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o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o
o This part of my collection offers a very wide variety of o
o stories. They have been submitted by people from all over the o
o world. Also from alt.sex.stories (Newsgroups). There is no o
o particular order other than offering them to you in alpha- o
o betical directories. o
o I don’t believe in categorizing things. "I don’t want to o
o be typed therefore I don’t type things myself." I think it’s o
o a lot more fun to browse around and find 'little' surprises o
o that you might not have even thought of looking for. o
o Lest we forget!!! This story was produced as adult en- o
o tertainment and should not be read by minors. Kristen Becker o
o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o
Brenda's Conquest - 2 (Mf, ff)
by Tom Bombadil (c) Aug 1996
***
Chapter 2 of 9
Disclaimer: All the standard rules apply. If you are offended by
explicit descriptions of sex or the human body, if it is illegal to
possess such materials at your location, if you are under-age by law
in your location, or if somebody else thinks you might have too much
fun reading it, stop right now and remove this text from your
computer.
This is purely a work of fiction, with all characters and actions
described by me coming straight out of my imagination. As a work of
fiction, it does not condone or condemn any of the activities or
actions described, nor does it relate to any type of real events in my
life, or known to me in the lives of any of my friends or relatives.
You've been warned.
In this chapter - End of her conquest, a decision, our first evening
**********************************************************************
< Here's where the results of their machinations finally showed up.
Something I never would have believed myself capable of years ago.
Something I still have trouble believing happened to me, something
that I actively participated in. I still don't know what was going on
in my head at that time. Not that it really matters much, now. >
**********************************************************************
Monday she was back again. After dinner, when we were snuggling in
front of the TV, I asked her a question that had been bothering me for
a while. I wasn't sure I wanted to know the answer.
"Brenda, why are you here at my place all the time? Your mother says
it's because you're working out a problem with your boyfriend.
Shouldn't you be with him instead?"
She turned and looked at me with those big beautiful green eyes of
hers. After a minute of staring, she kissed me, then turned back to
the TV.
I admit that I can be pretty dense. Sometimes things that are obvious
to others just pass me by. Hints may have to be less than subtle. I
do, however, notice it when someone hits me with a baseball bat.
That's what it felt like. A nice 32-ouncer right across the back of
my skull. I was the jerk, the bastard, that horse's behind.
Just to confirm my idiocy, I had to ask.
"I'm the boyfriend everyone's been talking about, aren't I?"
"Yes"
A simple answer, said so calmly and so easily she could have been
saying yes to having a soda. Like the class A-1 jerk I am, I opened
my mouth before thinking things through.
"Brenda, I can't be your boyfriend. I'm far too old for you!"
Here I am, cuddled up with her under a quilt, alone with her in my
place for the umpteenth time, watching TV, my arm around her, touching
and occasionally kissing, suddenly realizing what was going on. Like
I said. Dense. She had an answer for that. Or rather, she had a
question.
"Do you love me?"
I opened my mouth, ready with another quick answer, then shut it
before I made things worse. Besides, the more I thought it through,
the less sure I was of my answer. I did love her, but in what way? I
had no reply to give, so this time I kept silent. The thing that
surprised me was that we stayed snuggled together until it was time
for her to go home. She never moved away from me, and I never moved my
arm or myself away from her. We kissed again as she left.
Sleep only came to me early in the morning. It was haunted by
unremembered dreams.
Tuesday I re-arranged my work schedule so I could talk with Mary in
the afternoon before Brenda got home from school. It was a memorable
conversation.
"Mary, Brenda asked me a question yesterday and I don't know what kind
of an answer I can give her."
"Let me guess. First, you figured out who her boyfriend is, right?"
"I - Uh, yes."
"Then she asked you the big question. We talked about it last night."
"What am I supposed to say to her?"
"The truth, when you figure that out."
"Come off it. She's almost young enough to be my daughter. I can't
be her boyfriend. There's no way it could ever work out."
She *was* almost young enough to be my daughter. If I'd been really
unlucky my first time, I could have had a kid about twelve years old
at that point. I was twenty-five. You figure it out.
"Let's try something different before you say something you'll regret.
I'll ask you a few questions, and for each honest answer I'll give you
something in return. These will be difficult, so think before you
reply. Nothing you say will be repeated to anyone, either."
It wasn't what I expected. Then again, I had no idea how she'd react
in the first place. But this?
"How old were you when you first had sex?"
Instant panic. Then the automatic reflexes kicked in. "Sixteen."
"Richard, I said honest answers. That means the truth. Otherwise
leave."
Honest answers. This was important. Was I that transparent?
"You have to promise first that *nothing* I say here will ever be
repeated."
"You have my solemn word."
"I was twelve. Don't ask who with, because I'll never tell anyone
that." (And before you dirty-minded pervs out there get any ideas, no
it wasn't with either of my sisters or my mother or my aunt.)
"The first time is supposed to be a wonderful experience. Did you
enjoy it?"
"No. Neither one of us had the slightest idea of what to do, so it
was messy, painful for her, upsetting to me, and downright scary
seeing all that blood. We never ever tried that again, at least with
each other."
"Yours was a little worse than average, but not by all that much. My
first time was when I was eleven. He was eighteen, and we both loved
every second of the event, even the brief pain when I lost my cherry."
"What sick bastard would fuck an eleven year old?"
She grabbed a beer from the fridge and put it in front of me.
"Here. You'll need that to wash the taste of foot from your mouth. It
was Will, my husband."
I shut my mouth, then had a quick couple of slugs. This was a shock.
It was difficult to picture Will as a pedophile.
"You see, I chose him to be my first because I wanted it to be
special. He was smart, good-looking, charming, and a really nice
person. It took a lot of convincing on my part to get him to 'take
advantage' of me. I don't thing he realized back then how things
would turn out. My mother never suspected a thing until I was
seventeen and I picked him to be my date at the junior prom."
"So you're saying that you approve of anything that happens between
us. Is that it?"
"I'll answer that with another question. How many of Brenda's
classmates do you think are still virgins?"
"What's that got to do with anything!?"
"Answer the question."
"I have no idea. All? Most of them?"
"Just over half. The others have already started in on their sex
lives, whether as a one-time thing or on a regular basis. By this
time next year, you'd be lucky to find half a dozen virgins in that
class. What I'm saying is that Brenda will be active soon, with or
without you. She chose you years ago, but you've been so thick-headed
that you've never noticed. Then you drop hints about moving away.
What do you think that's doing to her?"
Now I'm trying to picture it from her point of view, and I realize
that I can't. She's probably spent more time at my place than
anywhere outside of home or school. We've done things together that
require a great deal of trust and faith in each other. Hell, she's
been occasionally sharing my bed. I thought I knew her. Trust, yes.
Faith, yes. Love?
"Mary, what is it she's looking for from me? I need to know."
"You have to ask her that. Once you start asking the right questions,
she'll start talking to you again."
"How long have you been in on this conspiracy?"
"For half a year. That's when she became serious about you. Before
that, it was just an infatuation, and we ignored it."
"Is there anything else I should know?"
"Only this. I love my daughter, and I do not want to see her get
hurt. Make certain that you can live with your choices, whatever they
are."
She was over at four, as usual. I was getting good at this cooking
for two business, since I was getting so much practice. The quality
of the food and the cooking had gone up considerably in the last two
weeks.
After dinner, we cuddled again, adding in some more caressing and
kissing, this time watching the sunset.
It was time for some honest answers, I hoped.
"Why did you choose me?"
She looked at me, looked back at the sunset, and sighed.
"You are a really nice guy. You are handsome, intelligent, willing to
learn, and you can think. For me, you've always been a person, not
just another adult. You treated me nice, paid attention to me, bought
me things that were special just for me, and you said you'd never hurt
me. You never have. Lots of times you could have taken advantage of
me, teased me, sent me home for teasing you, or tattled when Vicky and
I fought, but you never did. I fell in love with you. That's why I
chose you."
All right, what am I supposed to say now. She's just bared her soul,
and I don't know if it's within me right now to give her what she
wants.
"What are you looking for from me?"
"Love. The real kind. I think you love me, but I don't know for
sure. I guess it's 'cause you don't know either. I'm waiting for you
to figure that out."
I guess I asked the right question. Can I handle the answer? It
definitely needed a lot of thought. One thing I did notice - over the
past two weeks it had changed from her showing up and sometimes
snuggling up to me to *us* cuddling, caressing, and kissing. There
had never been a full-time lady in my life (except the Aussie, but we
both knew that would end) and sitting here sharing time with Brenda
did feel awfully nice. But did I love her like she was the love of my
life? Once again, I had no answer to give.
Wednesday, when we were cuddling, I asked one more question.
"Brenda, if I did leave, what would you do?"
I could feel the tension and shock roll through her body.
"Richard, if you left me, I would be heartbroken for a long time.
Eventually I would get over it, of course, and try to find someone
else. It would never be the same as with you, but I would probably
find a man I could care for. He wouldn't be as good for me as you
are, but if that's what you decide, then I have no choice."
"I haven't decided yet. I wanted to hear from you what might happen.
It helps to know you wouldn't do something really foolish."
Later that night, I tried to picture someone else sitting beside me on
the couch, someone besides Brenda. Anyone else. I went through my
current batch of possible dates, the ladies in college, the ones I met
overseas, even the girls from high school. It wasn't difficult to
picture sitting and cuddling with most of them, but it was impossible
to imagine sitting there and getting the same feelings of togetherness
and belonging. Only one came close, and that was Nadine, the woman
from Australia. Of course, that may have been leftover lust. She was
still the best bedmate I'd ever had.
That didn't do much good.
Thursday at lunchtime I got some help making up my mind. It was a
question I asked of one of our customers. We were treating them to
lunch, and things had already moved from pleasantries through business
and into general talk. Jerry, the customer's head guy, was going
through his fourth divorce. I asked him if he'd ever found the
perfect woman.
"Once, a very long time ago, I did. She was beautiful, intelligent,
cuddlesome, and a lot of fun to be with. I was young and foolish, too
full of myself. There were lots of chicks around. I took her for
granted, took too long to pop the question, so she found someone else.
It was only after she left that I realized how much I loved her. I've
been looking for someone like her for the last thirty years. If you
have a chance like that, don't pass it up."
"How did you finally figure out that you loved her?"
"That's an easy question for me now. The answer simply came too late
to help. Just picture that special person in your mind, in a time and
place where you both were happy together. Now imagine spending the
entire rest of your life without her. If you can do that with a
steady heart, you're not in love. If the thought makes you ill, then
you may be in love. The worse you feel, the more likely you love the
lady. I've never been in love since, but I keep looking, obviously
without any luck."
Later that evening, when Brenda and I were cuddling, I tried out his
suggestion. It was easy to imagine us sitting here watching the
sunset, because that's what we were doing. Pushing forward ten years,
then twenty, I removed her from this picture. I took out her form,
her smile, her eyes and hair, her unique smell, that fantastic ass,
her voice and laugh, the arguments and teasing, her temper, all the
books and readings, our kisses and cuddles, watching her in the
sunshine, seeing her sleeping, having her run all over the place, the
way we slept together, her face when she unwrapped a special present,
how she made me feel when we were together like this, everything.
Just imagining this left such a big hole in my heart I started to cry.
Brenda waited for my to finish, not saying a word. It was a quick
recovery, since I could still hold and cuddle her. We kissed.
"Brenda, I love you. For now and for always. As long as you want me,
I'm yours."
"It's about damned time you figured that out! I've been waiting a
year already! Now let's kiss for real!"
So much for my idyllic romantic scene. I'm going to need some
adjustments in my imagined 'love moments', modifying them to match the
spirit and temperament, never mind the impatience, of a thirteen year
old girl.
There is something to be said for enthusiasm. Her kissing technique
needed a little work, but she was good and would get better. It was
definitely a lot of fun, especially when she was squirming on my lap.
I hoped I would never regret this choice. She went home at eight,
promising that tomorrow, being Friday, we'd start getting serious.
Talk about a suggestive statement!
**********************************************************************
< Well? How would you have fared against this lady? Any better than
me? Or am I the only weak-willed person on the planet, the only one
who could have been captivated by this young vixen? >
< Something I always wondered about is what would have happened if she
had been less adamant about capturing me, or if one of those other
dates had gotten to her first. Where would we each be now? Would I
have found someone to love like I love her? Somehow I doubt it. >
< First, I'll tell you about the great time we had on Friday. I'll
save Saturday and all the surprises for later. >
**********************************************************************
Friday was very ... memorable.
After my morning class and some early afternoon work, I dropped in to
speak with Mary again. This was before Brenda got off school.
"So, did she tell you?"
"She didn't have to. She was lit up like a beacon and bouncing off
the walls. The only thing she needed to say was "he's finally mine!".
You could be in for some rather, ah, interesting times."
"No kidding. That's what I'm here to talk about. You realize, of
course, now that I've said yes, what she's going to want?"
"Do we need to go through that again? I already understand what you
are going through, and how my daughter is feeling. This is her
choice. Just be good to her. It's all I ask."
Mary invited me to dinner Saturday, as a sort of celebration.
I decided to dress up for our first night. Shiny black shoes, black
socks, pressed black dress pants, and a white dress shirt with cuffs
and collar. I ignored the cologne, since most of my previous dates
preferred a natural smell if we were intending to become intimate.
Dinner was sort-of catered. I went out of my way to get some really
good Chinese take-out. It would reheat nicely in the oven and the
microwave. There was already wine and beer in the 'fridge, so that
wasn't a problem, though I doubted she had done much, if any, drinking
before. This was in addition to the usual assortment of sodas.
It took forever for four o'clock to show up. Brenda didn't show until
five. The wait was worth it.
She and her Mom must have worked for hours to get her looking like
this. Her red-blonde hair was pulled back into a pair of braids, one
falling behind either shoulder. There were hints of makeup on her
face, just enough to accent her eyes, cheeks and lips. She didn't
need any more. On top was a beautiful soft white blouse with full
sleeves and lacy neck and wrists. You could just see hints of the
lace bra underneath, through the fabric. Below that was a navy blue
miniskirt, just barely long enough to cover the tops of her stocking
in front and back, and showing them off on the slit sides. Yes, she
wore pale blue elastic-topped stockings. Her shoes were the same navy
blue as the dress.
This woman-child was a magnificent sight. The outfit showed off all
her assets, including her long luscious legs, nice waist, petite
breasts, and, my favourite, that tight, round backside. If Brenda had
dressed like this on any of her dates in the last couple of weeks,
there's no way those guys would have left her alone. When she came in
she did a slow turn, letting me get a good look at all sides of this
beautiful creature.
In spite of all the physical beauty, it was her eyes that drew me to
her. They glowed, revealing an inner fire I couldn't resist. For a
time, little existed other than her, all else fading into nothingness.
Her look of love, tinged with lust, re-ignited my passions, sweeping
aside all doubts and questions. The woman I loved was standing there,
waiting for me, wanting me.
"... like it?" She had been speaking, but I hadn't heard anything.
"You are so beautiful ..." In two steps I was there, lifting her in
an embrace so we could kiss. I think I may have frightened her a
little, since it took some time before her arms finally wove
themselves around my neck. It was the single most wonderful kiss I
have ever experienced. The magic of this moment was simply too
powerful to ever be repeated in my lifetime.
That intense moment of rapture slowly passed, leaving behind a legacy
of happiness, caring, and love. I came back to myself, regaining
awareness of my surroundings. She was returning my kiss with a hunger
I have rarely seen, pulling herself into me with arms and legs, almost
painfully crushing her lips to mine, our tongues dancing in and out in
an unchoreographed web of desire.
Did I teach her to kiss like this?
I pulled back from her for a moment. I needed to breathe. It was
that or pass out. Once again I could see into her eyes and was struck
by the raw passion there, something I'd never seen in her before,
something I hoped would be there forever.
"Wow! Do you kiss all the girls like that?"
I chuckled. "Only one."
"Yeah? Who?"
"You." I leaned in for another kiss, one less forceful, but with all
the same love and desire I felt for this woman-child. Her lips tasted
of strawberries, I noticed.
This was something new and somewhat scary for both of us. I had no
idea how much this person could affect me until now, and the result
was frightening in it's intensity. No person in my life had stirred
up these emotions, whether lovers or family. For her, everything was
new, untasted and unknown. Time to bring down the heat a little, or I
really would scare her. It was tough reigning in my hormones.
We did eventually have dinner, curled up on the couch, watching the
sunset. Despite my romanticism, the wine was left in the fridge. Beer
did go nicely with Chinese, though. We shared two.
After dinner, she dragged me upstairs. "I want to see this thing I've
been sitting on for all these months."
She was serious. As soon as we were in the room, she sat on the bed
and told me to strip.
"I've seen everything but what's in your shorts, and I wanna see that
thing now too. Come on, get moving."
"Impatient, aren't we." I was just as impatient as she was, but was
also quite a bit more experienced. A little anticipation goes a long
way, and can be quite a turn-on. It only took me about two minutes to
undress to my boxers, but probably seemed more like twenty to Brenda.
"Here. I'll let you unwrap your new toy."
My cock was already hard, tenting out the front of my shorts. She
came over, looking a little tentative, reaching out with one of her
small hands to touch the front of the bulge. That first contact sent
shivers through me. She traced the outline through the fabric, moving
it this way and that, getting an idea of the size and shape of it.
Hooking her fingers under the elastic on either hip, she pulled my
shorts down to my ankles in one motion. My cock sprang free and
bounced off her chin on her way down.
It was intriguing, watching her examine me, her eyes wide and
glittering with excitement.
"Is this the first cock you've ever seen?"
"No, but it's the first one I've seen up close."
Interesting answer. I'd have to talk with Mary about that.
It was my turn next. I sat on the edge of the bed and drew her in to
me, pulling her head down for a kiss. It was another pulse-pounding
event, with her holding my cock with both hands.
Removing my lips from hers, I began to explore the rest of her with
them, moving along her chin then down her throat. It was easy to undo
her blouse and slip it over her shoulders. She released my shaft and
dropped the blouse to the floor. Grabbing each other, we dove into
another kiss, assaulting each other with lips and tongues.
She pulled back, breaking our kiss and embrace, leaving us both
gasping for air. She giggled, the first time I've ever heard that
from her.
"I think I need to be naked now, don't you?"
I sat there and watched as she removed her bra, dropping it on a
chair. She moved her blouse from the floor to that same chair. It was
soon followed by her shoes, skirt, stockings, and panties.
Now she was nude, standing there in front of me, blushing, but making
no move to cover up. In fact, she began to show off a little, turning
and letting me get a good close look at every part of her. As much as
I had seen with her in a bikini, this was much better. Her breasts
were small but perfectly shaped, topped by quarter-sized dark pink
areolae and little-girl nipples that were now hard and pointed.
Something I immediately noticed was that there were no tan lines.
Looking lower, in front and behind, I saw no tan lines anywhere - and
no hair. She must have seen the surprise on my face.
"We've got a very private backyard. Mom lets us skinny-dip in the
pool and get an all-over tan when nobody else is around. It's fun,
and a bit exciting. We do it all the time."
"No hair, either." I was stating the obvious.
"Well, I don't have much anyway, and it's easier to shave it all than
try and keep it trimmed for gymnastics. Besides, it makes me feel -
*nasty*."
"I like it. May I?"
I reached out my hands for her breasts, and she moved into them,
allowing me to touch, hold, fondle, and caress those tight little
tanned half-orbs. Stepping in closer, she pulled my head down towards
her chest, keeping her hands on my shoulders for support. How could I
resist such an invitation? At first, I simply let my head rest
between her mounds, getting used to the feel of being so close to her,
still using my hands to gently massage those fleshy pillows, gently
teasing and rubbing her nipples with my fingers. It was with care and
tenderness, using lips and tongue, that I began to nibble and lick my
way around the outsides of her breasts. They were warm, oh-so-soft
and silky, tasting slightly salty from sweat.
My hands moved behind her, one caressing her shoulders, neck, and
upper back, the other moving lower to touch and caress the backs of
her legs and that wonderfully tight, round, firm ass. It felt even
better than it looked.
These gentle ministrations were having an effect on her. I could feel
her body's tension and hear her occasional slight, almost whining,
sigh of pleasure. Using both hands now, I began a gentle caress of
her entire lower body, starting from her lower back, over her ass and
down the back of her legs, then up her thighs, over her hips to her
waist, across the front of her stomach, then down over her mound and
the fronts of her legs. When one hand touched her inner thigh, she
spread her legs to allow me access to her crotch. This I denied
myself, for now. It was simply too much fun exploring the rest of her
beautiful body.
My mouth was not idle during this time. I licked and nibbled each orb
in turn, slowly inching closer to her nipples, until my tongue was
circling just out of reach of her buds. When I opened my mouth and
sucked half her tit into my mouth she shuddered and groaned, pressing
herself closer to me, spreading her knees, and starting a slow rocking
motion with her hips. She was getting wound up in a hurry.
I continued to lick and suck on her nipples, pulling them into my
mouth and flicking them with the tip of my tongue, nibbling at them
with my lips, sometimes grazing them lightly with my teeth. My hands
continuously caressed her body, coming close to but never quite
touching her pussy. Her breathing was becoming faster and heavier,
those squeaking sighs more frequent. There was now a damp heat
radiating from her crotch, something I could feel whenever one of my
hands wandered near. The rocking of her hips was also getting faster
and more insistent, almost beginning to demand attention.
It was difficult to maintain this slow pace, but it was for her
pleasure, so I did. If I pushed too fast or too hard, I could scare
her or hurt her, and that would have been unforgivable. My own needs
would have to wait, possibly for another day. With the promise of a
long future, it would be a very small sacrifice.
Now she was completely lost within her own pre-orgasmic world. All
thoughts and inhibitions had disappeared. I was in control of her
body and her sensations, and I wanted to draw out her pleasure for a
while. It would have been easy (and I was tempted) to jam my hand
into her crotch and drive her into an almost immediate orgasm, but
that would be short-changing her after this long, delicious build-up.
No, taking my time and doing it right, despite the pounding of my
heart and the fire in my belly, was the best thing right now.
Moving both hands, I used one to hold, fondle, and squeeze those tight
ass muscles of hers, and the other I used to cup her pussy, all of it,
from her mound to her ass crack. She immediately spread her legs
wider and attempted to drive herself to orgasm by grinding her crotch
into my palm. I let my hands be moved along with her hips, denying
her that release. Her high-pitched sigh/whines were now interspersed
with the odd whimper and moan of frustration. She wanted to cum bad
now, and I wasn't letting her.
It was easy to let my hand ride with her motions, leaving just enough
resistance to stimulate her, but not nearly enough to get her off.
Slowly she gave up on thrusting, settling in to a slight rocking of
her hips. Her whimpers and moans changed to sighs of pleasure when I
increased the pressure of both hands, one pushing from behind on her
ass, the other pushing up from below and in front against her pussy.
She was completely soaked between her legs, pumping out an amazing
amount of liquid for such a young girl. It was easy to lubricate one
finger and let it settle in between her lower lips, sinking it deep to
lie full-length against her inner recesses. Her rocking motion was
now harder and faster, but moved only a few inches.
I let her get herself off now, rocking and swivelling her hips,
changing position and angle to press her most sensitive spots against
me. I helped by grinding my palm into her mound to stimulate her
clit, and by crooking my finger and driving the tip into her hole.
She came with a gasp and a shudder, her entire body tensing and
stopping all motion. I responded by attacking her with hands and
mouth. I had never stopped licking and nibbling her nipples, but now
I went back to a hard sucking, tonguing, and nipping of them. My
hands were driving fast, replacing her now absent motion with their
own, pushing her, rubbing her clit, her slot, and the first inch of
her vagina. With that strong, flexible, well-conditioned gymnast's
body of hers, she could handle a long, drawn-out climax, and I gave it
to her. I kept her there for a good minute or so, only slowing and
stopping when she ran out of air. I'm not sure how many peaks she
had, but each one was punctuated by another loud gasp and a firmer
pull on my head with her arms.
To prevent her from collapsing on the floor, I stood and picked her
up. Laying her out on the bed, I crawled on beside her, pulling her to
me in a tight embrace. Shudders were still running through her from
that long, intense set of orgasms. I pulled a blanket over us both,
then kissed her, lightly, before settling down for some rest. She
needed it.
I guess I drifted off for a bit there, because I woke up to a
wonderful sensation on my cock. When I looked, Brenda was curled up
between my legs, one hand slowly stroking my shaft, while she licked
the underside with her tongue. Her eyes flickered up to meet mine for
a second, acknowledging the fact that I was now awake.
"I think I like my new toy. In sex ed they always call it a penis.
What do you call it?"
"Well, when I think about it, I call it my cock."
"Sometimes the other girls call it funny names, ones I don't
recognize. Can you tell me all of them?"
"<chuckle> Brenda, even I don't know all the euphemisms people have
for a cock. There's hundreds of them. The one's you'll usually hear
are cock, prick, dick, penis, shaft, rod, dirk, dagger, love tool,
willie, baby-maker, spunk-jet, rocket - ah hell, I can't remember any
more right now."
"Do you like what I'm doing to you?"
She was giving me a nice, leisurely hand job with a lot of tongue
action thrown in. It was a fairly skillful effort too. Somehow I
didn't think this was her first time, despite her saying she'd never
seen another cock close-up - she was doing too good a job.
"Yes, this feels really nice. How many other boys have you done this
to?"
"None. This is my first time. I've never touched a ... cock ...
before."
"How come you're so good at it, then?"
"Well, if you promise not to tell anyone, I'll let you know."
I promised.
"I've been watchin' Mom and Dad for years. They do all kindsa stuff.
This is one of dad's favourites. Of course, Mom usually does this,
too."
She moved forward a bit and ... engulfed ... my cock. That's the only
way I can describe it. The feeling was incredible as her mouth closed
over onto two-thirds of my shaft. I guess she wanted to get used to
the taste or the feel or something, because all she did for the next
few minutes was do a bit of sucking and lick around on different parts
of the shaft and head. She pulled off and let go with an almost
audible pop and resumed her slow stroking.
"That doesn't taste too bad. Not like some of the girls said. It's
kinda musky and salty, but not gross. What's that stuff?"
I opened my eyes again. She was staring at a drop of pre-cum sitting
on the head of my cock.
"That's a bit of pre-cum. Didn't they teach you about that in your
sex ed class?"
"N-no. It's not pee, is it?"
"No, it's not. I can't pee when I'm excited like this. The plumbing
inside gets turned off. They don't teach you much, do they."
"All they teach is about penises and vaginas and wombs and testicles
and ovaries and eggs and sperm and periods and making babies - and
lots and lots about funny diseases people can get. They don't say
anything about fucking or kissing or climaxing or any of the good
stuff. We gotta figure that out on our own."
"True. But that's all part of the fun of growing up. The older you
get, the more you know, the more fun you have."
"Yeah, but I wanna have fun now, not wait until I'm old. Heck, mom
started a long time before me, and Vicky ..."
"Vicky?"
"Nah. She hasn't done anything with guys yet. She's still a virgin
too."
So there's secrets for Vicky too. Something else to ask Mary about.
"It's time to play with my new toy. Now, how does Mom do this ..."
She got up on her knees, leaning over my cock. Using her tongue, she
lapped up the few drops of pre-cum, rolling them around in her mouth,
then swallowed. With one motion she was again taking over half my
cock in her mouth. This time, she started a slow bobbing action,
sliding up and down my shaft. The conversation had distracted me from
what was happening, but now I could feel myself edging a little closer
to that ultimate peak.
I could tell she was practicing, getting used to the feel of my cock
in her mouth, and it's taste and smell. Her tongue explored every
part it could reach, including trying to insinuate itself into the
hole in the tip of my cock. I've had better blow jobs, but not for
several years. This girl was incredible, instinctively doing all the
right things. I guess watching a live show every once in a while
helps further an education more than I would have thought. Keep this
up, and she'd find out first-hand what semen tasted like.
Now she was trying something new. She pulled back a bit, tipped up
her head, and slowly sank down into my groin. I could feel the back
of her mouth, then some spasms as her choke reflex kicked in. Moving
back a bit, then forward again, she sank a little farther in, pushing
my cock deeper into her throat. She pulled back a bit again, catching
her breath, then tilted her head a bit farther and pushed down again.
This time I could feel the head of my cock pass through into her
throat. I could see the concentration in her face - her eyes were
closed tight and her brow was drawn down. After pulling back for some
more air, she pushed in again, this time sinking down until her nose
was buried in my curly hairs. She'd done it. I could feel my cock
being massaged and compressed every time she swallowed, and could see
the lump in her throat where the head of my cock sat. She finally
pulled right off, breathing hard, with a look of real satisfaction on
her face.
All through this I could only lie there and stare at what she was
doing, with my jaw hanging open and my eyes bugging out. The last
time I'd been swallowed like this was in Puson, and that girl was an
expert. I've had plenty of blow jobs since, but never had anyone go
right down on me. Guys, if you've ever had this done to you, you know
exactly how I feel. It's impossible to describe, trying to combine
the intense physical pleasure of a tight throat and warm mouth with
the mental stimulation of knowing that your cock is sitting in the
gullet of this woman in front of you, and she's doing it willingly.
By the time she was done, I was gasping and shuddering, on the verge
of climax. But, she was done, and left me hanging there, unaware of
how close I was to blowing my load. She slithered up beside me and
gave me a big, warm, smack on the lips.
"Do you think you could be happy with me? I mean, I am rather young,
and underdeveloped, and I don't know much, and ... and ..."
"Shhh, Brenda, It's okay. C'mere."
I gave her a big hug and a kiss.
"Now listen. I love you. I love you for what you are, not what you
aren't. You are beautiful, inside and out, with personality, charm,
wit, intelligence, and a killer bod. Yes, you are young and
inexperienced, but everyone is at one point. I want to be with you
while you learn about life and love. As you grow older, your beauty
will change from one form to another, but you will still be beautiful.
I'll be happy just to be with you, as long as you want me. And I hope
that will be for a long, long time."
"Richard, I love you."
That next kiss lasted for some time. It's amazing how much passion
can be expressed by two people holding each other tight in a lip-lock
that just won't quit. It helps having a lot of skin contact, and
having a partner who can't seem to lie still.
We lay there for a while, sneaking little kisses from each other,
whispering about nothing in particular, holding and touching, just
getting used to being intimate. I watched the lust building up in her
eyes, until ...
"Richard, would you ..."
"Would I what?"
"Well, would you, like, do me?"
"Do what?"
"Well, like, sorta like I did you, sorta?"
"You mean lick your pussy?" I was guessing.
"Well, yeah. I see Dad do it to Mom all the time and she looks like
she loves it but the girls at school say guys don't like it and they
won't do it 'cause it's gross but they like it too and say it's
wonderful but I don't know what it's like and I want to try it!
Please?"
How she got all that out in one breath I'll never know.
"Well, let's see. If you think about it, it is a little gross. I
mean, girls pee there, they have periods with all that blood and
stuff, they get nasty infections, and they get really sweaty and wet
in there."
"Oh."
"Of course, that's never bothered me. Eating out a girl is probably
my third-favourite thing to do."
"Oh!"
I moved in for another kiss. If she learned to kiss like this from
me, then she's a much better student than I am a teacher. Of course,
I could be better than I give myself credit for, but I doubt it.
It took a while for me to work my way down to her pussy. I lingered
on her neck for a bit, then paid more than lip service (Ha! I couldn't
resist!) to her breasts and nipples. By the time I arrived, she was
breathing heavily and letting out the occasional sigh. Shifting us
around, I moved in between her legs and lifted her calves over my
shoulders - my favourite position for a long, lingering session.
She was beautiful here too. No tan lines - even her pussy lips were
tanned. No hair or stubble anywhere. Even as worked up as she was,
with her legs spread like this, her lips stayed tightly closed.
Using both hands, I opened her up to view her hidden treasures. This
let loose several trickles of her juice which I immediately lapped up.
If her wiggling and groaning was any indication, she was definitely
heated up and ready for more.
With the tip of my tongue I traced the junction of her inner thigh and
crotch, from bottom to top, up over her bare mound, then down the
other side. A short pause to lap up some more dribbles, then circle
back the other way. Catch a few more drops, then back again. One
broad stroke from hole to hole to pick up that little stream, and hold
her down so she doesn't bounce me off the bed with her gyrations. She
likes this.
I began to lick at and in her hole to clean up all those delicious
fluids collected there. Inside, she was creamier than outside, and
her taste was a bit thicker and stronger. It was hard to keep up with
her flow, especially since I couldn't sink my tongue in all the way.
Her hymen blocked off access about two inches inside.
So I settled into a rhythm for a while, waiting to see if she'd cum.
Lick deep inside several times to pick up her thick cream. Run my
tongue along the outside edge of her hole for a few seconds. Trace a
line along the edges of both outer and inner lips. Dip down to tickle
her anus. Return with two or three broad strokes from hole to hole.
Back inside for more juicy cream.
Sometimes it was hard to keep this sequence going, especially when
Brenda tried to buck me off the bed. She hadn't cum yet, but her
moans and unintelligible cries and shouts let me know she enjoyed my
attentions. I was pumping my tongue in and out of her hole when there
was a sudden arching and stiffening of her entire body, combined with
a gasp of indrawn breath. I held her down tightly so she wouldn't
throw me off, and kept licking in her hole. The flow changed from a
trickle to a stream, letting me enjoy a real mouthful of her delicious
juices.
She relaxed for an instant, exhaled in a big puff, then gasped and
arched her back again, seizing up in another peak. Then a third.
Breathing hard and fast now, she rolled and jerked her hips at me,
wanting more. So I began a slow tongue-tip massage of the skin around
and on top of her tiny clit. It wasn't much bigger than the tip of
her baby finger, but it was sensitive.
As soon as she felt the tip of my tongue near her sensitive little
button she began to hump her groin, looking for that extra
stimulation. I lubricated two fingers in her juicy crack and slid them
inside her, down to the first knuckle, and began a slow pump in and
out of her vagina in time with my teasing tongue.
It was time to speed things up a bit. I wanted her completely
satiated before she was completely exhausted, and with all the moving
around she was doing, she'd be pooped in no time. Pulling my fingers
away for a few seconds, I sent some broad strokes up from anus to the
top of her crack, both to collect up her spilling fluids and to
lubricate her completely again. Resuming my finger-fuck at a faster
pace, I pursed my lips around her clit and began to suck hard, using
my tongue to run all around and over top of her hood and sensitive
tip.
This sent her over hard again, but this time I didn't let up and she
stayed arched, occasionally gasping for air, unseeing eyes staring at
the ceiling, hands clutching the covers, thighs squeezing me tight,
and vagina spasming around my fingers. Oh, this girl was fantastic!
I finally relented when she came down, collapsing in on herself and
gasping for air. There was no way for me to know if she'd had one
huge climax or a rapid succession of them. All I could be sure of is
that she'd really gotten off big time.
Crawling up beside her again, I cradled her in my arms, letting her
enjoy the aftermath of her release. When I kissed her, she responded
warmly, but quickly pulled back for some more deep breaths. I pulled
the blankets over us and let her drift off to sleep. I'd wake her
later to let her dress and go home. She told me earlier that her
mother would be waiting up for her.
**********************************************************************
< At the time, I didn't try to analyze what I was doing or why I was
doing it. All that mattered was that I loved this beautiful young
lady, and she loved me. >
< In case you're wondering, my 'morals' had been greatly adjusted by
my experiences in the far east. Since I wasn't a regular tourist, it
went without saying that there were many places I got to that weren't,
shall we say, perfectly acceptable to western ideals. More than a few
times I was propositioned by girls who were, by my poor estimate, no
more than ten or eleven. Fifteen seemed to be about the median age in
these areas. The only time I indulged, though, was in the classier
massage parlours, where the management could guarantee me that the
girl of choice was at least sixteen. They may have mislead me once or
twice, but I did try to stay somewhat close to my parent's values. >
< These were the girls I learned massage from. Somehow they had a
difficult time believing that someone could pay full price for a girl
to do *anything*, but then, after a brief session of lovemaking, want
to learn their arts. Strange but true. They certainly enjoyed my
efforts, since theirs was the only body I had available to practice
on. I enjoyed myself immensely. You wouldn't believe how many
different techniques are employed in all the cities between Djakarta
and Sapporo. I tried to make certain the girl was *well* satisfied
before I left, since I usually asked for her again if I returned to
the same place. It made for a much more enjoyable session the second
time around. Of course, massage wasn't the only thing I learned from
them. >
< Oh, right, sorry for rambling on there, but those were times I
remember with a great deal of fondness and joy. >
< Getting back to my story, it's about time I explained what happened
the next day, Saturday. You see, I'd forgotten that my sister was
about to move in with me, and I never mentioned it to anyone, so ... >
**********************************************************************
<<End of chapter 2>>
Next chapter - A sister's surprise, spies, a crisis
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Public Praise: alt.sex.stories.d email: "Bombadil" stbush@iglou.com
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