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From: "marky92" <marky92@hotmail.com>
Subject: RP{marky}"Finally Claire"(MF, rom, 1st)
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**Disclaimer (Robert De Niro gangster voice)
What d'you means you ain't old enough to read this? If you ain't old
enough, then why you reading it? You stoopid fuck. Let me explain
something to you. Are you listening to me? I'm trying to explain
something. In whatever country you happen to be, there's a law
telling you how old you have to be to read something which contains
graphic depiction's of sexual activities. You might be old enough to
do it, but that ain't necessarily old enough to read about it.
Besides, sex is nasty, horrible and dirty. If you go reading shit
like this, you'll end up like me, sad and depraved. So if you ain't
old enough, go and do something healthy, like playing "Quake".
What? Now you saying you are old enough, but that this sort of thing
offends you. Then stop reading now! Stoopid fuck. Go on! Fuck off.
Let us pervs have our fun. Go and read a 'mills and boon' novel or
something.
Revision 1.2
Original posted in October 1998
Comments can be sent to either of these
two addresses
kce63@dial.pipex.com
marky92@hotmail.com
**Special note
I'm English not American, but still, with the bombardment of American
images that we receive in this country on TV and in films, I get
confused from time to time. It's not my fault, blame the media!!!
<------------------------------------------------------------------->
Finally Claire
by marky
(c) Copyright 1998 marky
This story is kind of a fantasy. Although the main characters are
real, only part of this story is true. Up to a certain point the
events did take place, but after that, they only happened in my
dreams. Wet dreams. I could tell you, dear reader, at which point
reality ends and fantasy starts, but that would be no fun, and make
me look even more sad than I already am. It's left to you to decide
where the change occurs.....
You see it's been five years since I left sixth form having completed
my 'A levels'. About time for a reunion you might think. Not a
chance. I'm only in contact with one person from my time in sixth
form. It did get me thinking however. Most of the people from that
time of my life I don't particularly care to see again, but there are
one or two....
(Fuzzy Vision - cheap TV trick to indicate a memory coming on....)
(Screen wobbles.... wobble, wobble)
We'd been at the same school for five and a half years before I first
noticed Claire. She'd been on the opposite side of the timetable to
me for the first three years, and when we finally shared a couple of
classes the lines of friendship groups had already been drawn. If we
exchanged two words with each other that would have been a major
conversation. When I started going out with one of her friends,
Claire became one of the many girls my new girlfriend was talkative
with, but basically just a face in the crowd. A cute face, but just
one of the crowd.
I heard all the rumors. All the talk of the huge number of guys that
had asked Claire out and been rejected. She said "NO" to everyone.
Even the really popular guys got knocked back by Claire. I heard the
stories, but couldn't put a face to the name.
I first took any real notice of Claire just after Christmas in the
first year of sixth form. I was seventeen, and had just broken up
with my then girlfriend (who is the one person I am still in contact
with now, go figure), and I had taken it really hard. I say 'just
broken up with' but it had been three or four months, more accurately
I'd just about gotten over her. I was just about ready to admit that
maybe girls were worth all the hassle and hurt after all.
The school management had organized a group photo for the whole of
years 12 and 13, and there we were in the school hall, all lined up
for the shoot. The tall ones stood at the back, the mid-size ones in
the middle, and the short munchkins sat on chairs at the front. The
photographer announced that there was a problem with the camera he
had set up for the group shot, but the cameras for the individual
photos were working fine, so if the first row go and line up on the
far side of the hall he would be very appreciative.
The front row, which was made up of all girls, stood up in unison and
trooped over to the cameras in single file. The tallest guy in the
class, stood on the back row, called out "Hi, Ho." His intent was to
signify the lack of height of the girls, and it raised a chuckle from
most of the assembled masses. I've always been sensitive about my
height, being a short arse myself, so while it was funny at the time,
I did sympathize with the poor girls now being ridiculed. I knew
most of them pretty well, but I noticed Claire more than any of the
others.
I recognized her as being in my maths class, and tried to place where
she sat in relation to me. Even though the maths class was small,
only about 10 students, there was a group of us in the same class for
all subjects, and we tended to stick together. Couple this with the
fact that Claire also had her little group of friends in the class,
and she came across as quite shy and quiet, and it is easy to see why
I hadn't really taken much notice of her before. Looking at her now
I couldn't understand why I hadn't noticed her, she was gorgeous.
She had an indefinable quality, something I couldn't put my finger
on.
Over the next few weeks I started to talk to Claire on occasions. I
had the perfect way in, we were both in the same maths class, and so
had the same homework to do.
Now phrases like, "Have you done you homework?" or "Could you answer
question 2, 'cause I thought it was hard?" are not generally
considered to be chat up lines. Certainly no girl would guess you
had an interest in them if that was how all your conversations
started. But that was how most of my conversations with Claire did
start. It would get us talking about work, and then lead to other
topics. We spent many hours in the library during free periods
talking about nonsense or, just sometimes, actually doing work
together. Well I say doing work together, it was mostly me doing the
work and Claire saying things like, "Oh yeah, I get it. What answer
did you get again? That's what I got too." She was basically
copying my work, but I didn't mind. It pleased me just to have the
pleasure of being around this lovely creature, and she was happy to
have more time to spend on her art.
I must admit that what first drew me to her, drew most men to her,
was her looks. She had the silkiest black hair, which frequently
changed style. Deep blue eyes that she tried to hide either with
make up or simply by not looking directly at people. She was on the
short side, and wasn't particularly well endowed in the chest region
either, but she had the cutest face, no, cute is not the right word.
She was just really pretty. And she carried herself in a way that
just added to her appeal. I can't think of any appropriate words to
describe it, maybe there aren't any. Her shyness definitely added to
the whole image. There was a gothic air of mystery about her. She
acted closed off, hard to reach, and there is just something about
that that I, and many others, found sexy. She also dressed really
well. At our school the sixth form didn't have a uniform, but an
"agreed standard of dress" instead. This meant that we were supposed
to wear office type clothing , within the colour scheme of white,
gray and burgundy. The guys didn't have much choice in what to wear,
gray suit, white shirt and tie. The girls however could get away
with most things. Skirts were either burgundy or gray, and varied in
length from "down by the ankles" to "all up her arse". Claire's
choice of style was understated. She wore a dark gray, mid-length
skirt, white blouse and dark gray cardigan. It doesn't sound all
that special, and some might wonder why I bothered with the
description, but you must understand that everything about Claire,
when taken alone, seemed ordinary, but she put them all together in a
way..... I just can't do justice to the aura she projected with
words. She couldn't be described as anyone's dream girl, but
everyone who met her, wanted her.
Time wore on and I found myself becoming quite good friends with
Claire. We even began to flirt a little. She didn't think anything
of it because I flirted with most of the girls I knew anyway, but I
was more attracted to Claire than to any other women in my short
life. The problem was that I was going through a period of major
self doubt. I had no confidence in myself, or my abilities. And I
certainly didn't consider myself attractive to the opposite sex.
Sure I flirted with just about all the girls, but it was an act, a
way of defending myself.
Claire and I began to find more things in common than just maths
homework. We played pool in the social area, talked about politics
in the library. She began to show something of herself to me, and I
liked what I saw.
In free periods we knew where to find each other, at a table in the
children's corner of the library. We were hardly ever alone there,
there was always someone else doing work at the table or relaxing in
the comfy chairs with a newspaper. I would always try and be first
to the library, and first to get hold of the paper.
Like most people I hated for people to read over my shoulder, but I
would always share the paper with Claire if she wanted it. It meant
that we had to get close to each other, into each others "Space". If
I was at the table she would come up behind me, one hand on the back
of my chair, the other on the table as she leant over me. If I was
on one of the low comfy chairs she would kneel down beside me.
Whichever it was she was as close to me as we ever got. I could
smell her, the heady mix of her own scent and the perfume she wore,
and it drove me wild. But all the time I kept a cool exterior,
keeping my desire hidden.
About halfway through that first year of A levels the friendship
groups began to shift. I found myself pulled into a group that
included Claire, and my ex-girlfriend. She had got a new boyfriend,
which made things awkward, but we both got past that. (These days my
ex, Tracey, is one of my best friends. I don't know what I'd do
without her sometimes.) As a group we began going out, to the cinema
and to nightclubs. Claire and I began to flirt more and more, and it
became obvious to some that I fancied her rotten. But with my
confidence as low as it was, I was convinced that there was no-way
she could ever fancy me back. I never even considered asking her out
on a date alone. And as long as we were going out in a group,
nothing was going to happen between us.
So I contented myself with the relationship we had. Homework
sessions in free periods became regular, to the extent that we were
joined by several others in the class. We played badminton together
in sports class, and formed quite a deadly partnership. And of
course we would still play pool. With each activity there was some
way that we found to flirt. If we arrived at school early to play
pool I would try and give her hints on the best shot, or step up
close behind her to help her line up the shot. While on the
badminton court we would slap each other on the behind after winning
a good point, and homework was filled with innuendo.
But I knew I couldn't ask her out. Several of the more popular guys
in sixth form asked Claire out, and she turned all of them down. Was
there any reason she wouldn't turn me down? After all, surely they
were better catches than me, and she wasn't interested in them. That
was the way things stayed for the rest of that first year.
Summer rolled around and I took a long holiday with the family. We
cruised down the Rhine in Germany, sampling all the Rhine valley had
to offer, especially the wine. I spent most of my time on deck
sunning myself and reading all the Terry Pratchett books I had
missed. It was incredibly relaxing, and just what I needed to get
some confidence back. I went back to school a changed man.
That was good, because now we were the seniors in the sixth form.
The top year in the school, a role model for the rest. A new
headmaster had taken over the school, and there was a different
atmosphere there. I also found my confidence boosted by the news
that there were a crop of girls lower down the school who had the
hots for me. So what if they were four years younger than me, at
least someone found me attractive.
It was about that time that the staff started to push us into
applying for a university place. They did everything they could to
try and convince us. One thing they did was organize a trip to the
local university in Birmingham for one of the open days. I only
mention this because it was on the way back from this trip that I
first realized Claire might like me as much as I liked her.
The trip left early in the morning, and we spent the whole day on
campus, checking out the various departments and facilities. I spent
most of the day with a group of lads who were interested in doing the
same degree as me, either maths or physics. I didn't see Claire
except for lunch, when most of our group got back together in the
Student Union building. By the time we got back on the coach I was
really tired, so found a seat on my own, and settled down to try and
get some kip. My sought after solitude lasted just a few minutes. I
had sat on the seats in front of Claire and her friend Melissa. No
sooner had we left the university campus than Claire was leaning
forward through the tiny gap in the seats to show me some postcards
she had brought. They were arty prints, apparently famous paintings,
which I had never heard of. When I told her that she seemed
surprised, and came to sit in the seat next to me. She began to give
me loads of information on the pieces, and a brief life history of
the artist. Turns out she was studying him.
I wondered why she was telling me all this, after all the history of
art is not exactly something I'm in to. I was even more surprised
when she stayed where she was sat after she'd unloaded her knowledge
onto me. I didn't mind, and didn't complain. We sat in silence for
a while until Claire got hold of an Italian phrase book from a girl
who had spent her day in the modern languages department. We did the
usual thing, looked up the dirty words and such, then spent a good
half an hour chatting each other up in first Italian then Spanish.
It was perhaps the best coach ride I had ever taken.
I knew then that she might be interested, and resolved to ask her on
a date as soon as the opportunity arose. However I had several
opportunities and didn't take them. I'd would get into the situation
alone with her and then the words would stick in my mouth. Self-
doubt would overtake me, and demon inside would tell me not to be
silly, that she could never be interested in me, and I would only
make a fool of myself. I had to find a way to overcome this, to
shout down the demons. Things were made worse when Claire couldn't
make it to my 18 birthday party in late October. Her own party was
the following weekend, and because she didn't want to work that
weekend, she had to work during my party instead. She apologized,
and seemed very genuine. She promised me a birthday kiss and dance
at her party, but it still hurt that she hadn't come to mine.
At her party I did get a dance, and a brief kiss. It wasn't the last
dance, as I had hoped, she saved that for her big brother. It was a
smooch to a slow song though. "Bed of Roses" by Bon Jovi, Claire's
favorite tune. The music was loud and slow. Sensual and sexy. We
clutched each other tightly, tightly enough to leave her in no doubt
that I was turned on. We swayed to the music in perfect harmony, our
bodies fitting together like jigsaw pieces. My hands rested in the
small of her back, I dare not go any lower, and hers were up around
my neck. Her head rested on my shoulder, and I leaned my head
against hers. I was in heaven. I wished that the music would never
stop. After she had spent most of the evening with her family, or
dancing in a group, this was my time. Just Claire and I, sensuously
moving in time with one of the sexist songs ever written. As it came
to an end we kissed for the shortest time. A "Happy Birthday" from
both of us to each other.
The following week my optimism regarding Claire had turned to gloom.
I was once again convinced that she couldn't be interested in me.
Suddenly one Wednesday in early November I found myself alone with
her in the library after school finished. We were working on some
extra maths problems, which was unusual because normally I was
halfway home as soon as the bell went. We had a test coming up, and
had decided to stop in the library, thinking I would get more work
done. When Claire found out she joined me. We worked for about an
hour before calling it a night and packing up. We walked home
together until the point in the journey came when we had to go in
separate directions. We parted, but before I had walked more than a
few feet I had a sudden impulse. I turned around and ran after
Claire.
"Claire." I called, "Claire, Wait up."
She stopped and turned around to see why I was shouting her.
"What is it Mark?" she said.
"Urm, I was just wondering," I stammered over my words, unsure of
what I was going to say next. "...I... urm .... nothing. It doesn't
matter."
I turned to walk away but she called me back. "No wait. What is it?
What were you going to say?"
"Nothing, it doesn't matter. I was just... It doesn't matter."
"Yes it does. What was it?"
"I was just gonna... I was gonna ask you if you were doing anything
later.... I thought you might want to... I really like you and I was
gonna ask you to go out with me okay. It was silly. You'll say no,
I'll get embarrassed, so let's just forget it okay."
"So then ask me." she said, I didn't notice the way her eyes had lit
up.
"Why? So you can laugh in my face? Since I've known you you've been
asked out by all the best guys in school. All the really popular
guys. And you've turned them down. What chance has a nerd like me
got. I mean look at you. Your the sweetest, kindest, most caring
girl in school, and by far the most beautiful. What would you want
with someone like me huh? So let's just forget I said anything.
I've said what I wanted to, I've made a fool of myself so now I'm
just going home and lock myself in my room."
It all came out, everything I felt. The floodgates opened and I
couldn't stop it. By the time I realized what I was saying, I'd
already finished. I turned to leave but Claire reached out a hand to
stop me.
"Have you ever thought why I turned them all down?" she asked, but
didn't give me time to think of an answer. "It was because I was
waiting for someone. Someone special, someone I really liked, but
seem to just want to flirt with me and every other girl he knew."
It took a while for my feeble brain to assimilate this information,
so I just gazed at her blankly. She came closer to me, taking my
hands in hers. I was still looking at her as our faces came closer.
She tilted her head slightly as she approached. I reached out to her
with my lips, and then we were kissing. A long slow kiss. We
started out with just our lips touching, holding hands, bags dropped
on the floor beside us. As I parted my lips slightly she parted hers
in response. We let go of each others hands and embraced, pulling
ourselves close. My tongue snaked its way into her mouth, and was
met by hers. As our tongues wrestled, my hands were on her hips,
then in her hair, then back on her hips, slowly moving between those
two extremes, tracing the curve of her body. The whole thing must
have lasted less than a minute, but it felt like an eternity. I
didn't ever want it to stop. When it finally did we just stared at
each other, into each others eyes. She smiled at me, which lit up
her eyes, and I smiled back.
I walked her back to her house, arm in arm. We kissed again briefly
when we got there and agreed to met up later that night. After that
I didn't walk home, I floated, on a cloud of bliss.
We met up later and talked for nearly two hours. The next day at
school the social area was buzzing with the news. Evidently most
people had been waiting for this to happen. My friends all had a
good word to say, Claire friends likewise. People I hardly spoke to
were coming up to me saying "It's about time." Even some of the
teachers commented. Finally we were together, and we were happy. We
spent as much time as possible together. We even applied to the same
universities and went to the open days together.
But let's be honest, most of the people on this newsgroup don't want
to hear a sweet tale about how we got together. After all, it is
called alt.SEX.stories. Even though I had had girlfriends before I
was still a virgin. Claire had only ever been out with any guy for
no more than two dates, and she too had her cherry intact. I think
we both knew that we wanted each other in the worst way. We would
kiss a lot, and fondle each other, but we always remained fully
clothed. I felt under her bra, and inside her knickers on a few
occasions, but her hand stayed above my waist. We talked about what
it would be like, where we wanted to do it. In March we decided that
the time was right. We wanted our first time to be special, so we
decided to ask our parents if Claire could stay over at my place one
weekend.
My mom hated the idea when I first suggested it. But I argued my
case, calmly and concisely. I knew she would initially say "No" as a
kind of motherly reaction, so I had already planned what needed to be
said. I explained that since we were both 18, two years over the age
of consent, legally old enough to get married without parental
permission, legally adults, she couldn't stop us if we really wanted
to do it. Claire had a car, so all we had to do was find a good
place to park. But I also told her that we were trying to be
responsible about it, something my mom, and the teachers, were
always going on about. I told her we wanted it to be special, not
some sticky fumbling in the back seat of a mini-metro. Eventually
mom relented. She agreed that it was for the best if we had
somewhere to stay, so we set a date for Claire to stay over.
The weekend arrived quickly. We had planned to spend Friday and
Saturday night together. We wanted to just sleep with each other
before we finally "did it". So that's what happened. Friday night
we rented a video, ordered a pizza and spent the night in my room
just like so many times before. The difference was that this time
Claire didn't drive home at the end of the night. Instead she went
into the bathroom and changed into a short nightshirt. While she was
changing I put on some jim-jams and turned back the covers on the
bed.
We climbed into bed together. Mine was a small single bed, and we
were forced to lie close to each other. We held each other tightly.
We kissed, and our hands roamed. But this was not the night. As
much as we wanted each other, we showed restraint. We eventually
fell asleep, with me tucked up behind her, my arms wrapped around
her. She held onto my hand as we slept.
We spent the whole of the next day together. We woke early and went
shopping. We had a pub lunch then we went to the football, something
I had always loved and Claire had come to enjoy. We followed that
with a trip to the cinema and a McDonalds.
We went on to a club and met up with some friends. The music was
loud and hardly appropriate for a romantic evening, but we had a
great time none the less. Most of the music at that time was for
dancing alone, but by request the DJ played some bump-n-grind music,
giving Claire and I a chance to get VERY close on the dance floor.
The club was open until 2am, but we were both desperate to get home.
We bid farewell to our friends at midnight.
By the time we got back to my house the rest of my family we already
in bed. Claire and I went straight upstairs. With everyone else
asleep it was too late for soft music, too late for talk. I closed
the door to my room behind me and Claire leapt on me. Her lips
pressed against mine and her arms wrapped themselves around my neck.
I responded to her kiss, sliding my tongue into her mouth and
entwining it with hers. I put my hands on her hips, then began to
trace a line up her back with my fingers. The blouse she wore was
thin, and through it I could feel the softness of her skin and the
clasp of her bra as my hand passed over it.
As my hands worked their way up her body, hers traced a similar path
down my back. She reached my ass, and I got a shock as she gripped
its cheeks, firmly squeezing them.
She broke from the kiss to say, "I've always liked your butt."
She let go of my cheeks and her hands moved to just above the waist
of my jeans. I had on no belt, so it was easy for her to slide her
hands under my jeans and boxers, grabbing my ass again. All this
time I ran my hands through her hair as we kissed.
Claire began to knead by ass cheeks as I moved my hands between us to
paw at her breasts. At first I was gentle with them, but suddenly I
had an impulse, and squeezed one of them hard. She flung her head
back, and there was a mixed look of shock and pleasure in her eyes.
She responded by doing the same to my butt.
I moved one hand and began to work on the top button of her blouse.
She pulled away form me. No words were exchanged. There was no
need. We both knew we were about to cross a line and there was no
turning back.
She stood before me, and slowly she undid each button of her silky
white blouse. As the last one opened, she slid the garment off her
shoulders and let it fall to the floor. For a moment she just stood
there, silently. Then she reached around her back and unclasped her
bra. As she brought her hands back around to the front, her bra fell
forward, reveling to me for the first time, the milky white globes of
tit-flesh beneath. As the bra too hit the floor, landing on top of
the blouse, I stood motionless, drinking in the figure of beauty
before me. I sighed, and stepped forward, reaching up a hand to each
breast, gently kneading them, squeezing the nipples and rolling them
between my fingers. I kissed Claire lips, then as she tipped her
head back to enjoy the sensations she was experiencing, I moved on,
kissing her neck, working my way downwards. Claire had the presence
of mind to sit down on the bed, which was just behind her. I sat
down next to her, making it easier to bend down and kiss the soft
flesh of her tits. I tried to cover as much flesh with kisses before
I got to the deep red nipples, sticking straight out, hard and filled
with blood.
I reached out a tongue to lick one of them, still working on the
other with my hand. I used my tongue to flick at the pink bud,
slowly at first then with increasing tempo. Finally I took it
between my lips and began to suck upon it. Claire flung her head
back even further, almost touching the back of her neck. She let out
a long low sigh as I tried to suck as much of the milky white flesh
into my mouth as possible. We continued like this for a few minutes,
I alternated breasts, until Claire finally lifted my head up to kiss
me.
Now it was her turn. She undid each of the buttons of my shirt,
running her hand through the thin hair on my chest. As she undid
each button, she covered the newly revealed skin with kisses. When
she reached my belly button, she dipped her tongue into it, sending a
shiver up my spine.
By now I was rock hard, and my cock was straining to get out of the
confines of my Levis. It caused a visible lump. Claire placed a
hand on it. The first time anyone had been this close to my dick
besides me. Claire fumbled with the buttons of my fly, and I tried
to kick off my shoes and remove my socks with my feet. At the same
time our lips were locked together in a kiss, our tongues fighting
with each other.
Claire opened up the last button of my fly and I lifted my bum up off
the bed so that she could ease down my jeans. I now sat next to her
on the bed in only my boxer shorts, my prick wanting out. Our lips
still locked together, Claire slipped a hand into my shorts and took
hold of my dick, wrapping her delicate fingers around it. I flinched
slightly, and Claire broke away from the kiss to smile at me. A
claming smile, a loving smile, and the look in her eyes told me she
was pleased with what she felt in her hand.
As she kissed me again she began to stroke it.
Like most teenagers I masturbated, but it was never like this. Now
that someone else was doing it the sensations were heightened, and I
kissed Claire harder.
I reached a hand down and placed it on Claire's bare leg, just
between her knee and the hem of her short skirt. Gently I rubbed it,
then slid it upwards, underneath her skirt and towards her panties.
I stroked the top of her thigh, inching closer to her knickers with
each upward movement. Claire suddenly let go of my dick, and inside
I panicked, thinking I had done something wrong. But my fears we
unfounded. Claire reached around and undid the button and zip of her
skirt. I knew what she wanted, and as she lifted herself off the
surface of the bed I removed both her skirt and panties in one swift
movement. As they reached her ankles she kicked them off, across the
room, and they hit the door, falling in a crumpled heap.
Before I could attack her now exposed pussy Claire was tugging at the
waist band of my boxers, and it was my turn to rest my weight on my
hands as she removed them. No sooner had my bum hit the bed again
then Claire was once more slowly stoking my cock.
With one hand stimulating her nipple, I moved the other back to the
top of her leg. No more teasing I decided. It rubbed my hand across
her pubes. The wiry hair tickled the back of my hand, but the warmth
of her pussy beckoned. With one finger I stroked along it's length,
causing Claire's strokes on my dick to speed up momentarily. I did
this a couple more times, then slowly slipped a finger inside her.
Her whole body stiffened, and she stopped her stroking for a moment.
I began to pull my finger out, but her hand forced it back in. I
tried again, and again she forced it back in. I got the idea.
I began to fuck her with first one, then two fingers. With my thumb
I found the nub of flesh that was her clitoris, and rubbed it gently
as my fingers worked back and forth inside her.
That way we stayed for a while, but we both wanted more. Claire lay
back on the bed while I reached over to the bedside cabinet for a
condom. Claire wasn't on the pill and we wanted to be careful. I
tore the packet open and took out the rubber.
Claire looked up at me and said, "Have you ever put one of those on
before?"
"And when would I have done that?"
"I don't know, playing about, experimenting."
"No." I said, "I have never.."
"Well," Claire interrupted, a glint in her eye, "Can I do it?"
"You serious?" I asked.
She nodded and I handed her the device. I knelt in front of her and
she sat up, condom in hand. She looked at the condom then at my
dick, then did something I wasn't expecting. She leant forward and
planted a kiss on the end of my knob. I nearly came right there.
She looked up at me, her gorgeous blue eyes still glinting, and
smiled. Then she took the head of my cock into her mouth, and sucked
in as much as she could into her mouth. I can't described how she
looked, her eyes closed and her lips wrapped around my cock. In her
mouth her tongue was tracing patterns on my dick, but outside there
was no sign of the movements that were driving me wild.
Without warning she pulled away. She examined the condom once more,
and with a look up at me, and a flashed smile of cheekiness, she
slipped the rubber covering onto me, rolling it all the way down to
my balls.
Claire lay back, her legs spread slightly, and beckoned me to her. I
fell forward onto her, eager to kiss the lips that had just been
around my dick. We kissed for a moment or two, then she reached
down, searching for me. It was time.
I reached down myself and took hold of my dick. She gripped it too,
and together we guided the missile home. We found the warm, wet
entrance to her soul, and I rubbed my cock along her pussy lips a few
times. Each time she bucked hr hips upward, wanting me inside her.
Finally I pushed forward, the pressure at the end of cock forcing her
lips apart. Slowly I entered her, inching my cock forward into the
blackness. With less than half of myself inside her I felt
resistance, and pulled back just as slowly. When only the head
remained inside her I began to push back in, reveling in the velvety
warmth of her box. For two or three strokes I pushed in until it
felt the pressure of her hymen, then pulled out.
The whole time we stared into each others eyes. Claire's face was
contorted in pleasure, and in her eyes all I could see was love.
This time as I began to pull out Claire gripped my ass to stop me,
urging me forward.
I looked at her. Silently asking if she was sure, I didn't want to
hurt her. In answer to my unspoken question she pulled my ass
closer, smashing past the thin skin blocking the way. For a moment
her face showed pain, but her eyes showed me her love. She held me
there until the pain subsided, then released her grip.
"Now Fuck me." she said.
I bent down to kiss her softly on the lips, and began long slow
strokes, pleasuring both of us in a way neither thought possible.
With each stroke Claire lifted her hips up to meet me, and all the
time we continued to kiss.
I began to pick up the pace, building towards an orgasm, and Claire
matched every beat. All to soon I came, without warning and with
force. Every muscle in my body tensed, and as the condom filled, I
collapsed on top of Claire. For a while I was unable to speak as I
got back both my breath and my senses. When I had recovered I kissed
Claire's forehead and spoke softly to her.
"I'm sorry." I said.
"What for?" she asked, "that was lovely."
"Really?"
"Yeah," she said with a smile, "I liked it,"
"But it didn't last very long." I said.
"So, we can do it again later."
"And you didn't have.. you know.. you didn't cum." I said.
"Doesn't matter." she said, "I'm sure I will next time, or the time
after that."
And she did. We got under the covers and fell asleep in the same
position as the previous night. The next morning we did it again,
and Claire did cum, HARD. After that weekend Claire stopped at my
house regularly. Since she shared a room with her sister we never
got the chance to stay at her house.
Like all the most passionate of couples we could never last. I got
into University, she didn't. She came to stay a few times with me
but the distance was too much. We spilt up and both moved on to
pastures new. If I ever got the chance I would love to meet up with
her again, to relive that first time. I doubt it will ever happen,
but we all live in hope.
[END]
<------------------------------------------------------------------->
**Copyright Notice
This work is Copyright 1998 Marky Everitt. You may keep a copy in a
personal archive, electronic or otherwise, as long as it is for
personal use only (Personal being you and friends/family/partner, but
not the general public).
Feel free to repost in the newsgroup you found it or any other
appropriate newsgroup, but I would appreciate an e-mail telling me
you have reposted :->
This story should not, under any circumstances be used to make a
profit by anyone other than the author and copyright holder.
This story may or may not be based on actual events, real or
otherwise. The names of the people and places involved may or may
not have been changed to protect the innocent and/or guilty. It may
or may not be based on material that the author has or has not read,
seen, or otherwise experienced, in the past, present and/or future.
Any similarity between actual people and/or places, real or
otherwise, is probably coincidental, but on the other hand....
----------------------------------------------------
Well I can't say I'm completely surprised,
You'll bonk anything won't you lister.
Rimmer - Red Dwarf
----------------------------------------------------
marky92@hotmail.com
kce63@dial.pipex.com
http://ds.dial.pipex.com/town/road/kce63/
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