you know, I'm here with two girlfriends,... and I don't
*have* to stay in the room with them tonight.  I could spend the
night with *you*...."  She raised her eyebrows questioningly.

   I had a couple of roommates sharing expenses, too, but these
things could be arranged (and had been, numerous times before). 
This marvelous young thing was offering herself to me for the
night.  My imagination raced ahead.  I saw myself burying my face
in her damp cunt.  I saw my cock disappearing into her mouth and
down her throat.  I saw myself nailing her to the wall in the
shower, as she hung on and ricocheted through another orgasm.  God,
the things I could teach her!

   Then, against my will, I also saw a fearful expression on her
pretty face as she tried to accommodate the variety of sexual
encounters I envisioned.  I heard her voice sobbing in my head:
"Sam, I'm only barely 16 and I was a virgin until a few hours ago! 
I'm not *ready* for all of this!"  My conscience was going to spoil
my night of lust gloriously fulfilled -- I could tell.

   I took a deep breath and spoke softly into her ear as I stroked
her back.  "Philly,... sweetheart, that might not be a good idea. 
I would *love* to spend the whole night with you -- hell, I'd like
to spend a *week* in bed with you!  But you're 16 and you've just
los--, just given me your virginity.  Your emotions and your
hormones are in control right now and I can't allow myself to take
advantage of you like that."  Philly wasn't moving a muscle.  She
just sat in my lap, her tight little pussy still filled with my
cock, and gazed into my eyes without blinking.

   "Philly, there's so *much* I'd like to teach you about sex, it
scares me a little.  I'd be rushing you much faster than you ought
to go."  She blinked several times and bit her lower lip -- and I
did *not* want her to feel in any way rejected.

   "Sweetheart, I know *exactly* what I'm passing up.  A whole
night with you could be fantastic for both of us ... but I don't
think you'd feel the same way a few days or a month from now.  I
really don't.  I'd feel I had ... well, raped you of your youth and
inexperience.  And I'm afraid you'd start to feel the same way."

   Her gaze had faltered and I lifted her chin again with a
fingertip.  "I will *not* do anything that could hurt you, Philly. 
Or anything that might make *you* feel you had been hurt.  We met
right here and I think it's better that we part right here.  You've
learned the best and most important thing about sex.  I don't think
it would be fair to you to teach you anything more just yet."

   I felt a pang; her expression had become sad.  But she nodded
slowly and gave me the gift of a small, sweet smile.  She
understood that I wasn't trying to get rid of her, that was the
most important thing -- that I really was giving up what my body
was clamoring for, in favor of what I thought was best for her.

   She put her hands on my shoulders and squeezed as she slowly
lifted her body off mine.  We stood in the waist-deep water and she
melted into my arms in a close, affectionate embrace.  Then she
lifted her face and kissed me so thoroughly I felt my toes curl.

   "My first lover,..." she whispered.  "My very first, and I'm so
glad it was you, Sam."  There were small tears at the corners of
her eyes.  Or maybe it was just the steam.

   What I said just before we parted was probably stupid and
certainly ridiculous, but I had to say it anyway: "Philly, I do
love you."  Her mouth trembled as she touched my cheek with her
hand.  "I know you do." 

                               *  *  *  *  *

    I walked her toward the steps of the jacuzzi, our arms about
each other.  She hugged me for the last time and kissed me very
lightly on the lips, and then she was hurrying up the steps,
shivering in the breeze.  I suddenly realized, as I watched her
long legs and firm little ass, that our entire encounter had been
at least partly under water.  I wasn't sure I had ever even seen
her feet.

   For a long moment, I looked at that vibrant young body moving
among the other bodies on the pool deck, heading for wherever she
had stashed her clothing -- what would she have worn? I wondered --
and I came within a heartbeat of rushing after her.  But common
sense -- and self-preservation, probably -- closed in and I turned
quickly away and moved back out of Philly's view.  I didn't want
her to turn around and find me staring after her.  I started back
to the end of the bench but then changed my mind and moved over to
the far wall, near one of the hot water jets.  I crouched down
morosely in front of it for another thirty minutes before I was
finally able to haul myself out of the hot pool.  I toweled off
with my tee-shirt, pulled on my pants and shoes, and made my way
back to my room.  It was just after 2:00 in the morning.  A
four-hour affair, more or less, and from first meeting to final
parting we had both been naked.  A strange encounter indeed. 

    I kept an eye out for Philly for the remaining two days of
WorldCon, though I never actually expected to see her among the
nearly 5,000 attendees.  I never saw her again, that weekend or
later.  I never knew her last name, or even what state she lived
in.  She'd be thirty years old now, probably married, perhaps with
children.  I hope she's happy; she deserves to be.  And I hope she
found her "right guy," because she deserves that, too.  Sometimes
I see a pretty teenager with strawberry blonde hair at the mall who
reminds me of Philly and I'll think about that short, steamy
evening.  And I also hope she sometimes pauses and thinks of me. 
Of her first lover.

   
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Copyright 1993 by Michael K. Smith. Copies may be posted elsewhere
for personal enjoyment, but all commercial rights are reserved.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~