Message-ID: <526eli$9704141511@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: Path: qz!news.accessus.net!not-for-mail X-Path-Preload: news.accessus.net preloaded to thwart rogue canceller there Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: Subject: BOMBADIL: "Brenda - A Love Story" 2/9 From: S THOMAS BUSH Brenda - A Love Story [ M/f f/f ] 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. "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 has made it clear that she 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. Since then, Brenda, Will, and I have had quite a few arguments, but she has her mind made up. If we say no, she's made it clear that her second choice is either the football team or the baseball team. I *thought* she was joking, but she didn't smile or laugh when she said that. Brenda gave us a choice, and we would rather she have her chance with you than do something stupid in retaliation." It took a few seconds for me to absorb that shock. "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 over the course of those 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 was I supposed to say. She just bared her soul, and I didn't know if it was within me to give her what she wanted. "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. Could 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 there, 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 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 the 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 that, everything. Just imagining it 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 needed to adjust 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 that choice. She went home at eight, promising that the next day, 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. That 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 or 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. That 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 that. 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 she wore 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. Her outfit showed off all her assets, including her long luscious legs, nice waist, petite breasts, and, my favorite, that tight, round backside. If Brenda had dressed like that 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 that 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 any of it. "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 the moment was simply too powerful to ever be repeated in my lifetime. That intense period 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 that? I pulled back from her for a moment. I needed to breathe. It was either 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. That was something new for both of us, and it was a bit scary. I had no idea how much this person could affect me until then, and the result was frightening in it's intensity. No person in my life had stirred up those emotions, whether lovers or family. For her, everything was new, untasted and unknown. I had to bring down the heat a little, or I really would have scared her. It was tough reigning in my hormones. We did eventually have dinner, curled up on the couch, watching the sunset again. 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, 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 made a mental note 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 ever heard that sound 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 aureole 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. Those 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, 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. That, I denied myself, for the moment. It was simply too much fun exploring the rest of her beautiful body. My mouth was not idle during that 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 a slow pace, but it was for her pleasure, so I did. If I pushed too fast or too hard, I might have scared 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 was 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 that 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 then. 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 hand 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, 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 increased in intensity, becoming harder and faster, but only moved a few inches back and forth. I let her get herself off, rocking and swiveling 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 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 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?" " 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 - 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 favorites. 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 and leaned over my cock. Using her tongue, she lapped up the few drops of pre-cum, rolling them around in her mouth before swallowing. With one motion she was again taking over half my cock in her mouth. This time, she started a slow bobbing motion, sliding up and down my shaft. The conversation had distracted me from what was happening, but suddenly 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, as well as its 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. The 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. I knew if she kept it up, she'd find out first-hand what semen tasted like. Brenda started 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 mouth. She pulled back a bit again, catching her breath, then tilted her head a bit farther and pushed down again. That 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, 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 it 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 that was in Puson, and that girl was an expert. I've had plenty of blow jobs since Puson, but never had anyone go right down on me. Guys, if you've ever had this done to you, you know exactly how I felt. 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 the 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-favorite 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 favorite 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 that, her lips stayed tightly closed. Using both hands, I opened her up to view her hidden treasures. That 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. After a short pause to lap up some more dribbles, I circled back the other way, caught a few more drops, then went back again. When I gave her one broad stroke from hole to hole to pick up a little stream, I had to hold her down so she wouldn't throw me off the bed with her hips. She liked it. 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 an inch deep. 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 juice and cream. Sometimes it was hard to keep the 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 couldn't throw me off, and kept licking up her cream. It 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, 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 end 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-fucking 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. That sent her over hard again, but this time I didn't let up, and she stayed arched, occasionally gasping for air, her 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 was 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 those areas. The only time I indulged, though, was in the classier massage parlors, 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. > < Those 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 ... > ********************************************************************** <> Next chapter - A sister's surprise, spies, a crisis (No way this would be their last time together. It was just too much fun, at least for Brenda. Besides, poor Richard was left with a woody and blue balls. Would anyone else be joining in later, though? And what about that slip of the tongue about Vicky? Something to watch for. Later on, things heat up considerably - literally!) -- +--------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `------------+ | story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us | story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us | | Archive site +--------------------+------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | \ .../assm/faq.html> /