Message-ID: <16494eli$9810150639@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: "marky92" Subject: REV{marky92}"Finally Claire"(MF,rom,1st) Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit Content-Type: text/plain; charset="US-ASCII" Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: X-Original-Message-ID: <6vl7to$b7o$1@plug.news.pipex.net> **Disclaimer (Robert De Niro gangster voice) What d'you means you ain't old enough to read this? If you ain't old enough, then why you reading it? You stoopid fuck. Let me explain something to you. Are you listening to me? I'm trying to explain something. In whatever country you happen to be, there's a law telling you how old you have to be to read something which contains graphic depiction's of sexual activities. You might be old enough to do it, but that ain't necessarily old enough to read about it. Besides, sex is nasty, horrible and dirty. If you go reading shit like this, you'll end up like me, sad and depraved. So if you ain't old enough, go and do something healthy, like playing "Quake". What? Now you saying you are old enough, but that this sort of thing offends you. Then stop reading now! Stoopid fuck. Go on! Fuck off. Let us pervs have our fun. Go and read a 'mills and boon' novel or something. **Special note I'm English not American, but still, with the bombardment of American images that we receive in this country on TV and in films, I get confused from time to time. It's not my fault, blame the media!!! Comments can be sent to either of these two addresses kce63@dial.pipex.com marky92@hotmail.com <-------------------------------------------------------------------> Finally Claire by marky (c) Copyright 1998 marky This story is kind of a fantasy. Although the main characters are real, only part of this story is true. Up to a certain point the events did take place, but after that, they only happened in my dreams. Wet dreams. I could tell you, dear reader, at which point reality ends and fantasy starts, but that would be no fun, and make me look even more sad than I already am. It's left to you to decide where the change occurs..... You see it's been five years since I left sixth form having completed my 'A levels'. About time for a reunion you might think. Not a chance. I'm only in contact with one person from my time in sixth form. It did get me thinking however. Most of the people from that time of my life I don't particularly care to see again, but there are one or two.... (Fuzzy Vision - cheap TV trick to indicate a memory coming on....) (Screen wobbles.... wobble, wobble) We'd been at the same school for five and a half years before I first noticed Claire. She'd been on the opposite side of the timetable to me for the first three years, and when we finally shared a couple of classes the lines of friendship groups had already been drawn If we exchanged two words with each other that would have been a major conversation. When I started going out with one of her friends, Claire became one of the many girls my new girlfriend was talkative with, but basically just a face in the crowd. A cute face, but just one of the crowd. I heard all the rumors. All the talk of the huge number of guys that had asked Claire out and been rejected. She said "NO" to everyone. Even the really popular guys got knocked back by Claire. I heard the stories, but couldn't put a face to the name. I first took any real notice of Claire just after Christmas in the first year of sixth form. I was seventeen, and had just broken up with my then girlfriend (who is the one person I am still in contact with now, go figure), and I had taken it really hard. I say 'just broken up with' but it had been three or four months, more accurately I'd just about gotten over her. I was just about ready to admit that maybe girls were worth all the hassle and hurt after all. The school management had organized a group photo for the whole of years 12 and 13, and there we were in the school hall, all lined up for the shoot. The tall ones stood at the back, the mid-size ones in the middle, and the short munchkins sat on chairs at the front. The photographer announced that there was a problem with the camera he had set up for the group shot, but the cameras for the individual photos were working fine, so if the first row go and line up on the far side of the hall he would be very appreciative. The front row, which was made up of all girls, stood up in unison and trooped over to the cameras in single file. The tallest guy in the class, stood on the back row, called out "Hi, Ho." His intent was to signify the lack of height of the girls, and it raised a chuckle from most of the assembled masses. I've always been sensitive about my height, being a short arse myself, so while it was funny at the time, I did sympathize with the poor girls now being ridiculed. I knew most of them pretty well, but I noticed Claire more than any of the others. I recognized her as being in my maths class, and tried to place where she sat in relation to me. Even though the maths class was small, only about 10 students, there was a group of us in the same class for all subjects, and we tended to stick together. Couple this with the fact that Claire also had her little group of friends in the class, and she came across as quite shy and quiet, and it is easy to see why I hadn't really taken much notice of her before. Looking at her now I couldn't understand why I hadn't noticed her, she was gorgeous. She had an indefinable quality, something I couldn't put my finger on. Over the next few weeks I started to talk to Claire on occasions. I had the perfect way in, we were both in the same maths class, and so had the same homework to do. Now phrases like, "Have you done you homework?" or "Could you answer question 2, 'cause I thought it was hard?" are not generally considered to be chat up lines. Certainly no girl would guess you had an interest in them if that was how all your conversations started. But that was how most of my conversations with Claire did start. It would get us talking about work, and then lead to other topics. We spent many hours in the library during free periods talking about nonsense or, just sometimes, actually doing work together. Well I say doing work together, it was mostly me doing the work and Claire saying things like, "Oh yeah, I get it. What answer did you get again? That's what I got too." She was basically copying my work, but I didn't mind. It pleased me just to have the pleasure of being around this lovely creature, and she was happy to have more time to spend on her art. I must admit that what first drew me to her, drew most men to her, was her looks. She had the silkiest black hair, which frequently changed style. Deep blue eyes that she tried to hide either with make up or simply by not looking directly at people. She was on the short side, and wasn't particularly well endowed in the chest region either, but she had the cutest face, no, cute is not the right word. She was just really pretty. And she carried herself in a way that just added to her appeal. I can't think of any appropriate words to describe it, maybe there aren't any. Her shyness definitely added to the whole image. There was a gothic air of mystery about her. She acted closed off, hard to reach, and there is just something about that that I, and many others, found sexy. She also dressed really well. At our school the sixth form didn't have a uniform, but an "agreed standard of dress" instead. This meant that we were supposed to wear office type clothing , within the colour scheme of white, gray and burgundy. The guys didn't have much choice in what to wear, gray suit, white shirt and tie. The girls however could get away with most things. Skirts were either burgundy or gray, and varied in length from "down by the ankles" to "all up her arse". Claire's choice of style was understated. She wore a dark gray, mid-length skirt, white blouse and dark gray cardigan. It doesn't sound all that special, and some might wonder why I bothered with the description, but you must understand that everything about Claire, when taken alone, seemed ordinary, but she put them all together in a way..... I just can't do justice to the aura she projected with words. She couldn't be described as anyone's dream girl, but everyone who met her, wanted her. Time wore on and I found myself becoming quite good friends with Claire. We even began to flirt a little. She didn't think anything of it because I flirted with most of the girls I knew anyway, but I was more attracted to Claire than to any other women in my short life. The problem was that I was going through a period of major self doubt. I had no confidence in myself, or my abilities. And I certainly didn't consider myself attractive to the opposite sex. Sure I flirted with just about all the girls, but it was an act, a way of defending myself. Claire and I began to find more things in common than just maths homework. We played pool in the social area, talked about politics in the library. She began to show something of herself to me, and I liked what I saw. In free periods we knew where to find each other, at a table in the children's corner of the library. We were hardly ever alone there, there was always someone else doing work at the table or relaxing in the comfy chairs with a newspaper. I would always try and be first to the library, and first to get hold of the paper. Like most people I hated for people to read over my shoulder, but I would always share the paper with Claire if she wanted it. It meant that we had to get close to each other, into each others "Space". If I was at the table she would come up behind me, one hand on the back of my chair, the other on the table as she leant over me. If I was on one of the low comfy chairs she would kneel down beside me. Whichever it was she was as close to me as we ever got. I could smell her, the heady mix of her own scent and the perfume she wore, and it drove me wild. But all the time I kept a cool exterior, keeping my desire hidden. About halfway through that first year of A levels the friendship groups began to shift. I found myself pulled into a group that included Claire, and my ex-girlfriend. She had got a new boyfriend, which made things awkward, but we both got past that. (These days my ex, Tracey, is one of my best friends. I don't know what I'd do without her sometimes.) As a group we began going out, to the cinema and to nightclubs. Claire and I began to flirt more and more, and it became obvious to some that I fancied her rotten. But with my confidence as low as it was, I was convinced that there was no-way she could ever fancy me back. I never even considered asking her out on a date alone. And as long as we were going out in a group, nothing was going to happen between us. So I contented myself with the relationship we had. Homework sessions in free periods became regular, to the extent that we were joined by several others in the class. We played badminton together in sports class, and formed quite a deadly partnership. And of course we would still play pool. With each activity there was some way that we found to flirt. If we arrived at school early to play pool I would try and give her hints on the best shot, or step up close behind her to help her line up the shot. While on the badminton court we would slap each other on the behind after winning a good point, and homework was filled with innuendo. But I knew I couldn't ask her out. Several of the more popular guys in sixth form asked Claire out, and she turned all of them down. Was there any reason she wouldn't turn me down? After all, surely they were better catches than me, and she wasn't interested in them. That was the way things stayed for the rest of that first year. Summer rolled around and I took a long holiday with the family. We cruised down the Rhine in Germany, sampling all the Rhine valley had to offer, especially the wine. I spent most of my time on deck sunning myself and reading all the Terry Pratchett books I had missed. It was incredibly relaxing, and just what I needed to get some confidence back. I went back to school a changed man. That was good, because now we were the seniors in the sixth form. The top year in the school, a role model for the rest. A new headmaster had taken over the school, and there was a different atmosphere there. I also found my confidence boosted by the news that there were a crop of girls lower down the school who had the hots for me. So what if they were four years younger than me, at least someone found me attractive. It was about that time that the staff started to push us into applying for a university place. They did everything they could to try and convince us. One thing they did was organize a trip to the local university in Birmingham for one of the open days. I only mention this because it was on the way back from this trip that I first realized Claire might like me as much as I liked her. The trip left early in the morning, and we spent the whole day on campus, checking out the various departments and facilities. I spent most of the day with a group of lads who were interested in doing the same degree as me, either maths or physics. I didn't see Claire except for lunch, when most of our group got back together in the Student Union building. By the time we got back on the coach I was really tired, so found a seat on my own, and settled down to try and get some kip. My sought after solitude lasted just a few minutes. I had sat on the seats in front of Claire and her friend Melissa. No sooner had we left the university campus than Claire was leaning forward through the tiny gap in the seats to show me some postcards she had brought. They were arty prints, apparently famous paintings, which I had never heard of. When I told her that she seemed surprised, and came to sit in the seat next to me. She began to give me loads of information on the pieces, and a brief life history of the artist. Turns out she was studding him. I wondered why she was telling me all this, after all the history of art is not exactly something I'm in to. I was even more surprised when she stayed where she was sat after she'd unloaded her knowledge onto me. I didn't mind, and didn't complain. We sat in silence for a while until Claire got hold of an Italian phrase book from a girl who had spent her day in the modern languages department. We did the usual thing, looked up the dirty words and such, then spent a good half an hour chatting each other up in first Italian then Spanish. It was perhaps the best coach ride I had even taken. I knew then that she might be interested, and resolved to ask her on a date as soon as the opportunity arose. However I had several opportunities and didn't take them. I'd would get into the situation alone with her and then the words would stick in my mouth. Self- doubt would overtake me, and demon inside would tell me not to be silly, that she could never be interested in me, and I would only make a fool of myself. I had to find a way to overcome this, to shout down the demons. Things were made worse when Claire couldn't make it to my 18 birthday party in late October. Her own party was the following weekend, and because she didn't want to work that weekend, she had to work during my party instead. She apologized, and seemed very genuine. She promised me a birthday kiss and dance at her party, but it still hurt that she hadn't come to mine. At her party I did get a dance, and a brief kiss. It wasn't the last dance, as I had hoped, she saved that for her big brother. It was a smooch to a slow song though. "Bed of Roses" by Bon Jovi, Claire's favorite tune. The music was loud and slow. Sensual and sexy. We clutched each other tightly, tightly enough to leave her in no doubt that I was turned on. We swayed to the music in perfect harmony, our bodies fitting together like jigsaw pieces. My hands rested in the small of her back, I dare not go any lower, and hers were up around my neck. Her head rested on my shoulder, and I leaned my head against hers. I was in heaven. I wished that the music would never stop. After she had spent most of the evening with her family, or dancing in a group, this was my time. Just Claire and I, sensuously moving in time with one of the sexist songs ever written. As it came to an end we kissed for the shortest time. A "Happy Birthday" from both of us to each other. The following week my optimism regarding Claire had turned to gloom. I was once again convinced that she couldn't be interested in me. Suddenly one Wednesday in early November I found myself alone with her in the library after school finished. We were working on some extra maths problems, which was unusual because normally I was halfway home as soon as the bell went. We had a test coming up, and had decided to stop in the library, thinking I would get more work done. When Claire found out she joined me. We worked for about an hour before calling it a night and packing up. We walked home together until the point in the journey came when we had to go in separate directions. We parted, but before I had walked more than a few feet I had a sudden impulse. I turned around and ran after Claire. "Claire." I called, "Claire, Wait up." She stopped and turned around to see why I was shouting her. "What is it Mark?" she said. "Urm, I was just wondering," I stammered over my words, unsure of what I was going to say next. "...I... urm .... nothing. It doesn't matter." I turned to walk away but she called me back. "No wait. What is it? What were you going to say?" "Nothing, it doesn't matter. I was just... It doesn't matter." "Yes it does. What was it?" "I was just gonna... I was gonna ask you if you were doing anything later.... I thought you might want to... I really like you and I was gonna ask you to go out with me okay. It was silly. You'll say no, I'll get embarrassed, so let's just forget it okay." "So then ask me." she said, I didn't notice the way her eyes had lit up. "Why? So you can laugh in my face? Since I've known you you've been asked out by all the best guys in school. All the really popular guys. And you've turned them down. What chance has a nerd like me got. I mean look at you. Your the sweetest, kindest, most caring girl in school, and by far the most beautiful. What would you want with someone like me huh? So let's just forget I said anything. I've said what I wanted to, I've made a fool of myself so now I'm just going home and lock myself in my room." It all came out, everything I felt. The floodgates opened and I couldn't stop it. By the time I realized what I was saying, I'd already finished. I turned to leave but Claire reached out a hand to stop me. "Have you ever thought why I turned them all down?" she asked, but didn't give me time to think of an answer. "It was because I was waiting for someone. Someone special, someone I really liked, but seem to just want to flirt with me and every other girl he knew." It took a while for my feeble brain to assimilate this information, so I just gazed at her blankly. She came closer to me, taking my hands in hers. I was still looking at her as our faces came closer. She tilted her head slightly as she approached. I reached out to her with my lips, and then we were kissing. A long slow kiss. We started out with just our lips touching, holding hands, bags dropped on the floor beside us. As I parted my lips slightly she parted hers in response. We let go of each others hands and embraced, pulling ourselves close. My tongue snaked its way into her mouth, and was met by hers. As our tongues wrestled, my hands were on her hips, then in her hair, then back on her hips, slowly moving between those two extremes, tracing the curve of her body. The whole thing must have lasted less than a minute, but it felt like an eternity. I didn't ever want it to stop. When it finally did we just stared at each other, into each others eyes. She smiled at me, which lit up her eyes, and I smiled back. I walked her back to her house, arm in arm. We kissed again briefly when we got there and agreed to met up later that night. After that I didn't walk home, I floated, on a cloud of bliss. We met up later and talked for nearly two hours. The next day at school the social area was buzzing with the news. Evidently most people had been waiting for this to happen. My friends all had a good word to say, Claire friends likewise. People I hardly spoke to were coming up to me saying "It's about time." Even some of the teachers commented. Finally we were together, and we were happy. We spent as much time as possible together. We even applied to the same universities and went to the open days together. But let's be honest, most of the people on this newsgroup don't want to hear a sweet tale about how we got together. After all, it is called alt.SEX.stories. Even though I had had girlfriends before I was still a virgin. Claire had only ever been out with any guy for no more than two dates, and she too had her cherry intact. I think we both knew that we wanted each other in the worst way. We would kiss a lot, and fondle each other, but we always remained fully clothed. I felt under her bra, and inside her knickers on a few occasions, but her hand stayed above my waist. We talked about what it would be like, where we wanted to do it. In March we decided that the time was right. We wanted our first time to be special, so we decided to ask our parents if Claire could stay over at my place one weekend. My mom hated the idea when I first suggested it. But I argued my case, calmly and concisely. I knew she would initially say "No" as a kind of motherly reaction, so I had already planned what needed to be said. I explained that since we were both 18, two years over the age of consent, legally old enough to get married without parental permission, legally adults, she couldn't stop us if we really wanted to do it. Claire had a car, so all we had to do was find a good place to park. But I also told her that we were trying to be responsible about it, something my mom, and the teachers, were always going on about. I told her we wanted it to be special, not some sticky fumbling in the back seat of a mini-metro. Eventually mom relented. She agreed that it was for the best if we had somewhere to stay, so we set a date for Claire to stay over. The weekend arrived quickly. We had planned to spend Friday and Saturday night together. We wanted to just sleep with each other before we finally "did it". So that's what happened. Friday night we rented a video, ordered a pizza and spent the night in my room just like so many times before. The difference was that this time Claire didn't drive home at the end of the night. Instead she went into the bathroom and changed into a short nightshirt. While she was changing I put on some jim-jams and turned back the covers on the bed. We climbed into bed together. Mine was a small single bed, and we were forced to lie close to each other. We held each other tightly. We kissed, and our hands roamed. But this was not the night. As much as we wanted each other, we showed restraint. We eventually fell asleep, with me tucked up behind her, my arms wrapped around her. She held onto my hand as we slept. We spent the whole of the next day together. We woke early and went shopping. We had a pub lunch then we went to the football, something I had always loved and Claire had come to enjoy. We followed that with a trip to the cinema and a McDonalds. We went on to a club and met up with some friends. The music was loud and hardly appropriate for a romantic evening, but we had a great time none the less. Most of the music at that time was for dancing alone, but by request the DJ played some bump-n-grind music, giving Claire and I a chance to get VERY close on the dance floor. The club was open until 2am, but we were both desperate to get home. We bid farewell to our friends at midnight. By the time we got back to my house the rest of my family we already in bed. Claire and I went straight upstairs. With everyone else asleep it was too late for soft music, too late for talk. I closed the door to my room behind me and Claire leapt on me. Her lips pressed against mine and her arms wrapped themselves around my neck. I responded to her kiss, sliding my tongue into her mouth and entwining it with hers. I put my hands on her hips, then began to trace a line up her back with my fingers. The blouse she wore was thin, and through it I could feel the softness of her skin and the clasp of her bra as my hand passed over it. As my hands worked their way up her body, hers traced a similar path down my back. She reached my ass, and I got a shock as she gripped its cheeks, firmly squeezing them. She broke from the kiss to say, "I've always liked your butt." She let go of my cheeks and her hands moved to just above the waist of my jeans. I had on no belt, so it was easy for her to slide her hands under my jeans and boxers, grabbing my ass again. All this time I ran my hands through her hair as we kissed. Claire began to knead by ass cheeks as I moved my hands between us to paw at her breasts. At first I was gentle with them, but suddenly I had an impulse, and squeezed one of them hard. She flung her head back, and there was a mixed look of shock and pleasure in her eyes. She responded by doing the same to my butt. I moved one hand and began to work on the top button of her blouse. She pulled away form me. No words were exchanged. There was no need. We both knew we were about to cross a line and there was no turning back. She stood before me, and slowly she undid each button of her silky white blouse. As the last one opened, she slid the garment off her shoulders and let it fall to the floor. For a moment she just stood there, silently. Then she reached around her back and unclasped her bra. As she brought her hands back around to the front, her bra fell forward, reveling to me for the first time, the milky white globes of titflesh beneath. As the bra too hit the floor, landing on top of the blouse, I stood motionless, drinking in the figure of beauty before me. I sighed, and stepped forward, reaching up a hand to each breast, gently kneading them, squeezing the nipples and rolling them between my fingers. I kissed Claire lips, then as she tipped her head back to enjoy the sensations she was experiencing, I moved on, kissing her neck, working my way downwards. Claire had the presence of mind to sit down on the bed, which was just behind her. I sat down next to her, making it easier to bend down and kiss the soft flesh of her tits. I tried to cover as much flesh with kisses before I got to the deep red nipples, sticking straight out, hard and filled with blood. I reached out a tongue to lick one of them, still working on the other with my hand. I used my tongue to flick at the pink bud, slowly at first then with increasing tempo. Finally I took it between my lips and began to suck upon it. Claire flung her head back even further, almost touching the back of her neck. She let out a long low sigh as I tried to suck as much of the milky white flesh into my mouth as possible. We continued like this for a few minutes, I alternated breasts, until Claire finally lifted my head up to kiss me. Now it was her turn. She undid each of the buttons of my shirt, running her hand through the thin hair on my chest. As she undid each button, she covered the newly revealed skin with kisses. When she reached my belly button, she dipped her tongue into it, sending a shiver up my spine. By now I was rock hard, and my cock was straining to get out of the confines of my Levis. It caused a visible lump. Claire placed a hand on it. The first time anyone hand been this close to my dick besides me. Claire fumbled with the buttons of my fly, and I tried to kick off my shoes and remove my socks with my feet. At the same time our lips were locked together in a kiss, our tongues fighting with each other. Claire opened up the last button of my fly and I lifted my bum up off the bed so that she could ease down my jeans. I now sat next to her on the bed in only my boxer shorts, my prick wanting out. Our lips still locked together, Claire slipped a hand into my shorts and took hold of my dick, wrapping her delicate fingers around it. I flinched slightly, and Claire broke away from the kiss to smile at me. A claming smile, a loving smile, and the look in her eyes told me she was pleased with what she felt in her hand. As she kissed me again she began to stroke it. Like most teenagers I masturbated, but it was never like this. Now that someone else was doing it the sensations were heightened, and I kissed Claire harder. I reached a hand down and placed it on Claire's bare leg, just between her knee and the hem of her short skirt. Gently I rubbed it, then slid it upwards, underneath her skirt and towards her panties. I stroked the top of her thigh, inching closer to her knickers with each upward movement. Claire suddenly let go of my dick, and inside I panicked, thinking I had done something wrong. But my fears we unfounded. Claire reached around and undid the button and zip of her skirt. I knew what she wanted, and as she lifted herself off the surface of the bed I removed both her skirt and panties in one swift movement. As they reached her ankles she kicked them off, across the room, and they hit the door, falling in a crumpled heap. Before I could attack her now exposed pussy Claire was tugging at the waist band of my boxers, and it was my turn to rest my weight on my hands as she removed them. No sooner had my bum hit the bed again then Claire was once more slowly stoking my cock. With one hand stimulating her nipple, I moved the other back to the top of her leg. No more teasing I decided. It rubbed my hand across her pubes. The wiry hair tickled the back of my hand, but the warmth of her pussy beckoned. With one finger I stroked along it's length, causing Claire's strokes on my dick to speed up momentarily. I did this a couple more times, then slowly slipped a finger inside her. Her whole body stiffened, and she stopped her stroking for a moment. I began to pull my finger out, but her hand forced it back in. I tried again, and again she forced it back in. I got the idea. I began to fuck her with first one, then two fingers. With my thumb I found the nub of flesh that was her clitoris, and rubbed it gently as my fingers worked back and forth inside her. That way we stayed for a while, but we both wanted more. Claire lay back on the bed while I reached over to the bedside cabinet for a condom. Claire wasn't on the pill and we wanted to be careful. I tore the packet open and took out the rubber. Claire looked up at me and said, "Have you ever put one of those on before?" "And when would I have done that?" "I don't know, playing about, experimenting." "No." I said, "I have never.." "Well," Claire interrupted, a glint in her eye, "Can I do it?" "You serious?" I asked. She nodded and I handed her the device. I knelt in front of her and she sat up, condom in hand. She looked at the condom then at my dick, then did something I wasn't expecting. She leant forward and planted a kiss on the end of my knob. I nearly came right there. She looked up at me, her gorgeous blue eyes still glinting, and smiled. Then she took the head of my cock into her mouth, and sucked in as much as she could into her mouth. I can't described how she looked, her eyes closed and her lips wrapped around my cock. In her mouth her tongue was tracing patterns on my dick, but outside there was no sign of the movements that were driving me wild. Without warning she pulled away. She examined the condom once more, and with a look up at me, and a flashed smile of cheekiness, she slipped the rubber covering onto me, rolling it all the way down to my balls. Claire lay back, her legs spread slightly, and beckoned me to her. I fell forward onto her, eager to kiss the lips that had just been around my dick. We kissed for a moment or two, then she reached down, searching for me. It was time. I reached down myself and took hold of my dick. She gripped it too, and together we guided the missile home. We found the warm, wet entrance to her soul, and I rubbed my cock along her pussy lips a few times. Each time she bucked hr hips upward, wanting me inside her. Finally I pushed forward, the pressure at the end of cock forcing her lips apart. Slowly I entered her, inching my cock forward into the blackness slowly. With less than half of myself inside her I felt resistance, and pulled back just as slowly. When only the head remained inside her I began to push back in, reveling in the velvety warmth of her box. For two or three strokes I pushed in until it felt the pressure of her hymen, then pulled out. The whole time we stared into each others eyes. Claire's face was contorted in pleasure, and in her eyes all I could see was love. This time as I began to pull out Claire gripped my ass to stop me, urging me forward. I looked at her. Silently asking if she was sure, I didn't want to hurt her. In answer to my unspoken question she pulled my ass closer, smashing past the thin skin blocking the way. For a moment her face showed pain, but her eyes showed me her love. She held me there until the pain subsided, then released her grip. "Now Fuck me." she said. I bent down to kiss her softly on the lips, and began long slow strokes, pleasuring both of us in a way neither thought possible. With each stroke Claire lifted her hips up to meet me, and all the time we continued to kiss. I began to pick up the pace, building towards an orgasm, and Claire matched every beat. All to soon I came, without warning and with force. Every muscle in my body tensed, and as the condom filled, I collapsed on top of Claire. For a while I was unable to speak as I got back both my breath and my senses. When I had recovered I kissed Claire's forehead and spoke softly to her. "I'm sorry." I said. "What for?" she asked, "that was lovely." "Really?" "Yeah," she said with a smile, "I liked it," "But it didn't last very long." I said. "So, we can do it again later." "And you didn't have.. you know.. you didn't cum." I said. "Doesn't matter." she said, "I'm sure I will next time, or the time after that." And she did. We got under the covers and fell asleep in the same position as the previous night. The next morning we did it again, and Claire did cum, HARD. After that weekend Claire stopped at my house regularly. Since she shared a room with her sister we never got the chance to stay at her house. Like all the most passionate of couples we could never last. I got into University, she didn't. She came to stay a few time with me but the distance was too much. We spilt up and both moved on to pastures new. If I ever got the chance I would love to meet up with her again, to relive that first time. I doubt it will ever happen, but we all live in hope. [END] <-------------------------------------------------------------------> **Copyright Notice This work is Copyright 1998 Marky Everitt. You may keep a copy in a personal archive, electronic or paper, as long as it is for personal use only (Personal being you and friends/family/partner, but not the general public). Feel free to repost in the newsgroup you found it or any other appropriate newsgroup, but I would appreciate an e-mail telling me you have reposted :-> This story should not, under any circumstances be used to make a profit by anyone other than the author and copyright holder.(That's me) This story may or may not be based on actual events, real or otherwise. The names of the people and places involved may or may not have been changed to protect the innocent and/or guilty. It may or may not be based on material that the author has or has not read, seen, or otherwise experienced, in the past, present and/or future. Any similarity between actual people and/or places, real or otherwise, is probably not coincidental, but might well be. ---------------------------------------------------- Well I can't say I'm completely surprised, You'll bonk anything won't you lister. Rimmer - Red Dwarf ---------------------------------------------------- marky92@hotmail.com kce63@dial.pipex.com http://ds.dial.pipex.com/town/road/kce63/ -- +----------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `--------------+ | | | | Archive site +----------------------+--------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | ----