Message-ID: <19764eli$9902080429@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: ArtaDeux@aol.com Subject: {NEW}<*>Kristianna's Adventures I(10/?)(FM, teen, cons,mast) 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: <2f4c831a.36be063c@aol.com> The following work contains sexually explicit language and may contain graphic descriptions of various sex acts. If you are not 18 years of age, or this sort of thing is prohibitted in your town, city, county, state, country, province, or erotica is offensive to you, STOP READING. I, the author give permission for this work to be posted and archived on ASSM and ASS, according to their standards and welcome reviewer's (Celestial and Annex) comments. This work may not be posted to any pay sites or reproduced for profit, other than for the author's own monetary benefit. If you have a personal comment, please feel free to e-mail me at 'ArtaDeux@AOL.com'. I will only respond to nice people so don't bother e-mailing me if you're going to be a jerk. Copyright 1999 Art aDeux@AOL.com (Sasha) Various Adventures of Young Kristianna I (Or, more exploratorations, this time of the non-single sort) After a few weeks the physical evidence of my lost virginity slowly faded away. I avoided all men, Roberts definately included for quite a while. Then I realized that avoidance was no longer neccessary. Most of my classmates, indeed most of the small private high school that I attended, were avoiding me. My longtime constant friend Debbie never left my side. I think on some level she knew something bad had happened to me, but I never confided in her just what it was. The last few weeks of the semester wore on silently as we ate lunch alone each day. The boys were quiet verbally speaking, but on another level, thier looks and posturing were telling once I 'woke up' from the shock of the whole affair. They knew. That piece of shit had told them that I'd willingly fucked him. I hated him. We parted company the last day of school, and as I walked toward the quad Debbie asked me if I was going to let her sign my yearbook. I shook my head. "If you love me as your friend Deb, you'll write it in a letter and send it to me this summer," I said as I tossed the red leather style book with gold lettering into a garbage can. She nodded and I noticed tears in her eyes. I fixed a smile on my face and glibbly changed the subject. She brought it back with a question that was more of a statement than anything else. "You're not coming back next year are you?" I shook my head again. "No. Not if I can help it." She quickly grabbed me in a hug and told me she loved me. Then we left. No long goodbyes. Just two girls who knew they probably wouldn't see each other again. I spent the first weeks of my summer in my room with the fan on and reading more fiction from the library. I favored Stephen King still, but had read most of his work to date. Mary Higgins Clark tickled my fancy for a short while, then I moved on to Robin Cook. Good medical thrillers. I messed with some of the classics and read for the first time the weighty but oft baudy Complete Works of Shakespeare. I listened more to the pop stations than the classical ones and just about avoided any thought of piano practice. I told Lila I wanted to take a summer off from lessons and she actually let me. I didn't think about sex. Well, that's not true if you count dreams, but I didn't think I thought about sex. I woke one sticky night feeling that familiar tightness in my pussy and recalled dreaming of sex. Sex with Harrison Ford. (Every girls wet dream at some point I think.) My hand strayed to my battered sex and found it wasn't battered physically anymore. Just somewhere in my mind. I felt the prickle of new pubic hairs against my palm and enjoyed the touch of myself for the first time since Robert had taken his pleasure from me. I traced the full lips and slid a finger between them to flick lightly at my clitoris. It felt good! I guess I was kind of surprised. I continued my tentative exploration of myself, reaquainting my fingers and my body all at the same time. I slept with the radio on most nights to drown out the fighting of Lila and my great-grandfather and now the dj announced U2's "New Years Day" as I began to pleasure myself. My right hand worked my clitoris and the left fondled and toyed with my breasts and nipples. Just me myself and I as the music played, each moving to a crecsendo. Out of curiousity my left hand slid lower and I probed my tight vaginal entrance with my middle finger. I expected pain, but found again, pleasantly, that it simply felt good. I worked that finger into my slick pussy as far as I could and moaned into the pillow as Bono howled the climax of the song, pumping my hips against my fingers. The tears that slid from my eyes were as much from pleasure as from relief. I continued to play with myself after the first orgasm, as much from the desire to get off again, as to see if the first time was a fluke. It wasn't, thankfully, and I quickly came again while The Fixx's song, "Red Skies at Night" played in the background. I slid easily into sleep and didn't wake until late the next day. Refreshed from a dreamless sleep. And with the knowlege that I could still get myself off. At least I wasn't dead. Or frigid. (Like that bitch Lila, she hadn't slept with my poor great- grandfather in years. I thought maybe that was a blessing at some point though.) So, I could get myself off. But could I get off while fucking a guy? I'd have to find a willing participant to test my theory. I would have sex, but it would be on my own terms. No more taking what anyone gave me passively. Those days were over. I could make my own decisions. My first conquest was a guy I'd known from eighth grade. John M. Dated the school bitch. Don't get me wrong, Christy wasn't a slut, she really was just a bitch. Snide, mean and nasty all the way around. Treated the guy like a dog. He lived a couple of blocks down from me and it wasn't hard to get his attention away from the interminable basketball games he played. A couple of tight tank tops that showed my ample breasts off and some flirty looks and I was on my way. He kissed great. Very practiced but without the fun ardour of Chris. Chris P., who John made a point of bringing up when he figured out who I was. "You dated that little shrimp guy Chris didn't you?" he asked abruptly one day during a make-out session behind the grade school. "What would make you date a little fuck like that?" John pressed the issue. I paused for a moment, then took the offensive. "Because he had a great cock John. And he let me play with it all the time, before I moved away I got to suck him off," I replied smugly. "You're so prim and proper, you'll only kiss me and sneak a grab of my tits. Shit, you don't even know how to really play with them to make me feel good." His eyes were big as saucers! I'd insulted his 'manliness'. "Hell," I continued, "I'd fuck you right here if I thought you'd be game." The surprise on his face digressed to a trapped sort of look as I pressed my body against his, relishing again the feel of a hard cock pressing into my belly. He relented a little and said suddenly, "You're on Kris, I'd love to fuck with you." The school yard was deserted, his friends and I being hte only occupants during that summer and they'd left when he stopped playing, knowing that I had his full attention. I wore a short skirt and quickly pulled my panties down and off. Sliding them quickly over my sandaled feet and into his shirt pocket. He laughed and I unbuckled his belt and then unbuttoned his Levi's 501 jeans. (Those jeans sure were popular in the 80's and the sound of those buttons being popped is still guaranteed to make me hot and wet.) I caressed his dick through his underwear and gloried in the fact that I wasn't scared but in fact turned on by the whole thing. He slid the jeans down to his knees and pushed me against the wall of the second grade building. A bit taller than me, he lifted my left leg a little as I positioned his dick between my legs. His cock wasn't overly large, maybe six inches and felt wonderful as he pushed the head slowly up into me while kissing me all the time. I concentrated on the fact that I was allowing him to do this and realized happily that it was true and that while the element of love was far from this particular act, it was consensual and actually really great. He pushed the length of his dick to the hilt, still working into my tight pussy very slowly and carefully. I kissed him back and we fell to a comfortable rhythm, my back occasionally grazing the stucco'd wall with the force of his thrusting. It didn't last very long. In the "Letters" section, they always seemed to be fucking each other for hours, but now it was different. My own orgasm loomed brightly and I moaned into his mouth, that did it and I felt the head of his cock swell. He pulled his mouth away from me to look down a little oddly before I shattered against the wall with him pulsing deep inside my hot cunny. The walls of my passage gripped him tightly and he exploded with a grunt, flooding me with his cumm, surge after surge, spurting forth. I sagged a little against him and his dick popped out. I giggled at the slight sound it made and the tickle of cumm, dripping down my legs. He looked satiated and horrified all at once. "Oh god, I didn't even think to ask, are you on the pill?" John choked out. I broke out laughing, loud this time. "I am, you idiot" I replied between guffaws. The look of relief that flooded his face made me want a camera. We sank down together as he cradled me on his lap, kissing me and telling me how awesome I was and what a wonderful lover. The tentative "did you cumm" question was broached carefully and I easily told him the truth, yes indeed I had. John and I met a couple of times a week over the next couple of months, until Christy came back from visiting grandparents in Missouri. He told me that he wanted to break up with her and date me. I said truthfully that I had no such ideas or ideals about our relationship. I had only been interested in a good male body and whether or not I could function normally in the sexual sense. I didn't tell him all of that, just the part about enjoying the sex and that we should leave it at that. I won't forget the way he looked, leaning up against the North wall of Kindergarten room one. Sad, like he was losing something he really liked. I kissed him quick and hurried home, knowing I was in for another blistering by Lila for being out longer than an hour. I had satisfied my curiousity and my libido in one crack and I liked it. John had let me call the shots during our trysts with no questions. (As a pretty good looking fifteen year old, he was still probably in shock that he was getting laid.) The standard was set for me though, and now I had to look for someone to fill it. Fit the bill as it were. Who would let me call the shots and do what I wanted? I thought about my lists that night as I masturbated in bed that night, imagining John slowly stroking in and out of me. Just have to wait and see. Sophomore year was just around the corner. And the climax overtook me again. -- +----------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `--------------+ | | | | Archive site +----------------------+--------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | ----