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From: apuleius@poboxes.com (Apuleius of Madaura)
Subject: RP: So Shy by Scott Sanders (mf rom 1st)
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This story is described as "lost" in Celeste's recent top story list, so I
thought it would be useful to repost it. It was indeed quite hard to find
(hidden in the Incoming directory of ASSTR). I have no idea what the
author's email address is, unfortunately.

- Apuleius

--------------------------------


Archive: So Shy (mf, teens)

                      S O   S H Y
                   By Scott Sanders

    Jenny Gallagher was painfully shy. She was the kind of girl you
could be in a class with all semester and never realize she was
there until the last day of class, when she tripped on a desk leg
or sneezed during the final. She was a nonentity at my high school.

   One day I decided to say something to her. I had literally never
seen a person even speak to her about anything. Even the teachers
seemed to sense that she was too shy to be called on during class,
and not one of them ever tried to draw her out that I could see.
Guys were not interested in Jenny, even though if you looked
carefully you could see that she probably had a decent body hidden
under those shapeless, frumpy dresses, and she certainly had a nice
face; when you could see it, that is, which was seldom. She usually
had it turned toward the ground, or buried in a book, or hiding
behind her long, dark black hair.

   She always ate lunch alone, sitting on the brick retaining wall
that surrounded the base of the flagpole. It was out of the way,
and there was only enough sitting space for two people, sitting
somewhat close. There was little chance of anyone sitting next to
her, so she was "safe" there. I don't know what made me want to
approach her: perhaps it was just curiosity, perhaps even a touch
of pity. It was just that I had begun to notice her more, sitting
in the back corner of my math class, hiding in the last clarinet
row in orchestra, and sitting on that obscure brick wall, and I
felt some strange desire to at least hear what her voice sounded
like.

   So at lunch time, I decided to join her on her wall.

   "Excuse, me. Is there anyone sitting there?" I said, having
stepped up quietly to a position directly in front of her.

   She jumped a little, and looked up from her sandwich, long locks
of her jet black hair sweeping into her eyes. She pulled the hair
away with a fingertip in a gesture that would have pushed gone
perfectly with pushing glasses up on her nose, if she wore them.
She said nothing.

   "Uh, can I sit there?" I pointed to the spot next to her on the
planter.

   She lowered her gaze again, and nodded, scooting to one side and
hunching her shoulders.

   We sat for several moments, munching our lunch, before I spoke.

   "So, I think we're in Mr. Hardy's math class together," I said.

   She nodded again, quickly, never looking up.

   "Yeah. So, anyway, did you understand that stuff today about
cross multiplying ratios?" I had understood it fairly well, but
perhaps a direct question might get her to speak.

   She shook her head.

   "Me neither. I'm just not that good at math." That was true
enough. She responded with silence.

   I suddenly felt like I was really bothering her, that I had
invaded someone's very private space, and I felt guilty. "Look," I
said, "I'm sorry if I bothered you. Really. I didn't mean to." I
got up to leave.

   I thought I heard her make some noise, like "Juh" behind me, and
I turned to look, but she was still staring down, still hunched
into a protective little ball. I left.

   I figured that would be it - she'd be terrified of me now, and
I'd never even hear her speak. But the next day I caught her
looking at me in math class, and then again across the lunch quad
as she sat on her wall and I stood in the lunch line. Her look told
me nothing, really, just sort of a blankish stare that ended as
soon as she realized I was looking back. But the mere fact that she
was looking was significant, given that I'd never seen her look at
anyone before.

   So I thought I'd try again.

   The next day at lunch, I approached her retaining wall again.
She seemed subtley different somehow, but I could not put my finger
on it at first. At first, I made no move to sit with her, but stood
nearby, looking at the tree that stood next to the flagpole.

   Finally, I spoke: "Hi Jenny." I did not turn to look, figuring
that she'd have to say something to such a casual greeting, that
she should not be so rude as to just ignore me.

   "Hi," she said after a moment, her voice very small but notably
soft and lovely.

   Surprised at finally hearing her voice, I turned to look at her,
then realized what the change was that I had sensed. Her hair,
which was usually hanging straight in front of her face, had
obviously had some attention. It looked clean and soft, curving
away from her face in a gentle wave. I'd never seen evidence that
she'd paid attention to her hair before; now she'd obviously done
something to it. For me?

   "Uh, do you mind if I share the wall with you again? I promise
to keep quiet," I said. She looked up at me, our eyes meeting
briefly, a blaze of brilliant green flashing in hers. I smiled,
trying to look harmless, and she nodded, looking back down to her
food.

   We ate in silence for what felt like an hour, but was certainly
no more than 10 minutes. I tried to concentrate on my food, but I
also noticed that she smelled very nice, like a lemon grove or a
tea shop, as though she had put on some kind of old fashioned
perfume. There was a decided tension between us, but I could not
identify it.

   I was surprised when she was the first to speak, or almost
speak.

   "I-I-I," she began, then gulped her breath, "d-d-dont m-m-m-ind
if you, tuh-tuh-tuh.... tuh...." Her face grimaced as I looked at
her, obviously struggling to speak, but determined. "Tuh-tuh talk."

   I stared at her, perhaps a bit too long, and she looked
mortified. I had heard her secret - she was a stutterer, and pretty
severe one. It took me a moment to realize that my stare was
telling her I was disgusted by her problem, and as she began to
rise, to run away, I tried quickly to explain.

   "W-Wait," I said, my old stutter returning. "I
underst-st-stand..."

   She turned to look back at me, rage and disappointment in her
eyes, then began to walk away quickly. She thought I was mocking
her, of course. How could I explain? The tension of the moment had
brought back the old monster, the stutter that had plagued me when
I was in grade school. I had to tell her, or she'd think I was an
asshole, like so many who had probably made fun of her throughout
her life, and somehow that seemed like the worst thing that could
happen.

   I ran after her, trying to tell her that I was not making fun of
her, but the more I tried to speak, concentrating on not
stuttering, naturally the more I stuttered. That's how it works.
She escaped in the girls bathroom and would not emerge. I felt
horrible.

   For the next week I tried in vain to talk to her. Her radar was
up for me, and whenever I'd approach her wall, or walk up next to
her after math, she'd slink away. Her hair was back to a stringy
mop, and she was dressing in even more somber clothing than usual.
Finally, frustrated and angry at myself, I had the presence of mind
to write her a note and slip in into her locker.

   "Dear Jenny, I know it must seem to you that I am making fun of
your speech problem, but please believe me that I am not. I use to
stutter very badly, and was only able to get over it through a lot
of speech therapy. When I realized the other day that you thought
I was making fun of you my stutter came back with a vengeance, I
guess because I wanted too much not to stutter. I'm sure you
understand what that's like. I think you're a nice person and I did
not want you to think I was disgusted or amused by your problem.
I'm not. I'm like you.                      Scott"

   I slipped the note through the crack in her locker door, and the
next day I sat on that retaining wall, getting there early, making
sure I got there before her.

   She did not show up until well into the lunch hour, and I began
to think that she had not believed my note. What more could I do?
My folks had noticed that my stutter was back, though only mildly.
I felt if I could not resolve this problem with Jenny, however,
that it might come back completely, and the thought of fighting
with my mouth every time I wanted to speak, again, was horrible to
me.

   But she finally did show up. She'd done her hair again, and she
was wearing jeans and a light green T-shirt. She had something of
a smile on her face, just the barest hint of turning at the corners
of her mouth, but for her this was a major event. She'd believed
me. What a relief. She approached the wall, then stopped a pace
away and stood silent for a moment.

   Finally, she drew in her breath, and said: "Do you m-m-m-m-mind
if I s-s-s-s-sit huh... huh.... sit here t-t-t-too?"

   "Sure," I said, amazed at her determination. I knew how tough it
was for her to do that. Stutterers would rather be alone than face
any confrontation that might force them to speak. She'd done a very
difficult thing.

   We sat for a moment, looking at, then not looking at each other.
I took the chance to really see her - she was beautiful. I could
not understand how I had not seen it before, even though she
usually hid behind baggy clothes and dirty hair. Her face was
bright and lovely, reminding me a little of Jodie Foster, and her
body, finally discernable in her T-shirt and jeans, was shapely and
firm. I took her in, feeling the beginnings of attraction.

   "I'm really sorry about last time," I said. "I didn't mean to
make you feel like that. Sometimes it's so h-h-h-hard to make my
mouth work right, especially when..."

   But she held up a hand to cut me off. "I kn-kn-know. Really."
She smiled a little broader and handed me a note, then blushed
deeply and turned away:

   "I of all people should have understood what was happening to
you. I get so defensive some times that I forget to think. Please
forgive me for being so rude to you."

   Not exactly a love note, but it touched me nonetheless. I folded
it carefully and put it in my pocket. She turned at the sound of
the folding paper, and looked stunned that I was keeping it.

   "That's OK. It was just a misunderstanding."  I smiled, and she
smiled back, a little. I was struck suddenly by how the green in
her eyes was made even more brilliant by the shirt she was wearing.

   Maybe I could help her. "Look, " I said, being careful not to
sound patronizing, "I've been through this. Maybe I can help you."

   She shook her head. "T-t-t-tried bef-f-f-fore. Nobody
c-c-c-c-can stop this st-st-st-st-stupid thing." She looked
dejected.

   "That's what I thought, but I was wrong. What have you got to
lose?"

   She looked at me, a strength and coldness to her gaze. I knew
what she had to lose. Every time you tried to get rid of the
stutter and failed, it got worse. The guilt, the anger, the
frustration, all came out in those rapid-fire syllables.

   We sat silently for a while, munching our sandwiches and
thinking. After a while, she stood. "Okk-k-k-k-k-kay, Scott. I'll
t-t-t-try, but..."

   But you'd better not let me down, her eyes said. "I'll do my
best," I said, feeling like I was making a big mistake.

   For the next three weeks we met every lunch at the wall. I tried
everything I knew; saying the words in reverse order, translating
them to another language and back in your mind before speaking (she
knew German), reading nonsense poetry, vowel sounding, and dozens
of other tricks and techniques that she'd probably seen before.
Throughout it all she was patient and cooperative, but got nowhere.
There was no question that we were becoming close friends during
all of this, and perhaps more. But I could not seem to help her.

   At the end of all that I was pretty frustrated with myself. I
felt that I had let her down and told her so.

   She shook her head, smiling a smile that had never seen the
light of day before, that I knew of. A broad, real, unreserved
smile. "N-n-no, Scott. N-n-n-n-not your fuh fuh fault.
N-ni-ni-n-n.... sweet of y-y-y-ou to t-t-t-t-try."

   Something happened then. Her sweet face, that real smile, the
way her lovely hair framed her face, the subtle curve of her,
something propelled me. Had I stopped to think I would never have
kissed her, but I did not stop. I leaned forward and kissed her,
gently, on her soft cheek. I heard her breath catch in her throat,
but she did not pull away for the first second. When she did pull
away, there was only surprise on her face.

   She blushed again, and looked down at her lap.

   "I couldn't stop my self, Jenny." I said, quietly.

   "Wuh wuh why?" she said, and I could tell she was crying. I only
hoped they were not tears of sadness.

   "I th-th-th-think you know why." Ah, my stutter again. She
looked up at hearing it, her eyes glistening. I still could not
tell what her tears meant.

   "Maybe," she said. "I g-g-guess so."

   I took her hand, and she did not pull away. When I stood,
pulling her gently, she followed. We walked around the gym, to the
horticulture projects, around the fences and inside. The fruit
trees were blooming and the smell reminded me of her perfume, which
she was wearing again. We finally reached the end of the rows,
where a small bench was, and we sat facing each other.

   "Will you go out with me, Jenny?" I still held her hand in mine,
and stroked the back of it with the fingers of my other hand. She
could not tear her gaze away from our hands.

   "I d-d-d-d-don't underst-st-stand this." Her voice was choked.

   "If you're not interested in me, just say so...."

   She looked up at me and shook her head emphatically. "It's
n-n-n-ot that."

   "Then say you'll go out with me." I tried to keep my voice even
and calm, but I really wanted to kiss her again and the strain was
palpable.

   She was quiet for about a thousand years. But she finally nodded
and said "Ok."

   We went to a movie - some Mel Brooks film - and I heard her
laugh, which was like music. I was too tense to enjoy much of the
film, but I enjoyed her, just being there with her. I knew I was in
love.

   After the film we got some food at a hamburger place and drove
up to the christmas tree farm to eat it. The tree farm is one of my
favorite places, mostly because the other kids don't know about it
and it is so much like a forest. Jenny liked it too, and sat
staring at the trees and each other as we ate our burgers and drank
our malts.

   Once we had eaten, and the wrappers were all tossed into the
back seat, the tension began to grow. We had no more distractions.
It felt like a moment of truth. All during the meal I felt that
something had changed in her, or at least between us. She was
looking at me much more directly than ever before, and most of her
apprehension was nowhere to be seen.

   "Jenny," I said, feeling my stutter returning. "I'd like to
k-k-kiss you, but I d-d-d-don't want to if you don't w-w-w-want me
to."

   She looked down at her lap, her hands there folding and
unfolding, a smile on her face. It took her while to speak, but she
did, it was wonderful. "I w-w-ant to k-k-kiss you too."

   I lifted her chin gently, and pressed my lips to hers. The kiss
was long and sweet, and it was followed by another and another. We
turned our heads slowly as we kissed, and when I broke away to kiss
her cheeks I heard her breath coming quick and shallow and felt the
tears on her face with my lips.

   "Why are you crying?" I asked, whispering in her ear.

   "H-h-h-happy," she said, hugging me tightly.

   We kissed again, and this time I brushed my tongue against her
lips. At first, she did not respond, but kept kissing me. Then on
the third try she parted her lips and took my tongue in her mouth.
My tongue found hers, and as they danced I heard her sigh and felt
her breasts pressing into my chest.

   When finally we broke the kiss and I started to nibble the nape
of her neck, she began to sigh and moan. I ventured, tentatively,
to put my hand on her breast, through the thin material of her
blouse, and though I felt her start a bit, she did not push the
hand away. I began to squeeze and knead her breast gently,
lovingly, feeling at first the lace of her bra and then her rising
nipple in my palm.

   Her shoulder tensed at my touch, and her breath began coming in
quick little hitches. She was afraid, but her nipple was standing
firm, and she was hugging me to her even more tightly.

   My cock was raging, of course, hard as a post and straining
against my pants. I brought my other hand up and began squeezing
and rubbing both of her beautiful tits, feeling both nipples hard
and erect. She was rotating her shoulders ever so slightly,
responding to my caress. I was not sure how far this was going to
go, but I was in heaven.

   "Scott," she sighed in my ear, "Oh, Scott, oh I just... oh, oh
I've never felt like this..."

   I stopped and pulled away, both hands motionless on her breasts.
I looked her straight in the eye and smiled.

   "W-w-what?" she said, her eyes puzzled.

   "You didn't stutter."

   "Huh?"

   "You didn't stutter, just then, when you said you'd never felt
like this."

   She looked down at my hands on her breasts, then smiled, then
looked back to me and covered her mouth with her hand as she
laughed, a sweet, high laugh. "You m-m-m-mean all I n-n-n-needed
wuh-wuh-was..." We both laughed.

   "And to think I went through three years of speech therapy," I
said, and she howled, holding her stomach. We laughed together for
several minutes, stopping and starting again whenever we'd look at
each other.

   My hands had drifted away from her, and as the laughter died
away, I drew her to me, kissing her deeply, and placing my hands
back on her tits. I felt her hands come up to mine, and I thought
she was going to push them away, that she'd gone as far as she
could in one night, and I was prepared to say I understood, that we
could go slow. But instead I felt her fingers unbuttoning her
blouse, and my heart raced.

   There is nothing quite so sexy as a woman voluntarily taking off
her clothes, without being asked. She unbuttoned the blouse and
drew it down off her shoulders, letting it pile up around her
waist. Now I was kneading her through her bra only, and as I looked
down I realized just how beautiful a body she had. Her skin was so
smooth and perfect, and her tits crested deliciously in her bra,
the lacy edges drawing the eye to her cleavage. The bra was front
clasping, and I moved my fingers to the snap.

   "OK?" I asked, fingers gripping the plastic clasp.

   "OK," she said.

   It took three tries to get the clasp undone with one hand - I
was too nervous and too worried about her reaction. But finally the
lacy material parted and her sweet breasts were bared to the night.
In the moonlight the white flesh of her chest looked slightly blue,
and her pink nipples looked dark red. My eyes crept up from staring
at her tits, up along her neck and shoulders, then finally to her
face. Her expression was so fearful that at once I felt pretty
guilty at having let things get this far. Here was a girl who had
probably never even held hands with a boy before, let alone kissed
one. And here she was, stripped to the waist.

   "Jenny," I began, "If this is too much..."

   She smiled, very nervously but it was a genuine smile. "No. It's
Ok-k-k-kay."

   With my eyes still raised to watch her expression, I leaned
forward and took a nipple gently into my mouth. Her smile faded and
she closed her eyes as I began to suck and lick her areolae. I felt
her hand on the back of my head, and she started holding my face to
her tit as she bit her lower lip and arched her back. I had tapped
something in her, something that had been lying dormant for her
whole life.

   I brought my left hand up to massage the other nipple, then
switched my mouth to that side and brought my right hand up. Back
and forth, back and forth, I suck and licked both her nipples until
they were so erect that virtually all the flesh of each areolae had
been drawn up into the erect little peaks that her nipples had
become.

   Slowly, experimentally, I began to draw my free hand up her leg,
just to her knee at first. Again I was unsure how far I should take
this girl, on her very first night of love, but part of me was
obsessed with her body, which was proving to be impressive. I
wanted to see and touch her pussy, even though I knew fucking was
almost certainly out of the question. And more than that, I wanted
to give her an orgasm. I felt sure it would be her first.

   "Jenny," I said between sucks of her left nipple. "Tell me... if
you want me... to stop." I looked up at her face, which was flushed
and showed such complete concentration on the sensations she was
experiencing that at first I wondered if she had heard me. So I
moved my hand slightly farther up her leg, and let my fingers slide
in between her thighs. Her eyes popped open and she bit her lip
again. I pulled my face away and froze.

   We sat like that for what felt like hours, but was certainly no
more than a minute. Had I gone too far? Would she feel I was taking
advantage of her? Was I? The expression on her face told me nothing
except that she was thinking intensely.

   Suddenly, and without warning, she closed her eyes again and I
felt her legs parting. Her butt slid forward as her thighs
separated, and her back slid down the car seat until her dress was
hitched up to mid-thigh.

   I barely heard her say "gently" as her I felt the material of
her panties barely come to rest under my fingertips.

   Gently. Gently I began to stroke her pussy through her panties.
With my other hand I slowly pulled her dress the rest of the way
up, so I could see what awaited me. Her panties were of the simple
white cotton variety, cut like bikini bottoms, and they felt quite
wet to my touch. I put my free hand back on her breasts and
continued to massage and squeeze her chest as my fingers gently
explored her pussy through her panties.

   After a while, her breath coming very fast now and my erection
threatening to burst my zipper, I brought both hands to the
waistband of her panties, grasped it, and began to lower them. She
brought her hands up, one covering her eyes and one resting on her
chest, as though she was feeling her heartbeat, and I heard a
little "ooooh" escape her throat as she lifted her ass to help me
remove her panties. My eyes locked onto her pussy as the covering
slid away. Her nether hair was lovely, a perfect little triangle of
black, downy curls.

   I set her panties on the driver's seat, which I was leaving. We
had pushed the seats back all the way when we had parked, which
left me plenty of room to kneel on the floor in front of her. Her
eyes were still tightly closed, but her hands were on my shoulders
now, touching me lightly as though the mere contact gave her some
kind of courage. I began to stroke her thighs and pussy hair
lightly with my fingertips, pressing gently now and then to get her
legs to spread wider. Finally I could see her pink pussy lips, and
the little bud of her clitoris peaking out. I planted a gentle kiss
on her pussy hair, smelling her musk and feeling the tiny drops of
dew against my lips, then looked up and saw a nervous but genuine
smile spread across her lips.

   The smile turned serious as I lowered my tongue into her pussy
folds. At first I let my tongue bathe the lips of her cunt, no
penetration, just running back and forth, up and down over the
general area, stroking her clit lightly now and then, almost by
accident. Her breath was quickening again, so I pressed the
advantage and began to search for her little hole with the tip of
my tongue. Having found it with little effort, I began little
playful stabs into her, no more than the tip of my tongue entering
her pussy, followed by short, firm flicks on her clit.

   Soon she was making little sounds in her throat with each
exhale, and I knew she was close to coming. I began to set up a
very regular rhythm, licking and sucking her clit and letting my
tongue dart in and out of her hole. Soon I felt her ass tighten in
my hands, and she lifted in slightly in the air as her hips, legs,
and thighs began to quiver. Then she came in a long, hot flood, her
pussy juices gushing into my mouth, the taste of her like warm
honey.

   She said nothing, but made only these high whimpering noises,
biting her lip and breathing through her nose. Suddenly her eyes
popped open and she looked down at me, our eyes meeting, as her
final spasm ended. A tear escaped her eye, followed by many others,
and she gazed at me with a look of total love.

   She was tugging on my shoulders, wanting a hug, and I slid up to
wrap one arm around her and kiss her face and neck. The other hand
I left stroking her pussy, bringing her down slowly from the peak
of her orgasm. Now and then her breath hitched again, but soon she
was calm and I wrapped both arms around her and hugged her tightly.

   "I love you," she said, after we had hugged together for some
time.

   "I love you too," I said, and I meant it. By cock was still
raging, but I knew the feelings I had for her were more than lust
- I wanted some relief, but I did not want our hug to end.

   She felt my hardness against her as we hugged, especially since
her legs were still spread and my groin was pressed against her
bare pussy. "I w-w-w-ant to do something f-f-f-for you," she said
into my ear.

   "You do?" I was amazed that she was ready to go farther.

   "Yes. That was s-s-so b-b-beautiful... and I w-want to g-g-give
you a-a-a..."

   "An orgasm."

   She blushed a little. "Yes."

   I moved back to the drivers seat, smiling at her, and sat back,
drawing my hard cock out of my pants. My cock, erect, is only above
average, about 8 inches long and fairly thick, but to her eyes this
was obviously much bigger than she expected. Her eyes opened wide
as I pulled my pants down to my knees and allowed my hard dick to
stand proud in the night air. "This is for you," I said.

   "W-w-w-hat do I d-d-do?" she asked, her voice a whisper.

   "You can do one or all of three things," I began, feeling like
I was giving some kind of lecture. "You can jack me off with your
hand, you can suck be off with your mouth, or we can go all the
way: you can take me inside you."

   Her eyes darted back to mine, a bit frightened. "I d-d-d-on't
know if I'm r-r-r-ready to g-g-g-go all the w-w-w-ay yet..."

   "That's OK with me." It was too. I was shocked that I'd gotten
this far with such an inexperienced, shy girl. I guessed I'd tapped
some kind of hidden passion in her.

   "W-w-which is b-b-better for you?" she asked, obviously
referring to her hand or her mouth.

   "How about first one, then the other?" I smiled, and she smiled
nervously back. She slid a little closer and reached out with her
hand to grasp my dick. As her fingers wrapped around the hard shaft
I heard her gasp.

   "S-s-so warm and h-h-ard," she said. Her hand closed into a
gentle fist, and I showed her how to jack slowly up and down the
shaft. The feeling was wonderful as my skin slid up and down in her
fist. Soon a drop of pre-cum fluid seeped out over her knuckle and
she looked at me, a question in her eyes.

   "That's all right. It just means I'm getting there."

   "Sh-sh-should I take it in my mouth now?"

   "Please," I said, chuckly warmly, I guided her to kneel between
my legs as I took my pants off completely. "Start by licking up and
down the underside, then take the head into your mouth. Make sure
to cover your teeth with your lips, and concentrate your tongue on
this spot..." I pressed her index finger on my glans. "That's like
your little clit..."

   She leaned forward and began to lick my cock with her hot
tongue. The moonlight coming through the windshield illuminated her
with a ghostly light, so sexy as she ran her lips and tongue all
over my dick. After a few strokes she took the head of my cock
between her lips and began to suck gently, her tongue dancing over
my glans.

   Her face was rapt, showing such keen concentration as she licked
and sucked my cock. After each few sucking strokes she would slide
my dick out of her mouth and bathe the head and glans with long,
wet licks. Each time she did this her head would twist back and
forth more and more violently and she would lick and suck faster.
She was obviously getting caught up in the passion of the blowjob,
which made the whole thing so much better for me. Her long hair had
covered my thighs and scrotum, and as her head bobbed up and down
I could feel her locks tickling my balls. The sensation, combined
with her sucking mouth and warm licking tongue drove me to the
brink.

   I could feel the come rising from the base of my shaft and I
warmed her: "I'm going to come... swallow it if you can..."

   Her next stroke was the deepest, taking me 3/4 of the way down,
or even a bit more, and I exploded into her warm mouth. The first
two spurts shot straight down her throat, till she gaged slightly
and withdrew almost all the way, leaving just the head in her
mouth. Spurt after spurt of hot sperm landed on her tongue and
filled her mouth after that. She swallowed three times before I was
done.

   She sucked my deflating cock clean, which made it take quite a
bit longer to deflate, then slid up and I had and hugged me
tightly. "Thank you," I whispered in her ear.

   "It w-w-w-was OK?" she asked, whispering back.

   "Oh yes, it was fantastic," I said, hugging her tightly and
feeling her breasts pressed against my chest.

   She was silent for a while, and our breathing patterns
synchronized, the way they will she you lie next to someone. After
a while the hypnotic feeling of our bodies moving together almost
lulled me to sleep when she said:

   "C-c-can you d-d-do it again?"

   "You mean, can I get hard again?"

   "Yes."

   I answered her by placing her hand on my rising cock - the mere
question had caused old' johnson to perk up. She fell to her knees
again, my cock growing in her two-handed grip, and began to lick
the tip as the shaft expanded to its full size.

   She licked and sucked again for a while, then pulled away, her
face flushed and little beads of sweat on her bangs, and looked me
in the eye. "W-w-will in h-h-urt if we try to.... to p-p-put it in
me?"

   I certainly was not going to lie to her. "Yes, at first. A
girl's first time always hurts a bit. But if we are careful and we
go slow... we can... you know..."

   "F-f-f-fuck?" She smiled, and I smiled back.

   I think I gained another inch hearing her say that word. "Yes.
We can fuck."

   "I w-w-want to fuck w-w-with you. Or at l-l-least t-t-try to."

   My cock fairly inhaled at that, expanding in her tight grip so
much that she giggled and sucked it again.

   I unbuttoned my shirt and motioned her to slide up and straddle
me. As she did, my cock ended up pointing toward my belly, the
entire underside coming in contact with her warm, wet pussy lips.
She leaned against me, her breasts crushed against my chest and her
mouth kissing my neck as I gripped her hips and began rubbing her
pussy up and down against the underside of my cock. Immediately I
felt my shaft slide between her lips, so that on each stroke my
glans were rubbing her clit. She began to sigh and moan as her clit
swelled and the strokes became harder. I felt her knees pressing in
against my hips as she neared orgasm, and soon her pussy was moving
without my help.

   "Ah... ah... ah... oh Scott it's... oh I love... ah... oh...
uh...." she moaned breathlessly. Then all at once I felt her tense,
and the warm flood of her come drenching my cock. Her sliding
action increased until I felt the head of my cock slip into her
pussy hole.

   She froze, my dickhead just inside her warm cunt.

   "God. God, your IN me, aren't you?" Her voice was full of wonder
and lust.

   "Yes, just the head. I'm inside you. How does it feel?"

   "Oh, it feels so..." Then she slid down a fraction, slipping a
half an inch or so down the shaft. "Uh..." she grunted low in her
throat. "It's tight, but you feel so good."

   "I hate to bring this up now," I said, smiling, "but your
stutter is gone again."

   She smiled broadly at this, and I smiled back, gripped her hips,
and slid her down another full inch. She bit her lip, but kept on
smiling. I could feel the head of my cock pressing again her hymen
now. It was like a thread or a string stretched across her opening.

   She drew herself up, then down, then up and down, sliding that
first inch in and out of her, her eyes closed and her mouth in that
half smile. After a dozen strokes I felt that the hymen was gone!
It had broken, and she seemed not to feel a thing.

   I gripped her hips again and began to slide her down a bit
further on each stroke. The feeling of her pussy walls wrapped
around my cock was unbelievable. I had fucked two girls before her,
but her pussy was by far the tightest, smoothest, warmest thing my
cock had ever been in. Now that her hymen was broken she did not
seem to feel much pain.

   I took a nipple in my mouth and began sucking as I pressed my
cock deeper and deeper into her pussy on each stroke. Her face was
back to that same lustful concentration, and soon I was balls-deep
in her. She bent down to kiss me and I massaged both her tits with
my hands as she came again, her tongue deep in my mouth and a high
whimper in her throat.

   I felt my come rising again, this time slowly but with great
power. "I can't... uh... come inside you... uh... Jenny... no...
protection...."

   Quickly she withdrew my cock from her pussy, slid her body down
mine and took me back in her mouth, where I came like a garden
hose. My sperm poured into her, leaking out the corners of her
mouth and dripping on my legs. She eagerly licked it from them,
then came back up to straddle me and hug me.

   "Y-y-yours forever," she whispered into my ear, her spread pussy
rubbing against my cock and her nipples pressed into mine. I really
HAD tapped some secret wellspring of lust and love in this shy
girl.

   "Forever," I agreed.

   Since that time Jenny and I have been together. I am sure
marriage is in our future, and her stutter is really coming along
now. Especially since we found such a perfect therapy. We still
like to do it at the christmas tree farm, but we have also gotten
rather adventurous, fucking during school in various secret
locations.

   But that, as they say, is another story... 


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