Message-ID: <6701eli$9712231404@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Archived-At: <URL:http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year97/6701.txt>
From: losgud <lushgod@hotnomail.com>
Subject: RP--On The Houseboat
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d
Reply-To: see@iglou.com, end@iglou.com, note@iglou.com
X-Nntp-Posting-User: [unauthenticated]
Path: qz!not-for-mail
Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam
Approved: <usenet-approval@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded <story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Story-Submission: <story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Original-Message-ID: <349FFC3E.5498@hotnomail.com>
=========================
The following is total fiction. Any resemblance etc. is a product of your
imagination. This work is meant as ADULT entertainment. If the laws
where you sit say you're too young to read this, go away and turn
yourself in to the thought police. Even thinking about sex is dirty and
nasty and will warp your mind forever. Go watch a movie or play a
game that ends with a body count in the high four figures. Death and
destruction are good clean fun.
©1997 losgud. Personal use just fine. Archiving okay. Absolutely NO
for-profit use permitted. Reposting without notice is frowned upon.
Tampering with the text (rewriting) is illegal. Copyright violations will
fall under the jurisdiction of my principality, where the punishment is
to discourage repeat offenders. We cut your fucking hands off!
=========================
m/F con hum 1st
NOTE: Once again, hit the halfway point if you want to go straight to
the party. This is not a sex story, this is a story that has sex.
Remember: fiction is not fact, nor need it pretend to be. If your first
time was this good, I don't want to hear about it! Enjoy!
ON THE HOUSEBOAT
Every July for as far back as I could remember my parents and a
group of their friends had set aside an extended weekend to drive to a
huge man-made lake down at the other side of the state, where they
had the long-standing reservations of a large cottage and a houseboat.
I'd been included once when I was seven and had had a blast even
though there hadn't been any other kids to play with. These vacations,
I came to understand, weren't meant to include the children. Mrs.
Milner came _highly recommended_ by one of their sets of friends, so
my parents never made that error in judgment again. Mrs. Milner
became like my third grandmother. I saw her just once a year when
she came to stay in July. She was great fun to be with, cooked all my
favorite foods, and though she had her few hard-and-fast rules and was
not one to be crossed I basically had free rein the four or five days my
folks were gone.
A bit of problem arose the summer I turned fifteen. Mrs. Milner had
passed away the winter before. My parents began making noises about
engaging Madame Crutcher. _NO WAY!!_ was my immediate response.
She was the bane of my childhood. She made even the most evil baby-
sitters I'd known angels by comparison. The woman would just as soon
knock you against the wall as look at you. _Madame Crutcher_ was how
she insisted on being addressed, by me _and_ my parents. She was
two-hundred years old but kept her hair raven with bootblack, pulled
back so severely I thought it should peel off her scalp. She was as
strong as a bull, and twice as mean. I'd always secretly called her Old
Crow Breath.
The first third of my summer vacation was ruined by the tension and
anticipation. Days then weeks crept by without a suitable replacement
being found. I begged them to leave me by myself, have a neighbor
check in on me, check me into Juvenile Hall, _anything_.
"Just not Old Crow Breath!" I begged.
"Old What What?" they asked in unison. I'd never breathed her secret
name in public before.
"Old Crow Breath, because that's exactly what she is. A big scary
nasty black bird that eats dead things by the side of the road."
They both roared. If anything, they liked her even less than I did.
Imagine the feeling of being an adult, and still being intimidated by her.
"I swear, if she sets foot in this house, I will not be here when you get
back." I was deadly serious. And they knew it. "If nothing else, take
me with you. Ask the others. I'm not really a kid anymore. I'll stay
out of the way. I'll do exactly what I'm told. Go out for steak and
lobster and leave me with a loaf of bread and a jar of peanut butter. I
won't complain about a thing. I'll sleep in the car! If I get thirsty, I'll
boil up a little lake water. It'll be okay, everything'll be fine. No one
will even know I'm there." I was desperate. They knew this as well.
The first night they had the first big bash aboard the houseboat. I
nearly instantly endeared myself to all the other grown ups. I became
the resident Omega male so all the guys could feel great. For the
women I was a cross between the perfectly well-mannered boy they
wished they had, and the cute little houseboy they wished they could
have. I was fetching beers left and right, and with a quick little
coaching from Mrs. Ewing mixing up suitably stiff versions of any
cocktail anyone cared to order. When it finally came time for something
to eat to really be ready, I was already well at the tasks. So no drunk
had to burn the boat down trying to light the charcoal. I made sure
the meat was properly cooked when they'd all resigned themselves to
the usual fare of crunchy black on the outside and squishy red inside.
I managed the roasted corn and baked potatoes with alacrity. The
tossed salad was problematic because I was never a salad eater and had
no clue how to cut things up. Once again, Mrs. Ewing stepped over to
lend me a discreet hand. Her hands on my hands. Standing behind me
at the cutting board. The sweet hot tang of her alcohol breath on the
back of my neck. The nearly insistent nudgings of her breasts against
my shoulders. That was when I fully realized that my inclusion on the
trip had been a dreadful mistake, that I was in for a long weekend more
torturous than any I would have suffered at the hands Old Crow Breath.
I knew perfectly well that Mrs. Ewing was just a little unsteady with
drink, and that she was simply leaning in with full attention to showing
me how to cut perfect radish flowers. That wasn't the problem. The
problem wasn't behind, the problem was in front of me.
Mrs. Ewing was old enough to be my mother, though in fact she was
quite a few years younger. She was old enough to be my mother, but
her youngest child was half a dozen years older than me. Doing the
math confused me. The best I could figure was that she'd had her
oldest child when she was older than me but younger than her
youngest. None of that really mattered. All that mattered to me was
that I thought she was the most beautiful woman in all the world. And
that most of my primary erotic fantasies revolved around her. I mean,
it seemed as if my cock needed no reason to instantly spring erect,
declaring _yes sir, here I am sir, ready for action sir_. I could be
dozing off in Algebra class when _whoa, wake up, get those books in
your lap_. In private I would sometimes think of a few girls I knew
from class, but only in the most desultory manner. It's not as if any of
them ever even spoke to me. I was around Mrs. Ewing fairly often, and
she always stopped to address some smiling words my way. She had
such a pretty face and she really was about the sweetest person I'd
ever met. Once I hit puberty I could do little but stammer in front of
her. If she was facing me, I had to stare at her face to avoid the fact
that she had the most incredible _breasts_. She could be wearing chain
mail and still they'd just be the armor behind my wet dreams. Mostly,
of course, she took to tops that screamed _cleavage!_ Turned around,
well, her ass was the picture in the dictionary illustrating the meaning
of the word _luscious_.
It was sort of better that her husband wasn't on board, but in fact that
made it worse. The dumb prick had lighted off with his floozy
secretary a year before. The divorce had devastated Mrs. Ewing. I'd
always clung to the secret opinion that it was all for the best. She'd
obviously married the stupidest man in America.
The weekend would make me a wreck. I'd forgotten that Mrs. Ewing
would be there. There was no way I could walk around in my swimsuit
when she was around in hers. To make matters worse, I'd miscalculated
the sleeping arrangements. I knew that my parents always slept on the
boat, loving the rocking lull of the water, which left the third berth for
me. It wasn't until the opening party broke up and the three other
couples climbed into the motorboat--towed to the lake by one of them--
that I understood that the cabin held three single beds, that my bed
was actually Mrs. Ewing's, and that I was to sleep on the cushioned
bench in the galley. I of course had promised not to complain, and how
could I possibly explain that my complaint had nothing to do with the
discomfort of my bed? Generally a bed of nails couldn't keep me awake.
But the plushest feather mattress couldn't lull me to sleep when the
woman of my waking dreams lay nearly naked on a narrow bed barely
six feet away.
For a bunch of hungovered adults, they were all up early, even the
launch out from the pier. I gathered my bedding and left them to make
an inedible mess of breakfast as I crawled off to find an empty bunk.
In my sleepy stupor I jumped into the closest one, which was of course
Mrs. Ewing's. The warmth was gone, but god could I still smell her! I
drifted off to pleasant dreams, interrupted by shouts and the clatter of
cookware, people going in and out of the lavatory across the aisle. My
mother leaned in to whisper what I remembered from the previous
night's discussions: they were all planning to hop in the big motorboat
to the far end of the lake. Replenish the booze, have a late lunch, ski
and all sorts of stuff. I mumbled that was fine with me, turning back
to sleep. As I sunk down deep I swear I heard Mrs. Ewing mention in
passing, "Oh look! How sweet, all bundled up asleep. Isn't he the
original cutie."
I woke back up soon after. I had my plans for the day. I feasted on
the leftover breakfasts, then put on my cutoffs, grabbing a soda and a
book before heading for the back of the houseboat, where a little ladder
let up onto the roof. I'd go up there, scan around, then clamber back
down and beat off like crazy. Then go back up and relax awhile,
reading and sunning and sipping, keeping an eye on the water until it
was time for me to go back inside to beat off again.
I knew I'd need both hands free to hoist myself up. Before I got to
the top of the ladder I tossed my book up on the roof. _Slam_. Then I
stretched and set my can up there. _Thunk_. When I got to the top I
nearly fell of the ladder in surprise. The pair of legs were
foreshortened into stumps, ending in the twin globes of a delicious
looking rump. The tightly stretched band of bright orange fabric told
me it was Mrs. Ewing, but I really didn't need the hint. I stood there
on the ladder hypnotized. She was lying on her stomach, and from that
angle I could just see between her thighs all the way up to the thin
strip of material hiding the treasure of so many countless fantasies.
"Hi Jimmy, come on up and join me. Fantastic view!"
I was scowling and frowning and blushing, not that she was turned to
see. "Hi, Mrs. Ewing," I mumbled a grumble.
"I'm _sorry_."
I had no idea what she was talking about. "What?"
"You're a young man now, and your name is James. My mistake, and I'll
never repeat it." She curled onto her side to look at me. I could see
two things. I couldn't see her eyes, because she was wearing
sunglasses. And the way she was holding the cups of her top I knew
she'd undone the catch in the back. What truly amazed me was how
gracefully she'd corrected her faux pas, without adding any air of
condescension. And how did she know? I hadn't even told my parents
about that personal change. I climbed up
"Forgive me?" she asked in a teasing little voice.
"Oh sure, Mrs. Ewing."
"Now it's _your_ turn to say you're sorry!" she scolded. "We're both
adults, and my name is Marilyn! Got it?"
"Ye-e-es. I'm sorry, M-m-marilyn." _I was speaking the holy name!_
"That's better," she replied primly.
"Okay. Um, I didn't mean to intrude. I was just coming up here to
read a little. I didn't know you were up here." I backed up to the
ladder.
"Oh James!" she cried softly. "Sweetheart, no need to be so shy around
me. I don't bite. Well, not most of the time," she grinned. "Remember,
I invited you to join me. I'd _love_ your company. Why, you're my
absolute favorite young man in all the world. Besides, you're just the
man I need. Here," she nodded at the bottle, "be a love and do my
back before I turn into a pork rind."
Marilyn turned away leaving me to the decision. I took a deep breath,
then retrieved the lotion. I knelt beside her and started working it
across her back. Feeling stupidly silent, I stuttered into conversation,
"I thought, you see, everyone else, and, I didn't know."
She gave a little laugh. "Oh, racing off for more fun. I tell you James,
I had more than my share of fun last night. You mix a mean drink."
I was aghast! "Are you . . . sick? Is there anything I can do to help."
She tittered again. "Well, the first hour things were a little iffy, but
I'm fine now. Hale and hearty, but not quite raring for more. Just
keep on doing what you're doing. It feels _divine_. Go ahead and get
the backs of my legs and arms too if you will."
As if I wouldn't! Doing her arms kept me close to where I was on her
upper back. God, I could see the entire side of one of her breasts! As
I spread the lotion over the curve of her ribs I could actually feel the
first softness of their swelling. I had to hop over her to get to the
other arm. Then I worked down towards her hips. The bottom of her
suit was low cut. I knew not to dare sliding under the fabric,
contenting myself by running my fingers along the elastic edge. Then
Marilyn moved her hands to the back of the waistband and started
pushing them even lower. I was having a heart attack! She stopped
after just an inch, calling back, "Can you see the tan line yet? These
darn things are always riding up. Make sure you cover to it."
I didn't think to fib. I couldn't think of anything. I was mesmerized
by that line where her skin turned from amber to alabaster. And the
first half-inch hint of the declivity between her cheeks. I finally
managed to remind myself that I was supposed to be doing something,
though not the something that I wanted to be doing.
To do her legs I decided I'd better start down at her feet, to get as far
away from the sexiest part of her body and give myself some time to
calm down. From the knees on down I decided it made more sense not
to differentiate between front and back. I sat back on my heels, bent
her knee, and rested her shin and foot in the crevasse between my
thighs. I'd barely begun when Marilyn began rotating her ankle around
and around while curling her toes in and out. Even the leg I wasn't
working on was lifted a little, repeating the same motions. I was struck
dumb by the intense eroticism of the movements. I felt as if I was
watching her having sex. When she stretched her foot out it nearly
touched my crotch!
"O-oh James, you have talented hands. I don't want to keep you from
your book, but as long as your hands are all oily anywhere, would you
terribly mind giving me a little massage? Work my legs than come back
up to my back? I don't want to complain about my bed since you slept
on flotation cushions, but my muscles are a little stiff and sore from the
night."
Would I mind?! "Sure, Marilyn." What a conversational wizard I was! I
couldn't really reach all of her calf from where I was, so I moved to the
side. That made it easy to turn and work on the other lower leg. It
wasn't until I advanced to the thighs that I realized exactly what my
position was. I was working up her thighs, kneeling _between_ her
thighs. And she kept spreading her thighs!
"I understand you almost got stuck with the wicked witch of the west.
That woman is so-o evil. Somebody really should burn her at the stake!
I'm glad you didn't have to run away from home. Much nicer that you
could run away with us. Isn't this wonderful? Enough to make a
common woman such as myself feel like a queen. Here I lay on the roof
of my yacht in the gorgeous sun, with a handsome young man to attend
to my every desire." She gave a little laugh, "Yes indeed, heaven on
earth." The globes of her ass jiggled as she giggled.
I could scarcely concentrate on what Marilyn was saying. I knew that
underneath all the lovely padding the buttocks were a pair of large
muscles. but I didn't dare start rubbing there. I went up to the
elastic of the legs, my fingers just hinting at ducking under to the tan
line, but when it came time to work the sides of her thighs I didn't
know quite what to do. On the inside the edge of the suit went way up
_there!_ And there, the thin orange strip seemed puffier than before,
there seemed to be a slightly tangy aroma that wasn't cocoa butter,
things that I'd heard of in the vaguest of terms. All of reality was
blurring with the wildness of my imagination, and I couldn't truthfully
say what was going on. I made bold and brave, touching the tips of my
thumbs together and making calipers of my hands, grasping around her
thighs at the circle of elastic. I worked my way quickly down, but not
before I thought I felt a small twitching under the silky smooth skin of
her uppermost inner thigh.
I made sure to work her thighs all the way around. There wouldn't
really be any muscles on the front of her torso to massage, and I
couldn't chance her turning over for me to finish her legs. Luckily I
was wearing cutoffs instead of my suit, but with my original plans in
mind I'd thought it a bother to put on underwear. I could reach her
lower back from where I was, but any further my erection would be
bumping against her butt. I started to get up and move to one side
when Marilyn corrected me, "No, darling. You can't do a proper job at
that angle. Just straddle me. It's okay, we're all adults around here."
I actually wound up just sort of sitting on her ass. I couldn't believe
it! I went to work on her back with a passion. I even dared to rub
along the sides of her breasts, but in a purely professional fashion.
"Oh-h-h, god, James, I am so glad you are here for me right now.
Pardon me for being so greedy and selfish--I know you'd rather be
home spending time with your girlfriend--but this is absolutely
marvelous!"
My girlfriend? What girlfriend? "Oh, well, that's okay, this is great. I
mean, I don't really have a girlfriend or anything anyway."
"No?"
"No, well, no. I mean, there's no girls, I mean, girls, I mean, no girls,
like, girls don't seem to know I'm alive or anything. I mean, girls, um,
they don't talk to me or anything, I mean, girls are great, but I mean,
like, they don't even look at me." And with my grand social skills, no
wonder. Puberty had struck me as just another one of life's cruel
jokes. After several years of adjusting to my sexuality I'd come to the
understanding that despite the best intentions of my fantasy life, in
real life I was doomed to die a virgin.
"No girlfriend, hmm. Well, don't despair. I wouldn't worry about it too
much. You just need to work at overcoming your shyness. It's an
endearing quality, and it won't ever truly leave you, but you can't let
yourself become paralyzed by it. I bet all the girls are just panting
after you. You just don't know it yet. And once you do, _lucky
girls!_" Marilyn laughed.
I finished off her shoulders, trailing down her arms. "Oh James, _thank
you_, thank you oh so very much. That was totally delicious. Now if I
could beg of you one last favor, down in that midget fridge there's a
pitcher of iced tea," she prattled on as she rolled over underneath me.
My heart stopped! I tried to scuttle backwards out of view but there
was no time. There was no way for me to escape. There was nowhere
for me to hide. Marilyn was leaning up on her elbows, holding her top
with her hands. Her line of vision was directly at my crotch. Then she
looked up at my face. She removed her sunglasses with one hand,
resting entirely on that elbow as her other arm crossed over her chest
to keep the top secured. I was mortified! Pinned to my place with
petrification. Slowly her mouth came to life. "Oh my. Did I do that to
you?" I couldn't move much less answer. Much of the blood in my
body had rushed to my head, though none of it was in my brain. What
remained had the front of my pants visibly pulsating. "Well, I suppose
I should feel flattered, but then I know at your age even an ugly old
lady like myself can be arousing."
"You're not old!" I fairly shouted, stammering before I could stop
myself, "a-a-and I think y-y-you're the m-m-most beautiful w-w-woman
in the world."
Exactly then some huge flying bug buzzed around her head. She
instinctually shooed it away with her free hand, which left the orange
twist of cloth to tumble down to the bottom of her ribcage. Marilyn's
breasts were staring at me and I was staring right back, my mouth
dropped wide open.
She made a move as to cover herself up, but then stopped. She
stopped and just studied me. She stopped and time stopped. I could
see that Marilyn was thinking, thinking, thinking. I was thinking too.
I was thinking how without meaning to I'd just ruined the vacation. I
was thinking how I'd broken every vital promise I'd made to my
parents. My parents! I was thinking how I'd brought permanent
disgrace to my family name. I was thinking how they'd have to pack me
into a cage like the nasty animal I was and cart me back home the
minute they got back to the boat. I was thinking how they'd be so
embarrassed they'd have to take off to Europe for six months to forget.
I was thinking how they'd sign over my guardianship to Madame
Crutcher!
Marilyn started speaking in a thoughtful tone, as though to someone
else. I darted my glance behind, convinced that someone had boarded
the boat and was sneaking up the ladder. "I've been teasing you,
haven't I? I _have_ been teasing you. Have I been teasing you? I
know I have. I'm sorry, James. That wasn't very nice of me. Old
habits die hard. I was just having such a splendid time up here with
you. I guess I got a little carried away. Please accept my most sincere
apologies, James. I think I've learned a little lesson today."
I replied by just sort of blinking back at her. Marilyn wasn't mad at
me? It didn't sound like she was going to tell on me. _She_ was
apologizing to _me_? "I'm, I'm sorry too, Marilyn. Please accept my
apologies as well."
"Oh but James!" she replied most warmly, "you've done absolutely
nothing wrong. Don't you see? You have nothing to be sorry for.
You're hungry so your stomach grumbles--is that any moral flaw?"
"Well, yea, but in polite company . . . " I tossed off.
"You _are_ very polite, and you're the _best_ of company. At any rate,
as I said, I think I've learned my lesson." Marilyn bowed her head,
sounding so chastised. Now we were both staring at her breasts! "And
that lesson is," she said brightly, lifting her head and stopping to smile
while appraising my gaze. "That one mustn't start what one isn't
prepared to finish," she chirped. "I know what we can do now. As
long as I'm all nice and slippery," she reached for the front of my
shorts and quickly undid the buttons. My erection sprang into her
hands, which eagerly seized it. "Oh my goodness," Marilyn looked up at
me, her eyes big and round and sparkling. "_Nice_ cock, James! It's
even prettier than the rest of you. The one part of you that's _all
grown up_!"
"What do you mean? I mean, it's pretty small, isn't it?" I'd always
been very shower shy in gym, and I'd never regarded masturbation as
a team sport. My only real exposure to pornography had been the
borrow of a collection of dirty stories, in which all the men were
invariably compared to bulls and horses and mules. I knew there was
some hyperbole involved, but even so I was pretty sure that I
personally fell into the classification scheme somewhere among the lesser
rodents.
Marilyn gave a long low whistle that turned into a wolfish one. "James,
you have _nothing_ to worry about. Consider yourself exactly the
opposite. I promise you, once the girls get a look at this, you'll be
beating them off with a stick. Take it from me, the voice of experience.
I'm _quite_ impressed. Now, come here." She leaned back, keeping a
firm grip, pulling me along. When she was flat on her back, she nestled
my cock between her breasts, leaving it there to start squeezing them
together. "How does that feel?"
"Just incredible!" I groaned.
"_Just_ incredible?" Marilyn teased.
"_Totally_ so," I closed my eyes.
"I bet you know what to do now."
Well, does a dog know how to hump a leg? I was immersed in world of
new sensations. Many of them weren't even sexual. I felt, for the first
time in my life, completely relaxed, with myself and the world around
me. Deep inside me I felt the first spark of self-confidence. "You can
bet I know exactly what to do. Stay perfectly still, or else I'll explode
right now!"
Marilyn giggled. "You can touch, too." She took my hands in hers and
placed them where hers had been, keeping hers on top of mine, helping
me to squeeze her breasts as I slowly slid my cock back and forth in
between. Then she moved my hands around, leaving them there while
she resumed pushing her breasts together. "You never did rub my
front," she scolded. "Mmm, nipples are very sensitive but they give a
woman so much pleasure. Always remember, gentle is best. Feel them
getting hard? Yessss," she crooned with half-closed eyes, "mmmmm,
just like _that_. Do you know what this is called?" opening her eyes
brightly again. I shook my head. "This is tit-fucking. Isn't that
deliciously dirty to say? Think about that. You're fucking my tits.
You're tit-fucking me. Here I am lying back on the top of a houseboat
getting tit-fucked by a gorgeous young man with a great big cock. I
_am_ queen-for-the-day. Do you like this? Or is that a silly question?"
"Exactly what you said earlier. Heaven-on-earth. It's like in church
how they're always talking about the raptures waiting up in heaven. I
always thought they were referring to esoteric pleasures way up there,"
I cast my gaze to the sky. I returned my eyes glowering to hers. "I
had no idea the minister was talking about right up here, on the roof of
a houseboat, tit-fucking the super sexy woman of my dreams."
"Do you really mean that? Do you really dream of me? Do you really
think I'm sexy?"
"Well, yes, yes, yes, I do think of you, you know, when, well . . . "
"You think of me?" she continued for me at a rasping pant, "really?
when you get all hot and horny you think of me? or when you think of
me you get all worked up, you think of me and it makes you so hard,
thinking of me you just have to pull out this big beautiful cock of
yours, thinking of me drives you so wild you have to whip it out and
masturbate like crazy? Yea? Really? Uh huh?"
Second big blush of the day! "It's okay James, it's wonderful, it's
beautiful, it's perfectly natural. Everyone has their fantasies, and
everybody masturbates! As a matter of fact . . . oh hush your mouth
Marilyn. Quit babbling. I need a gag. Hmm, that gives me a _good_
idea. If you think this is nice, how about _this_?"
Marilyn pushed me away and slithered out from under me, rising up her
hands still on my chest, balancing against me then pushing me down on
my back. She pulled one leg out of my shorts then grabbed my cock,
giving it a lingering loving look before bending down, slathering her
tongue all around and up and down, slurping, lapping, licking and
flicking. Just when I thought I'd felt everything there was to feel, she
opened wide and sank her mouth all the way down over my cock. The
circle of her lips tightened as she slid her mouth up and down, her
cheeks going concave as she sucked and sucked, her tongue making
such motions it felt as if she had a mouthful of them.
"Oh Marilyn, oh Marilyn, oh Marilyn," I whimpered out my warning,
which just made her more frenetic in her movements. I felt a finger
slowly stroking forward from my anus to where the rest of the hand
held my balls in a gently clenching cradle. I just died! I exploded
with an intensity I'd never known before. The insanity of the pleasure
of the first spurt was equal to every orgasm I'd ever had combined.
And the sensations just kept coming and coming. Marilyn's head was
bobbing at a furious pace while she alternated between the sounds of
moaning and gulping. When at last I was finally finished, she slid her
lips from me and into a broad smile. I noticed drops of sperm at the
corners of her mouth. She noticed me noticing and darted her tongue
out to catch them, giving a shiver of pleasure that sent her breasts
swaying. She bent back down and gave my shrinking cock a thorough
tongue bath, then crawled up to nestle in my arms.
"So-o good," she exclaimed, "I really _really_ enjoyed that."
I gasped, "You think you enjoyed that!"
"My pleasure, pleasuring you," she whispered leaning her lips in to
mine.
My first kiss! And what a kiss! I didn't really know how to kiss, but I
was learning fast. She was kissing me as though she never intended to
stop kissing me. And at the same time Marilyn was almost imperceptibly
hunching her crotch against the leg of mine held between hers. My
hands on her back began rubbing slow circles, circles that lengthened
in to ovals, dipping lower and lower. The upper limits of my motions
moved slowly down her back as well. I paused for a breath when my
fingertips touched the waistband. I moved on over her bottom, then
reconsidered, drawing my hands up only to slip them back under the
fabric. Flesh against flesh, my hands were squeezing the globes of
Marilyn's wonderful ass, my forefingers trailing down into the
separation. Her breath caught and started coming in deeper gasps, but
we didn't break the kiss. Instead she stared into my eyes and began
thrusting her hips with a greater urgency. Out of the corner of my
eye I noticed that she'd bent a leg back at the knee, her foot up in the
air waving like a flag in a gentle breeze. She twirled her ankle in lazy
languorous circles while her toes curled and unfurled in a sensuous
display. Marilyn knew what I was looking at and broke the kiss for a
smile. She rose up on her elbows.
"You didn't know that before, did you? When you see a woman's foot
writhing like that you can be certain of one thing. She has something
very much on her mind. In her mind she may not know what she wants
to do about it. But her body knows exactly what it wants. It's a very
good moment for a man to be at his most persuasive." She rose fully
off me, then reached for my hand. "Come on, let's go below. I have
something I want to show you."
Marilyn wrapped her top in her beach towel and dropped it to the deck
while I pulled my shorts back up. We left all our other stuff right
where it was. When I joined her by the ladder she gave me a jaunty
look. "Your choice: which view do you prefer for the descent? The
fore or aft?"
"Not to slight the fore," I lightly plucked her nipples, "but I think I'll
chose the aft."
"Thought you might," she grinned, "in which case," she gestured to the
ladder, "_aft_er you."
I stepped down several rungs then stopped, watching as the twin
orange-clad delights lowered down towards my face. When they hovered
within reach I showered them with kisses, then, balancing forward on
my feet, I grasped her hips and gave a little nip to each side.
"_Oooh!_" she squealed, "so you sometimes do bite, too!" We climbed the
rest of the way down pressed together. At the bottom I stopped us
again, tight against her, running my hands up from her tummy to
massage her breasts while I nibbled at the back of her neck. "Oh
James," she moaned, "let's get inside." I released her and she bent to
fetch her towel. My fingers rippled across her rump, she darted a look
back with jewels in her eyes, and then I followed her into the cabin.
When we arrived at her berth Marilyn circled around behind me. "My
travel bag is under the bed. Would you pull it out for me, please." I
got down on my knees to get it, and she sank down with me. Her
hands pinched my ass, reached between my legs to cup my privates,
then circled around my waist. When I stood up with her bag my shorts
didn't, sinking to my ankles, all the front buttons undone. Marilyn took
the bag and unzipped it, reaching inside. "Remember what I started to
say up there? When I was babbling about fantasies and . . . and
masturbation?" She pulled out a pair of rumpled lace panties and
shoved them against my nose. "Smell? What do you think you smell?
These are the panties I wore to bed last night. You know you're
smelling my pussy, don't you? They're still damp, aren't they? This
morning they were soaking wet. I couldn't help myself. When I went to
bed I was so horny I just had to masturbate. I made myself come like
crazy in these panties. It wasn't easy. I had to be so quiet. Usually
I'm very noisy. Think about it. Last night while you were drifting off
to sleep I was lying here shoving my fingers up my cunt. And then all
night long I kept having these intensely erotic dreams. Girls have wet
dreams too. I had two or three last night. No wonder these panties
are still so damp. God, I love to masturbate. Would you like to watch
me play with myself? Right now?"
My head nodded, slowly, on its own accord.
Marilyn clambered into the bed, putting a pillow behind her back as she
sat against the headboard. She put her hands to her waist. In a flash
her legs went straight up in the air, then down again. Marilyn sat
there as before, but now she was dangling a small form of orange fabric
from her index finger. She tossed the bottoms at my face. "Smell
those," she commanded. They were like her panties, except much
stronger. She put her hands to the insides of her thighs, then spread
her legs wide.
And there was an honest-to-god cunt staring me in the face! "Do you
like what you see?" her hands trailed down. "These are my labia. See
how puffy and swollen they are? Usually they're not like that. This
means I'm incredibly excited." She slid a finger inside herself. "This
is my vagina. Inside is heaven-on-earth for a penis. See all the
wetness? That's the lubrication--pussy juice--an expression of
friendliness, because there's nothing a woman's cunt likes better than a
big hard cock sliding in and out of it. And up here, that's my clitoris.
It's even more sensitive than my nipples. Which means it delivers about
a thousand times the pleasure. See how I'm pumping my fingers in and
out while this other finger rubs my clit? That means I'm going to be
coming like crazy real soon. I wonder why I'm so hot? It wouldn't be
your fault, James, would it? Watching you watching me? Thinking
about last night? How I lay here making myself come while thinking of
you while you were laying barely six feet away and thinking how you
were so close and yet so far? Wondering what would happen if only
you knew how much I wanted you, knowing how much you wanted me. I
mean, what I mean, I mean what I mean is, what I mean, meaning what I
mean is what I mean and OH MY FUCKING GOD, James! James! OH GO-O-O-
OD, fucking fucking, OH JAMES! watch me OH OH O-O-O-HHHHH fucking
CO-O-O-MMMMEEEE!"
I waited, wordlessly, with bated breath. Once Marilyn had started
calming down I bent forward, spreading her quivering clenched thighs.
I lifted one of her hands away, holding it with my thumb in the palm,
fingers caressing the back, lifting it to my face, my eyes fixed on hers
while I slowly, one by one, sucked her fingers clean. Marilyn stroked
my face while I worked on the other hand. When I'd finished, she just
cradled my face, gazing down at me. Her hands moved up into my hair
as I lowered my head down to her cunt. "Yesss, oh god!
yessssssssssss. Eat me, James, suck my cunt, lick my hot pussy, drive
me wild!"
I hesitated, savoring her scent, unsure of what to do. I figured I'd
figure it out pretty quickly, but I wanted to keep the initial bumbling
to a minimum. So many conflicting verbs! Eat, suck, lick. _Drive?_
And do what where? Marilyn must have sensed my dilemma. She gently
crooned, "Do what ever you want, baby. It's your pussy to play with.
Just relax and enjoy. Whatever you want to do will feel _wonderful_ to
me. Just maybe give my clit a few minutes to calm down. The rest of
me is more than ready for you. _Oh James_," she gushed, "make me
come all over your face!"
Her aroma had the synapses in my brain firing like the Fourth of July.
Having had her fingers in my mouth had put the lie to rest about how a
woman tastes. I cautiously licked the moisture from her puffy lips.
Marilyn's cunt tasted the way it smelled, a combination designed by
nature to render any man blind to all but one primary purpose. I
thought of how she'd used her tongue and lips and mouth on me. I
thought of the ways and places in which she'd fingered herself. I
thought of how the lightest touches were often the most erotic, and how
once they'd accumulated to a level of breathtaking intensity just a few
brusquer gestures could make the entire universe explode. I thought
all of these things as my tongue circled a perimeter around her mons,
slowly spiraling inward. When I finally probed the tip between her lips,
Marilyn was wetter than ever. I realized that I did have quite the head
start. She was already so aroused, I could likely simply lightly blow on
her cunt and drive her nuts. I did just that, and it did just that. Her
fingers went dancing across my scalp, yanking at my hair. I nibbled
her lips with mine, then ran my tongue up and down the length of her
slit. When she would groan a little _yes!_ I knew I was doing something
right. Nothing seemed to elicit a negative response. I parted her lips
with my fingers and stuck my tongue as deeply inside as I could. She
grabbed the back of her head and shoved my mouth firmly against her
cunt, forcing me even further. Snaking it in and out, I made my
tongue thick and narrow, then flat and wide. I finally understood
Marilyn's remarks after she'd sucked me off. What I was experiencing
was more than the pleasure of giving pleasure. Sucking her off was
giving me incredibly pleasure. My cock was throbbing, well on the way
to another erection. She pressed me even harder, my nose bumping
against her flesh. A wiggle of her hips and she shuddered. I knew
exactly what she wanted. I shifted my head slightly, bringing my
tongue up to where my nose had been, finding the hard little knob. I
traced tiny circles around her clit, then gave it several flicks, the
lightest brushings, dancing the very tip of my tongue on its very tip.
I lapped at it broadly several times, then resumed the gentle rubs,
tickling it again, slow long languorous strokes followed by a flurry of
quick flits. Marilyn was squirming and squealing, gasping and
groaning, her fingers like iron bars pressing into my temples. I pursed
my lips around her clit and lashed at it with my tongue, reaching under
to grab the cheeks of her ass, squeezing them tight as I sucked on her
clit. I could feel muscles around me start to quake and quaver. She
clasped her hands roughly on the back of my head as she started to
climax, her mouth opened in a wide silent oval. I couldn't hear her
cries very well because right as she found her voice her thighs clamped
tight against my ears. True to her words, she came all over my face.
Her juices flooded my chin, trickling down my throat. The second her
legs relaxed their grip just the slightest, I nodded down to lap up all I
could. All her limbs grew limper and limper until she lay there like a
puddle of soft flesh. I was content to spend the rest of the day giving
her sex quiet little kisses and gentle lazy licks. But then I felt several
small muscles in her groin start to clutch, signaling a return to tension.
I was just as content to spend the rest of the day giving her sex all
the attention it might desire.
Instead, Marilyn hooked her hands under my arms, pulling me up on top
of her for a long sensuous cuddle, her lips in a series of open kisses
all over my face, her tongue licking the wetness from my skin while
giving it a new sheen. "I love tasting myself on you. I love thinking
about what you do to me. That was simply . . . _amazing_." Her eyes
took on a serious squint. "Are you sure you've never done that
before? Because I've sure never had that done to me like that before."
"No," I blushed back, "I, uh, I just thought of things, things you said,
you know, and things you did. I guess it was beginner's luck."
"Well, if you're that lucky in the beginning . . . hmmm?" Marilyn had
her hands held over my back, a few fingers dropped down drawing
invisible patterns on my skin. She was tracing maps of brand new
worlds. Uncharted, unvisited, and unknown. We would be the brave
explorers.
"And I doubt," I blurted out, "I doubt that anyone else could have
inspired me so much."
"I would very much like," Marilyn blinked, almost in tears, "to continue
being the source of your inspiration for a long, long time." The level
of emotional tension had soared so high I was dizzy, dizzy and scared.
Marilyn broke it with a wry little smile. "I can feel how _inspired_ you
are right now. Riddle riddle ree," she sang softly, "I feel something
you can't see." She sent a hand on a descriptive journey, "And it's
_so_ big, and _so_ hard, and _so_ beautiful, and I want it inside me _so
much_."
She guided me to the font of her wetness, holding me there until the
head of my cock had safely slipped inside. "Deep, deeper, deepest," she
coaxed me, "fill me up completely." I slid in to the hilt. "James?" she
asked.
"Yes?"
"I have but one request. I want you to fuck me, screw me, bang me,
ball me, hump me, ride me . . . whatever you want to do to me. My
pussy is here for _your_ pleasure. It feels _so-o_ good to have you
inside of me. I want it, I need it, and I love it. But, just so you don't
worry about it, I really never get off this way. So don't worry. I
want this for _you_. I mean, I want this for me," she giggled, "and I'll
enjoy every second of it, just, you know, don't worry about me.
Okay?"
"Okay," I nibbled the tip of her nose.
Marilyn locked her legs around my waist. "So, give me all you've got,
you big hot stud!"
Her cunt was exactly as she'd described it. Heaven-on-earth for any
cock. Marilyn lay back with a big smile, rocking me back and forth,
her vagina milking me with muscles I'd never suspected existed. What I
thought was, _hey, her clitoris is a bit up there, out of the line of
action_. I shifted a little ways upwards, sort of riding up on her. It
felt slightly different, but my cock was still having a good time.
Marilyn gave me a puzzled look, but then her eyes went big and round.
Her legs dropped and clenched tighter together, forcing me up further.
Her hands went to my ass, gripping it like a steering wheel. Marilyn
was definitely the driver now. It was hard to decide which of us was
more surprised when her orgasm hit. She wafted away on the
retreating waves, but eventually the tide turned and she came back
stronger, more determined than ever. "Go James, _go_. Do me baby,
_do me!_ God, you're going to make me come again. You and your big
cock, _god!_ Ohhhh, darling, ohhhhh sweet James, _come with me!_"
Marilyn twisted her hands through the labyrinth of our legs, one
cupping my balls from underneath while a finger of the other tickled my
anus, gently probing. This seemed terribly one-sided to me. I twisted
slightly, inserting a finger up inside her along with my cock. Marilyn
got a big smile that turned down to a whimper of disappointment when I
pulled it out. I moved my hand around and then, without so much as
an introduction, stuck the slickened finger up her ass. She gave a
great groan, squeezed my balls, and we exploded in unison.
Eventually I rolled off her, on my side by her side. Marilyn turned her
head towards me. We just smiled, motionless, staring at each other for
hours it seemed. She stirred first, stroking my face. "A pity we likely
won't get a chance like this again. Though," she reached down to
caress my tired penis, "if you happen to find yourself having a terribly
erotic dream tonight, you might want to wake up. It might be more
than a dream. And if it's not, just wake me up and I'll make it like
crazy. What I like best about your folks right now is how they're such
sound sleepers. And they snore, but in different timbres. Come on,"
she rolled away from me, standing up then pulling at me to follow, "let's
go for a swim. Since there's no shower aboard. Can't have the rest of
them coming back to find you stinking of the fact that you just
absolutely screwed my brains out. And me," she wrapped her arms
around me, "defiantly proud to smell of the first time in my life I've
been fucked brainless."
I pulled my shorts on, but she pushed them back off. "Suits, towels
and such go in this garbage bag, set atop this flotation ring." She
drew up close to me, giving her hips a shimmy. "I want us to swim
together naked."
The boat was anchored fairly close to shore. It was a short swim for
us to be within standing distance of a small crescent of natural beach.
We stood there in the wilds of waist deep water. I had one hand
playing idly between her legs while the other swayed back and forth
between her breasts. Marilyn got a very serious look on her face.
"You do realize, don't you, that I will have to have a talk with your
parents?" This was news to me. The sort of news that makes you
completely forget about what you were doing.
"Living," she continued, "in a big house all by myself. My own sons all
gone off to the world. And there I stay, the poor sad divorcée. With
no man around the house to take care of man-around-the-house sort of
things. Why, I bet I'll have enough chores to keep you busy every day
after school, and all day on the weekends. That is," she took a step
back, growing smaller, "if you can happen to have the time to help me."
"Marilyn," I closed the gap, "I will always," kissing her longly, "I will
_always_," slipping a finger between her legs, "I will always have time
for you."
That settled, she went up to lie on the beach while I splashed away in
the water. The next time I looked in shoreward she was gone, towel
and all. Next I turned was when I heard her calling my name, running
down from the brush line. I met her at the water's edge. "James," she
declared, "I have something I want to show you. You have to see this."
She grabbed my hand and I trailed after her. We dodged through the
brush, soon arriving at the loveliest little glade. The grass was the
plushest looking I'd ever seen. Her towel was spread out in the middle
of it.
"I thought," she looked up at me nearly quivering, "since we had to
swim back anyway. Maybe?"
My mouth went to hers and my hands swept to her breasts. Our knees
buckled us to the ground. The surprise that my cock was hard enough
again to slide up inside her was really no surprise, not given the
circumstances. We were, after all, two explorers, fresh off the boat,
committed to discovering new territories.
=========================
Like? Yes? No? Comments welcome: losgud@hotmail.com
=========================
I am archived at DejaNews under the "Author" name of
LUSHGOD@HOTNOMAIL.COM
--
+--------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `------------+
| story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us | story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us |
| Archive site +--------------------+------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ |
<http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/><http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/faq.html>