Message-ID: <11345eli$9805152330@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: cmndr@nym.alias.net (Commander Jameson) Subject: {ASS} RP "Newsgirl" by the BEAR (Mf, cons, teen) Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit Content-Type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: X-Original-Message-ID: <355ede80.19798125@207.14.113.10XCJ> From: al-bear@ix.netcom.com (the BEAR) Subject: REPOST BEARstory f/m - newsgirl.txt [01/01] Date: 10 Sep 1995 01:46:22 GMT -------- Hello, story-philes. It's time for another story from the BEAR. This is a totally original story created out of whole cloth. I rather like it, and I hope you do too. Please, if you don't like stories with lots of real love and devotion, or if love between an older man and a very young woman (she hates being called a girl) upsets you, or if you like lots of vulgar language, skip this one and go on to another story. If you are underaged, then you probably shouldn't be in this newsgroup. Report yourself to your parents and apologize for what you are doing right away. Then go do your homework. ************************************************************** *** Copyright (c) 1993 by the BEAR. Duplication without *** *** changes or omissions is permitted for personal, *** *** non-profit use. All other rights are reserved. *** *** [Permission may be available.] al-bear@ix.netcom.com *** ************************************************************** ******************** *** NEWSGIRL *** ******************** ONE: A Newsgirl Finds Love I was reading the newspaper the other day and read a story about a girl near my age and a man who were involved with each other. Somehow they were found out and the man got into terrible trouble. Because of my experiences, I feel like I have a good idea of what might have happened, and I am fairly sure that just as both were involved, both were to blame. To me the sadness is not in what they did, but in what happened when they were discovered. If their relationship ran anything like the one I literally fell into, things had to have been better than was speculated about in the paper. The paper had him taking advantage of her and implied that she got nothing out of their relationship at all and that she was exploited. He received full blame, and even though she wouldn't testify, he is apparently in real deep trouble anyway. I hope he gets off. My story shows that assumptions are not always true. My story needs to be told, and I have tried to tell it completely and in a way that will be interesting, and instructive. Maybe even a little arousing. My choice may not have been a wise one by conventional wisdom, but I'd never have it any other way. It all started when I was delivering papers one day, and my dumb kid brother, who was following me as usual, bumped me. I lost control of my bike and fell down real hard. I skinned my knee and bumped my head. I was scared and really feeling like I was badly hurt. I was lying there, trying to keep from crying, wondering if I had broken anything, when a man leaned over me. He spoke softly and calmly, touching me here and there, explaining what he was doing as he did it. I was still dazed, when he declared that no bones were broken. He picked me up and carried me up to the front porch of a house I later found out was his home. He told my brother to park his bike on the sidewalk out front and then made him go back and get mine and bring it up too. While my brother was doing this, he was drying my tears and giving me a more through checkup. He looked in my eyes with a flashlight, checked my ears, felt around the lump on my head so gently that even though I knew he was doing it I never felt any pain at all. Then just as my brother arrived on the porch, he pointed out that blood was soaking through the knee of my new jeans. I was upset anyway and I started crying. He told me to never mind, that he'd take care of that and fix my knee, too. He picked me up and took me inside, ordering my brother to wait outside and watch the bicycles unless he was called. He put me on the couch and told me to take off my pants. He spoke so calmly and matter of factly and with such sureness and authority that I did as he said immediately with no thought of questioning the rightness of it. He took a gauze patch out of a medical kit that he took from a closet, put something on it, put the patch on my knee and had me hold it in place. He took my pants away and was gone a few minutes. Later I found that he had washed them out in cold water to remove the bloodstains and put them in the dryer. When he came back, he took off the gauze patch and cleaned out the wound with more gauze patches and some liquid. Then he put ointment on another patch, covered the wound and taped up my knee with some kind of tape he described as a special athletic stretch tape. Then he put a pillow out, laid my head on it, and spend a few minutes talking to me. He asked me about myself, but he talked about himself in turn. I learned that he had been an athletic trainer, but had quit because although he liked the work he hadn't liked the pressure he had to work under or the methods that he had to use. While we were talking he explained that it was most important that I relax, because the way I healed would be affected by how my body reacted and was treated in the next hour or so. He then began to rub my leg around the knee, which was red and beginning to swell. He explained that he was going to massage my leg until the blood went down so that it wouldn't hurt so much and to keep the swelling down. He started around my knee, but went back and did my foot and leg, then my knee again and gradually worked up my thigh. He explained that he was stimulating circulation to prevent swelling. He showed me where and how the nerves and blood vessels ran on the inside of the leg. He told me how they were especially sensitive there and how they affected the whole body. Even as he was explaining things, though, I was enjoying his touch. I had been touched by doctors, by my mom and dad, and by others in the past for various reasons, but his hands were so gentle and yet were so strong that I loved his touch immediately. Just having his hands on me made me feel happy and comfortable and relaxed. The pain I had felt earlier had almost entirely gone away. His touch seemed to be almost magic. I was feeling warm and very very good. When he stopped, I asked him to keep it up a bit longer. He smiled and asked me if I'd like him to do the other leg. I said sure, please do. Whatever you are doing, it feels really good, and I like it a lot. So, he did. On this leg, he started at the foot instead of my knee and worked slowly back up my whole leg to the inside of my thigh, just down from my panties. It felt especially good for him to touch me there so I asked him if he could do both of my thighs at once. He laughed and asked me if I was sure. I assured him I was really sure. I was enjoying the sensations he brought to me more than anything I had ever felt before in my life. I want you to do exactly that, I said. He did. He moved his fingers gently all over the inside of my thighs, pressing, kneading and caressing. I opened my legs up all the way so he could touch me better, and I even pulled my panties up farther so he could cover more area. It felt so good that I couldn't believe it. I wondered why didn't anyone else touch like this. But then I had never imagined wanting anyone to do this kind of thing, much less would I have let them. After several minutes of this I was almost ready to moan with pleasure. He asked me if my knee was bothering me. I told him no, as long as he kept on doing what he was doing, nothing was going to bother me but his stopping. He laughed again, a little nervously it seemed. After a while he told me that he could see that there were certain nerve endings that needed massage so that I could relax all the way. He said that he could do it if I wanted, but that if at any time I wanted him to stop, that if I hurt or didn't like something, I was to say so immediately. I promised. Then he instructed me to give him directions as to how hard, how fast, and exactly where it felt the best. As soon as I agreed, he put his hand flat on my pubic area. I hadn't really expected that, and I jumped. He took his hand away immediately and then asked me if I wanted him to go on or stop. I began to suspect that something was about to happen that my mom wouldn't need to know about. I thought about it for a few seconds. Then, "Yes, please," I told him, and explained that I had just been surprised. Then - since he hadn't moved - I took his hand and placed it back where it had been. He let me put his hand back. It was just the palm and fingers of his hand there, resting so gently that I could really just feel the warmth of his hand, no pressure. Then as he looked into my eyes he ever so slowly felt the outline of me through my panties, running his fingers everywhere and at last running one finger along the lips of my vagina from the bottom to the top. It felt so good! Then he began to rub me through my panties. After a while he began to touch me in a spot I had only recently found myself, but somehow him doing it made it ten times better. I told him just where I wanted him to touch me and everything else he asked. Then I forgot the whole world for a while except for where he was touching me and how great it felt. A wonderful warm feeling washed over me and I about died from the pleasure of it. I moaned, pushed against his hand, grabbing it with mine and holding it there and moving it myself, thrusting and pushing against it. Finally I had my first real orgasm. I'd done it myself, but it had never ever been like that before. I finished and collapsed. He waited a moment and then began to rub me again, and the feeling came back. He helped me do it again and then again. Finally I managed to say "enough" and he stopped. I was sweating, trembling and breathing heavy when I finally came back to myself. He was holding me in his arms and smiling at me. "You really enjoyed that, didn't you?" he said. He explained that he had relieved high sexual tension brought on by fright, shock and surprise by bringing me to a climax by rubbing my clitoris. He apologized for doing it, and said that I looked so lovely lying there in my panties and tee shirt that he just got carried away with the massage. Then when he noticed my panties were wet and through the wetness that my clitoris was erect, he decided that he should finish what he had started. Then he hugged me and sat me up and told me that if I wanted I could come back in a day or two and he would change the dressing on my knee. He promised me that he wouldn't let things go as far next time and that he was sorry for touching me like that and wished to apologize. I let him know that I was not in the least bit sorry that he had touched me and that I had liked every second of it, and I hugged him back. He said that he was glad I felt that way, but he'd try not to let my beauty get him carried away next time. Then he got a wash cloth and told me to clean up my crotch where I had gotten my panties all wet. He explained that this was all normal, and a strong sign of how badly I had needed what he had given me. While I was cleaning up he got my pants. Then he had me put my pants back on. The blood stain was gone and they were still warm from the dryer. Then he helped me up and had me stand. To my surprise my knee hardly hurt at all. Then he sent me home with his name and phone number on a piece of paper, with instructions to give it to my parents. He explained to me that it might not be a good idea to go into a great deal of detail about the fullness of the treatment I had received. I just laughed and told him "You'd better believe it!" and agreed that I'd let him explain. Then I hugged him good-bye and left. I did exactly as he said and had my Mom call him as soon as I got home. My mom was a little upset as he described the accident as he had witnessed it at first, but as he talked to her she calmed down. My brother got into trouble for reckless driving and got grounded. Mom told my new friend that she'd be sure to see that I'd do just as he said and that I'd be over again in a couple of days. She did make me quit my newspaper delivery job though. She felt that I was too old to do that anymore, and said she'd give me a small allowance until I could come up with another job of some kind. I showered and went to bed that night and slept wonderfully, dreaming of what had happened with fondness and looking forward to our next meeting. TWO: A Little Further is Sometimes Better Mom called him back on the day he'd suggested which happened to be the next Saturday, and asked him if it was still okay if I came over and if he was sure it wasn't a bother. He told her that he lived alone, that he liked kids and that I seemed to be a very sweet girl, and that he enjoyed my company very much. He said that he'd figured I must have very nice parents just on the basis of how I had acted. She was again favorably impressed, and gave me orders to do anything he asked, not to argue, and to not spoil his first impression. I told her he was a very nice man, and no way was I going to treat him any way but nice, that I fully intended to co-operate all the way. I had my own ideas about just what that meant. About ten that morning I got on my bike and rode over. He was waiting for me. He smiled and shook my hand and gave it a squeeze. Then he carried my bike up on the porch and invited me in. I had already planned what I was going to do. As soon as he shut the door I dropped my skirt and took off my blouse. He looked at me standing there in my new bra and panties and smiled. He looked me up and down. Then he asked me if I was planning for another massage. I told him that of course I was, that I had been looking forward to it for days. He came closer and took me by the shoulders and looked me in the eye. He held me at arms length and said he wasn't sure that it was a good idea, that he'd gotten carried away before. He had to admit, he said, that I was so beautiful to him that he wasn't sure he could keep from trying to please me as he'd done before. I moved away and sat on the couch and rubbed my thighs together as we talked. I told him that what he had done before had been so pleasing that I'd been thinking about it ever since. I stuck my hand inside my panties and began to rub myself. I told him that I'd been trying, but that he did it much better than I could. Then I got up and went over to him. I pulled him down to the couch and got on his lap, hugged him close and begged for him to do it again. I even tried kissing him, but he didn't start teaching me a lot about that til later, although I did feel him begin to harden under my bottom. Finally he asked me if I'd like him to do just what he'd done before. I felt excited at the thought. Well, I think I'd like it better if you did my whole body, I told him. Then I told him what my mom had said and how I had promised her that I would do anything he asked. "And you can ask me anything." I said. I also reminded him again how good he had made me feel last time and that I wanted as much of that good feeling back as possible. I had no idea that I would be feeling so much more! So he sat me on the couch again and cut off the old bandage and cleaned my knee with a solvent to remove the sticky glue. Then he had me help him spread a sheet for me to lay on out on the floor. He looked at me for a few seconds and then said that it would be more pleasant for me and easier to do if I took all my clothes off. He was hoping I'd think about it and refuse. I had never been seen nude by anyone since my breasts started to grow at age twelve. Not liking the heavy hands and nasty mouths of the boys near my age I'd avoided them. I was now almost fifteen. The only experience I had had was with him. I thought about it for about two seconds, but I had already spent hours imagining it. I slowly took off my bra and dropped it to the floor. Next I slid off my panties. As I took them off he watched me and somehow I felt excited rather than shy. I found myself arching my back to show off my breasts better, and standing with my legs parted slightly in anticipation. He was getting a little red in the face and didn't seem to know where to look. I think he was enjoying it for all the fact he was flustered by my daring. He had me lie down on my front and then rubbed me down all over with a massage oil. By the time he was done with my back, legs and bottom, I was already feeling warm again. He had me turn over. He was getting sweaty from the work and took off his tee shirt, leaving him clad only in gym shorts. He is a big man with a muscular build, not particularly hairy. I find him as nice to look at now as then. I kept trying to see the outline of his hard penis in his shorts. This time as he got to my inner thighs, he went around my hot spots there. As I started to protest, he shushed me, and then started on my arms. When he got to my breasts I found out why he wanted to do things in order. I had no idea that it could feel so good to have a man touch your breasts and nipples. By the time he got back down to my pubic area, I was ready to explode. He massaged me down there, spreading me with his fingers and even putting his fingers inside me a little, but not touching my clitoris. All he had to do was touch me there and I knew I'd go off. To my surprise he leaned over and kissed and tongued my nipples and then leaned down to my clitoris and touched me there with his tongue! I started coming almost as fast as I realized what he was doing. He kept me going for a long time. After a while he let me rest. I lay there feeling good and watched him look at and gently caress my body. We talked. He mentioned that as he had explored me he had found that I was still a virgin, and that he was surprised at the intensity of my responses to him. I told him that I had never been touched like that by anyone before, only him. He caressed and touched my breasts some more, telling me how beautiful and firm they were and how expressive my nipples were. Finally I grasped his hardness through his shorts. He closed his eyes and gasped. I asked him if he'd please take off his shorts so I could see what an adult man looked like aroused, because I could both see and feel that he was. He was hesitant, but I talked him into it. I admired his body and tried to touch it some more, but he made me hold off. After some more talk, he gave in to the temptation as I'd hoped he would. Of course I liked the idea. After I begged and pleaded and tempted him for a while longer, He finally let me rub his body with the massage oil, which I found lots of fun. I'd never even seen an adult male nude before, much less touched one. Now he let me do anything I wanted. For the first time I touched a male body that turned me on. I ran my hands over his chest and arms and body. I saw and touched my first penis and watched it grow harder and more erect with my first touch. I was not totally innocent and wondered how such a big thing could fit in such a small place as I knew I possessed, but at the same time felt a strong desire to put it there. Then he asked me if I'd like a body to body massage. Of course I would. I lay back down and he rubbed me with oil again. Then he rubbed my body with his, first on the back and when I turned over on my front. Then he lay on his back and I rubbed my self back and forth on him. Then we stood up and he held me and caressed me and we rubbed each other all over. I climbed and slid all over him. I found that I most enjoyed feeling his penis move back and forth between my legs. It seemed to get bigger and harder. After a while he tried stopped me from doing that. When I begged to continue he explained that what I was doing was perilously close to the only thing left to do we hadn't done and that I was making him want to do it very much. He had tears in his eyes as he held me close and said I was by far the most tempting thing he'd ever seen and that I was impossibly beautiful and sexy, despite my tender age. If he put himself inside me, he explained, this would be sexual intercourse, which he described fully and graphically. Technically a man of his age wasn't supposed to do this with a girl of my age. I was not supposed to be physically or emotionally mature yet, and it might injure me, either physically or emotionally, and he cared too much for me to risk that, he said. I might even get pregnant, and I was far too young for that, in his opinion. I held him close, looked in his eyes and told him as sincerely as I knew how that all I knew was that what we had done so far was the most wonderful thing that had ever happened to me and that now that he had explained, I knew even better than before that I wanted him to put his penis inside me very much. I didn't at all feel like waiting. When he told me I'd have to wait til I was eighteen if I went by the book, I told him to please throw out the book for my sake. We talked about it for a long time, standing, sitting and lying. I kept caressing him and having him caress me the whole time. He finally agreed that he would demonstrate as much as he could and that he would leave the final decision up to me. He showed me several intercourse positions, put his hard penis at my entrance and had me hold it there. He would push a little, until I'd push back, when he would back off. He could have entered me at any time as I wanted him too, and he knew it. Finally he lay on his back and had me kneel over him. Then he had me put his penis at the entrance to my vagina. Then he had me lower myself on to him and move his penis around, on and partly in myself. He told me not to hurt myself and that if at any time I felt any hurt or decided to change my mind, I should quit at once, and we'd never go that far again. He was so careful to be sure that I knew the moment of truth was coming that I figured that he was feeling guilty by now. If I had not led him on he would never have done anything to me except treat me. I could tell that he wanted me, though. I wanted to make him want me so much that he'd never be able to refuse me at any time. I was determined to enjoy myself, and at the same time make my body available to him for his pleasure. The more I touched myself with him and the more I imagined what it might be like, the more I wanted to get him inside me. I was so wet that my juices were running down the shaft of his penis. Once I got things lined up and felt his hardness pressing against my hymen, it was easy to push until it broke. He slowly went in all the way until I could see that it was done and he was as deep inside me as I could get him. I just about went out of my mind with pleasure as I felt him sliding inside me for the first time. I'm told it's supposed to hurt. Well, maybe. But I wouldn't know about that. It is an odd sensation that first time, but the overwhelming feelings I had pretty effectively hid any pain I might have felt. I came over and over again for quite a while. Every time he or I moved, I would go off again. When I finally came to myself again, he was holding me close to his chest and caressing my back as I lay on him. He was deep inside me. As I relaxed and enjoyed the sensation I realized that I could feel his very heart beating in there, as his penis throbbed. He had tears in his eyes and a big smile on his lips. He kissed me. He asked me how I felt. I told him that it had been a little hard breaking my hymen (He'd of course explained what to expect to me), but that once past that I hadn't felt anything but wonderful pleasure and a desire to keep going. We kissed and caressed for a while before he began to move back and forth inside me. That too was totally new and made me come again, very quickly. Then he rolled me over on my back. I wrapped my legs around him and pulled close. He began to go in and out of me even more deeply. I almost went mad, it felt so good. While we were doing this the phone rang. He told me to wrap my legs tighter around him and hold on. Then he got up and carried me, with his hard cock still deep inside me, over to the phone. With each step I felt another burst of pleasure. The caller was my mother, calling to see how things were going and if I was going to come home for lunch. He smiled and watched my eyes as he talked. He told her that what had started out as a simple treatment had turned into a social visit, and that we had just lost track of time. He explained that he just had to finish me up and clean me up, and then I could come home if she was in a hurry. Or I could stay and have lunch with him if I wanted. Then to my surprise he said "Here, talk to her yourself, tell her what you want her to do.", and he handed me the phone. I was a little flustered, seeing as how he was still deep inside me and I was only heartbeats from coming again, but Mom didn't seem to notice. Instead, she told me to not be a bore, to be nice to him and do whatever he said. "Take what he gives you without complaint.", she said. When he was through with my treatment I could come home, but not before, and not to rush things. I told her that was good advice. Then she reminded me to be sure and thank him and to enjoy my lunch. I told her I'd thank him in the best way I knew how. She didn't know that he was deep inside me, stroking slowly in and out even as she said that. It was a hard struggle to keep my voice normal as I spoke to her. I had to fight to keep from coming as she told me about thanking him. When I hung up, I was ready to come again, but he clamped down on me and wouldn't let me come for a time even though I wanted to and he knew it. I was begging! Then suddenly he began to bounce me on his cock and I went off like a box of skyrockets. When I finished having orgasms and became aware again, we were both lying on the floor in a heap. I have no idea how we got there. After he regained his breath and had recovered somewhat he told me that he had come inside me even though he had originally not intended to. He went over a long explanation on how pregnancy comes about. I knew most of it by rote, but he had some angles that made me understand it better than ever before. I now knew about the mechanics of it firsthand, too. When he pulled his cock out of me and all that goo came out, it really meant something that he had lost control like that. While we lay there resting, I kept after him gently and he finally had to admit that I had turned him on as much as he had interested me from the start. From the first touch of his hands on my skin. We lay cuddled together and talked for a while about how neat it was that a girl who liked older men (although I hadn't known it) had run into an older man who liked young girls, although it was a new feeling to him too. I finally put my arms around his neck and hugged him, and told him that the most wonderful thing I could think of was to get pregnant by him, that the idea turned me on all over again. I rested my head on his shoulder and planned out loud. I could just say that I had gone to a party and gotten drunk and passed out and that some guy had raped me while I was out. No one would think to blame him. Then I'd come to him for more "treatment". He was so touched by these thoughts that he didn't say a word for a long time. He just sat up and held me in his lap while I wrapped myself around him. He kissed and caressed me as tears rolled out of his eyes. When he finally spoke again, he was a little choked up, and had trouble speaking. It took him several tries to finally say that he thought he was in love with me. I just said "Good, I'm glad. I'm in love with you too." I turned to face him. We kissed and loved some more. He entered me again and we made long, slow, wonderful love for another endless period of excitement. This time he got hard while I was on his lap facing him, and I arranged myself so that as he got bigger and harder I could take him right into me. We spent a lot more time kissing this time than we had before. We made love so slowly that before he was ready to go off again I had come several more times. I think it was mostly from love of him this time. Again he wanted to pull out, but I didn't want him to and held him as deep inside as I could so that he came deep inside me again. This time I was able to hold off til he was finishing so I could watch his face and feel his body go rigid as he came. As I concentrated I could almost feel him spurting inside me. Then I let myself go, and I tried to pump him dry as long as I could. Finally we were both satisfied. We lay together and talked about our new love, and how wonderful it was. He told me how beautiful and sexy I was and that I was such a good lover that he had already made love more times in one day than he had ever imagined possible. I watched our goo dribble out of me with a warm full feeling. We showered together, washing each other. Then we towelled each other dry. Finally he put a dressing on my knee even though it was almost completely healed, just to make things look good. We were both ravenously hungry, and we had a lunch together that was possibly the best tasting food I had ever eaten. But then I had never shared a meal naked with my lover before. We dressed and then spent a long time kissing goodbye. He thanked me, and I thanked him, then I rode home, promising to return as soon as I could. Mother was amazed that I was so radiant looking and just plain happy. She called him back to thank him again and talked for quite a while on the phone. He asked how my job was going, (I'd told him about that), and she'd admitted that she'd made me quit. Then he offered to hire me as a housekeeper if she wouldn't mind. They talked for a while and Mom agreed I could take the job. I was delighted, needless to say. Now I had an excuse to visit my new lover just about as often as I wanted. THREE Now things are getting serious! My mom noticed that I was behaving differently that very night. Eventually, she began commenting on the fact that I was "...being very quiet and polite tonight". Later on I overheard her say to Dad that if getting treatments from that retired sports doctor made me as pleasant as this she wanted me to get them daily! If only I had been able to tell her I was in love and how much I wanted to get those treatments. I found out from my new love the next day that she had called him and asked if he used drugs. He'd laughed and said no, that he just used simple physical therapy and deep message, and that he didn't believe in drugs except as a last resort. Mom had asked how often I should get treatments, and he said that was entirely up to me, that he wouldn't mind giving them to me daily if I wanted them. After that first time, all I had to do was ask and he would do anything I wanted. At the same time I found that I was feeling a little guilty because of the way I went after him. When I told him of this, he simply kissed me and thanked me for my strength. He admitted that of himself, he would never have even kissed me, and we would both have missed our wonderful relationship. He has told me about all of his life, of course, and most of this I'll keep to myself, but know this: He is a gentle, kind and loving fellow that has been taken advantage of by so many, and loved truly (I believe) by none but me. Anyway, my mother put me at his disposal, letting me go over after school to do my housekeeping work and "get treatments" every day and all day sometimes on weekends. She even let me spend the night at times when it was storming, and any other time I could make up plausible excuse for not coming home. We had sex and slept together on those nights, but he also helped me with my homework a lot, and my grades got better very fast. By the next grading period, thanks to his teaching ability, I was getting mostly A's. Meanwhile, we went on having wonderful sex together at every opportunity we had. I discovered that housework, home repairs and other chores can be fun if they are shared with someone who cares about you. I began to do my at-home chores better because he taught me tricks and shortcuts that really worked. He also taught me about cooking, gardening, nature and dozens of other things. My Mom was full of praise for the things I was learning from him. I still wonder what she'd have said if she knew that we daily learned more about sex with each other and that by then I felt I was as accomplished a lover as anyone in the world! He had told me by now that I had taken and was taking him to heights he'd never imagined existed, and that he was learning as much about sex and loving now as I was. Once my lover and I even took a canoe trip alone together, with Mom's blessing. I had helped organize a camping trip for a school group and he had volunteered to come along as a teacher's aide and chaperone (can you imagine how I laughed inside at that?). The group had to cancel at the last minute, but we were all packed up to go, so I called home and got permission for us to go on alone. We pretended to be man and wife for a week, and we had a wonderful trip. It was kind of a honeymoon for us, and we spent a surprising amount of time having sex. We camped in campsites all over, registering as man and wife, and then setting up our tent and moving in. Our neighbors must have figured we were newlyweds if they listened to us at all closely at night. A little makeup and my hair tied up in a bun, and no one questioned my age. He looks fifteen years younger than he is anyway, and it's become easy for me to look and act older. I realized during this trip how important it is to have someone in your life who treats you with love and respect, who asks your opinion on things and tells you in words and actions that without you in his life things would not be so good. In short that he loves you. It's equally important that you have someone to love and give to, to worry about and care for. We have spent hours trying to decide which one of us gets the most out of our relationship, and our best guess is that since we both love to give, that's why we both get so much. Then my Dad got a promotion and a new job in a city some distance away. As soon as I found out, I objected loudly to changing schools, horrified at leaving my lover, but not daring to give my real reason. To my complete surprise, Mom agreed with me and declared that I was doing the best I had ever done in school and had completely turned around. From a flighty, airheaded, mouthy teen, (She declared) I had become an obedient and cheerful daughter. Quiet, agreeable and mature beyond my years. The only reason she could see for the change was my friendship with and the great amount of time I spent with, my "therapist". She didn't want me taken away from this good influence. Then she called my friend up and asked if he would mind boarding me! Although astounded, he agreed with minimal argument of course. As soon as he could believe it was true. I later had quite a time convincing him that Mom had thought of the idea herself with no help from me, but she did. So I gave rather than lost my virginity to this man before I was fifteen. Now I am almost seventeen, and have been living with my forty year old lover for six months, and I am having a wonderful time. We live and sleep together as if we were married, sharing every aspect of life. We are married in every way but on paper. We have sex endlessly when we have the desire, since we turn each other on so much and there is no reason not to. There are times when we don't of course. Sometimes days and days. But we love each other, and snuggle and sleep together even then. When we finally do it again, we have such a strong hunger that we enjoy it even more for the missing of it. In addition to great sex, we are deeply in love and have other great times together too. He has taught me much of what he knows about sensual massage and our sex (impossible as it may seem), gets better every day. Someday when I am old enough we will definitely get married, and I am going to get pregnant by him as soon as I can figure out a way to do so without causing trouble. As for school, the boys in my class have given up on trying to put the make on me as I just plain won't have anything to do with them. The word has gotten out that I have a lover who is in college, and that I am committed to him. I don't dispute it and I don't comment, especially as how almost everything said is true except his age and identity. My teachers are astounded at how well I do in class. They don't know that I get drilled with my homework by an expert teacher who is also my beloved, and that he won't love me on certain nights til I can recite my lessons right. No wonder I don't mind studying now. My school girlfriends can't figure out why my complexion is so clear, why I am so calm and easy going all the time. He says that constant and steady sex keeps me calm because my hormones are in balance. I think it's his presence in my life rather than the sex, because he is so understanding, and keeps me so happy. I am picking up good traits from him. When we disagree, we never fight about it, we just work around it and those small troubles always go away entirely in the light of our deep love. Even larger problems can be solved with two heads and enough love and trust. Incidentally, from the first time we met, he has never treated me like a kid, but as an adult, as a person. That's one reason I loved him so quickly I think. If a girl is lucky enough to find herself in a position where she can start an affair with an older man, I think she should do it. The law may say it's wrong, and prudes may frown, but it has been wonderful for me, and is working out just fine. I could never be this happy with an insecure, arrogant, thoughtless and rough handed and minded immature boy. Admittedly not everyone is going to be lucky enough to get a man who is as good as the one I have, but even a short term relationship with an older man is bound to be better than the same thing with a self centered boy. Except for the fact that I haven't gotten pregnant by him yet our relationship is nearly perfect. Someday I will stop taking precautions. He wants to marry me first, and that's fine, but I feel married already, so it's more important to me to have his child. He insists that I have a unique and wonderful mind, and that I should go to college, and I probably will. I hope to talk him into going with me when I get a scholarship and hopefully it will be somewhere far away where we can live openly as husband and wife, and maybe even really get married. I'm not sure quite yet what field I will study in yet. I am confident that whatever I study I will do well, because he is behind me fully, loving me as much as I do him. He is devoted to helping me become the best I can possibly be, and I am determined to make him so happy, and keeping him so happy, that he will live to a very ripe old age, teaching and loving our children with me. As to his being so much older that he will someday require me to nurse him or that he will die and leave me alone. I say that ten years with this man I love is worth more than a lifetime with anyone else I have ever met or known. If I have to take care of him it will be with devotion and love. If he dies early, then I will just have to live alone, as he did. I might take a lover, but I will never love anyone the way I love him. I know there is an afterlife too, and I feel confident that we will bed together there, too. Our love is too great for it to be otherwise. This is my story, and I have told all of its beginning, much of what I feel it is based on, and little of our present, for that is ours. I have told of my hopes for our future, and something of our dreams. I have tried to do so in such a way that we cannot be identified, because I will allow nothing to endanger our relationship, or my beloved. I hope that someone reads this who's life will be improved by the reading, or whose thoughts will be changed as to age variant relationships. Indeed, that is the only reason I wrote it. ### Author: the BEAR (email address not valid anymore) -- CJ I don't write any stories. 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