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 Archive name: jailbait.txt (mf,teen)
 Authors name: Jenny Wanshel
 Story title : CALL ME JAILBAIT

 -------------------------------------------------------
                  (c) Copyright 1998
 This work is copyrighted to the author, with all rights
 reserved. -- This work may be archived and displayed on
 non-commercial web sites without permission, but please
 do not remove the author name or address. Thank you
 -------------------------------------------------------

 Call Me Jailbait (fm, teen/adult, size) 
 by Jenny Wanshel (chilly2@biosys.net)


 It was the year I got my first C-cup bra. I had been
 itching and uncomfortable in the chest for months, and
 sometimes the straps left painful red welts.

 When we went shopping for a new bra the saleslady
 immediately saw that I had been squeezing into a B-cup
 for too long and I was overdue to move up to a bigger
 cup size. 

 "Goodness, you're as big as me now," my mother said. 

 It was a lot more comfortable. I knew when I got to
 school I was going to be the only girl in my 9th grade
 class with a C-cup, and the fact that my blouse was
 suddenly sticking out another inch would be noticed. I
 was a little embarrassed, but also proud.

 I'm embarrassed to admit it, but most of the time I
 secretly enjoyed it when boys made a big deal about my
 chest and girls looked at it enviously. It started in
 the 7th grade, and it has never let up. I'm still in
 school -- I teach now -- and the boys still devote a
 generous portion of their classtime to the study of my
 mammary glands.

 I was a 15 year old non-virgin in those days. I had
 had sex with 4 different boys, and it hadn't been
 particularly great with any of them, although I had
 tried maybe a dozen times with the most recent. 

 I had come once during foreplay in the front seat of a
 boy's car while he rubbed me through my panties, but
 that was the only time I had ever come with a boy, and
 in fact I had only come a few times while masturbating
 myself.

 The new 34C bra was sensible white cotton underwear.
 Later, when I was visiting my best friend Cindy and
 told her about my new size, she got really interested
 and suggested I get a pushup bra and see if I had
 cleavage. 

 As her Mom was a 34C like me, and was out shopping, we
 snuck into her bedroom and borrowed one of her pushup
 bras and I tried it on. When I looked in the mirror I
 was impressed with the results. There was a nice, well-
 defined cleft between my breasts. I had cleavage.  

 I was finally a woman. Actually, I had told myself this
 before when I had my first period, and then when I lost
 my virginity, and then when I had my first orgasm. I
 had that "now I'm really a woman" feeling again when I
 saw the way my tits looked in that pushup bra. 

 That was the year I had my first older man. It was a
 couple of months later, getting on toward summer
 vacation. His name was Bruce. He was the husband of my
 mother's old school friend Alice, and they came out to
 visit for a long weekend. He was tall, and handsome,
 and dark-haired.  He had a muscular build, but not like
 a body-builder, just sort of tapered. 

 It was crush at first sight. I had never met him before
 and something went *twing* inside me. Miss Pussy woke
 up and said meow. Alice hugged me and introduced Bruce
 and he shook my hand and the touch of his hand was like
 being touched by God. He smiled at me and I went weak
 inside. 

 Well, everyone was rushing in and out shopping and
 doing touristy things and no one paid much attention
 to me. The first chance I got to talk to Bruce alone
 I flirted with him. He drove me somewhere with Alice
 and we talked in the car. He was intelligent and
 charming and nice. 

 I'm sure Alice noticed that I was dripping for him, but
 I didn't care. She wasn't giving me any scratch your
 eyes out signals, although Bruce told me later that she
 had threatened to scratch his eyes out if he messed
 around with me. I think the fact that everyone except
 Bruce still saw me as the little kid with braces,
 instead of the girl with the biggest tits in her class
 (how could they not notice?), blinded Alice and my
 parents to what was going on.

 The next morning Bruce was up early and was helping my
 little brother play a game on the computer terminal in
 the den. No sign of Alice or my parents, so I rushed
 through a very quick shower and lazily sauntered into
 the den where they were playing, wearing nothing but a
 towel around my torso and another around my hair.

 Bruce could see my legs up to my butt, and a little
 cleavage peaking out at the top of my towel. My little
 brother was too riveted by the game to pay any atten-
 tion to me.

 I wasn't wearing my glasses, and this was the first
 time Bruce had seen me without them. They tended to
 make me look a bit owlish, I felt at the time, and I
 could see well enough to do anything but read without
 them.

 I made idle chit-chat with Bruce while he checked me
 out. I could tell he knew I was flirting with him, and
 he didn't try to hide that he was admiring my body. I
 made an excuse to lean over my little brother and hiked
 up the towel in back a little more, so that Bruce could
 see all the way up to the beginning of my ass. I was
 not wearing any underwear, and I did my best to make
 sure he could tell.

 I spent at least half an hour flirting with him and
 managed to go upstairs and change without being seen
 by my parents or his wife. We couldn't really say any-
 thing in front of my little brother but I could tell
 that he liked me and was attracted. I didn't care
 about Alice, or the fact that he was married, in the
 least. 

 That night we were all playing a card game and I asked
 if someone could drive me to the store, looking
 straight at Bruce. I was hoping we could be alone and
 maybe park somewhere on the way back, and nature would
 take its course and he would kiss me (I hoped). 

 Alice (who had been distracted) said "What is she
 asking?" and Bruce said (in a very odd voice) "She
 wants someone to take her to the store," in a voice
 that made it sound like I was a bratty little kid
 pestering everybody, and my Mom looked up and said,
 "What do you need, dear?" and I flushed and said
 "Never mind, I'll get it tomorrow." 

 As soon as I could do so I made an excuse and left the
 table. I was so self-conscious, I felt like a big
 spotlight was shining on me and that Alice and my
 parents and everybody had seen right through my trans-
 parent attempt to get Bruce off alone. 

 Of course, as I did not realize until later, my Mom and
 Alice thought I needed tampons and that that was why I
 was acting funny and had to excuse myself, so I was in
 the clear.

 I figured I wasn't fated to be kissed by Bruce after
 all, but two days later I got another chance. My Dad,
 Mom and sister went to church and Alice went with them,
 while Bruce slept in. Mom leaned in my doorway (I was
 still in bed) and told me they were going and asked me
 to make Bruce some breakfast when he got up. She gave
 me this look, like don't you try anything, but I guess
 she wasn't very worried about it.

 So they all drove off except for Bruce and my little
 brother, and then I heard the door slam as my little
 brother went off to play with his friends down the
 block. He shouted that he was going over to Jimmy's or
 whatever the kid's name was, and I was pretty certain
 he would be gone for a couple of hours. So Bruce and I
 were alone at last, and I hadn't done anything to bring
 it about. Thank you God, I said to myself. 

 I quickly got out of bed and made myself pretty. I was
 still in my pajamas and I decided to just lose the
 pajama bottom and show my legs, so off it came. My
 pajama top came down far enough to almost cover my
 butt. I was not wearing a bra, and I pinched my nipples
 to make them stand out through my top. 

 Then I went in and woke up Bruce. 

 He was asleep. He was covered up to his chest by a
 blanket and was wearing a t-shirt. I stood at the edge
 of the fold-out bed, and poked him. He rubbed his eyes
 and woke up, and I giggled at him. 

 He could see see my thighs all the way up to my under-
 pants. I had checked myself out in the mirror and I
 knew what he was seeing -- my fat pussy mound was
 bulging out in my tight panties. I had been having a
 growth spurt down there in my ass/hips/pussy region,
 and the old mons veneris was clearly outlined. 

 Bruce didn't notice at first, as he was waking up and
 rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. I turned on a lamp.
 
 He did notice then. He got a good look at my plump
 thighs and my tight underpants and my braless chest.

 I climbed on top of him in the bed, straddling him, and
 rubbed his scratchy beard growth playfully and said
 "Get up, sleepyhead. I'm supposed to get you some
 breakfast."

 "Where is everybody?"

 "They've all gone to church, except for my brother, and
 he's gone out to play, so we're all alone." Hint, hint.
 I couldn't make it any plainer than that. 

 He took the hint. He had a big smiling grin on his face
 and he tousled my hair and said, "Alright then, why
 don't you make some breakfast. I'll go wash my face and
 come down in a minute." I was sorry he didn't grab me
 then -- we were only alone for a couple of hours and
 time was wasting -- but I went downstairs and he quick-
 ly shaved and splashed some water on his face and
 combed his hair and came down. 

 On the way I ducked into my room and grabbed a very
 tight tank-top t-shirt with a really low cut neckline
 and put it on under my pajama top, and then opened the
 top 2 or 3 buttons on my top. Then I said what the
 hell, and opened all of them except the last button.
 
 I started breakfast -- nothing complicated since I
 couldn't cook much and didn't want to waste any of our
 time on food. I was leaning over the stove, and when
 Bruce came in I bent way over to get something I didn't
 really need out of a low cabinet, in order to show off
 my panty-clad ass.

 "Breakfast will be ready in 5 minutes," I said, clear-
 ing my throat, and turned around to smile at him. He
 was leaning against the doorway and he was still in his
 underwear. His top was just a tight t-shirt, which
 showed off his fine chest muscles, and his under-
 pants --. Well. His underpants were just a jock strap.
 I didn't even know what it was called, although I had
 seen one before. It was what guys wore in the locker
 room, I knew. It didn't leave much to the imagination.

 He had big, muscular legs, and strong thighs. His legs
 were just slightly hairy, but not really hairy if you
 know what I mean. And he had a big cylindrical bulge
 in his jock strap. It looked like he had a flashlight
 in there or something. If boys had cup sizes in their
 underwear he would definitely have been a D-cup.

 He stood there in the doorway like he was posing for
 me, which he was. I could see his big heavy balls
 outlined in his underwear. He had clearly just gotten
 up and he was just as decent as I was, I guess, since
 I was standing there with my underpants showing too.

 I stared at him and then I wanted him to come closer
 so I could get a better look, all thoughts of allowing
 him to get a better look at me forgotten. I wished I
 had my glasses on.

 "We have a few minutes while the water boils," I said.
 "Why don't you come in the living room?" I walked past
 him through the doorway and brushed his arm with my
 hand as I passed, and he followed me. I sat down on the
 floor, on the Persian rug, sitting crosslegged so that
 my panties were plainly visible. 

 Bruce sat on the floor across from me, one leg doubled
 up, with his crotch against the carpet and the big
 bulge in his white cotton underwear sticking out where
 I could see it perfectly well. I casually stretched out
 one leg and spread my thighs wider to expose more of
 the crotch of my panties, hoping that they were tight
 enough that my pussy would be outlined. I was trying to
 give him a good eyeful. 

 His eyes flicked from my face down to my panties and
 back again, and he bit his lower lip in a sort of rue-
 ful boyish way. I was keeping an eye on his briefs
 while trying to watch him checking out mine, and I
 noticed that the sexy bulge in his jock strap jerked a
 little. 

 I pretended to yawn and stretch, fluffing my hair and
 thrusting my bust out as far as I could, the way I'd
 practiced in front of the mirror. My shirt could barely
 contain my braless tits, the big masses shifting around
 inside my t-shirt as I stretched.

 I looked and saw his bulge twitch again. It was getting
 bigger as I watched. And bigger.

 I was fascinated. There was clearly some kind of
 hydraulics involved and it reminded me of the time I
 visited a horse farm and watched a stallion getting
 ready to service a mare. When he got a whiff of the
 mare's pussy (she was in season) this big long thing
 suddenly just *grew* between his legs, shooting out
 like a length of fire hose and stiffening into a long
 pole the size of a baseball bat. If my friend Brenda
 hadn't been there I would have reached out and touched
 it, to feel what it felt like. It wasn't until years
 later that I realized that she had probably felt the
 stallion's erection herself, when no one was around to
 see, and I could have just asked.
 
 I forced myself to stop staring at Bruce's erection,
 and looked at his face. He was flushed, or maybe he
 was blushing. I couldn't decide. I was as cool as a
 cucumber, because I knew exactly what I wanted. He was
 the one who was nervous.

 We made small talk about something inconsequential and
 I made playful reference to how big and strong he was
 and asked if I could feel his muscles, and then I
 crawled up next to him and felt them. He smelled good,
 up close. Or maybe it was just our hormones. While I
 squeezed his big muscles and giggled I felt my pussy
 starting to get excited and swollen.

 He was making dry, mocking little jokes at me and
 wasn't starting anything. I decided I would have to do
 something to get the ball rolling, so I sort of dared
 him to wrestle me, by asking if he thought he was
 strong enough to pin me down. Well, we mock-wrestled
 for a minute and I flipped over and wriggled out of
 his grasp, slippery as an eel. 

 He grabbed me and rolled back, so that I fell across
 his chest, and I reached down to grab his leg and as I
 did so my hand accidentally brushed against his crotch
 and I felt his bulge. Ohmigod, it was big and hard and
 warm. I didn't touch it on purpose and I was mortified
 thinking that he might think I had.

 While I was still trying to get my breath back and stop
 blushing after my accidental grope when he flipped me
 over, and then all of a sudden there I was lying pinned
 on my back, and he was on top of me. His hands were
 pinning my shoulders down and his thighs were pressing
 against mine, and I could feel that big jock strap
 thing pressing against my tummy. 

 As he held me down and I giggled and shrieked and I
 felt his big bulge touching me, he slowly began sliding
 down until I could feel his warm erection rubbing my
 timid muff right through my panties. 

 He had me pinned down, and my now unbuttoned pajama top
 had fallen away to the sides. My firm breasts were
 perfectly outlined by my tight t-shirt with my hard
 nipples sticking up like thimbles. He looked at them,
 and looked at me, and I was breathing hard and without
 a word he slowly rubbed his full jock strap against me,
 through my panties.

 I could feel his big hard banana in there. He had a
 full, rock hard erection now. I was getting moist down
 there, and the little man in the boat was going to be
 afloat pretty soon. I spread my thighs apart and he
 just sort of fell in between them, with his thing lay-
 ing right in my groove and bumping my clit.

 "You are so strong," I said (once I got my breath),
 since with only two thin layers of cotton separating
 our genitals we were still pretending that we were just
 wrestling, and that the fact that our things were
 rubbing against each other was just an accident. "Why
 don't you take that t-shirt off so I can see how big
 your muscles are?" 

 "Okay", he said. He took his hands off me for a minute
 and I tried to break free, without success. Then he
 stripped off his top and I could see his big shoulders
 and his brawny chest. 

 "Oh my. You're so manly," I teased. What a hunk, I was
 thinking, as I admired his gorgeous body. He was now
 entirely naked except for his jock strap. My pussy was
 very excited. I don't think it had ever dripped this
 hot and wet for any male before. I could feel a damp
 spot in my panties and I wondered if he could smell my
 lubrication.

 "Now it's your turn. You have to take your shirt off
 so I can see your muscles," he laughed.

 "Let me sit up," I said, and when he did I took off
 the pajama shirt, in a teasing, strip-tease sort of
 way.

 He took in the way my tight little undershirt stretched
 over my tits and smiled and licked his lips. I tugged
 the shirt down taut to show my cleavage, and since he
 was watching with a big smile I smirked at him and
 teased him by pulling it down tight even farther, a
 couple more inches. I had about four inches of cleavage
 showing, and if I went any farther my nipple would pop
 out. I leaned forward with my arms pinning my breasts
 together, and the chasm between my tits was like a
 canyon.

 "How's that?" I teased in a soft, sultry voice.

 "It's no fair," he laughed. "You've got another shirt
 on underneath. You have to take off that one, too."

 "Noooo way! I can't," I giggled. 

 "Why not? I took off mine and showed you my chest," he
 said with a grin.

 "Because then you could see my --" dramatic pause -- "
 breasts." I was looking him in the eyes and kind of
 daring him to go farther. 

 "What breasts, you little tomboy?"

 "The breasts you've been staring at. For god's sake,
 I'm not even wearing a bra. You can see everything."

 "I think I'll have a look for myself," he said. Then
 he jokingly grabbed my t-shirt and started to peel it
 off. I fought back as ineffectively as I could, and let
 him win. As I let him strip it off I shrieked and
 covered my naked tits with my hands, crossing my arms
 over my chest.

 "You can't see them. No." I said.

 "We'll see about that," he replied. He started
 wrestling with me again, and he pushed me back down
 and got on top of me, as I defended my breasts. Then
 he firmly peeled my hands off my chest and pinned them
 back, and my creamy jugs were naked to his gaze. 

 He took in my titties appreciatively. "That's a big
 pair of breasts you have there, Jenny."

 "Thank you." I blushed. Probably only 8 or 9 boys had
 ever seen them, and he was the first grown man other
 than a doctor or my father (by accident). 

 "You're bigger than Alice, I think." Alice wore padded
 bras and even with the padding she wasn't as big as me.

 "Yes, I think so." (Touch them! I tried to telepath at
 him.)
 
 "What do the boys call you at school?"

 I blushed furiously. "They used to call me The Bosom.
 That started in the 7th grade. Some of them call me
 W.W., which is short for Windshield Wipers." 

 Bruce raised an eyebrow. "I've heard them called head-
 lights, but I've never heard them called windshield
 wipers before."

 "It's because of my last name, Wanshel. Get it? Kids
 have been calling me "Windshield" since I was in
 elementary school, and when these things started grow-
 ing on my chest they decided they were my windshield
 wipers."

 "I take it you were bigger than the other girls."

 "Yes. I was probably the only girl in the 7th grade
 who needed a real bra instead of a training bra. One
 of the girls used to take the locker next to mine so
 she could stare. She asked me what I did to make them
 grow so big."

 "And are they still growing?"

 "Of course. I just moved up to a C-cup," I said
 proudly. "I'll probably be a D before I graduate, and
 I hope it levels off then, because DD would be just
 too big." (As it happened, I got my wish and did level
 off at a D-cup size, a few years later.)

 "You've got nice big nipples, too. Are they always that
 hard?"

 "Oh, they're not that hard." They were so hard they
 hurt, actually.

 Holding both of my hands with one of his he tweaked my
 nipples with his free hand, and I almost died. It was
 like heaven feeling him touch me there. I think I must
 have turned red in the face and gasped. He was breath-
 ing hard too.

 "Oh, god. Nobody ever touched me like that before," I
 said.

 "I don't believe it. I bet a few boys have felt them."
 
 "Well, maybe a few." It didn't feel like the times I
 got groped before, at all, except maybe for the first
 time I felt a boy's hand under my bra, which was a big
 surprise -- not just having a hand there, but that it
 felt good. "I'm not very sexually experienced. You can
 touch them some more, if you want." He fully intended
 to, anyway.
 
 He stroked them softly, and my mouth fell open and I
 panted out loud at the intoxicating sensation of his
 big masculine hands making love to my breasts. After
 stroking them for a bit he began to squeeze and knead
 them, and it felt wonderful and sexy. My nipples stuck
 out farther than I knew they could. 

 Meanwhile, things were gushing right along down in the
 crotch area. He was lying between my legs again (guess
 I must have opened them) and he had started this slow
 sliding up and down motion, along my groove, and my
 panties were getting soaked. In fact they were really
 slippery as my vagina seemed to be drooling and he was
 slipping right up and down in my slot. 

 I had been humping back against him rhythmically with-
 out even realizing it, and now I started to do it de-
 liberately, because it felt good. 
 
 I reached behind him and touched his ass. His jock
 strap left most of his gorgeous buttocks uncovered and
 I couldn't resist clutching them while he pawed my
 tits. I got two handfuls of his magnificent butt and
 pulled him in tight as he thrust.

 My clit was sticking out hard in my panties, between
 the lips of my engorged and inflamed pussy. His whole
 length was rubbing it as we humped against each other.
 It was driving me wild.
			
 Then he put his hand down and stroked me from my knees
 up the length of my plump thighs all the way to my
 clit, and I nearly came right then. I gasped a little. 

 So this is what adult sex is really like, I thought.
 Not like that unsatisfying sticky fumbling in Mike
 Barnard's basement, when he shot come all over my
 dress, or the painful experience I had, letting an
 older boy break my tight little cherry on the ratty
 old couch in his basement rec room, one day after
 school. This was the real thing, a man and a woman. 

 If this kept up I was going to experience the ecstasy
 that I had read about in books. I first learned about
 orgasms from a smutty Harold Robbins novel I found
 hidden in my Mom's closet, which I read while sitting
 in a pile of shoes, right there in her closet with the
 door closed, fondling myself under my pleated skirt
 during the good parts. When the spoiled, frigid
 American rich girl got her clothes ripped off by the
 virile Italian peasant and her naked boobies gleamed
 in the moonlight and he forced himself on her until
 she gasped "yes" and had her big O, I had my first big
 O too, masturbating in that stuffy little walk-in
 closet until it happened, two weeks after my 14th
 birthday.

 I wanted to get fucked like the women in books. I
 looked at Bruce and I couldn't form the words "fuck me
 please" with my mouth, but I thought them. I put my
 lips to his ear but I couldn't say it. My mouth was
 dry, my heart was pounding in my chest, and nothing
 came out but a moan and a little whimper.

 I guess he knew what I wanted, because he rolled off
 me and in one swift move he grabbed my underpants by
 the waistband and peeled them right off. I had to
 scoot my bottom up a bit to let him accomplish this,
 so I guess he knew at that point that I was cooperating
 and I was not going to cry rape. I was only 15 and he
 was over 30 so it was statutory rape anyway, but I
 doubt I realized that then. 

 My naked chestnut-brown muff lay open to his gaze. I
 crossed my legs tightly and covered my pubic hair with
 my hands, squealing "oh, no!" and again he peeled my
 hands off and got between my legs and spread them
 apart. 

 And then I quit pretending to fight him and shyly
 spread them out wider, so he could do what he was going
 to do. 

 He was kneeling there between my arched, spread legs
 and I saw his jock strap again. And I didn't even know
 to be impressed by what I saw, because his dick was
 sticking right out of the top of his briefs and it was
 huge. It looked twice the size of the dicks on the
 boys I had been with. The head was big and thick around
 and sort of plum colored, and the shaft was reddish,
 down to where it disappeared into his strap. 

 And then he peeled off his strap and let it hang out,
 and it sort of jumped out with a spring and hung
 dangling in the air between his thighs. It was too damn
 big and heavy to stand up straight. It was the biggest
 penis I had ever seen.

 I've only been with four or five really big-dicked,
 well-hung men in my life, and he was the first. I
 honestly did not have any idea that there was such a
 thing as a big penis, except on a horse. I didn't have
 any idea what I was supposed to do. This may hurt a
 little, I thought.

 Miss Pussy did not register a protest by clamping up
 and going dry, so I guess it didn't scare her. It was
 beautiful to look at. It was perfectly tapered and
 molded, hard and flaming pink, with a graceful helmet
 curving into a faint slit at the end. 

 His big penis seemed to be looming over me and I
 reached out my hand and touched it. It was hard and
 velvety. It twitched and I jerked my hand back in
 surprise. 

 I wondered how it could possibly fit in me and I
 remembered an expression I heard a girl at camp use
 once, "like fitting a two by four through a keyhole".
 
 He leaned forward and started to rub the head of the
 big shaft against my slot, and I sort of went "oooh"
 and closed my eyes and started to drift away. So this
 is womanhood, I thought. I am about to get fucked by a
 big-dicked man. 

 I decided that all adult males must be that size, since
 I had only been with boys before. I was surprised and
 not a little disappointed later to discover that this
 was not the case. 

 Bruce continued to pet my pussy luxuriously while he
 put his mouth on my breasts and sucked. I was sensitive
 and tender there, and it was like lightning hit my
 nipples. His tongue flicked across my breasts and
 lapped up the sides of my nipples.
 
 He continued to stroke my cunt alternately with his
 hand and his dick, warming my clit up to the point
 where I thought I would go crazy. I felt the big smooth
 shaft slipping past the mouth of my wet hole. My pussy
 was sucking wetly at it, trying to suck him in. 

 He played with my breasts and reached around and
 fondled my ass and our bodies writhed and entwined and
 we rutted against each other.

 Just when I thought I would go mad if I had to wait any
 longer for him to put it in, he kneeled back so that
 he was between my legs with the head of his dick
 against me, and started to put it in.

 I felt his hard knob touch the rim of my hole. My pussy
 lips were spread, my hole was gaping eagerly open as
 far as an inexperienced schoolgirl's hole could gape,
 and I could feel my juices drooling into my crack and
 running down my ass, but the knob on the end of his
 dick was wider than my hole.

 It was a tight fit. It didn't want to go in at first,
 but we both wanted it to go in. I wanted him to get it
 inside me as much as I had ever wanted anything in my
 life. So with a little straining and grunting -- "Is
 this okay?" he asked -- "Yes! Go ahead!" I panted --
 the head started to go in a little further on each try.
 
 At first maybe only a quarter of an inch went in, then
 I stretched a little and maybe half an inch of the head
 went in. If my parents come home before he gets it in
 I'll die, I thought.

 I lay back and rested the soles of my feet on his
 thighs, to open myself up more. Just like at the
 gynecologist with my feet in the stirrups. He grabbed
 my hips with his hands and pulled me against him, which
 was a deliciously heady sensation but didn't get him
 in any deeper. I reached down with my hand and held
 his dick and tried to guide it into me. It was very
 hard, and so thick around that my hand would not go
 around it.  

 I think we got a better angle at that point, or some-
 thing, because it did slip in further, and I felt this
 big stretchy thing invading me, like the way it felt
 when I lost my cherry at the ripe young age of 12.
 
 Then I leaned back and relaxed and let him do it, and
 after a little while of poking back and forth I felt
 the head slip all the way in. 

 Once the head was in the rest should have been easy,
 since I was not a virgin, but it was so damn big. I
 didn't say "Oh, you're so big" while we were were doing
 this because I assumed he was normal and I was just
 an inexperienced, tight little girl who had been fool-
 ing around with adolescent boys in the training bra
 stage of penis development. I was only 15 and I really
 didn't know any better.

 Now that he had the knob past the first barrier he was
 able to stroke in and out a little, just the first inch
 or so, and I was stretching a bit wider to accommodate
 him. It was uncomfortable at first, like if you open
 your mouth as wide as you can to try to swallow some-
 thing too big for it -- that's what it feels like. 

 I was worried about my parents coming home but we had
 all the time in the world. I had forgotten about the
 water boiling away on the stove, but there was no harm
 done except to the finish on the pot, fortunately.

 Bruce proceeded slowly and tenderly, taking his time,
 not forcing it, letting me open up and take more of
 him in. 

 I wanted him to fuck me and he smelled so sexy. My
 first grown man. I felt like I was in love. He went in
 and out of the first inch of my pussy for a while, and
 when I opened up a little more he went in deeper. And
 then I was getting stroked with two inches. This went
 on inch by inch, and I went back and forth between
 moments of painful discomfort and near ecstasy. 

 When I felt him stretching the walls of my vagina I
 began to wonder if a girl my age getting herself
 fucked by a grown man was such a good idea. 

 I was afraid he was going to tear me and I would bleed,
 but I didn't want him to stop. I looked at his big dick
 when it popped out and the wetness glistening on it was
 just my natural juices, no blood, so I relaxed. 

 I wonder today at Bruce's staying power in my tight
 teenage twat. He was a married man and I guess he had
 had plenty of practice, because he was able to keep it
 up and keep going until I was finally relaxed and open
 all the way and he went in as far as he could. I didn't
 know if he was bottoming out at the bottom of my pussy,
 or if he was at the end of his seemingly endless dick,
 but he was finally in me up to the hilt. 

 That big thing hadn't split me in half after all.

 He lay on me, breathing hard, and I wrapped my legs
 around him and hugged him in triumph. Big girl, with
 a big man inside her. 

 Then he finally kissed me. I had been waiting for it
 and his mouth was finally on mine. Our kiss was long
 and sweet, and I pushed my tongue into his mouth and
 he pushed his tongue into mine and we sucked hungrily
 at each other. It was like our faces were clamped
 together. 

 He lay still inside me and my pussy adjusted to his
 size. His hairy groin rutted against mine gently and
 bumped my clitoris in a very nice way. I felt his big
 balls tickling my ass, and reached down to feel them.
 They were like two eggs in a sack. 

 "Are you ready?" he said, raising himself on his hands
 and peeling our sticky, sweaty bodies slightly apart.

 "Ready for what?" I asked. I did have the vague feeling
 that since I hadn't even known how big adult men's
 penises were there might be something coming I needed
 to be ready for. 

 "This," he said.

 And then he pulled himself almost all the way out of
 my pussy, till I could feel his plummy head spreading
 my lips, and then slowly pushed all the way back in.
 And then he went all the way in and back out again, and
 proceeded to fuck me in and out, slowly and gently.
 (Oh, ready for that, I thought.)

 His big dick slid up and down in my pussy, smooth and
 sweet. It was like a velvet piledriver. I lay back,
 spread my legs and enjoyed it. It felt so strong and
 powerful inside me. I started to fuck him back,
 hesitantly at first, pushing my pubic mound up to meet
 him on the down strokes.

 He pulled my legs up so that my ankles were next to my
 ears, resting against his shoulders, and he pulled my
 ass up to him and slid in really deep, and banged me
 in the cervix. Ow! I told him to stop and we went back
 to missionary position. 

 He resumed his slow, rhythmic humping of my soft pussy
 and kissed me while we fucked. 

 We went on fucking like that for a while and it felt
 better and better and we kissed some more and he played
 with my breasts. I was beginning to wonder if I might
 even have an orgasm, after all.

 As I got more relaxed and into it he slowly increased
 his speed and strength, fucking me harder and faster.
 
 "Is this okay?" he asked.

 "It's okay," I whispered. "Fuck me hard, darling." 

 "I don't want to hurt you, sweetheart." (He called me
 sweetheart!)

 "You're not hurting me. It's wonderful."

 He fucked harder. This big male stud was fucking my
 brains out. I closed my eyes, and as he rode me I
 fantasized that he was a horse, a big black stallion,
 that had mounted me, and I was a frightened little mare
 feeling him go deep, deep inside her. I was making
 little shivering noises in my throat and trembling as
 we made love. 

 Our bodies were locked tightly together and I felt
 like I was starting to sweat like a pig. Mother always
 said "a lady doesn't sweat, she glows", so I guess I
 was glowing like a lady.

 Not only had I never been with a boy with a dick this
 big, I had never been with one who had real staying
 power and stamina. I figured later that he must have
 been inside me, pumping in and out continuously as we
 fucked on the floor, for over half an hour.

 That was a record for me. Two boys had come in my hand
 before they even got in, and two minutes seemed about
 the standard once you got a boy inside you, if you were
 lucky.

 It was the first time I had screwed on a floor. I was
 getting rugburns on my ass and didn't realize it until
 later, when it hurt.
 
 Bruce was pounding into me like a jackhammer now,
 breathing hard and grunting. I was grunting and
 squealing with my heels in the air. I could barely
 walk straight afterward, but at that moment it was
 heaven. 

 I was making noise, whimpering things like "Yes, Bruce,
 yes! Oh god, yes, oh god. More. Don't stop! Fuck me."
 I had noticed in books that the woman was supposed to
 say things like this when a man had sex with her, and
 moan a lot. The moans were coming without any effort
 as he was opening up places inside me where no man had
 gone before (as Captain Kirk used to say).

 His big shaft kept plowing into me, stroke after stroke
 after stroke. I was humping back hard with my pussy
 without even thinking about it, raising my ass a little
 above the floor, fucking him back as hard as I could.

 Oh god, that big dick of his. I get swoony just think-
 ing about it, even today. I was not even trying to
 come, I was just fucking on automatic pilot without
 even thinking about it. 

 After longer than I had known sex could last, I
 gradually began to get that feeling down there that
 I did not yet know very well, like something was going
 to happen, like a sneeze or needing to pee or something
 swelling to bursting. It was coming closer and closer,
 and I knew what was coming and I couldn't stop it even
 if I had wanted to. 

 Part of me was saying "no, not yet, wait, wait, hold
 back" to the explosion that I felt coming on, and then
 I couldn't stop it from going off any longer and it
 burst, gloriously. 
 
 I said "OH! OMIGOD! OH!!!" very loudly, not really a
 scream, and clamped my legs and arms around him very
 hard and panted into his shoulder and he kept fucking
 me steadily and I just came and came. 

 It was not a multiple orgasm. It was one long drawn-
 out orgasm, with peaks and valleys, that kept going
 even higher each time it crested. I honestly thought
 I might faint if he didn't stop, and he didn't stop.
 God, it was wonderful. It was only the fifth or sixth
 orgasm I had had in my life and it was far and away
 the best, then and for years afterward. My pussy was
 throbbing and spasming so hard that tears were coming
 to my eyes.

 The earth moved, the heavens opened, and if space
 aliens had picked that moment to blow up the world,
 it wouldn't have seemed very important.

 It took a few minutes for me to come back to earth.
 When I calmed down and got my breath back I started
 stroking him gently with my hands, my wonderful
 stallion lover, and he was kissing me and kissing my
 breasts and stroking my thighs, and I gently floated
 down from my cloud. I felt like a new girl. 

 "I need to go put on a condom," he whispered. (If you
 think he might have noticed that I had had what was
 virtually a religious experience, and that I was no
 longer the little girl who had shown him her boobs an
 hour before, you obviously have little experience with
 men.)

 I wanted to feel him come inside me, but I was also
 afraid to get pregnant, so I said "Okay" (feebly --
 if he had wanted to come in me I would have let him,
 and worried about the consequences later. I was not in
 my right mind) and he pulled all the way out of me
 with a big wet splort! sound and made record time
 running upstairs to get a condom out of his suitcase.
 He came back and rolled it on while I watched in
 amazement (how did that tiny rubber thing fit over such
 a great big penis?) and I lay back and put my arms
 around him and we went back to fucking. 

 He started off with a steady, regular stroke and as he
 got closer to his orgasm he went wild and started
 pounding me like a madman, holding his weight off me
 with his hands on the carpet while his dick hammered
 me like crazy. He was thrusting furiously, banging me
 across the floor with my hair flailing.

 I had a mini-orgasm and another, my pussy triggering
 as he thrust, and then I felt his orgasm as he impaled
 me deep and his big throbbing dick gushed into me,
 deep inside me. I was wrapped so tight around him that
 I felt him coming like it was me, as his big thing
 swelled even bigger and then shot the condom full of
 sperm. 

 I wanted to feel his wet sticky stuff inside me,
 shooting into my little womb, but it was not to be.
 He shuddered and collapsed on me in sweaty disarray,
 and I kissed and caressed him as he came. It took
 about a minute for him to be done.

 Then, of course, we peeled ourselves apart again, and
 he went and flushed the condom down the toilet, and we
 got dressed and had breakfast. 

 I had kept my pajama top under my ass while we were
 fucking so I wouldn't leave a wet spot on the rug, but
 there was a little faint damp spot on the rug anyway,
 in a dark part of the pattern where it didn't show. I
 did my best to get it out, and sprayed the room with
 air freshener.

 We didn't talk about it much before our respective
 families got home. I couldn't say what I was think-
 ing -- I'm only half your age, you're married and I
 love you -- and I couldn't imagine what he was think-
 ing. When we heard the car in the driveway he gave me
 one long sweet kiss, and then we went back to being on
 a formal basis.

 They flew back home the next day. I didn't dare write
 him or anything. He didn't dare write or call me, if
 he wanted to, and I didn't know if he did. My teenage
 head had been completely blown by that titanic orgasm.
 I gradually realized (after crying my eyes out on
 Cindy's shoulder several times) that he was a happily
 married man who lived far away and that I had to put
 him out of my mind.

 After that I had some kind of a thing about older men
 for a while, and attempted a couple of unsuccessful
 seductions. I had just had beginner's luck with Bruce.
 It was a long time before I saw him again.

 -JW-

 * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
 KRISTEN'S LAW:
 It's okay to *READ* stories about unprotected sex with
 strangers. But it isn't okay to *HAVE* unprotected sex
 with strangers!!  You only have one body per lifetime,
 so take good care of it.  OBEY KRISTEN'S LAW AND LIVE!
 * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
 Kristen's collection - Directory 8