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From: "Gil Gamesh" <gil04gamesh@cox.net>
NNTP-Posting-Date: Thu, 08 Apr 2004 12:34:03 EDT
Subject: {ASSM} The Measure of Man, Chapter 05
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Date: Thu,  8 Apr 2004 20:10:07 -0400
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The Measure of Man is a story of love and sex in the lives of a husband, a
wife, and their three children. The story spans almost four decades in their
lives and tells of their love for each other and for individuals outside the
primary family. The sexual acts described vary greatly but all are within
the realm of those practiced by normal human beings. The Measure of Man is
an epic adventure and will be told in approximately forty chapters.
Twenty-five chapters (1,449 KB) have been completed. Additional chapters
will be published at no specific schedule.

Codes: MF FF mf Mf mF MM Mult fant rom 1st teen cons het group voy safe oral
anal pett lac preg

http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Gil_Gamesh/www/

Feedback is always welcomed. Use your scissors on my e-mail address to send
comments, criticisms, or requests to:

gil04gameshcutthisout@cox.net


THE MEASURE OF MAN

An Epic by Gil Gamesh

05 - Innocence Lost and Paradise Found

As for you, Gilgamesh, fill your belly with good things; day and
night, night and day, dance and be merry, feast and rejoice. Let
your clothes be fresh, bathe yourself in water, cherish the
little child that holds your hand, and make your wife happy in
your embrace; for this too is the measure of man.

<><><>

CAST OF CHARACTERS:
Kieran Stuart, 26 in story, 15 in flashback
Sioned Stuart, 25 in story
Paul Andersen, 26 in flashback
Lauren Andersen, 23 in flashback

TELLING THE STORY:
Kieran Stuart

We lay side by side in bed, reading. The night was warm and the
windows in our bedroom were open. I wore just the knit shorts in
which I lounged around the house and occasionally slept, if I
slept in anything. My wife wore a soft pink nightgown with, I
knew, nothing underneath.

She dropped her book beside the bed, turned out the light on her
side, and curled up against me. When she placed her head on my
shoulder, her hair, that beautiful wild red hair, brushed over my
face. I started to protest that I wasn't finished with the
article in the magazine.

Her hand on my stomach silenced me. I waited expectantly,
wondering what she was thinking about. Her fingertips slid under
the elastic waistband of my shorts, downward, searching for my
penis. When she found it, curled down between my legs, she
straightened it out, toward my navel, covering it with her palm,
her fingertips moving gently on my testicles.

"Tell me about your first time?" Sioned asked.

"My first what?"

"Your first time with a woman, when you lost your virginity. What
was it like?  Who was it with?  What did you do?"

"If I tell you the whole story, you may wish that you'd never
asked me those questions.  There's one part of the story only
three people know.  If I tell you, you may learn something that
may affect the way you feel toward me."

"I can't think of anything that will make me feel change the way
I feel about you. You've piqued my curiosity now. I think you're
going to have to tell me. Why don't you want to tell me?"

"I promised her I'd never tell anyone about that afternoon.  What
she gave me that afternoon was the most valuable gift any young
man could get. I've never said a word about it to anyone."

"Why would she ask for such a promise from you?"

"Her name was Lauren. She was a married woman, with a baby girl
only a few months old. She was very much in love with her
husband, Paul. They even wanted to have another baby, hopefully a
boy. They moved away while she was pregnant with their second
child but I haven't heard from them since well before we married.
They've been married now for over twenty years.  And have two
children, a girl and a boy. I've seen the boy only once, when he
was almost two years old. They stopped by our house, during my
senior year in high school, on their way to visit her parents.
The baby boy looked exactly like his father."

"What did she look like?" my wife asked.

She was a breath-taking, heart-breaking, beautiful woman. She was
tall and slim and quickly regained her figure after their baby
was born. She had a beautiful face with large luminous gray eyes.
They were one of her most compelling features. She was a brunette
with close-cut short hair. I suppose I was as much in love with
her as a horny fifteen-year old could be. I know I was in lust
with her because I got a hard-on almost every time I was around
her. I know she must have noticed my attempts to hide my
condition. Her husband kidded me about it once and I just told
him I couldn't help it.

"How old were you when it happened?"

"I was fifteen, about a month or so from sixteen."

"And mature enough to appeal to an older, married woman?"

"I was certainly sexually mature enough. I had my first wet dream
in the middle of a July night, when I was thirteen. After that my
interest in sex almost drove me crazy for the next few years. I
couldn't believe that all men were afflicted with hard-ons as
frequent and demanding as mine. Before I went through puberty, I
never wanted other boys to see me nude; they would ridicule the
boys with small cocks. But by the time I was fifteen or so, I
didn't have to hide anything. The other boys saw me when I
showered at school.  I think most of them were envious."

"How did you meet her?"

"I met her husband first. Paul was a helicopter pilot for an oil
company, away from home for a week or so on occasion. When Lauren
was pregnant with their first child, her doctor placed
restrictions on the work she could do and what she could lift.
Her husband asked around the neighborhood for a kid who could
help her with housework and shopping while he was gone. They
lived only two blocks away from my family, I had just got my
driver's permit, and so I suppose I was perfect for the job. My
sister was in her last year of high school and more interested in
chasing boys than in part-time work. My brother had already
started college. My mother encouraged me to take the job. I
suppose she thought it would be a good learning experience for
me. I've often wondered if she knew exactly how good a learning
experience it was."

"I think you're beginning to break your promise, aren't you?  I'm
dying to hear more, but I'll understand if you want to stop."

"After so many years, when she's over a thousand miles away, I
don't suppose any harm could possibly come to her. Anyway, Paul
turned out to be one of the most interesting, likable men I've
ever met. He gave me flying lessons, took me to the gym with him
to work out, and took me fishing. In a few months, we were almost
like older and younger brothers. We even looked enough alike to
be brothers, with the same tall, slim build, fair skin, blue
eyes, and blond hair.

His wife accepted me with just as much warmth and friendship as
her husband. Almost all my free time was spent in their company.
When he was gone, I helped her, drove for her. I watched her grow
and become more beautiful in her pregnancy. When the baby was
born, I even went to the hospital with them. I felt jealous when
they let him be with her during the birth, and I had to wait
outside."

"Was he aware of how sexually developed you were? Was he
concerned about leaving you around his wife?"

"He saw me naked in the gym every time we went. The second time
or so, he commented on the size of my penis, but it was such a
friendly remark that it didn't even bother me. After that, I was
almost totally relaxed and open with him. The only discomfort I
felt was when I compared my body with his. He was taller than I
was then, very well developed from his routine at the gym and
from his work. He always seemed tanned all over. I was tall for
my age and on the skinny side, and it was years before my muscles
were developed like his."

"Are you going to tell me about losing your virginity?  What
happened between you and his wife?"

"When the baby was a little over six months old, he left on
Friday, to be gone longer than usual, almost two weeks. I was
supposed to go over on Saturday afternoon to stay with their baby
girl, because Lauren told me she wanted to go to a wedding. I
wasn't comfortable keeping the baby while she went out but my
mother had promised to be there in minutes if I needed help with
her. Anyway, that afternoon, I rang the doorbell and she answered
wearing only a soft purple robe, holding the baby. Her face was
beautifully made up, I assumed, to go to the wedding.

She sat down again, turned slightly away from me so that I
couldn't see the baby held against her breast. As she did, the
loose robe she wore fell open, showing her legs. She quickly
covered them again. If one swift glance was correct, she had
lace-like panties on underneath. She settled back in the chair,
draping a diaper over her shoulder and breast and the baby's
head.

"You're early, Kieran. Let me finish feeding the baby and then
you can stay with her for a few hours. She'll probably sleep most
of the afternoon."

I could hardly answer. My heart was beating faster and I could
not take my eyes away from her. I had probably seen more of her
in shorts and shirt when she was out working in the yard, but I
had never seen her in such an intimate situation. I simply stood
watching her. She looked at me or beyond me with a relaxed,
unfocused stare while the baby nursed.

After a few minutes, she changed the baby from her right breast
to her left, trying to hold baby, robe, and diaper to keep
herself covered. I saw one momentary flash of rounded breast. The
baby began to suckle noisily again and the combination of sight
and sound triggered a reaction in me that couldn't be controlled.
I began to get an erection. Standing there in front of her, my
face began to burn. I felt she couldn't help but see my
embarrassment and the bulge in my white tennis shorts. The briefs
I wore underneath my shorts held my penis downward, keeping me
from getting a full erection. But I could feel the blood pulsing
in it.

She looked up from the baby, directly at me. For a moment her
eyes held mine. If my eyes could see the questions in hers, I'm
sure hers could see the pleading in mine. Then she lowered her
gaze, looking directly at the straining bulge in my shorts. After
a minute more, she looked at my face again. It may have been my
fevered imagination but I thought I saw in her eyes a resolution
to whatever question she had been pondering.

"Come here," she said. "Would you like to see her nurse?"

I stumbled over to her, standing close, looking down at her and
the baby. She removed the covering diaper and I could see the
little girl with her face buried in her exposed breast. She moved
the arm holding the baby, to be more comfortable, and the baby
lost the nipple. For a moment it was exposed to me, the dark
circle around the erect nipple, with a drop of white milk hanging
on the end. But the baby greedily moved her head around, found
the nipple, and resumed her sucking.

"Some day, she'll be a beautiful young woman," she said. "I just
hope we can have a son as beautiful as she is."  My eyes were
fixed on her breast and the nursing baby. I dared not try to
speak.

Still looking down at the baby, she reached out with her hand and
touched me on the leg. I stepped back, confused about what I
should do. She caught me by the hand, pulled me back toward her,
and again put her hand on my leg, just below my shorts. I felt
sure my erection would rip out of my shorts. She moved her hand
lightly up and down on the side of my leg, almost
absent-mindedly, while she continued to watch the baby nurse. I
stood paralyzed, heart pounding, face burning with heat. Her hand
wandered higher and toward the rear, under my shorts until she
held me just at the joining of legs and body. She caressed me
softly again and again, as far as the now too-tight shorts would
allow. She even slid her fingers under the elastic of my briefs,
just behind my leg. I felt sure my erection grew another inch
from that one touch.

At length she looked up into my face again and, with her hand,
caught the front waistband of my shorts and pulled me closer to
her. She looked down at my crotch and then placed her hand there,
against me, as though measuring my penis. I held my breath at her
touch, not able to believe what she was doing. She tried to
squeeze it through my shorts, perhaps to judge its size or
hardness. Through all this, I was frozen still, unable to move or
speak. Finally, she released the one button at the top and then
pulled the zipper down. Next she reached to one side of my
shorts, then the other, and tugged them down to my knees. I
brought my legs closer together and let the tennis shorts fall to
the floor.

For a moment she did nothing except look at me, at my crotch. I
realized, standing before, her that no other woman had seen me
like this since before I started through puberty. As a kid I had
never cared if my mother or my sister saw me like this. But I had
become much more private as I grew up.

She reached out to me again, tentatively, cupped her fingers
underneath my testicles, and pressed her palm against the length
of my cock. I could feel an instant surge of heat in my face and
in my cock. I stood there, still unable to move.

Finally she caught the elastic waistband of my briefs and tugged
them down. I looked down to watch and I could see the pubic hair
there exposed and below that the shaft of my cock. With the baby
still sucking loudly, she reached out to me once again, encircled
the base with her fingers and tugged gently until my penis came
free.

If the downward angle and the tightness in my shorts had limited
my erection before, it now burst into full size and hardness.
Within seconds of being released, it rose at a forty-five degree
angle to my stomach. The head was totally uncovered and, with her
fingertips, she lightly touched it, stroking up and down,
encircling it, and teasing it. For a few minutes, she played with
me, her eyes closed, while the baby nursed.

Neither of us said a word. I couldn't speak.

She released me for a moment, pulled the robe away from her, and
uncrossed her legs. I had been right. She was wearing lace-like
bikini panties that hardly concealed anything. She spread her
legs to my view but, from above, I could see little of the area
between her thighs except for a few dark stray pubic hairs and
the indentation of a cleft. I could see both breasts, faintly
marbled with blue veins, the nipple of the free breast erect.

"Take your shorts off," she said.

I kicked my tennis shorts off over my sneakers and then pulled my
briefs down. As I pulled them off my feet, I almost fell, trying
to take them off with my shoes still on. Involuntarily, I reached
out, to her shoulder, to steady myself. When I straightened up, I
kept my hand there, my fingers just touching her bare neck.

As I stood there before her, completely exposed to her, my
erection pointing toward her, I saw her for an instant as a
mother, almost as my mother, and I realized that, for right or
wrong, I had to go through with what I had started.

Again, she put her hand on my cock. This time she stroked it from
the head down the shaft, and a drop of clear lubrication
appeared. She reached under and held my testicles, seeming to
weigh them in her palm. A gentle squeeze and then a stroke from
the base toward the head, again bringing forth a drop of clear
liquid. Again. The same pattern. A downward stroke, smearing the
lubrication until her hand felt like liquid heat, a touch under
my testicles, even behind them, the inside of my thighs, again
back upward, squeezing toward the head.

She held my cock from underneath, in the palm of her hand,
bending it downward, pointing horizontally toward her. She pulled
forward, watching as the foreskin almost covered the head. When
my cock was soft, the foreskin more than covered the head,
protruding beyond it a little, in a wrinkled circle of skin. But
when I had a hard-on, the foreskin covered only about half the
head. She seemed fascinated by it.

"I've never seen one that wasn't circumcised," she said.

She pulled the skin downward, back toward my stomach, stretching
it tight, causing my cock to swell even more. I could see the
head turn a deeper red from the renewed surge of blood being
pumped into it. Almost every time she stroked it, a drop of clear
lubrication was brought forth. She caught it with her fingers and
rubbed it over the head.

I knew I would come at any second and wanted to tell her to stop
but there was nothing I could say. I knew she could've done
anything she wanted to me at that moment and I couldn't have
stopped her.

She fixed her eyes on my cock, intent on what she was doing. I
realized she had to know the consequences of her actions and so I
accepted the finality of what she intended to do. She was going
to make me come, wanted me to come, standing here in front of
her, while the baby sucked on her breast. She wrapped her hand
around the shaft and began to move it up and down, slowly at
first, gradually faster until I knew I would come at any moment.

The realization that she wanted the result brought it on. I felt
the first agonizing contraction and I watched as the first spurt
landed on her breast, almost at the nipple. The next two or three
fell on her ribs and stomach, one just on the edge of her
panties. The last few did not fly out but merely oozed out of the
slit onto her still stroking hand. I watched in fascination as
she added it to the lubrication, which already covered the head
and shaft. And finally her touch became too much to bear on the
sensitive head. I reached down and held her hand still. She
looked up into my eyes once again.

"I'll put the baby to bed. She should sleep now," she said. "You
take your clothes off. We're going to take a shower."

<><><>

She left the room, her robe now open, with the baby still in her
arms. I saw for one brief moment her full breasts, her flat
stomach with its ivory-colored lace panties, and her full hips.
Then the back of the purple robe hid her and the baby from me.

I bent over quickly, unlaced my shoes, and pulled them off and
then my socks. As I pulled my shirt over my head, I was unable to
see for a moment. When I dropped the shirt to the floor and
opened my eyes, she was already coming back into the room; the
robe and panties were gone. She was completely naked. I was
almost breathless, seeing for the first time the beauty that a
woman can have.

She walked up to me and, looking up and down, said, "You're still
hard."

I too looked down at my penis, still erect, uncertain what my
response should be. Clearly she had expected it to be soft by
now. I felt no surprise since it was not uncommon at my age for
it to remain erect after one orgasm. I had no basis for judging
how common or uncommon my state was.

"It's too bad you're not tanned all over," she said, and smiled
at me. "Perhaps before the summer is over, we can find some way
to get rid of that white band around your hips."

For the first time I realized that she was tanned too, not as
dark as I, but with no white area around her hips or breasts.
Just as I began to wonder why, she wiped the thought out of my
head.

She took hold of my cock again with one hand and, with the other,
cupped my testicles. I had the impression that she was measuring,
weighing, judging what she held.

"Sit down here on the couch with me," she said. "I've got to talk
to you before anything else happens between us."

I sat beside her and she again took hold of my cock, softly
stroking it.

"Because of what we've already done, you've got to understand
that I've put my life and my husband's and our marriage in your
hands. If you let anyone else learn of this, you destroy us."

"I understand," I answered. "But why're you doing this?  You're
married to a good man.  I'm just a kid."

"You're only partially wrong. I agree Paul's a wonderful man. We
love each other very much. We have an almost perfect marriage.
There's only one problem, something you might help us with. I'm
not going to tell you about it yet. Trust me. He knows what I'm
doing. We've talked it over more than once."

I couldn't believe what she was telling me, that she and her
husband had talked about and agreed to her having sex with me.

"The two of you talked about me?" I asked.

"He knew when he left what I was going to do. There's a good
reason for it. Believe me, and don't ask any more questions for
now. And don't refer to yourself as a kid anymore. I know how old
you are. In two months, you'll be sixteen. But you're not a kid.
In most of the ways you act, you're as mature as most adults.
Judging by what I've got in my hand, you're more of a man than
most. When I saw the size of this in your shorts, I couldn't
believe it."

"But what do you feel about me?" I asked.

"I'm very fond of you, Kieran. You've become a very close friend.
Maybe there's even some love in my feelings. It's very close to
love, but it's not the same thing I feel for my husband. When I
look at you, I almost feel that you're his younger brother. Other
times, it seems like you're my husband, only ten years younger."

"But what about us?  You can see I'm not ready to quit for today.
I could never force you into anything. But you know I want more
than just your right hand. And what if I want it next week or
next month?"

"I think I can promise you that, for today, you'll have
everything you could want. Don't try to judge the rightness or
wrongness. I can understand your needs. You should try to
understand that mine are just as strong. When I saw you come in,
in those white tennis shorts, I thought you were the most
beautiful young man I'd ever seen. I still think that. And I want
you as much as I've ever wanted any man."

She squeezed my cock and stroked downward, stretching the
sensitive skin down from the head until I squirmed.

"And this is beautiful too. Don't ever let anybody ever tell you
it isn't. When I made you come, that was beautiful to me. What we
both felt at that moment is one of life's most mysterious ways of
continuing itself. As for the future and whether we ever repeat
any of today, you'll simply have to trust me. When you understand
why, you'll have a decision to make about whether we continue.
Even if we do make love again, there'll come a day when you'll
want to love other women. And I know I want to continue my life
with my husband."

"And for now?" I asked.

"I think we've done enough talking. I believe we need to do
something about this erection of yours. But first I have one more
question and I want an honest one-word answer. Are you a virgin?"

"Yes," I answered, embarrassed to admit it but honest.

<><><>

She lay on the couch, lifting one leg to rest on the back, with
the other bent, crossing over my legs. As she spread her legs
apart, I saw for the first time, in the flesh, a woman's cunt,
open, exposed, moist, pink. How can any man ever describe his
first acquaintance with this object of his desire?  I was
surprised at the small ridge or shaft, arising at the very top of
the cleft, spreading and thickening until it separated into two
small pink lips, like the petals of a flower, inside the darker
mounds on either side. And lower down, I could see the small
opening that waited for me. I was surprised at its placement. I
had expected it to be higher, more in front. I wondered how all
this mysterious plumbing worked, how she pissed, where the
clitoris that I had heard about was located, how the opening
could expand enough to hold my cock and how deep it would take
me, even how it could expand enough for the baby to come out
without damage. To me, it looked as fresh and virginal as any
picture I had ever seen.

"Touch it," she said, "I want you to."

I touched it, bringing my finger gently down the small shaft,
separating the lips, down to the opening into the depths of her.
I inserted my finger perhaps an inch and was amazed at the
slippery moistness and heat of her cunt. She caught my wrist and
pushed my finger in deeper, then withdrew it and moved my hand so
that my finger rubbed over the area just where the lips began to
separate. I felt a harder protrusion in the softness and I could
tell from the movement of her hips that she liked what we were
doing. And so I did it by myself, first inserting a finger into
her, finding the lubrication there, and then smearing it over the
hard bump, side to side, up and down. When I looked at her face,
her eyes were closed.

But it was the opening into her that held my interest. I inserted
my index finger slowly into her, finding no end to the depth
which would limit my cock when I put it in her, amazed still at
the tightness, the warmth, the lubricated feel of her flesh
there.

"Come, get on top of me," she said. "Be careful of my breasts.
They're tender and if you put your weight on them, we'll have
milk flowing. Keep your body raised above mine and watch as it
goes into me."

I moved to position myself as she instructed, holding myself
above her with my arms. I found myself in what I knew was a
perfect position when I considered the placement of the opening
into her and the angle of my erection. But with no hands free, I
could not seem to find the right spot to make it go into her. I
pushed gently once and it slid off solid flesh and to the right,
again and it slid upward toward her stomach, a third time and it
slid downward, between her thighs.

She reached down with one hand and held my cock in the right
place. I pushed gently and somehow knew it was right. The head
slipped easily into an indescribable cauldron of heat and wetness
and living flesh.

"Be slow and easy as you put it in," she whispered. "It takes
time for a woman's vagina to hold a penis as big as yours. I'll
stop you if it hurts. But if you take your time, I should be able
to hold all of it."

I began slowly by sliding the head into her for just an inch or
so, and then withdrawing until all of it was exposed. Each
insertion was as pleasurable or more so than the last. I watched
as my cock slid in and out, with each downward stroke opening her
up a little more, her cunt taking in a little more. Minute by
tantalizing minute, she opened and I found new depths to explore.
The lubricated friction of her cunt on the shaft and especially
the head of my cock gave me pleasure I had never dreamed was
possible. My body moved closer and closer to hers and I worked it
in deeper and deeper. With still an inch of the shaft exposed,
she seemed to pull away from me and I stopped, holding myself
absolutely still, waiting for a signal from her.

Somehow she changed her position, bringing her legs upward,
bending herself almost in half, her knees on the inside of each
of my supporting arms. She asked me to put my arms inside her
bent legs, behind her knees, and I did. She was totally open and
vulnerable to me now. I knew she wanted all of my cock in her. I
gave one, two, three, long slow strokes and watched as the last
of it disappeared into her. I looked up at her face and her eyes
were closed, her head thrown back, as though she felt some
combination of pain and pleasure I could never know. Somehow I
knew that I should simply rest, holding it still in her, savoring
the feeling of being immersed in her and letting her find her own
way of enjoying my cock buried in her, my testicles resting
against the soft warm mounds between her thighs.

Then she pushed me away with her hands and pulled me closer with
hands and legs. With slow movements, I slid the entire length
into her and then almost out. I felt her fingernails in my back.
I shut my eyes and slowly became engulfed in the red heat of our
fucking. My thrusts gradually quickened. Again and again, I
buried my cock to the hilt and then withdrew. All too quickly, I
knew I was coming again. I stopped my movements, to try to delay,
to prolong the pleasure. But I was beyond all control and I knew
suddenly the wonderful rightness of coming inside a woman.
Instinctively, I buried my cock again to the depths to let each
spasm deposit my semen into the core of her.

As the last of my contractions died away, she moved under me,
pressing her body even closer to mine, moving from side to side.
When the contractions of her orgasm began, I could feel the
strong spasmodic gripping and relaxation on the base of my penis.
Somehow I sensed that this was her equivalent to my coming, with
her contractions timed at seemingly the same intervals as mine,
strong and then fading.

We were both still and silent for a minute or two and as I slowly
became aware again of my surroundings, I realized we were pressed
close to each other, my chest against hers. My chest pressed down
her breasts and I felt a warm wetness between us. I raised myself
from her and looked down. Both her breasts were wet with milk,
the white tempting against the rose color of her breasts. She
opened her eyes and looked into mine.

<><><>

My wife interrupted my story for a moment. Her head was resting
on my stomach, the tangle of her scarlet hair blocking my view
from the mischief she was doing to me.

"I don't understand how her husband could go off and leave her
with you. Did he think of you as a kid or as a man?  Did he think
there was any possibility of something happening between the two
of you?"

"He certainly knew how curious I was about sex and how much I
wanted to learn what it was like to make love to a woman. When we
worked out at the gym, we often sat down somewhere to cool off
before we showered. Sometimes we'd sit and talk for a half-hour
or so. One day, we started talking about sex.  At first, I was
reluctant to open up because I was so inexperienced. But
gradually, I relaxed with him. He told me more about sex than I
had ever learned before. My parents were very open and loving in
their relationship and talked to me about sex but not
specifically what they did with each other. I was always talking
about it with my brother, but he was as dumb as I was. My sister
and I have always been able to talk about most things but it was
years before we were able to talk freely about sex. Anyway, by
taking to Paul, I learned about what a man and a woman can do
with each other and how it felt to do it. Paul was as totally
honest in talking about sex as anybody I've ever talked with."

"Did he ever see you with a hard on like this one," my wife
asked.

"Once, a couple of months before the events in this story
happened. In the men's locker area, there was a large shower room
with about ten heads. Lots of times, we were the only ones
showering. I'll admit I looked at his cock and balls, comparing
them to mine. He never seemed bashful about looking at me. On one
occasion, I was washing the head of my cock, with my foreskin
pulled back, and I started to get an erection. I looked at Paul;
he was watching me and grinning. He started soaping his own cock
and I watched as he got a hard- on too.  I grinned back at him
and stroked mine slowly, until it was standing up at its usual
angle.  We stood for a moment, looking at each other.  When we
heard a door open, Paul reached over and turned off the hot water
to my shower, then did the same to his.  It was a couple of
minutes before we could go out with our towels wrapped around us.
Later, when we were leaving, he put his arm around my shoulder
and said, "If they hadn't come in, I think we'd have finished
what we started.  Looking at you, I felt like sixteen again.  But
don't worry about it. We're both men and we both know all men do
it, whether they're sixteen or sixty."

"If he knew you were so preoccupied with sex, how could he leave
his wife with you to help care for her?"

"I believe we'd reached a level of trust and honesty almost as
high as that I have with you. When he left, I remember what he
said about his wife, that he was leaving me with the two things
most precious to him in his life, that he trusted me as he
trusted his wife, and that I should listen to her while he was
gone, that I was to do whatever she said, that it would always be
okay with him."

"Finish your story," she said, taking the head of my cock in her
mouth again.

In the shower later, we could not keep our hands off each other.
I had never experienced the wonder of a woman's body and, with
the warm water cascading over us, I tried to touch her
everywhere. Her breasts were still full and heavy but if my
touches brought forth any milk, the water quickly washed it away.
The nipples were soft and small at first and I was surprised to
see them become larger and harder as I touched them. I wanted to
suck on them but did not know if I dared. The cheeks of her ass,
I soon found, fitted perfectly into my hands as I held her
against me. I pulled her closer and curled my fingers around and
under, exploring places I had never before touched.

I had lost my erection with my second orgasm and had almost been
ashamed to let her see my cock when I withdrew. But she had still
been eager and loving, holding it in her hand again even though
it was covered with the liquid remains of our lovemaking,
touching it affectionately. Now, in the shower with her, it was
semi-tumescent, a half-hard-on. As I pulled her against me, her
breasts against my chest, her stomach against mine, my cock
nestled between her legs, I felt faint stirrings of another
erection.

Then she put her hand behind my neck, pulled my face to hers, and
kissed me for the first time. I closed my eyes and met her, at
first, with my lips together. Then her tongue pushed into my
mouth, touching mine, and the kiss turned into an open-mouthed
battle. As we stood with the warm water pouring over us, her
naked body pressed against mine, my hands cupping her ass, our
open mouths and tongues meeting, retreating, and then beginning
again and again, I felt the red heat of sexual desire building
again. My cock began to harden and to lift between her legs and
she opened them to hold it between her thighs. I used my
fingertips to press it against her and, at the same time, moved
my hips to slide it back and forth.

She stepped back, out of the direct path of the shower, and
reached for the soap. She rubbed it first over my chest, under my
arms, around my back, and, at length, as though she were able to
read my thoughts, over my penis and testicles. I leaned against
the shower wall, letting her soapy hands have their way with me.
I watched as she soaped and stroked it, long after it was more
than clean. I held out my hand for the soap and returned the
favor to her, over her breasts and stomach and back. But, when I
tried to touch her vagina, she caught my hand and stopped me.

"The soap might be irritating there," she said. "I'll clean it
later with just plain water."	

And then I learned the pleasure of rubbing my body, naked and
soapy, against hers. The touch of her nakedness against mine
brought my cock again to full hard throbbing erection. I
playfully poked it at the general area between her thighs.

Finally, she turned the shower on me and rinsed the suds away,
even reaching back between my legs to make sure that area was
clear of soap.  I did the same for her.

When we left the shower, she reached for a single towel and
handed it to me. She stood before me, with her arms held away
from her body and I needed no instruction to know what she
wanted. I gently dried her off and, as I touched her breast, one
single drop of milk emerged. I stood for a moment looking at it,
wanting to take the nipple of her breast in my mouth, but not
knowing whether I should or how she would react. Again she seemed
to understand my uncertain desire and, with her hand behind my
neck, pulled my face down to her breast. I sucked gently on the
erect nipple and felt the warm sweetness of her milk in my mouth.
She held my head in place while I nursed at her breast, just as
her child had done earlier. I would have been content to stay
there forever but, after a minute or so, she pushed me away.

"I want you to stand still, without moving. I'm going to do
something that my husband says is every man's secret desire."

I could not imagine what she meant and I stood puzzled while she
folded the towel into a pad and put it on the floor in front of
me. When she kneeled down, I realized but could not believe what
she was going to do.

She took my cock in her hand and squeezed it, evidently pleased
at its hardness, stroked back toward the base, placing an
exquisite tension on the sensitive skin and head. She brought it
downward, to a ninety-degree angle, pointing directly at her
face. With her other hand, she played with my testicles, teasing
gently with her fingernails in the area just behind them.

And finally she leaned forward with open lips and took the head
of my penis into her mouth.

In the years since, I've thought about that moment again and
again. I believe it was then that I realized a woman could
completely accept my male sexuality and could match it with a
hunger just as intense. Since then I've never felt shame or guilt
in anything I do sexually. I believe she gave me the freedom to
totally enjoy my sexuality and that of women.

At first she took only the head into her mouth. I could feel her
lips gripping the shaft and her tongue moving against the
sensitive area just under the head. She was careful with her
teeth but occasionally I felt their hardness and experienced a
touch of anxiety for what I had entrusted to her. She sucked on
the head, sliding it out of her mouth, while with one hand she
pulled the skin tight toward my belly.

With her other hand, she touched the inside of my legs,
indicating that she wanted me to spread them slightly. I did and
she reached between, back to my buttocks. She ran her hand softly
over them and then the fingertips down the crack between them.
Then back again to my ass, pulling me forward just an inch or so,
to indicate that I should move the head of my cock in and out of
her mouth. I followed her instructions, moving just slightly,
careful not to insert it so far as to cause her to choke.

With one hand she held my cock down, angled into her mouth. The
other hand was all over the area she could reach. She felt the
inside of my thighs, my testicles, and the ticklish area just
behind my buttocks. The combination of mouth and hand gradually
brought me to a state of sexual unconsciousness in which I could
sense only that part of my body she was touching. All awareness
of who I was, where I was, the outside world, faded away.

I felt the first faint tension buildup of another orgasm. A
question floated up out of the recesses of my mind, whether I
could again reach orgasm so soon. With the doubt came the
uncertainty on whether she wanted me to come in her mouth:  what
would she do with it?  I put my hand on her head and tried to
push her away, to signal to her that I was about to come.

She understood but refused to stop. I gave up completely to what
she was doing, and with eyes shut, surrendered to the
indescribable pleasure of her mouth and hands on me. I felt the
first crest and release of tension, almost painful in its
intensity. Then the point of no return was reached and my body
reacted by pouring out its semen. Through it all, she kept her
mouth on my cock, swallowing, almost gagging, but evidently
determined to see this through to a conclusion. When the last
contraction had faded away, she moved away from me, looking at
the head of my cock. With her hand, she milked it downward,
bringing out the last oozing drops. Again, she took it in her
mouth, swallowing, determined to have all of it.

I stood still through it all, watching in disbelief, at the last
of her performance.

She stood up, smiling at me, and began to push me out of the
bathroom. "Go in the kitchen," she said, "and fix us a glass of
iced tea. You'll find a pitcher I made at noon in the
refrigerator."

My wife interrupted my story again. I was propped against the
head of the bed, my legs extended straight and together. She was
sitting quietly astride me, leaning forward over me, my cock
buried in the depths of her. Between us, I could see none of the
shaft of my cock, only the mixed tangle of her red pubic hair and
my blond hair.

"I like to suck your cock, too," she said. "It makes me all hot
and wet in my cunt, just to know how much pleasure it gives you.
Does it affect you that way, when you use your mouth and tongue
on me?"

"The taste and smell do something to my cock. I've always got a
raging hard-on when I'm down there on you."

"How many times did you come that afternoon?" she asked.

"Four times in all."

"You've only told me about three of them. Finish your story."

I made large glasses of iced tea for both of us and stood,
leaning against the kitchen counter, drinking, while I waited for
her. I wondered what was next, if anything, on our agenda. I was
unsure whether she would want any more from me or, if she did,
whether I could give it. Somewhere deep inside myself, I knew I
wanted to fuck her again. But I had never had three orgasms in
the space of a few hours before. Could I possibly have a fourth?

I heard water running and splashing in the bathroom and I
wondered what she was doing. Then I remembered something she had
said about washing herself with plain water. I tried to picture
what she was doing but my ignorance left me unsure.

After a few minutes, she joined me in the kitchen, still
completely nude. Again I could not take my eyes off her. Her full
breasts and rounded hips, all the curves and valleys, held me
fascinated. She drank from her glass of tea and then stood still.
At length, I raised my eyes to her face. She was smiling as
though amused at me.

Slowly, deliberately, she lowered her eyes, looking up and down
my body the same way I had looked at her. Her gaze settled on my
penis, completely soft now, and my testicles, relaxed and hanging
lower too. Without a word being spoken, I understood what she was
saying.

We both stood, leaning against the kitchen cabinets, drinking the
iced tea, and talking about the weather, school, babies, sports,
flying, everything except sex and love. After a while, she found
cold ham in the refrigerator and a loaf of bread. We stood,
slicing off small bites, dipping them in mustard, eating them
with the bread.

Finally she brought up the subject we were both thinking about.
"Do you want to go to bed with me, to learn how to make love to a
woman, to please her as well as yourself?" she asked.

"Yes," I answered, "but I'm not sure what to do or what you
expect from me."

"The first time I touched you, a couple of hours ago, you came
within two minutes or so. The second time, about thirty minutes
later, when you were inside me, you probably lasted four minutes
or so. And the third time, you probably only took three minutes
or less. I didn't time you. Those are only guesses."

"You're saying I'm too quick to come, that I should last longer?"

"No, at your age, as new as sex is to you, I don't think you
could have done anything different. The point I want to make is
that you can learn to control what you do, to prolong the
pleasure. When you do, you'll understand that sex can be a long,
wonderful journey. And when you arrive, at orgasm, the conclusion
delayed can be doubly pleasurable. Would you let me teach you?"

"Yes. But let me go to the bathroom first."

"I'll be waiting for you in bed. When you're through, bring the
bottle of baby oil from the shelf...and two towels."

In the bathroom, I lifted the toilet seat lid and tried to
relieve myself quietly, aiming the stream against the side, not
directly into the water. My bladder was distended from the long
delay and from the iced tea. I shuddered in relief.

As I turned, I noticed a bar of soap near the sink, a kind I had
not seen before. I picked it up and smelled it, inhaling the
scent, recognizing it as one I had smelled on her before. On
impulse, I turned on the hot water and, leaning over, scooped it
up to pour it over my cock. I worked up lather in my hands,
washed everything clean, then rinsed and dried it. And last, I
put a few drops of baby oil in my hand and rubbed it over the
head and shaft of my penis.

<><><>

I had never been in her bedroom before. When I walked in, she had
drawn the drapes and had left only one dim light burning, on a
chest directly opposite from the bed.

She was on the bed, propped up on pillows, her legs together, and
crossed. As I walked over to the foot of the bed, she spread her
legs slowly, exposing herself to me. The word cunt somehow popped
up in my mind and I wondered at all the absurd images I had
connected with the word and the wonderful reality of what I saw
before me. And as I watched, she bent her knees and spread them,
letting me see clearly in the light shining down on her what I
wanted more than anything else.

For years afterward, whenever my memory brought up an image of
her, it's the way she was then. Her hair was tousled, spread over
the pillow. Her eyes were fixed on my face. Her breasts were
still full, even lying down, but the nipples were now soft and
relaxed, hardly protruding. Below her rib cage, her stomach was a
shallow bowl. And then there was the part I knew my eyes would
never tire of seeing. At the base of her stomach, a soft mound
rose, covered with light brown hair, the hair curling downward
between her legs. Her knees were bent upward, exposing to me the
soft insides of her thighs, the cheeks of her ass. But there, in
the center of it all was the eternal mystery of a woman. I wanted
to touch her, to taste and see her, and ultimately, to bury my
cock inside her again. As I watched, she reached down with one
hand and spread the lips wider, until I could see the moist, pink
flesh surrounding the small opening. She held out her other hand
toward me.

I lay down beside her, curious as to what she intended.

"I want you to use your sense of touch, to become familiar with a
woman's body. Spread the towels out on the bed."

As I did, she picked up the bottle of baby oil, handed it to me,
and then lay down on her stomach.

I needed no further instruction. I started with her shoulders,
coating my hands with the oil, gently massaging her. Then to her
feet and gradually up her legs toward her ass. At first she kept
her legs close together, but when I began to knead her ass and to
run my fingertips down the crack, she spread her legs, giving me
the opportunity to explore there.

After a few minutes, she turned over. I started again, at her
shoulders. Then down to her legs, back to her stomach, down to
her thighs, gradually moving toward the center of her. Again she
spread her legs, wider this time, offering everything to my
touch. With my oiled fingers, I teased the small inner lips,
watching them separate, almost as if of their own will, until her
cunt was totally open to me.

She caught my hand, holding it still, and I looked back to her
face.

"Now, use just your senses of smell and taste," she whispered.
Concentrate on what you experience through your nose and mouth.
As you do, try to be conscious of what you feel inside yourself."

I was surprised at what she said, realizing that it mirrored
exactly what I knew I wanted to do.

I leaned half across her, burrowing my face in the curve of her
shoulder and throat, closing my eyes. The smell of her flesh and
the soap she had used and the baby oil I had rubbed on her, all
filled my nose. I opened my mouth to bring my lips and tongue
into contact with her. Then, with eyes still closed, I moved
downward toward her breasts. At first I simply rubbed my face and
lips against then, avoiding the nipples, teasing, waiting for
encouragement from her. Then she put her hands behind my head,
guiding my mouth to the nipple. It was erect against my tongue. I
played with it, without sucking, trying to get a response from
her. After a minute, her hands tightened their grip and she
pulled me harder against her. I began to nurse at her breast,
just as her baby had done earlier, trying to pull the milk from
her. When the sweet, warm milk began to spread over my tongue, I
felt the first surge of a new erection beginning.

I moved my head downward, toward her stomach, my tongue tracing a
trail from breast to navel. Underneath her skin, I could feel her
stomach muscles tighten. I waited again, wanting to explore
further, hoping for her approval, but unsure. Then she put her
hands against my head and pushed gently, downward.

I sat up suddenly and looked at her face, to be sure that she
wanted what I also wanted. Her smile was answer enough.

I changed my position, moving lower on the bed, directly between
her legs. The image I had seen when I first came into the bedroom
came back to me and I put my hands under her knees, lifting them,
spreading them, until her legs were raised, open, inviting me to
the mystery between them.

Again I closed my eyes and, lying flat on my stomach, moved
closer to her. My cheek grazed against her thigh and I followed
it downward, closer and closer to her. I felt the first tickling
touch of the hair surrounding her cunt against my lips and nose.
I inhaled deeply, trying to draw in the scent of her. Again, I
smelled the soap and baby oil but mixed with an aroma I had never
experienced before. I explored the area between her thighs using
only my nose and lips, keeping my hands on her legs, determined
to give her the same pleasure I had been given earlier.

At length, I began to use my tongue to explore. At first, I
encountered only the tangle of pubic hair and so I briefly opened
my eyes to find my way. I traced my way down the small shaft
toward the opening below. Just at the point where the inner lips
of her cunt began to open out, I felt a small hard bump, almost a
protrusion. I knew I had finally found her clitoris and I used my
tongue to tease it, moving up and down against it, side to side.
She responded by opening her legs wider and, again with her hands
on my head, pulling me against her. For a minute or two I let her
hold me there, letting her enjoy the pleasure I was evidently
giving her.

But I wanted the last of her, just as she had earlier completely
surrendered her mouth to me and used it to accept the semen she
evoked from me. I moved my mouth and tongue lower still, seeking
the opening into her. My nose was filled with the musky scent of
her, my mouth and lips and tongue wet with the secretions from
her. I tried to use my tongue to penetrate her. She was moving
against my face now, unable to hold still. Finally, I began to
lick her, from the lowest reaches between her thighs, over the
wet opening into her, over the hard protrusion, back again, and
again. I was drowning in her. I continued, losing awareness of
anything but the scent and taste and feel of her cunt. Perhaps in
subconscious response, I moved my hips against the sheets of the
bed. The dry friction caused a moment of pain in the head of my
cock. I stopped for a moment and, on my knees, rose up to look at
her. She was spread before me like a feast. While she watched, I
took my cock in one hand and held it, wanting to bury it in her.
But, finally, I waited for her instructions, determined to bring
her to orgasm with my mouth and tongue, if that was what she
wanted.

Without a word, she pulled me further up the bed, beside her, and
pushed me down on my back. I waited, determined to do whatever
she wanted.

She straddled my legs, just looking down at me for a moment. Then
taking my cock in her hand, she began what I can only describe as
milking it. She squeezed at the base and stroked upward, toward
the head, while her thumb pressed against the underside of the
shaft. After a few strokes, I saw a drop of clear lubrication
appear. She rubbed it over the head and stroked it again and
again, bringing forth more and more of the liquid. I wondered
where it was all coming from, how I could continue after all the
fluids that had come from me already in one afternoon. When the
head was coated and slippery to her touch, she moved upward, over
my cock. Her head was bent downward so she could watch what she
was doing. Her hair blocked my view. But when she again took my
cock in her hand, holding it into position, I knew what was about
to happen.

She was wide open now, wet with a combination of my saliva and
her lubrication, so that the head of my cock slid into her
quickly. She held herself just on the tip of it, moving around
and around, in and out, head hanging, watching. I closed my eyes,
lost in the sensations, unmoving, letting her have her way.

She continued for a few minutes, finding her own pleasure. I
could hear her breathing become louder and more rapid. And then
she changed her pattern, lowering her hips so that more of my
cock slid into her. Gradually she took it in, now with slow,
long, up and down movements. When she reached the base of the
shaft, she slowed, as though uncertain whether she wanted it all
or not. She seemed to be searching for something, her movements
now jerky, not at all as rhythmical as before. I held back,
determined to let her find her own way.

She threw her head back, face upward. I looked at her; her eyes
were closed. When I looked downward, I could hardly see where my
cock was buried in her. Her pubic hair was entangled in mine.
When she moved upward slightly, I could see the base of my cock
as it disappeared into her, the lips of her cunt red and
glistening with wetness, stretched wide to hold me. Then downward
again, until I felt her pubic bone against mine. With one hand,
she reached down between us, until her fingertips disappeared in
our co-mingled pubic hair. I watched in fascination as she began
to rub her clitoris, using a slow circular motion. Occasionally,
she would stroke lower, to find the lubrication that flowed out
of her cunt around the sides of my cock.

So at last she found that combination which brought her to
release. I felt the series of contractions begin, gripping the
base of my cock, releasing, squeezing again, stronger, then
gradually fading away.

She rolled over, pulling me on top of her, my cock still inside
her. When she opened her eyes, I saw tears there.

"Now fuck me," she said.

Her cunt was dripping wet now, hotter than ever, gripping my cock
with a pleasure I had never known was possible. I began to slide
it in and out, slowly at first.

With her hands, she brought my head downward to hers, her open
mouth against mine. Her tongue teased me and I pushed mine into
her mouth, fucking her that way as I fucked her below. I shoved
my cock into her cunt unmercifully, in to the hilt, out as far as
possible without losing contact, and then in and out again,
taking my pleasure with no thought for hers. I could not stop and
neither could I find the orgasm I sought. Her legs were wrapped
around me, pulling me against her even harder. I slammed against
her, shoving it in, with no tenderness or care, fucking her with
a savage desperation.

Then she began to come again, rigid, whimpering into my open
mouth, wave after wave of contractions squeezing her cunt around
my plunging cock. In some recess of my brain, I marveled at this
new miracle, that she could come again so soon, and that it could
last so long, longer than I ever could.

Finally, something triggered my own orgasm, the first strong
contractions beginning deep inside me, flowing downward and out
of me. I shoved my cock to the depths of her one last time,
wanting to bury myself entirely in her. We were both still,
rigid, muscles locked, while my body poured out its semen in a
series of long, drawn-out waves.

When I became conscious of my surroundings again, my head buried
in Lauren's throat and shoulder, my nose in her hair, I could
hear the baby playing in the other room, making noises to
herself, rattling something in her crib. Lauren held me still
against her, making no effort to push me away. Finally she said
quietly, into my ear, "I want you to get dressed and go now.
Don't try to say anything. Remember your promise to me. When my
husband comes back, we'll talk to you and you'll understand."

I pushed back away from her, my cock still in her cunt but soft
now, almost swollen. I watched for one last time, as I pulled it
reluctantly, slowly, out of her. It was covered with my own semen
and her fluids, even the pubic hair around the base. Her cunt was
open, the lips red now, the white froth of our fucking streaked
over them. As I watched my cock leave her, one last wet string
momentarily stretched from the head of my cock back into the
depths of her. While I watched, the connection broke. White
drops, either from my body or hers, oozed out of her, downward,
into the crack of her ass. I watched, still fascinated,
shuddering that I could still want more of her when I knew my
body was no longer capable of any sexual act.

Through the last of my story, my wife had been silent, lying
quietly on top of me, my cock still buried in her cunt, letting
me tell it all. The room was dark now and I wondered where the
light had gone.

"Did you ever make love to her again?" she asked.

"You asked me to tell you how I lost my virginity. I've told you
that?  Why would you want to know more?"

She laughed softly. "A good storyteller always gives the listener
one last touch, to raise curiosity about what happened next."

"Then I'll tell you this. Before the summer was over, I found out
why Lauren and Paul were both tanned all over. They invited me to
spend some weekends at their cabin with them. It was totally
isolated. Before the summer was over, I was as tanned as they
were."

"A good storyteller also pulls all the parts of his story
together. I don't understand why she, and especially her husband,
wanted her to make love with you."

"Her husband was infertile. They had spent thousands trying to
conceive the first time, before they decided to try artificial
insemination. The whole process was very difficult for them. It
was especially difficult accepting the fact that they could never
know whom the sperm donor was and how closely the donor's genetic
traits would match theirs. They were very happy with their little
girl but they decided to do it their own way with their second
child."

"What do you mean?" my wife asked.

"They decided that the sperm donor would be someone they knew,
who would inseminate Lauren in the old-fashioned way.  I told you
their boy looked exactly like his father. They even named him
after me."

TO BE CONTINUED:


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