From mileend@ix.netcom.com Wed Aug 28 21:08:55 1996
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
Subject: New Story, true-After the Jr High Prom-Teen MFF Smoke Weed, Strip Poker, Oral, Tripping
From: mileend@ix.netcom.com (Hmmmm!  Yessss...!)
Date: Thu, 29 Aug 1996 01:08:55 GMT

  The following story is a true story. . .however with some minor
embellishments permited by my understandably biased memory. The names
have been changed. . .the locations are different.

But the circumstances did happen much in the way the story relates.


MY JUNIOR HIGH SCHOOL PROM: AT CANDYS' HOUSE AFTERWARD


     During my junior year in high
school, I had the opportunity to join a
club called the International Band and
Folkdancers. The members of this group
were all flaky. I took it up because of                (photo omitted)
loneliness, seeking female
companionship. My partner, which I
chose, was the best looking girl there,
good looking, but a little bit messed up
in the head.

     Candice (I called her Candy) was a
sophomore at Denver Senior High. She
stood about five foot two, a trifle short
by comparison to most gals her age, but
what she lost in height she made up for
in personal endowments. Candy had jet
black hair shoulder length worn with a
slight outward sweeping curl. Her hair
shone, the way you would expect a
Veronica or Sophia's hair would shine -
not a fine texture, but thick hair with
weight to it.

     Framed in that hair was a cherubic
face with high prominent cheekbones
permanently blushed. Ample out-turned
lips made sure you were aware that she
was a mature young woman and not a
short sophomore girl. Her eyes had a
deep fathomless quality behind the
black pupils. A guy could lose himself
trying to find her soul beneath those
eyes.

     As the reader is aware off by now, you note that I prefer my
women on the slightly thinner side. What possessed me to attach myself
to Candy? Her stature and the unmatched, if somewhat dumpy clothing
she wore, implied the type of body that was molded into the clothing.
You know, the type that looks absolutely voluptuous dressed, but
expands to a size 48 tub of lard upon removal of the tight panty-hose
and girdle.

     Candy was anything but that. What you saw clothed was the same
shape undressed. There were no elastic supports on this lady; she
didn't
need them and they surely would have been  a waste of time.

     Candice was a member of the Church of Scientology - an
organization, that if I understand everything Candice told me,
believes
the only form of government is anarchy.

     They have an aggressive recruiting program. saying they can take
care of the worlds problems through mind control and modification;
and that it would only cost $625 for the first class. Sounded like
mind
control to me, alright.

     My friend, Rick, and I tried to talk her out of the organization,
but our efforts never really worked until five years later when she
saw
the light of our reasoning.

     Pathetic as her membership in this organization was, it did have
some beneficial spinoffs for me.

     For one, Candice had moved away from her legal guardians
because the church said so. She lived in a house by herself.

     Two; Scientology preaches free love. This affected her way of
looking at life and her sexual relationships; though she was afraid
(as
any normal teenage girl growing up would be), she didn't have parental
guidance and because of the church's meddling with her mind she didn't
have the normal constraints of society. Her guardians were flakier
than
her.

     
     My most enduring memory of Candy is of our Junior Prom night.
Though Candice was a year younger than me, I flouted tradition and
asked her to be my date at the prom.

     I showed up at her house with a corsage. She wore the most
gorgeous red velvet dress, adding a certain flair of sensuousness to
the
air. I wore the obligatory black tuxedo. There is not much to say of
the
actual prom, other than ignoring girls in my class with an outsider,
getting our picture taken, and some very close dancing.

     After the prom, we when to the IHOP near the Civic Center for
breakfast with her guardians. Candice, though normally avoiding
contact with her guardians, had invited them to meet me and I knew my
meeting and making a good impression was very important to Candice.
She wanted to show and prove to them that she wasn't a slut, as they
seemed to impress upon her, but just a normal teenage girl trying to
grow up.

     They were very direct in their questioning and asked if I'd been
fucking their daughter and if I had enjoyed it. Upon my negative nod,
her step-father told me bluntly that I ought to get some  saying he
ought
to know, he's had her many times. Even his new wife was no moral help.
She's lecherously eyeing my crotch.

     I tried my best to maintain my composure, but they soon had me
to a quivering mass of jelly, embarrassed and fidgeting to get out of
there. We finally said our goodbyes, without the convictions behind
them; even declining a much needed ride north on a cold and frigid
night. Instead, we availed ourselves of a Farwest cab.

     The ride to her place is quiet; uneventful. She is simmering I
feel. I
can understand why. She has been embarrassed and made to feel worse
than a two-bit whore in front of a date she has just presented to
uphold
her respectability. I don't know the whole story; just what she has
been
through in her home life, but I think her running away and becoming
hooked up with the scientologists is somehow related to the treatment
she has gotten at home. She has tried to mend fences and as I was
about
to find out, she was going to tear those fences down forever, to
totally
alienate herself from her family. I could feel to raw hatred.

     I also took note that I was beginning to assume some of this heat
myself. I was present at this despicable scene. However, I never
expected that I would be her instrument of revenge, albeit, an unknown
and un-presented instrument. We held hands in the cab, but I was
holding a cold lifeless hand - Candice' energies were directed
elsewhere;
she was debating some fundamental course of action; and I was
available.

     Five dollars and thirtyÄfive cents later we pulled up the
darkened
street on upper View Ridge, pulling to the curb in front of her house.
Candice opens her side before I can get out and huffs off towards the
steep, unpainted wooden steps up to the front porch.

     "Do you want me to wait for you?", asks the hack.

     "No, I don't suppose so. I can catch the bus home from here." And
the cabbie drives off with a knowing conspiratorial smile on his face.
No wonder no one likes cabbies.

     I rush up beside her fumbling for her keys in her clutch,
difficult
to find anything under the burned out porch light.

     I can't think of much to say to her. It has been a spoiled night
for
me. Even more so for her. "I enjoyed myself tonight, Candy. Really, I
did.", but I don't sound all that convincing to her and she knows it.

     She finally locates her keys and clutching them in frustration,
turns to face me, the rage still there, but softened by glistening
eyes,
ready to let forth a torrent should her guard ever relax so much as a
hairbreadth.

     "I tried so much to be normal, to show them I was good and
proper and respectable. I've lived with that asshole for so long that
I
don't know what's proper and right anymore.

     She pauses to stifle a sniffle with the back of her hand; I don't
know what to say.

     "I tried to get you as mine to be mine, and not what they wanted.
I
tried to make it a good night for us but I failed. I'm sorry" the lone
tear
in the corner of her eye welling up, about to breach the dike.

     "I'm not going to worry about your parents. We tried, but after
all,
I went out with you and you're the one I'm trying to impress, not
you're
parents. I took you to the prom because I like you, and you were
marvelous. Did you see how many turned their heads to see you? Don't
put yourself down." I grasp her by the shoulders trying to emphasize
my
point, but I see doubt and anger still there. "Is there anything I can
do
before I go home, honey?" I say softly. I regret having to leave her
in this
state, but the last bus of the night will be going by in about fifteen
minutes and I'll have the rush the six blocks to catch it. I don't
look
forward to a cold, damp and dismal walk home at three in the morning.

     "Stay with me tonight. Stay and keep me company. I need someone
around me now; I'm all alone in the world now - don't have anybody to
call on."

     I'd never stayed out all night; at least not to the point, that
after a
night of carousing with the guys, I wouldn't be back in my own bed at
home by five or six in the morning. To stay with a woman all night,
with the implications that you just can't get up at six and sneak home
(after all, that wouldn't be proper); but must stay through the next
morning, and probably the better part of the next afternoon as well -
well I don't know. I wanted to, but my responsibilities to home said
this
was a noÄno; jumping into the frying pan on the other burner when
they haven't even lit the fire under you yet. You know what they say
about fools would tread where they shouldn't. Well I certainly wasn't
an
angel.

     Problem was, Candy was vulnerable. Vulnerable to herself (the
altruism in me) and vulnerable to me (the devil may care in me). I let
myself be led in, hook, line and sinker and onto the living room sofa.

     Candy wasn't rich and the surroundings reflected the frugalness
of
her existence. Furnished early college-freshman style with shelves
made
of painted cinder blocks and pine planks; K-mart special stereo and
lots
of bean bag chairs scattered around the dimly lit room. The sofa I was
sitting on had seen many a year in other living rooms before ending up
here. But the place was clean I could see; something to be proud of
given the circumstances. I knew Candy was a proud woman.

     It was with a surprise that I recognized the ziplock, rolled
baggie
with shredded wheat inside for what it was, and for the bottle of not
quite cold Cold Duck sparkling wine Candy brought out from the
kitchen, shutting off the lights behind her.

     She busies herself rolling a deft pinwheel joint while I watch in
fascination; so, I get up to play some music on the stereo. Some
records
we have in common, something light and befitting this mood, I put on
some Mystic Moods and join her in an oversized bean bag chair and
take the offered joint, inhaling deeply and holding as I feel the
thick
acrid smoke clear from my lungs into my bloodstream.

     I am not a frequent user of weed. On the few occasions I've
partaken (all since moving to here), I've noticed that it strikes me
very
fast and potently. So fast and effectively that I avoid it except
under the
most secure and familiar of circumstances. I have a very thin
ego-shell
and worry about exposing the real me. As they say, knowledge of thine
enemy is the most potent weapon.

     It is perhaps a tribute to Candy that I did accept that night. We
had never toked together before - I wasn't even aware she did, nor
she,
I. But I felt very comfortable here with her; alone, just the two of
us,
behind a securely locked door and no wild parties to arouse the ire of
the neighbors. Too, Candy's psyche was an open wound, the ragged
edges of her needs requiring attention.

     I couldn't empathize with her needs unless I dropped my barriers
to show that I was just as vulnerable. I accepted, took a guzzle of
Cold
Duck and settled back into the bean bag with Candy criss-cross over my
stomach, my drawn up knees supporting her back. I let the beautiful
sounds of a rainstorm accompanied to the piano recital of Sleepy
Shores waft over and through my senses. Like I said, I've always
enjoyed
the Mystic Moods orchestra with its mixing of natural occurrences
(like
rain) with mood setting music. The mood was set.

     We shared a second joint between us, this one more
conventionally rolled with a hefty helping of grass. This hog of the
tokes, a veritable Columbian Cigar was meant to reinforce and amplify
for a longer period of time the high we got from the pinwheel at the
'snap of a switch'. It was heady, cloying smoke that we tunneled into
each other.

     The method of 'tunneling' is an art in the MJ culture. It means
to
take to lit joint backwards into your mouth, while your partner takes
the other end, and to blow the THC laden smoke forcibly into the lungs
of your partner. Doing it this way produces less carbonized burn
products, release of greater amounts of the volatile oils of THC, and
more volume of smoke in the lungs than your partner can reasonably
expect to draw under his or her own power. The effect is dynamite. The
high produced is higher, more sense distorting, and longer lasting
than
toking three to four times the regular way.

     I was glad when we finally finished that joint. I wanted to enjoy
this floating consciousness. My hand holding my glass of wine in
Candy's lap was frozen and I stared at it for the longest time, trying
to
make the glass move. I didn't want a drink, I just wanted that
obstinate
glass to move. Finally I manage to tilt the glass enough but all I
managed was slopping half the wine into her lap. I felt the moisture
over my hand, wet under where her beautiful dress collected a puddle
of
slowly warming vin a' rouge. We both giggled at my feeble attempts as
I
try to slurp the spilled wine from her lap.

     "Come on Larry. Let me change out of this dress into clothes you
can make a mess out of without destroying", Cathy says as she climbs
unsteadily to her feet and toddles off to the bedroom.

     I make myself busy finding some more mood music for the player
and plop back down into my now comfortable bean bag. It has a
well-worn indent where my body slides right back into.

     Cathy returns dressed in now familiar jeans and cream-colored
blouse and plops right back into her comfortable niche, facing me,
back
propped against my knees, legs straight out beside me. I run my hand
lightly up the inside of her legs and back a couple of times, bringing
my
up-turned palm to a rest atop the pubic arch, the back of my hand
feeling the warmth beneath. Cathy rests her own glass, atop my palm,
hands steepled  around the stem.

     

     I stare across the arms length interval between us. My head  is
swirling as I try to focus on myself, dressed in faded jeans and
creamy-white blouse. I feel the heat exuding from my crotch. I feel
sensuous, an ache between my legs that cries for something, a need, a
lacking.


     Lifting my hand, I undo one of the buttons to my blouse, reaching
under to feel the firmness of each breast, nipples hard and painfully
sensitive. Why ain't I wearing my bra? I undo a few more buttons and
let the warm evening air circulate around my taut skin, each small
flurry of breeze sending shivers up the inner thighs. I'm intrigued as
I
study my breast from a distance, one in each palm. They don't exactly
weigh the same. The one on the left, which is my right, is heavier,
but
the same size, it seems. Candy is doing something between my legs and
it feels exciting.

     Maybe I could tell the difference between titties if I tasted
them,
so I reach forward, titties still in hand and give a 'popsicle-like'
suck,
taking in each nipple and letting it slide out over my tongue,
grasping
the fore-end of each nipple lightly between my teeth before they wetly
pop free again. Slightly salty; not bad! Something is definitely going
on
between my legs, I feel it as if I had an extension there, stuck out
in the
cold being slowly pulled up and down. I feel someone's fingers wrapped
around me, but I have no dick, I have a vagina...that's silly, and I
reach
down to feel my pussy, spreading my legs just so wide to accompany my
hand. There is nothing there; but I feel the hand going up and down.

     I undo the button to my jeans, sliding
the brass zipper down. With both hands, I
yank my jeans and panties down to my
ankles with one fluid pull towards me.
Reaching out a finger, I run it up the lips to
emerge wet and slick as well-oiled
machinery. Absent-mindedly sucking my
finger dry, I suddenly feel the urge for
something to eat. Eat! Isn't that what men do
to women and vice versa? I wonder what I
taste like and I bury my head between my
pussy voraciously attacking with tongue and
teeth the soft tender meat there.

     "Easy Larry! I'm not a piece of
hamburger to chew on. Tenderly and slowly.
Please", cries Cathy and I realize where I am
all of a sudden and taper of my attack.

     I reclaim my identity and body as I
delightedly feel a moist warm cavern
descend over my cock, taking me to the base,
where lips tightly seal and Cathy begins to
draw up, her tongue rolling acrobatically
over my shaft. I groan with pleasure.

     Rolling Cathy atop me in one fluid, if awkward, motion, I run my
tongue around the inside of her pussy taking in the animal smell of
musk. I pass my tongue rapidly, butterfly style , slowing down now and
then to feel the texture with my tongue. I can feel her shudders as
she
alternately  tightens and relaxes her thigh muscles slapping against
my
trapped head like a sledgehammer.

     Candy's clitoris is an ample piece of dark red flaccid meat,
triangular in shape, with a tumescent shaft rising along the lower
edge;
the actual love bud; packed with thousands upon thousands of
sensitive nerve endings. It is about threeÄquarters to an inch long,
enough to protrude from the outer labia when those lips are closed.
The
sides are soft and smooth, like the walls of her pussy lips. No
patterns
in this skin as elsewhere on the body. No one will ever finger-print a
pussy.

     Candy's cocksucking has progressed to a steady up and down
pattern with a new twist to it. As she goes down, her lips just barely
skimming the skin, tongue dancing whirlpools over the head and
retreating back into her mouth to stay over the pee-hole, she rotates
her
mouth about ninety degrees, only to rotate back in the other direction
as she draws my cock up with her now tight lips.

     Each time her lips close over the head on the up-stroke, she
darts
the pointed tip of her tongue sharply into the pee-hole eliciting a
pleasurable tingle of sharp pain. The lip-tight seal is complete as
she
clears the head taking and swallowing the lubricating saliva
intermixed
with the first tentative drops of seminal fluid.

     Each ever-increasing downstroke brings the head closer to the
glottis, the underside of my cockhead feeling the texture, every rough
tastebud coating the surface, contributing a little taste of me to
each;
sweet, sour, bitter, or salty bud tasting cock. I can by God, feel the
bony
ridge of the roof of her mouth covered by smooth mucus membranes.

     My face is wet; covered with salty-thick pussy juice. I open my
mouth as wide as I can planting it atop lips and clitoris both, trying
to
suck as much of her in as possible, vacuuming the juice down over my
tongue for flavor and down my throat for sustenance. While my lips
hold her pussy captive, my tongue washes and licks every nook and
cranny. I suck as hard as I can over the clit, drawing as much blood
to
the surface as possible, heightening her sensations.

     Licking both thumb and forefinger of my free hand, I slowly guide
one each into her anus and vagina; ever so slowly so as not to cause
harm until her natural lubrication takes over. I can only penetrate a
half inch of so into her anus, but it is enough to rouse a wide more
feral
beast in her. My thumb is in her vagina to the hilt keeping time to
the
mouth-sucking she is giving me. Her spasms have already tried to pinch
it free from my hand.

     White mucus is forming a ring about the base of my captured
thumb. . . a waxy dike around her vaginal mouth. . . and I tongue
around it to get a taste of her inner joy. Tart, almost like alum. So
much
different than the clear pre-nuptial lubricant. I savor it for the
fervor of
the moment. All my senses are playing a part in this.

     Cathy is going wild on my manhood now; attempting to swallow
me whole, if possible. She no longer travels the entire length of my
cock,
instead leaving the furthest down she's gotten in her throat, relaxing
her lips, her tongue lying flat and quiet. Saliva drips and slides
from
her mouth as she makes small up and down jabbing motions with her
head, my cockhead bending slightly as it rounds the downward turn in
her throat at the base of her tongue. I can feel the barrier each time
my
cock softly runs into her glottal muscle, partially open and forced
more
each time she slightly withdraws an eighth inch and forward a quarter.

     I place my other hand atop her head reinforcing and adding my
own desired thrust up with my cock. Finally I feel her throat muscle
relax and with a vicious upward thrust with my cock and a violent
downward push of her head, her lips slam and mash into the hairs at
the base of my dick. Her lips nibble and stretch to the loose skin of
my
scrotum. . .as if she wants to suck my balls up into her mouth as
well.
She tightens her lips and mouth, starting a sideways sweeping motion
with her flattened tongue. The smooth muscle lining the esophagus has
started its own milking action, trying to swallow the head of my cock
protruding through the glottis. I can feel every action from Candy's
voluntary sucking in her mouth to the heavenly automatic milking in
her throat. I feel the full feeling spreading like acid up the tube of
my
cock. My dick begins to throb in her mouth, so tightly and irrevocably
locked onto me.

     I pull my thumb free of her hole and jab my tongue into her
vagina as far as it will go during a relaxation of the spasms; only to
be
locked onto as her vaginal muscles begin their rhythmic contractions
around the tip of my tongue. I'm barely able to breathe, my nose is
squashed against her buttocks. I play my fingers in fast motion across
her clit as first one wave, and then another crest over my tongue,
being
torn out by the roots.

     I can't stand it so I begin rapid and violent thrusting motions
with
my hips raising them fast and hard her facet only to have her head,
locked in place and milking away, bob up and down with my thrust. 

     "My God. I'm coming! Suck me, baby. Suck me dry, uh!!!", I
shudder between clenched teeth as a hot and full load of semen
explodes free, burning the length of the shaft as it spurts upward.
"Take
all of me, every last fucking drop baby!!!" 

     With each ecstatic spurt, I feel her tongue draw backward to
accommodate her drinking reflex, throat muscle doubling the rate of
milking. One spurt, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine,
ten,
eleven, twelve electric jolts; and each a complete tube emptying.

     Finally the jetting ends and I relax my death's grip in her jet
black
hair allowing my cock-head to slip free of her esophagus. Her tongue
is
slippery and slick with my semen as she begins a gentle milking
action,
the tip of her tongue running up the underside to milk every last drop
from my relaxed penis and down her throat.

     I feel myself going soft in her mouth, her bruised lips still
sucking
the last drops of cum from my cock. I drop back exhausted as she rolls
off me.

     My face is covered with her sticky love juices drying
masque-like,
immobilizing the skin. My eyes itch from intrusions of alkaline juices
smelling for all the world as if I were still between her legs sucking
away.

     I have only to run my tongue through my mustache to relive the
tense arousal of the last half hour.

     Candy is grinning widely at me, a drool of semen marring her
pixie features from lips to chin. She reaches down and pulls draped
slacks from her ankles then removes her sweat-drenched blouse
stretching languorously in her aroused nakedness.

     "Let's go at it again", she says, helping me to remove the rest
of my
clothes, discarding them carelessly to the side; then taking my soft
cock
again into her mouth, slowly rolling her tongue in a massage designed
to cleanse it of cum and work it to hardness again.

     At first, her tongue-work is just an irritant to my sensitive and
sated cock; but Candy keeps up the tongue massage and adds a sucking
rolling vacuum that soon has me feeling renewed desire and I feel
myself growing behind her teeth again. After five or six minutes of
her
tender ministrations I am rock-hard and ready to go again, but Candy
stops her work at this point and straddles me, lowering her pussy
directly atop my cock.

     Ever so slowly she allows me to enter her, controlling her down
movements alternating with small up jabs to spread the lubrication
and accommodate my throbbing dick. The warmth of her vagina is
almost enough to send me off; but I control my impulses and
concentrate on the ceiling.

     When I'm buried to the hilt, Candy tucks her feet behind her and
hands upon my chest starts a rhythmic up and down crescendo of slow,
sliding, and sensuous fucks that hold me just at the borderline as I
feel
the texture inside her with my cock. Up...Down...Up...Down. My cock is
wet with her juices and is frigid cold when she is up, only the head
in
the firebox. Every time she descends she sends shivers through me as
cold dick and hot vagina co-mingle.

     Her juices run through my forest and over my balls, cooling in
the
night air. The evaporation causes my sac to tighten and pull my balls
in close; and the juices continue, flowing across the peritoneum and
across my asshole and onto the slick plastic of the bean bag.

     Her vagina is not so tight now; fully oiled. I feel a bead of cum
work its' way towards the tip, tingling and stinging a little as a
prelude
to what will soon happen.  My prostate cannot long hold back this
pressure building.

     I deposit this lone drop of cum on her cervix as I bump into it
on
one of her downstrokes.

     Hands on her hips, I guide her more forcibly onto my cock;
deeper and faster pushing against her cervix until she stretches the
length to give me a bottomless pit to drive into.

     Candy picks up the increasing tempo her vaginal muscles
twitching now and then to grasp my cock and momentarily stop its'
flight.

     Abruptly, Candy stops, vagina tightened around my almost
jetting cock. My climax is stopped midstream!

     I'm buried to the hilt between her hips trying to grind in and
find
release. I feel a mini-climax as I spasm lightly into her in empty
throbs;
feeling the pleasure of coming; but not letting loose my load and
staying constantly hard.

     "Feel good, Larry?" she asks all too knowingly. She has read me
like a book and knows when to cut-off or slow down stimulation.

     As I nod my head in agreement, she draws her knees, at my sides,
closer together, raising her pussy a little off my pelvis. With one
hand,
she reaches behind her and grasps my sac, fondling my balls roughly.
Her other hand goes to the base of my cock and fingers pinch the
urethra tightly closed.

     This quickly dampens my climax but keeps me hard inside her.
Up and down her pussy goes.

     Her vaginal muscles tighten clamp-like around my cock each time
she withdraws, milking my penis. I come full-blown only to throb
against her finger cutting off exit at the bottom of my cock.

     Nowhere to go, it resides and we work it up again. I must have
release, but each time I come, she cuts it off and continues the
thrusting.

     My cock is painful; sore from rubbing in a tight pussy, squeezed
at the base.

     Again I cum and she clamps her fingers at the base but I cannot
be denied. I feel a full-blown climax and feel the jetting and
pulsations;
but I also feel a sharp pain inside me and I realize that I have cum
inside myself. I have shunted the semen up my urethra and into my
bladder. Candy's pressure on my cock has kept it hard and thought I
am sated I continue to thrust into her as I feel her build towards a
massive climax.

     Candy has abandoned all finesse now and slams her pussy hard
and fast onto my pole in earnest desire. I slam upwards with each
downstroke and her vagina clamps hard around my sore cock as she
begins a rhythmic shudder and collapses atop me.

     We lay there like this for some time, cuddling each other and
kissing deeply, my half-limp cock inside her spread legs.

     We roll over so that I am on top and tongues still entwined, I
slow-fuck her in a loving fashion designed to be felt with the
romantic
senses and prolonged. I am hard again but feel no immediacy to ram
inside her; rather I feel like I'd like to prolong this all night.
Candy
responds by sensuously rolling her hips into mine.

     My hands roam her body feeling the texture and goose-bumps of
her skin in the night air. I lift my chest to cup her tits and massage
them ever so slowly as her tongue digs deeper into my mouth. I taste
her saliva and we share our juices. Our tongues fuck each others
throats, dancing tip-to-tip.

     Candy wraps her legs around my  torso, hooking ankles together.
In and out like a slow, hot knife into butter. My cock is battered and
bruised but is still up to the renewed sensations of a slow fuck; the
tension of coming there, but the ability to hold it back and ride the
crest much as a surfer rides the crest of a large wave. I do not want
to
come crashing down just yet.

     "Does it feel good, Candy?"

     "Oh, God...yes!" she says. "I want to keep this up forever."

     "Me too. I've felt like coming a hundred times. No one told me
going slowly could be like this...Uh...Uh...Jesus! it feels so nice
inside
you! I want to come." I pant into her ear.

     Just then, the phone rings. God, what an incessant distraction.
Candy is startled and contracts her vagina. I lose all control and
begin
to spasm into her spurting hot cum as I bury my cock deep into her
convulsing pussy. Candy scrapes her fingers across my back as she
bucks into me taking all of my cock and more.

     We lay silently, panting heavy and exhausted while the phone
continues to ring in the background.

     Finally, laughing together she reaches for the phone on the table
beside us, our bodies still locked together. I listen to her trying to
catch
her breath and answer the phone at the same time.

     "Hello"

     "Oh, hi...No, I wasn't doing anything special. Just watching
TV...

     "No. I had to run from the kitchen. I'm alright...

     "I'd rather not, Lisa. I've got company...

     "Come on. What's wrong?...

     "Okay. You can come over...Ya. I'm sorry to hear that too. Come
on over and we'll talk. Larry's here...

     "Okay and I'll see you in awhile...Bye." and she replaced the
handset.

     "I'm sorry, Larry. I do want to be alone with you. That was Lisa
and she's got some problems she wants to talk about...I guess our fun
is
over for the night."

     "Okay sweets. Let's get presentable and straighten up this place
before she arrives. What time is it?"

     "About four AM. Where's my panties?"

     "Over there...beside the wine bottle." I give her a quick peck on
the lips and start pulling on my clothes.

     Lisa is a pert little girl; a sophomore at Denver. I'd seen her
at
school but paid scant attention other than fleeting appraisals of her
sexy lines. Candy knew her well and they often were seen talking
together.

     We had turned on the TV on to support our contention of our
activities and had just about covered all other tracks of our loving
when the doorbell rang.

     It was Lisa, all bundled up against the cold night. Candy let her
in and I noticed that she wobbled at little unsteadily. Under that
bulky
coat she was clad in a stunning mini-dress that emphasized her
shapely legs and thighs and cut low across the bodice giving ample
evidence of her swelling cleavage that this was not a girl, but a
growing
woman.

     Candy navigated her to the couch and plopped her down on it.
Lisa landed with a bounce and settled back, legs separated. I could
see
hints of her panties from my vantage on the bean-bag on the floor in
front of her. I absently rubbed my cock through my pants in sexual
desire.

     Lisa noticed me a moment later and said "Hi, Larry", as if I were
part of the furniture. 

     She was preoccupied with a problem, so I said hello and leaned
back to watch an insane movie about werewolves on channel 13.

     Watching TV from the position I was in was difficult because of
the angle, so I slowly edged my way over towards the sofa, resting my
back against it, still sitting on the floor besides Lisa's legs. Candy
came
over and sat down next to me and I draped my arm over her shoulders.
Lisa's legs vibrated a warmth I could feel against my arm and
shoulder,
and I sneaked glances at them.

     After awhile, Candy rolled another joint, lit it, and passed it
around. I took a heavy toke and turned around between Lisa's legs, one
hand on a knee and offered her the joint. She took it and sucked
greedily, then passed it back while I stared hungrily up her short
dress.

     We finished off two more joints and Candy turned the record
player back on. The TV was still on and we where getting the giggles
providing dialogue to the antics of the silent screen. Lisa slid off
the
sofa into a sitting position beside me, in the process, accidently
hiking
her already short skirt past her crotch.

     I lit another joint and offered Candy the first drag but she was
in
blissville against my shoulder, so I turned to Lisa. While she was
pulling on the joint and holding her breath, I traced my fingernails
up
and down the insides of her thighs. Ouuu, my cock was beginning to
tingle again.

     She looked at me impishly and slightly parted her thighs to give
me some more room. Emboldened, I ran my palm up her thighs and
cupped her panties crotch. I could feel the heat and dampness of her
womanhood as I rubbed trying to slip a finger under the elastic and
into her pussy. After a laidback moment, Lisa removed my hand to
lower down her thigh, near the knees.

     The shifting awoke Candy. "How long have I been asleep?" she
asked.

     "Only a few minutes", I said. "Let's play a game or something."

     "Okay", said Candy. "How about poker? I've got a deck of cards
around here somewhere." and she goes off to find them, returning a
moment later with a battered deck.

     "I've seen you around school", says Lisa as we spread out in a
circle on the carpet. "I didn't know you knew Candy."

     "We've been seeing each other for a few months now."

     "Yah, Larry and I are in the Folk Dancers together. That's where
we met", says Candy. "He's real nice...sexy", she says with a
conspiratorial wink at Lisa.

     "You're not too bad, either" I retort back at Candy. "For that
matter, you have good-looking girlfriends, Candy. I like Lisa!" I
said,
admiring Lisa's female form from the short distance separating us.

     "Behave yourself, you chauvinistic pig. You've had enough for one
night"

     "Enough what, Candy. Lisa interrupted the best part."

     Lisa is silent throughout this exchange but she is embarrassed
and fidgeting beside us. I busy myself rolling a few more joints,
lighting one and passing it to Lisa. Pretty soon we are all feeling
good
and giggling away, not really paying much attention to the poker game.

     I pour some more wine and pass it to Candy and Lisa snatching a
lingering kiss off of Lisa's lips as my free hand runs up her thigh.

     "Let's have some fun. Okay?", I say to the thick air around us.

     The girls are all for it and soon we are into a rip-roaring game
of
strip poker. Since I cannot keep my attention under the weed's
influence and these sexy women, I am not doing too well at this game
and am soon down to only my briefs left. The girls aren't doing too
well
either. Candy has her bra and panties left on and Lisa is down to her
silken panties; her small firm titties jutting firmly into the
smoke-filled
room.

     We are having fun though, giggling and pawing each other. I am
hard and wanting some action. My dick is hard and tent-like under my
briefs and I play with it through the sweaty cloth.

     "Let's make the game more daring", volunteers Candy. "How about
if the winner of each hand gets to tell the losers what to do and they
have to do it. Okay?"

     "Anything?" asks Lisa in mild shock though I don't know why
because we all are pretty well brazen and sinful right now.

     "Sure! Anything the winner wants the other two to do...just as
long as it's not dangerous or sick. Okay Larry?"

     "I agree. It'll make it more interesting and fun...We are having
fun, aren't we?"  No one really answers this question so to get things
started I pull my briefs off and toss them into the corner. My pole
sticks ramrod straight up and I slowly jerk it up and down revelling
in
the tingly feeling. "Come on girls, off with the rest of your clothes
and
start out on even ground with me...Come on Lisa. Don't be
embarrassed. Hell, you're half naked now and after all, you are among
friends. What ever happens between us tonight is after all among
friends. Let your inhibitions go and just enjoy your feelings. Be
natural."

     Lisa slowly peels her panties over her hips and down, finally
tossing them aside as she tightly clamps her legs together in mild
shyness. We begin the game.

     The first hand dealt I received a pair of fours and discarded two
for two more useless cards. Lisa won with a pair off nines and could
barely contain herself in glee and relief.

     "Come on Lisa. What do you want us to do."

     "Well. I don't know...Anything, right?...Larry, kiss Candy first
and
then me. A real deep down and passionate kiss with your hands behind
your back."

     Now this was more like it. Not exactly what I had in mind, but a
start. I move over to Candy.

     "Come on lover. I'm waiting," says Candy as our lips meet and my
tongue probes deep. 

     After an interminable amount of time Lisa slaps me on the rear
end and says, "Uh uh, Larry. My turn now."

     I scoot over beside Lisa and kiss her deeply, my arms embracing
her. Lisa breaks and tells me to put my hands behind my back and I do
so. The kiss is deep, our tongues fighting each other for domination.
All of a sudden, Lisa's hand is upon my cock, gripping it tightly and
pumping up and down. Each time I attempt to bring my arms around
front she firmly pushes them back behind my back.

     I lean forward against her and she tumbles backward with me
atop her naked form. Our lips are still mashed against each other and
she loses her grip on my dick. God I need her.

     With my legs, I force hers apart and wheedle my cock up against
the opening of her pussy and with one savage thrust enter her. I start
a
gentle yet full thrusting into her love box.

     Just as I feel the juices start to build up for eruption, Candys
fingers grab my balls and twist painfully. "No you don't lover. You
were
just told to kiss her. Now out and back to your corner." Candy keeps
the pressure on my sac until I pull all the way out and away. My cock
is
aching for love. All Lisa can do as she sits up is moan.

     The next hand has me with a pair of queens, ace high. I discard
the other two cards and come up with another queen and when we
show our cards I'm the winner.

     I chuckle to myself as I decide what punishment these two girls
deserve for stopping me twice tonight. A devious and sexy plan
evolves...

     "Since you two are close friends I want you to make love before
me."

     "No. Come on Larry", say Candy. "You can't be serious!" she says
in
astonishment.

     Lisa doesn't look to happy either though her head is hung low.

     "I hear it happens all the time between close girlfriends;
meeting
at slumber parties to dive between each others legs and lick each
other
up a frenzy."

     "You've done it before, haven't you Lisa?" I ask point blank.

     She doesn't answer so I continue, "You girls agreed to do
whatever
the winner wanted and I want to watch the two of you do it. Please!" I
look first with dejected eyes from Lisa to Candy acting like an
innocent
little boy in front of his momma.

     A few more pleases and more cajoling and Lisa starts to move
towards Candy as I move over to kiss Candy to take her mind off what
is to happen.

     Lisa starts by lightly kissing her way along Candy's thighs;
light
tracery along the insides. I can feel Candy respond in my arms so I
break loose and sit back to watch the two of them, idly playing with
myself.

     Candy is laying back on her elbows, legs straight out in front of
her and parted with Lisa's head moving closer and closer to Candy's
pussy. Her head is back, eyes closed and mouth open, her chest and
titties rising in slow ragged heaves.

     When Lisa's tongue finds her wet pussy and starts running
around in wide circles around the inside of her pussy lips, Candy
pulls
her knees up and leans back more.

     Lisa's rump is high into the air and all the more exciting, the
patch of lightly browned and bristly pussy mounding softly out
between her legs. I crawl on my knees behind her and kiss her closed
pussy lips, running the tip of my tongue up and down the soft cleft.
She tastes good; not as aromatic as Candy-- milder.

     Standing up behind with my hard cock horizontal in front of me I
guide it into her lovebox; slowly at first to loosen the oils and then
more forcibly to get further into her hot furnace.

     Candy groans under Lisa's tongue-lashing and Lisa presents more
of herself to me. I watch in sexual fever as my cock glides in and out
of
her--the indentation made as I push in and the clinging lips holding
my
dick tight as I pull out for another warming session.

     I go slow to enjoy this feeling of a tight pussy, never loosening
up; almost virgin. When I think of her possible virginity I almost
come
while halfway out of her so I stop for a moment to compose myself and
get under control; then start with fresh vigor.

     Lisa's pussy sticks to my cock like glue, squeezing tight, even
when I get my full length into her and am pounding up against her
cervix.

     Candy is laid all the way back now, a leg hooked over Lisa's neck
and her hands in Lisa's hair guiding her to her secret places and
muttering urgings to her. Lisa is rapidly flicking her tongue back and
forth over the tip of Candy's clit, trying to keep her position over
Candy as my ramming rocks her body back and forth on her knees.

     I squeeze Lisa's firm and ample buttocks cheeks together around
my cock elongating the tunnel I have available to slide my cock in and
out of and I pound the entire length of it, the cool skin of her ass
soothing the raw and hot skin of my pole before it enters Lisa's
firebox
again.

     Just then Candy goes rigid under Lisa's ministrations, her pubic
mound arched high in the air while she grabs great ragged breaths of
air between sobs of passion. I ram in fast and deep and let loose
inside
of Lisa's lovebox and as I feel the last of the jism squirt out the
tip, pull
out and scamper around the Candy's head and allow her to suck on my
softening and sticky cock.

     We roll over with Candy's lips atop my prong licking away and
Lisa crawls over to join us. I help her by directing her head down
between my legs where she swallows my balls one by one and gives
them a delicious licking. I manage to contort myself enough to get my
head between Lisa's thighs and get a taste of her sweet pussy
commingled with my sticky cum still oozing out the cunt hole.

     I've cum too many times already tonight and at most all I can
manage is a semi-hardness but the girls do me the honor of slowly
keeping up their sucking of the remainder of the night as I alternated
between pussies eating one while finger-twiddling the other.

     When I awoke the next morning we were still in this position
with my soft cock partially in Lisa's pert lips and dried out cum
crackling along its' shaft and hardened glue like along her cheeks. I
didn't stir from the comfortable position I was in for the better part
of
the morning until a craving to take a piss forced me the extricate
myself and get up.

     By the time I returned, still naked and sticky, the girls had
some
semblance of a breakfast ready with some hot coffee which I solely
needed. It was only after a long hot shower together that we got
dressed and said our goodbyes.

     Candy and I dated and got together at her place a few more times
on a steady basis but as school ended and I took summer employment
in a logging camp on Vancouver Island, we drifted apart and she fell
back in with the Scientologists. When I returned for my Senior year,
she was long gone with a cold trail.

     Lisa and I never mentioned that night again, though I saw her in
school every day and even dated her a couple of times. Our dates were
proper with just the right amount of groping and exploring but never
like this night had ever happened. She didn't want to talk about it
and
I didn't bring it up in deference to her wishes.

****

Thanks for all the support and encouragement from those who enjoyed my
previous posting. 
--

	Life is uncertain. Try the dessert first.

MileEnd@ix.netcom.com