Message-ID: <47336asstr$1081476602@assm.asstr-mirror.org> Return-Path: X-Original-To: ckought69@hotmail.com Delivered-To: ckought69@hotmail.com X-Original-Path: not-for-mail From: "Gil Gamesh" X-Priority: 3 X-MSMail-Priority: Normal X-MimeOLE: Produced By Microsoft MimeOLE V6.00.2800.1165 X-Original-Message-ID: NNTP-Posting-Date: Thu, 08 Apr 2004 13:41:59 EDT X-ASSTR-Original-Date: Thu, 8 Apr 2004 12:42:01 -0500 Subject: {ASSM} The Measure of Man, Chapter 08 Lines: 1430 Date: Thu, 8 Apr 2004 22:10:02 -0400 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation X-Story-Submission: X-Moderator-ID: dennyw, hoisingr 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 08- Sex at Thirteen 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, 27 in story, 13 in flashback Sioned Stuart, 26 in story, 13 in flashback Jason_____, 13 in flashback Allison_____, 13 in flashback TELLING THE STORY: Sioned Stuart Kieran Stuart (SIONED) Our son, Kavan, was about six months old when my husband's parents offered us an unusual present for our third wedding anniversary: they asked to keep the baby on Saturday night, to give us a night when we could be free of parenting cares. My husband and I were invited to a dinner party on Saturday night with a group of friends. One couple provided the house and all the others prepared the meal. We had been asked to bring dessert. I spent Saturday afternoon making apple pies and, at the same time, playing with Kavan. Late in the afternoon, I gave him his bottle and put him down for a nap. I had been reluctant to stop breast-feeding him; I wanted to continue that wonderful closeness. But now I realized how much I looked forward to letting someone else care for him for one night. For the first time, I prepared for him to leave us, packing his food and bottles, diapers and pajamas. His grandparents were to pick him up at six o'clock. The afternoon had been sunny and hot. My husband had worked outdoors in the yard, in just shorts and sneakers, with a towel nearby to wipe away the sweat. I stood watching him more than once. Even dirty and sweaty, I still found him beautiful to look at. I admired the movement of the muscles in his back and arms as he moved the stones he was using to build a wall. I was more than mildly aroused looking at his rear, when he bent over to place the stones. Just before five p. m., he stopped and came in the house. I heard first the shower running and then his humming as he shaved. After a few minutes passed and he didn't come out of the bedroom, I wiped my hands and went looking for him. He was lying on the bed, with the room darkened and the overhead fan blowing down on him. He was at the foot of the bed, his legs bent, his feet resting on the floor, with a pillow under his head and his eyes shut. As I walked in, he raised his head, opened his eyes briefly, and smiled at me. "I've had a little too much sun and heat," he said. "I just wanted to rest for a few minutes before I got dressed." I stood, looking down on him, finding more than a little pleasure in knowing that he was my husband and knowing that he was one of the most beautiful men I had ever seen. He was naked except for a damp white towel spread across the middle of his body. His shoulders, chest, and legs were pink from exposure to the sun. His stomach was flat, almost concave, as he lay on his back. Under the towel, I could clearly see the outline of his penis, pointing downward. I sat down on the bed beside him and we talked about the people who would be at the dinner. After a few minutes, I started to leave. "Don't go," he said. "Stay just a little longer." "I need to clean up the kitchen before I get my bath," I answered "It can wait until tomorrow. I can't." "What do you mean?" I asked, even though I knew the answer. "Touch me," he whispered. I cupped my hand over the mound in the towel, feeling his testicles with my fingertips, his penis pressing against the palm of my hand. It was soft but, as I held it, I felt its first slow firming. "You smell like apples and cinnamon and cloves and brown sugar," he said, and with a grin, "I'd like to eat you." I slid my hand under the towel and rearranged his penis, pointing it upward toward his navel. When I put my hand, palm down, against his penis, I could feel it firming again even more, in that stage just before it surged into full erection. I looked at his face and his eyes were still closed. I turned around on the bed next to him, resting on my left side, my left arm beside his legs for support. I pushed the towel upward on his body, exposing just his testicles and, with one finger, I began to trace circles around on his scrotum, feeling the firm egg-like glands under the softer skin. I always wondered what peculiar combination of genes had caused him to have relatively little body hair and almost no hair on his testicles and at the same time had caused him to have genitals which were larger than most men's. As I played with his balls, I could see the response in his cock, even covered with the towel. The towel slowly lifted, quivering, until it stood away from his stomach. I was amazed that something so soft only a few minutes ago could now lift the towel that covered it. I pushed the towel further upward on his body, leaving it spread across his stomach, and uncovered his penis. It was erect now, lifted at an angle away from his body, reaching almost to his navel, the foreskin retracted, exposing the reddish-purple underside of the head. From my viewpoint, it seemed like an arrow; I knew how it could pierce to the heart of me. As I looked at it, I felt that familiar hunger to feel it inside me, that emptiness wanting to be filled. Rationally, I knew we had no time for the leisurely lovemaking I preferred. Kavan's grandparents would be coming in less than an hour. We needed to leave shortly after that for the dinner party and I hadn't even showered yet. "Please, don't stop," he whispered, again without opening his eyes, just those two words. I decided to give him what he wanted. I also determined to get what I wanted later, when we returned from dinner. I left for just a moment, to get a bottle of baby oil from the bathroom. When I was back, I dripped a generous trail of baby oil from the head of his penis downward over his testicles. I started again with his testicles, gently coating them with the oil, lifting them, caressing them, watching the effect this had on his penis, as it changed its angle from his stomach. When I put my hand on his penis, it felt hot to the touch, heavy in my hand, and too large for my fingers to reach around. I started to stroke it slowly, sliding my encircling hand from the head down to the base and then back up again. When he groaned softly, I began to increase the speed of the strokes. I changed my position so that I could hold his testicles with one hand, pulling gently downward on them, while with the other I continued the same long strokes up and down on his penis. Within a minute or so, I felt a tension in the muscles of his legs and hips. I increased the speed of my strokes again, determined to make him come to orgasm this way, to save my own need for later tonight. Even so, the suddenness of his ejaculation surprised me. The first spurt lifted out of the slit on the head of his penis, flying a foot or more into the air, in a continuous white stream, falling back on his stomach. This was followed a split second later by another, even longer stream, that fell back on my hand and on his stomach. I counted five separate, gradually-diminishing ejaculations, which flew into the air and back onto his stomach or my hand. As I continued to stroke his penis, I could feel his whole body responding, as though it were too much to bear. The semen continued to flow, oozing out now in smaller amounts as I watched. Looking at the opalescent puddles on his stomach and on my hand, I was amazed at the volume of his ejaculation. I understood why my cunt seemed to constantly overflow after we made love. "You can stop now," he whispered, eyes still closed, a smile on his face. I used the damp towel to wipe him clean and then watched quietly as he lost his erection. Only then did I take his hand and lead him into the shower with me. We were both getting dressed when he brought up the subject of what had happened. "I feel kind of silly after what I just got you to do," he said. "I feel like a little boy caught doing something he shouldn't." "You didn't get me to do anything," I answered. "I did something because I wanted to. You might have got the most fun out of it but I enjoyed it too." "I don't know why I acted that way. When you sat down on the bed with me, it was if my dick took control of my brain. I don't think I'd thought about sex all afternoon and, suddenly out of nowhere, my cock decided it wanted to be satisfied. It sort of told me to stay out of it, to just lay back and shut up." "I hope it enjoyed my services. Believe me, it put on quite a show. It erupted like Mount St. Helens." "I wonder sometimes what you really think of me, I mean, as a man, of my cock and balls. I suppose I'm like most men. I don't really know what women think of us and our sexual equipment." "I can't speak for other women. I know what I think and how I feel about you, and that goes for what you've got between your legs too." "When we come back from the party tonight, will you tell me? I've told you about my earliest experiences with sex. Tell me a bedtime story about yours. When you saw a hard-on for the first time." "We'll talk about that later. Your parents will be here in a few minutes for Kavan." <><><> After the party, we were getting ready for bed when he brought up the subject again. He was stretched out on the bed, wearing a pair of silk paisley boxer shorts I had given him, watching me as I brushed my hair. I knew he'd put them on just so I could take them off. I put on one of my favorite nightgowns, an ivory-colored gown, trimmed with lace. I knew how he usually reacted to seeing me in it. More than once, he had referred to me as his "strawberries and cream" woman. On one occasion, he'd compared, in poetry, the red hair on my head with that between my thighs and the color of my nipples with the inner lips of my cunt. I found out that night that laughter could be one more form of sexual arousal. "Are you going to tell me a bed-time story?" he asked. "I'm not as gifted a storyteller as you are," I answered. "Besides, I'm not sure I want to tell you specific intimate details about my sexual history. I don't want to change the way you think and feel about me." "Oh, come on, Sioned. You know there's little chance of that. When you tell a story, change events if you want to. Even make it into complete fantasy. I'm just asking for the truth on one thing - how you really felt about your first encounters with a male and his cock and his balls." "I don't have to tell it exactly as it happened? You'll never really know what I did and with whom? Is that the way you want it?" "If that makes it easier for you to tell me about it," he answered. "And you're not going to question me about it later to find out what really happened?" "I promise I won't." "OK then. I first saw and felt an erect penis when I was thirteen," I began, and then paused, watching him. After a minute he encouraged me, "Go on. "I was baby-sitting with a neighbor's little boy. When I changed his wet diaper, I discovered he had a little hard-on." He laughed and crawled out of bed. I started to run but he was too quick. He caught me around the waist and, before I could get away, picked me up and carried me to our bed. He dropped me on the bed and then stood over me. "Before the night is over you're going to discover a big hard-on," he threatened, smiling. "But not until after you've told me a bed-time story." He crawled back in bed with me and I snuggled against him. "Well, my first real sexual experience with a man did happen when I was thirteen, almost fourteen. He wasn't really a man since we were the same age. I'd started developing about a year earlier. My breasts were about half developed and I'd been having periods for over a year. Jason and I were in the same grade at school and lived only a few houses from each other. We'd been friends, good friends, for years. He'd been trying to teach me to shoot a basketball. He'd invited me to his house one afternoon in June to practice... <><><> His father was sitting behind the wheel of their car in the driveway beside the house, as I came into their yard. As I walked up to the front door, his mother opened it and came out. "We're going to the grocery store," she said. "Jason's upstairs. He's lost his basketball. You know how he is about losing everything. Stick your head in and yell for him." She left the front door open for me, and then went to the car. I went into the house and called for Jason. I waited for a moment with no response. I called again, louder, and still received no response. I knew where Jason's room was so I climbed the stairs. The door to his room was almost closed, standing open an inch or so. I pushed it open. He was on his hands and knees, reaching under his bed, trying to pull something out. He looked up just as I opened the door. "My basketball is stuck under the bed," he said, standing up. We both realized at the same moment that he was wearing only three things, white cotton briefs and a pair of white athletic socks. "I was about to get dressed," he said, lamely. I suppose we were both embarrassed and unsure of what to do. I couldn't tear my eyes away from him. The last time I had seen him without a shirt, the previous summer, he had still been soft with baby fat. Now he was harder and leaner, the muscles showing through. The skin on his chest and stomach and arms and legs was clear and flawless, already tanned from the summer sun. The contrast of the white briefs with the tanned skin evoked a response in me that was totally new: I wanted to touch him, to feel his skin under my palm. I looked at the bulge in the center of his briefs, so different from the flatness I always saw when I looked down at my stomach. I tried to say something but couldn't make the words come out. As I turned to leave, he whispered, "Don't go." I looked back at him, one hand on the doorknob. "Don't go," he said again. "Shut the door. There's no one else home." I looked at his face, directly into his eyes, trying to understand what he was suggesting. Again, I stood for a moment, looking at him. Finally, I closed the door and stood still, waiting. He walked over closer to me, until he was only a foot or so away. As I put up my hand to stop him, he caught it, pulling it against his chest. When he released me, my hand stayed on his chest. I could feel the heat of his body, the small hard bump of his nipple. "I want to see what you're like, too," he whispered. "Will you let me?" My heart was almost pounding out of my chest and my mouth felt dry. I nodded my assent and he reached up and began to unbutton my shirt. His fingers were clumsy and he struggled with the top button. I pushed his hands away and quickly undid all of the buttons. He pushed the shirt off my shoulders and I let it fall on the floor. Now he was confronted with my brassiere. He stood still for a moment, looking down at my breasts. "How do you take that thing off?" he asked, his voice breaking. I reached behind and undid the clasp, leaving the bra still covering me, waiting for him to remove it. I watched his face as he slowly pulled first one strap and then the other off my shoulders and the bra joined my shirt on the floor. I held my breath when he placed his hand on my breast. I felt my nipple become erect under his palm. I put my hand back on his chest and we both stood quietly, our hands moving softly on each other. "Your breasts are so beautiful," he whispered. "Why are the nipples so hard when the rest is so soft?" When he moved closer to me, I stepped back, against the door. He pressed against me, his chest against mine, the softness of my breasts pressed down by the hardness of his muscles. "We can't do anything, you know," I managed to say. "I've never done it before." "Neither have I," he said. "We've got to stop," I said, without any conviction at all. "I know." "Then stop." "Not yet," he pleaded. "I won't try to do it all the way, I promise. But don't make me stop yet. I've never seen a girl, never really touched one before now. Don't make me stop." I knew I wanted it as much as he did. "You promise you won't try to go all the way?" I asked. "I won't. But let's not stop now." He took my silence for acquiescence. He reached behind me and pulled me against him and I could feel something firm and rounded pressing against my stomach. He tried to tug my shorts down and again I had to help him, releasing the zipper on the side. In seconds, my shorts joined my other clothes on the floor. I kicked my sneakers off and then I had on no more than he did. He pressed me back against the door again, his stomach and chest against me, holding me gently by the arms. He began to rub against me and I could feel the hardness in his briefs grow even larger and firmer. He curved his hands around behind me, holding my buttocks, and I followed his example. We were both gasping for breath now, pressing against each other. "I'm going to take your panties off," he whispered in my ear. "Will you let me?" "Yes," I answered. He caught the elastic at the waist and pulled down, peeling my panties down my legs, stooping down as he did, until I was able to step out of them. Then, without asking, he did the same with his briefs, peeling them down quickly, and kicking them to one side. For the first time, I saw how a man, or a boy, was made. Almost instantaneously, his penis came to full erection. He was circumcised and so the head was exposed, reddish-purple at the end of the white shaft. He was already developed enough to have light covering of pubic hair, matted down above and to the sides of his penis. His testicles were drawn up snug against the base, one lower than the other. I thought to myself how different this was from my own hidden mysterious organs, how beautiful and fascinating to see, so out front and exposed. He caught both my hands and pulled me quickly backwards to his bed. "I promised," he said, "and I mean it." I offered little resistance when he pulled me onto the bed with him. He pulled me against him and we awkwardly tried to figure out the proper placement of our arms. As I felt the whole of his body against mine, the hard protrusion of his penis against my belly, my heart began to pound even faster. When he brought his face against mine, searching for my lips with his, I was afraid for him to kiss me. I had never been kissed like this and, even though I had talked with other girls about it, I didn't really know what to do. We began with our lips pressed together, our mouths closed. Within a minute or so, our lips were open and his tongue was either in my mouth or mine was in his. Finally I pulled away. "I'm scared," I whispered. "We've got to stop." In response, he caught my hand, pulled it down between our bodies and placed it on his penis. In my inexperience, it seemed enormous, even though I know now it was only typical for a young boy part way through puberty. I pushed him back so I could look at it as I held it. I was fascinated by its hardness and the steel-spring elasticity that brought it back to the same angle over his stomach no matter which way I bent it. I reached lower and felt his testicles, feeling through the soft skin the rounded masses that moved so freely. He lay back for a few minutes, eyes closed, letting me satisfy my curiosity about his penis and testicles. "Now it's my turn," he said. "No, Jason, you can't," I answered. "Yes, I can. You wanted to see what I was like. I want to see you too. I want to touch you too. You've been looking at me and touching me. I didn't stop you. It's only fair that I get my turn." He pushed me gently back against the pillow and raised himself above me. When he pulled my legs apart, I yielded, wanting to feel his hands touching me down there. "You're hair is as red down here as it is on your head," he said. "It's beautiful." He curved one hand down between my legs, over my vulva, and held it there. I could feel a warm moistness inside me at his touch. He rose up until he was sitting beside me and, with one finger, began to explore. His touch made me burn inside. He looked intently, trying to find the opening into me, finally parting the inner lips, and discovering the moist opening into my vagina. Even though I was a virgin, I knew from my own explorations that the passageway would easily open to his finger. Quickly he found the way, sliding one finger into me, moving it around, exploring. "Does it hurt you?" he asked. "Can I put it in deeper?" At just that moment, a car horn sounded loudly in the street outside. He ran to the window, trying to see who it was. In my fear of being caught, I ran for my clothes. "It was just a passing car," he said. "But my parents could be back anytime now." We watched each other as we dressed. I almost wanted to protest when he pulled on his briefs, positioning his still-erect penis against his stomach. As we started to open the door, he caught me and pulled me against him. I started to resist but he kissed me quickly, an open-mouthed hungry kiss, and then pushed me away. "I promised. And I kept my promise," he said. <><><> "How do I know when to stop with this story?" I asked my husband. "You don't just stop," he responded. "Every story has a beginning and an end. You know when you've reached the end," he answered. "Then I suppose I've reached the end. As far as the first boy I ever did anything with, that's all that happened. I think we were both scared to death about it. Anyway, we didn't do anything else after that. They moved away some time later. I've wondered for years what would've happened if we'd had another occasion or two to be alone." "Didn't he try to get you to do anything else after that?" "He tried a couple of times but we just didn't have another good opportunity. But he certainly had a lot of success in the fantasies and dreams I had over the next few months." "Tell me about them," he asked. "I dreamed about him frequently for months after that. Even awake, I had fantasies about what it would have been like if he had put his penis in me instead of just his finger." "So he really got you hot and aroused, didn't he?" "A few nights after it happened, I couldn't go to sleep, thinking about it. I pulled my nightgown up and used my own fingers to find out what felt good. You might say he gave me my first orgasms." My husband pulled away from me suddenly and got out of bed. "Where are you going?" I asked. "Shut your eyes. I've got a surprise for you," he answered. I did as he asked and I heard him opening a drawer in his dresser and then the soft sound of fabric on skin. "You can open your eyes now," he said. He was standing at the foot of the bed. The paisley silk boxer shorts were gone. Now he had on fresh white briefs and white athletic socks. "I'm not your husband," he said. "I'm a thirteen-year old boy and I'm scared to death. I don't know what to do or how to do it either but I know I can't stop until I go all the way this time." I looked at the bulge in the front of his briefs and then up at his face. "I'm scared too," I whispered. "I've never done it before either. But I want to." <><><> (KIERAN) A few nights later, we were getting ready for bed again. Sioned was nursing Kavan and I was waiting to carry him to his bed after she burped him. "I'm going to start weaning him tomorrow. He's doing fine with solid food. I think he'll be OK with milk from bottles now." "How long will it take for your breasts to dry up?" I asked. "Not long. My gynecologist said it'd be just a few weeks for the milk to stop flowing - if I can just get someone to stop nursing." "Hey, don't look at me. I don't suck on them now. You fuss at me every time I try." "Yes, but even licking my nipples can still make the milk flow. You've got to help me." "If I can't get any milk, what's in it for me?" "When Kavan stops nursing, I can go back on birth control pills." "And I can stop using those damned condoms? Honey, I'll be glad to leave your tits alone for a few weeks." "And I can stop giving you so many blow-jobs, Kieran. Since you've had to use a rubber for regular sex, I think your frequency of blow-jobs has gone up." "Well, your doctor did say you could take the pill while you were nursing. She just said there was some research that advised against it." "I know. I just wanted to stay off them for a while longer. So much else comes through in my breast milk to Kavan, I just worried about the hormones in the pills." "Have you really been happy with your decision to breast feed? It sure seems to cause you a lot of inconvenience. You're always having to think about what might get through to Kavan." "I don't regret it. I wish you could know that feeling of closeness I have with Kavan from breast feeding him." "Honey, I can understand what closeness feels like. I wish you could know how I feel about having my dick inside you. It's sex but it's more than that. When I'm inside you, I feel like I'm at home, I'm where I belong, that life is perfect. Even with a rubber on, it's like that. But without a rubber, it's so much better. When there's nothing between us and it sort of feels like we melt together. I'm never happier than I am then." "Could we just forget the pills - and the condoms? We've agreed we're going to have another baby pretty close to this one. Maybe we should just let it happen. I'd be happy if it did." "Huh? You've got your hands full with Kavan. You think you can handle another one this quick?" "Kieran, I've been feeling you out about having another one for weeks now. I know I'm ready. Kavan's a good baby and doesn't give us much trouble. I'd like our babies to be less than two years apart. If I said I was ready now, what would you do?" "Well --- first I'd have my dick in you in about one minute flat. Second, I'd think about what a damn fool I am. You've got this all planned out, haven't you? "Yes, honey, I have. Now would you like to make love with me, no rubber between us, nothing to keep me from getting pregnant, knowing I want another baby?" <><><> I did. Once was not enough. Twice was not enough. I still wanted her but my dick told me to let it rest for the night. "Kieran, would you put a pillow under my hips?" I looked at her in disbelief. Sometimes I'd put a pillow under her hips before fucking her. This was the first time she'd asked for a pillow - and after she'd been fucked - twice. "Now tell me a story. I told you about me and Jason when I was thirteen. I want you to tell me about you and the first girl you ever fooled around with." "What? Dreams, fantasies, the real thing? And why the fucking pillow. Are you in that big a hurry to get pregnant?" "No, silly, I'm too lazy to get up and I don't want to overflow on the bed. Now come on, the story." <><><> "There was an incident when I was thirteen. Are you sure you want to hear this tonight? "Yes, just don't let me fall asleep." "OK. The incident was with Allison, cute little Allison. One real tomboy. Wonder what she's like today?" <><><> It all started when my Dad and a friend of his found a Studebaker Avanti for sale. Damn, that was one beautiful car, red and cream original colors and that Raymond Loewy styling! It'd been partially restored. They actually formed a legal partnership to buy it, finish restoring it, and then use it together until they sold it. Dad put it in our basement so they could work on it. Right after they bought it they were like little boys with a new toy. Almost every Saturday, they'd be down there in the basement, figuring out what to do next. I hung out with them a lot but they'd only let me be a gofer so I sort of lost interest. That is, until Dad's friend brought his daughter, Allison, along to spend the day. He was supposedly trying to keep peace with his wife by watching their daughter. I think he brought her just to get me out of their hair. She succeeded. Allison was a real tomboy at thirteen. I never saw her in anything but jeans and sneakers and shirt. Her shirts were always big oversized ones and I couldn't tell much about what sort of tits she had. I looked hard enough but there just wasn't much there. The first couple of times, I tried to stay with the car work until Dad chased me off, telling me to entertain my guest. My guest? OK, I decided to make her my guest. When Mom found us in my bedroom, sitting on the bed, close together, she said maybe I needed to entertain Allison outdoors. I asked her if I could take Allison for a walk down along the creek bottom. We'd been having a lot of rain that spring and the creek bottom had flooded a couple of times. It was back between its banks now but mud was everywhere. I guess I was hoping Allison wouldn't like the mud and wouldn't want to go again and I could get back to the car. Boy, was I wrong. She loved the mud. Mom made us go to her father to get his permission before we went down to the creek. I don't think her father was real eager to give her permission to go off with me. He kept asking if she'd be safe. My dad asked him what he meant - safe from snakes and mud or safe from me. He told his friend to ask me if she'd be safe. "Kieran, will Allison be safe with you? She's a good girl and I want to make sure she stays that way. Are you going to be a good boy with Allison?" My Dad probably knew what was coming. I looked his friend straight in the eye and said, "Hell no, she won't be safe. I'm a bad boy and it's my sworn duty to make every good girl into a bad girl." Dad dropped a tool with a loud clang and doubled over laughing. His friend almost dropped his jaw. I waited for a minute before I said anything else. "I promise sir, man to man, I won't let any snakes get her. Or me either." <><><> Allison didn't care if there was mud along the creek bottom. She didn't care if she got it all over. I had to show her everything and she had to crawl over, into, or onto everything. We were both filthy within an hour. I thought of one more place I wanted to show her. We called it the Indian Cave but the Indians probably never saw it. On one of the hills overlooking the creek, there was a rock outcropping. Going at it uphill, there was an opening, a narrow space between two big rocks. About twenty feet in another big rock covered over the top. There was a cave-like space maybe eight by ten feet where some of my friends and I played once in a while. We'd already sprinkled the ground there with enough semen to make it extra rich. I didn't tell Allison that part. In the cave Allison grabbed me by the sleeve and pulled me up close to her. She wiped both her hands on whatever clean area she could find on my sweatshirt. When her hands were partially clean, she reached down, unsnapped my jeans, pulled the zipper down and put her hand right on the fly area of my briefs. I forgot to breathe for a while. When she started feeling around finding my dick and then my balls, all I could say was a very romantic "Oh, shit, oh shit, oohh shiitt." When she put her fingers in and pulled out my dick, I almost screamed; having a hard dick dug out sideways was no fun. It felt just fine again when she got it in her hand. When she pulled my briefs down, my dick was dragged back through the fly and almost broken off by the elastic band. She pushed them and my jeans down to mid thigh. She reached up with her other hand and tilted my head up so that I was looking directly into her eyes. She leaned forward and gave me a quick smack on the lips and then leaned back again, staring me in the eyes. Her hand was working on my cock. It felt strange, not so much because it was her hand but because it was backwards. When I gripped it my thumb was pointing toward the head; when she gripped it, her thumb was pointing toward my pubic hair. Her hand worked as well backwards as mine did forwards. I came in a half-dozen good squirts all over the front of her jeans. She hardly gave me a chance to catch my breath. She pushed me back against the cave wall and down until my bare butt was on the cold floor. My jeans and shorts were holding my legs together like a tourniquet. She looked down and evidently decided that wasn't what she wanted. She pulled off my sneakers, first one and then the other, and grabbed the hem of both legs of my jeans. It seemed like she dumped me out of them. With nothing but socks on from the waist down, she seemed satisfied with me. She nudged my legs apart with her foot. She unbuttoned her jeans and pushed them down on her hips, leaving a few inches of white panties covering her stomach. When she turned around and then sat down between my legs, her back against my stomach, I wondered what she had in mind. She pushed back against me, grabbed my right hand, and rubbed it around on her sweatshirt, trying to get the mud off. She lowered my hand toward her crotch, pulled her panties away from her belly an inch or two and stuck my fingers, palm downward against her smooth belly, into her panties. "Do me!" "Do me!" Do me what? I wanted to do her. I just didn't know what I wanted to do to her. I didn't know what she wanted me to do to her. Luckily she did. She pushed my hand down further until I felt silky hair and further until her panties forced my fingers into a curve around her vulva. When she stopped, I could feel warm moisture along the length of my index finger. I began to realize what "Do me!" meant. She found my other hand and brought it up and under her sweatshirt. Tits! There were tits under there after all - small, firm, barely-palm-sized tits with pointy nipples. Hot poker burning a hole in my palm. I buried my face in her hair and the side of her neck. She started whispering. That's good. Yeah, right there. Rub it. Stick your finger in `til it's juicy. Rub it some more. Yeah. Oh, god, that's good. Do it, Kieran. My finger was wallowing in the tight little crease between her thighs, dipping down into her hot little cunt, spreading her little cunt lips, going round and round where she told me "Yeah, that's it." My cock was hard again and hurting, jammed at an awkward angle between my stomach and thigh and her back. She reached around with one arm and found it, straightened it up and began a behind-the-back upside-down stroking. I started saying, "Do me" too. We both were grunting it, like crazed singers. She reached the end before I did and started squirming around. I curled my finger around and pushed it into her as deeply as I could. Shit, she was hot, tight and hot. I pressed the base of the finger against her clit, not knowing in the least what I was doing, and she started shuddering and coming. She almost wrenched my cock off. I squirted again, all over her back while she tried to choke off the flow. I felt her fingernails raking up one leg. I didn't care. I had done her! And she had done me again! When she stood up, I saw my come running down her back and onto her panties. She had mud smeared all over her ass and her jeans. I didn't care. Her ass was the most beautiful one I'd ever seen. The only one too. I stood up too, wobbly-legged, my cock dirty with mud and dripping with the last oozing drops. Allison gave me a smile that said, "I know something" and squeezed my dick one more time. I gave her the same smile. She helped me get my shorts and jeans back on. I needed the help. I looked at her, dirty, covered with mud, wet, hair stringy, no makeup, lips unkissed except for one virginal smack. She was a picture of absolute beauty. She was a girl. And I had done her. On the way back, Allison was worried about being covered with mud - afraid that her Dad would get mad at her. I told her about the big shower we had in the basement. She asked where it was; she hadn't seen it. I told her it was in plain view, just the square on the floor surrounded by concrete blocks. The two showerheads were on the wall and the shower curtain was always back because we never pulled it around the shower. She asked who used it and I told her that Dad and Alan and I showered there after working on cars. I guess I was secretly hoping that we could somehow shower together. At the least I was hoping she could pull the shower curtain around so nobody could see her and she could shower by herself. I was already thinking of how it would be to get in the shower with my naked body knowing her naked body had been in the same place. When Dad saw us come in the door, he nudged Allison's dad and the two of them stood looking at us for a minute or so. They started laughing and Dad went over to the stairwell and called up to Mom in the kitchen. She came down and took one look and she wasn't laughing, not even smiling. She took one of the terrycloth robes and took Allison into the basement bedroom. When they came out, she was holding Allison's dirty clothes at arms length in one hand and her sneakers in another. Allison was wrapped down to her ankles in the robe. She gave all three of us men a scathing look and told us, "Allison is going upstairs to shower. Kieran, you can shower down here. Bring your dirty clothes up to the washing machine when you're clean. And you two dirty old men can just damn well make sure Kieran comes clean." She almost pushed Allison up the stairs. I wondered how clean I was supposed to come. The two dirty old men erupted in whoops and hollers as soon as the door to the kitchen was closed. I stood there not knowing what to expect. Finally Dad told me to get undressed and get in the shower. I started to pull the shower curtain around so they couldn't see me but Dad told me, in no uncertain voice, that I didn't need to try to hide anything. I started the shower running and stripped off. When I pulled my muddy jeans off both men were watching. I looked down and saw that my briefs were muddy too, especially in front. I got rid of the evidence as quickly as I could. When I started scrubbing, they started back working on the Avanti. Dad was glancing at me every few seconds. When I started to get a hard-on, he nudged the other dirty old man to look at me. I was standing there, sort of dreamy eyed, working up a good lather around my cock and balls. Maybe they thought my dick was trying to stand up because I was a little unsatisfied kid. What they didn't know was that it was standing up again, remembering what it had been like to be satisfied an hour earlier. I felt something stinging on one leg and looked down. Red stripes of fingernail scratches ran up my thigh. I turned my back to the two dirty old men and remembered that I had been sitting in the mud in the cave and probably had a muddy butt. I was in agony until I could get showered and wrapped in a robe. When I took my dirty clothes up to Mom at the washing machine, she was combing Allison's wet hair. Allison and I looked at each other standing there in white terry cloth robes. Mom mumbled something about the mud going through her washing machine and then put my clothes in with Allison's. When she started the washing machine, I realized my jockey shorts were going up and down and round and round in the hot soapy water with Allison's panties. I started getting hard again. Mom chased us in the family room and dared us to go anywhere else. We didn't go anywhere else. Allison checked to make sure no one else was looking and then opened her legs to let me look. All I could see was a matt of black hair over the little crease between her legs. Everything was closed up now. I wondered how it could look so different from the way it felt with my finger in it. I opened my legs to give Allison a look. My balls were still hanging low from the hot shower. My dick was hard and pointing up toward my face; I was proud of it and it was proud of me. I heard footsteps coming from the kitchen. Mom. We both covered up and sat up on the edge of our chairs. "Are you two being good?" she asked. "Don't let me catch you doing anything else!" We both gave her our best innocent child smile. Two yes ma'ams. As soon as her back was turned, Allison gave me another split second flash. I said to Mom's back, "Yes, Mom, we won't let you catch us doing anything wrong." About an hour or so later, Mom brought us our jeans and shirts and underwear - all clean and smelling fresh. She said we'd have to go barefooted because she wasn't going to run our muddy sneakers through her good washing machine. She gave Allison her clothes and chased her to one bedroom. She gave me mine and chased me to the half-bath off the kitchen. As we started to leave the family room, she gave both of us another dirty look. "You two had better clean up your act - before you get yourselves into a lot of trouble." I said a very polite Yes, Ma'am and so did Allison. Mom gave us a quick smile. As I left the room, I heard her giggling. Just as she was leaving with her Dad, late that afternoon, Allison gave me a quick hug, a kiss just on the side of my mouth, and that smile again, the one that says "I've got a secret." <><><> About the middle of the week after that Saturday, Dad said he was going for a walk after dinner one night. When he asked me if I wanted to go with him, I knew better than to say no. We were about a block from the house before he said anything. "Kieran, we need to talk about Allison. Do you want her to come back to visit you when her father comes?" I knew I was about to get it. "Yeah, Dad, I do. I like her; she's nice even if she is a tomboy." "I talked to her father. He's worried she might not be safe if she comes back to our house. Do you think he's got any reason to worry about her safety?" I knew he knew what I'd done. "No, Dad, we did some stuff I don't want to talk about. But she's safe. If she was a virgin when she came to our house, she still is." He looked at me, boring in on that point. "And I'm not going to do anything to change that, Dad, trust me." "Man to man?" he asked, and I knew he was asking for a gentlemen's agreement. "Yeah, Dad, man to man." We walked through an undeveloped area to a bluff overlooking the river valley. It was a favorite spot for all the walkers in the neighborhood to stop and talk on their walking rounds. "I've got a few questions, Kieran. Just between us men. You might want to help me out a little here. I've got to talk to your mother and her father. I'll be careful in what I say. But I need to understand what you and Allison are up to." He hadn't killed me yet. I decided I'd better just tell him the truth, man to man. "Your mother told me she thought there was semen down the front of Allison's jeans and on the back at the waistband. Yours?" I nodded when I saw he was smiling. "How the hell did you ever manage that shot, son?" I looked around as though checking to see if anybody was listening or watching. I held up one finger and shook my head to indicate no. He smiled wider. I held up two fingers. He nodded. I made a circle out of my thumb and fingers while Dad watched. I held my hand out in front of me, palm down as though I were encircling something on someone else's body. I moved my hand back and forth. "I see, that's one down the front. And the second, behind her?" I put my hand behind my back and moved it back and forth. "I don't see. But what the hell? It won't get her pregnant, will it son?" I shook my head in the negative again. "I need to hear you say it, son. Allison's Dad's not going to let her come back to see you unless he knows you're a responsible young man. If you take her for a walk again, I need to know you aren't going to let a red-headed snake bite her." I looked him in the eye. It wasn't really that hard. I loved him and I knew he loved me. "Allison's safe with me, Dad. She...uh...she likes to play around a little. Course I do too. But she's safe. I'll make sure she doesn't get bit..." I suddenly decided to be really man-to-man. "I'll make sure she doesn't get pregnant." "That's fine, Kieran. I'll tell her father you'll watch out for her and she'll be safe with you. And in this case safe means you won't need any condoms because you aren't going to try to use one. Is that right?" "Yeah, Dad. I don't need any. Maybe in a year or two I might need some." "I've got one more question, Kieran, and you don't have to answer this one unless you want to. Would you tell this old man what you were doing when Allison was going ..." He made a jacking movement with his hand. "...behind her back?" I told him. It took a while but I told him. I told him where my hand was while Allison was stroking me behind her back. I told him she almost broke my dick off behind her back when she came. He playfully punched me on the shoulder and stood beaming down at me. We stood for a moment in silence, looking out over the river valley. Finally Dad turned back toward me. "Kieran. Man to man. I trust you. Don't ever betray my trust, son." He held out his hand to me. I took it. Very man to man. His big strong hand enveloped my boy's hand. Man to man - but I lost it. I wrapped my arms against his waist and hugged up against him. I was still a head shorter than he was. My head ended up in his armpit. I smelled the man's sweat of him. "I won't, Dad, I never will." I mumbled into his armpit. "Guess it's time us men got back home," he said. <><><> The next time Allison and her father came, my Mom quickly made me aware that she was watching everything we did. I did manage to get and give a few quick squeezes. My hand took care of my hard-on that night, not Allison, but she was there in my mind. <><><> The next time Allison and her father came, my Mom kept an eye on us again during the morning. Allison and I helped her around the house until she got tired of us and told us to go play. We went out to the front porch and sat in the rocking chairs. "Allison, we've got to talk. They know what we did. That's why Mom won't let us out of her sight. She's afraid I'll do something to you." "Oh, shit, Kieran. Shit! Are you sure? My Mom's gonna kill me." "She doesn't know unless your Dad told her. I know your Dad knows. I don't think he's told your mother." "Kieran, I didn't really wanna do anything bad. You're cute and nice and I like you a lot. I didn't wanna do anything bad. I just wanted to play with you." "Dad made me have a long talk with him, Allison. I don't think he thinks we did anything wrong. He knows pretty much what we did. He didn't say we were bad, not once. He said he had to talk to your Dad." "Shit, Kieran, I was hoping I could keep on coming over here. Now they'll make me stay home. I liked playing in the mud with you. Even if we hadn't done the sex stuff, the rest was fun." "Allison, they're not gonna make you stay home. My Dad and your Dad just said I had to be responsible. They want to know you're safe with me. I promised him, man to man, I'd make sure I didn't do anything to get you pregnant." She sat looking at me, rocking harder and harder. I could see she was getting angry. "Well, fuck me, that really pisses me off. They really thought I was going to let you do it, I mean, fuck me? Shit, Kieran, I'm not that stupid." "Allison, you just said fuck and piss and shit - two fucks. If Mom hears you, she'll get mad again. She thinks we don't talk that way, at least, we shouldn't." She looked at me with a big grin. "Kieran, if you say the f word one more time, we'll be even." "Fuck." I waited for a few seconds. "'Fuck, Fuck, Fuck, Fuck. Piss, Piss, Piss, Shit, Shit." I tried to think of some more good ones. "Cock and cunt, cock in cunt." She started giggling. I followed. When we finally stopped, she took a deep breath, sort of out of resignation. "OK, Kieran, I'll help you preserve my virginity. We'll stop the sex stuff. But I would like to come see you. You're fun to be with." "Allison, you don't understand. Nobody's said we had to stop it. Nobody's said we did anything bad. Dad just said I had to be responsible. I gave him my word. I'll keep it. I have to. He loves me too much for me... I mean, I have to keep his trust." "You think if we'd've come back last time clean, and I wouldn't've had your stuff all over my jeans, they wouldn't've got mad." I translated that as quickly as I could. "Yeah, I think we've just gotta keep it clean. And be honest with'em." "I hope so. I was sorta wantin' to get at you again." "Me too." <><><> After lunch, Mom wanted to go shopping. She took me and Allison down in the basement. The old men had their heads under the hood of the Avanti. She asked them if they'd keep an eye on us. She was going to be gone all afternoon. They both answered without taking their heads out from under the hood. They way they said it, it sounded like they were going to chain us to the steering wheel of the car. Allison and I sat on the steps watching until I heard Mom leave in her car. "Dad, would it be OK if Allison and I got a blanket and went down the hill to the pines. We'll sit on the blanket so we don't get dirty. And you can see us out the door if you look for us." They both straightened up and looked at us. They looked at each other. Allison's dad nodded yes. My dad nodded yes. "Just don't go anywhere else son," Dad said. "We'll check on you once in a while. If we want you, we'll holler out the back door for you to come back. I got an old blanket out of the basement bedroom. We went out the basement door into the back yard. With Allison's hand in mine and the blanket under my arm, we walked down the hillside to the pines. There were five large pines growing close together. The ground underneath was covered with pine needles. Alan and Kara and I played there with other neighborhood kids. We'd cleaned everything out until there was nothing but pine straw on the ground and we could lie around and talk and play. Allison looked around at our play area. She looked down the hill at the creek. I could see the sun glistening on the muddy areas. "This is nice, Kieran. I just wish we could find a spot like this where they can't see us. Is this as far as they said we could go?" "Allison, they can't see us here. Dad knows he can't see us when we're here. Look back uphill at the house." We both turned and looked. We couldn't see the basement part at all. We could see the top half of the first floor and all of the second. Somebody looking out the first floor windows might see us. Somebody looking out from the second floor could. Nobody could see us from the basement windows. She understood. "Your Dad does know he can't see us. Does my Dad know it too?" She stood quietly, probably thinking as I was of the implications of this. "I think they're trusting us, Allison. I think they're saying we can go this far and no farther. Just like letting us come part way down the hill to the pines. No farther. I told Dad I'd keep you safe. They know where we're going. Just so far and no farther." Allison turned to me and pulled me against her. I dropped the blanket. She held me around my waist and put her head so close her hair was in my face. It tickled but I didn't mind. When she turned me loose, I unfolded the blanket. The towel I had stuck in fell out on the pine needles. Allison smiled at me when she saw it and we spread the blanket out on the pine straw in a sunny open spot. <><><> Allison kicked off her sneakers and lay down on her stomach on the blanket. I did the same and we were side by side, not touching, our faces a couple of feet apart. We looked at each other. I started getting hard. I looked into Allison's eyes. They were half closed, sort of sleepy looking. She didn't seem to blink. We lay there quietly. All I could hear was the occasional "screee" of a hawk as it circled overhead and the moan of the breeze as it passed through the pines. All I could see was Allison's face, her eyes boring into mine. She was beautiful. "I'm getting hot," she said. "Are you?" I was beginning to feel damp inside my sweatshirt. Was that the kind of hot she meant? "Yeah, me too. Can I take my sweatshirt off?" She didn't answer. Instead she got up on her knees and moved over me. She rolled me over on my back, grabbed the bottom of my sweatshirt, and pulled it over my head. She almost took my ears and nose off. I hoped I wouldn't have to be the one to say, "be gentle with me." My sweatshirt had probably not hit the ground when hers was off and flying after mine. She did have tits. Half a tennis ball, maybe half a baseball. Beautiful tits. Dark circles around little nipples. I felt like my heart was in my mouth. She moved over me and lowered herself down on me. Her nipple was in my mouth. I was in heaven. I sucked on one. Pulled on the nipple with my lips. Opened my lips and tried to get her whole breast in. Didn't quite fit but well worth the effort. She took that one away and gave me the other one. I wrapped my arms around her shoulders. I felt her hand fooling with the button on my jeans. I sucked in my stomach to give her more room. She popped the button one-handedly. The zipper was no problem. When she tried to pull my jeans down, I raised my ass up off the blanket, used two hands, and pushed my jeans and briefs half way down my thighs. She offered me a breast again and wrapped her hand around my cock. I was wrong before. I was in heaven now. I sucked. She stroked. I licked. She played with my balls. I sucked some more and her hand tried to choke my cock to death. She flopped down beside me suddenly, on her back, legs in the air, jeans unzipped and down and off her legs. Panties followed. In seconds she was back on her knees and on top of me, nipple in my mouth, hand on my cock. I moved one hand to her knee, traced upwards on her thigh, found her cunt. Cunt, Cunt, Cunt. God, now I knew what Cunt meant. Cunt! It was this hairy crack between her legs. Hair like fine cat hair, knew why they called it pussy. Little vertical crease. Where did it start? Where did it go? There. Wet, hot, hole in her. Finger slides in. She moans. I'm dying. My eyes are closed and all I can see is red. One breast feels small in my hand, the other big enough to cut off the air supply through my nose. I try to breath around it. My finger is sliding in and out of her and my hand is still. She's moving up and down on it. All I've got to do is hold my finger still and she fucks it. Fucks it. God, I want to fuck it. Please let me fuck it. She starts moaning and then going uh, uh, uh, uh. She tries to shove her cunt down around my finger. I help her. I feel her cunt squeezing around my finger. Uh, squeeze. Uh, squeeze. Uh, squeeze. I start moaning too, just like her. She tries to pull my cock off my body. All she gets is a load of come. I shoot all over her hand and all over my stomach. She rises up on her knees, looking down at me flat on my back. She's breathing like she's been running. I am too. We look at each other's eyes. Hers are smoldering. I know what that means now, not just from having read it. She looks down at my stomach. I raise my head and look down too. She uses one finger and starts tracing circles around in the semen on my stomach. My cock is still hard, still up just a little above my stomach, sort of throbbing in mid air. I can see some more white stuff oozing out the slit. She catches it on one finger, rubs it between two fingers, looks at it, wipes it off on my chest. She gives me that "I know a secret" smile. I know it too. I smile back. She wiped me off with the towel and then carefully wiped her fingers and looked around for any stray shots. She spread her legs and carefully wiped her cunt with the towel. We did it again before we went back up the hill. She was flat on her back this time. I was over her. She was milking me. I squirted down for her. I was finger-fucking her, wishing to God I could dick fuck her. I knew I couldn't. I could be trusted, couldn't I? Please God, let me be trustworthy. She wouldn't let me stop finger-fucking her until she came again. I didn't want to stop even then. I wiped my come off the blanket and wiped up between her legs. She spread wider to let me see how open and wet and pink she was. I touched it with the towel. I wanted to stick my face in it first and then put my dick in it and leave it there. I could be trusted. I knew I'd proved it. I thought about proving it again the next time she came over. We got dressed in a reverse strip tease. Panties on, briefs on, jeans on, sweatshirts on, sneakers on. She licked her fingers and tried to comb my hair back in place. I picked the pine straw out of hers. We went back up the hill the way we had gone down, hand in hand, blanket under one arm. When we went in the basement, the old men still had their heads under the hood of the car. Allison's dad looked up and said, "Oh, back so soon, hope you had a good time." Dad looked at me and smiled. I nodded at him and smiled back. I put the blanket back in the closet. I put the towel under my bed so I could smell it that night when I jacked off. And for the next six nights until Allison came again. I knew I could be trusted. Dad would be proud of me. He knew what I was doing. He was still proud of me. <><><> "How far did you and Allison go?" Sioned asked. "Just down the hill to the pines," I said. "You know what I mean." "Yes, I know. And my answer's a good one. She came to the house with her father a few more times. We never went any further, or farther. Which is right? We never got into oral sex. I wanted to but I guess I was ashamed to ask her. I didn't know how to ask her to suck me. I was afraid to ask her to let me go down on her." "Both and whatever happened to Allison?" my wife asked. "I don't know. I saw her around school during the next year and we'd have lunch and talk. When we started high school, she went to one in a different zone. I've never seen her since." "But you remember her, don't you?" "I remember lots from that time. I remember how cold and damp it was in that cave and how hot Allison was. I remember what she smelled like, her cunt, in the sun on the pine straw. I remember the scratches she put on my leg when she came. I even remember the hawk overhead going `scree'. But the one thing I remember most clearly is not about Allison." "What is it, then?" "I remember the smell of Dad's armpit and the feel of his hand behind my head when I told him I'd never betray his trust." "You haven't, Kieran, you haven't." "I hope not." "I hope I'm about to be pregnant again, Kieran." "Me, too." I pulled the pillow out from under her hips. She turned over on her side. I spooned up against her from behind. She held my hand against her breast while we went to sleep. TO BE CONTINUED: ----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------ Notice: This post has been modified from its original format. 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