When I was eighteen, and still working at the builders, yard Christine H entered my life again - for a short time at least.
The delicious Christine H had been my neighbour since we were not much more than toddlers, and we had been friends since our first day at school. She was a neat and pretty little girl and she had taken a liking to me immediately she saw me in her classroom. She flirted with me relentlessly and kissed my cheek when the school bell rang for lunch. For the next few years we were fairly inseparable.
It was a very innocent sort of friendship, and it was perhaps inevitable that, as we approached puberty we began to drift apart. Aside from a brief fumble outside a school disco when we were fourteen, Christine H and I more or less drifted apart. By the time we graduated from secondary school we were nothing more than polite acquaintances. We still smiled and nodded when we passed each other in the street but there was very little more to it than that. I was vaguely aware that Christine H had lately blossomed to the extent that she could turn heads, but there was little chemistry between as adults, so barely registered her most days. I had the impression that she felt the same about me.
Then one day as I was making my way home my old childhood companion, called my name. It was a hot and sultry day and I was very tired. Wearily I waved in her direction and, possibly, managed a smile.
She called my name again – this time more forcefully. I turned and saw that she had been bathing in the sun. Her skin was lightly browned and her limbs glistened with sun oil. She smiled then and signalled for me to join her. Not entirely willingly I did so. My mouth was dry and my work shirt was clung to me with sweat, and all I really wanted was something to drink and a good long shower.
‘Long time,’ she said as I sat down beside her.
She, non-too-subtly, tilted back her head and thrust her breast a little in my direction. For a moment I thought she was going to splay her thighs for me so that I could play my eyes over her plump groin – as she had done on that first day of school all those years before. But before I could complete that thought that was exactly what she did. Her big brown eyes drifted amongst the clouds as she further arranged her limbs for me. Though she pretended not to, I caught her glancing to check if this arrangement was having the desired effect. It was.. and it wasn’t.
Having only recently had what I hoped would be the worst sexual experience of my life I was in no great hurry to repeat the same mistakes. My encounter with J. had proved a disaster because I had ignored my instincts and allowed her to take control of the situation. My instincts now told me that Christine H was putting on an act and that she had only her own ends in mind. I was not prepared to allow myself to be seduced so easily.
‘What do you want Christine?’ I asked coldly I hoped.
‘You smell of sweat,’ she breathed in what she probably imagined was a rather sexy manner.
‘I’ve been working all day…’
‘I don’t mind,’ she breathed again. ‘I rather like it…’
I almost got up then and walked away. She sensed this and her manner changed almost immediately. Her posture altered and her face became rather serious. After a brief attempt to proffer her breasts again she gave up completely and allowed herself to slump back onto the lawn. For a moment she held her breath and then she sighed and, a moment later she was giggling.
‘Fuck it,’ she said.
When she looked at me again it was all business in her eyes.
‘Just say what it is Christine,’ is said firmly.
So she told me. She had met a pretty young man at college and she liked him and wanted to please him if she could.
‘He wants to fuck me in the mouth,’ she said. ‘He doesn’t call it that.. but that’s what men mean isn’t it?’
I told her that in my experience that was generally what was meant.
‘He’s an arsehole really. But so pretty and I do want to… keep him, fuck knows why… but I do. Only I’ve never had one in my mouth and what if I don’t like it? And what if he cums in my mouth and I feel sick… or I actually.. vomit…?’
Being an understanding sort – at times at least – I said that appreciated her concerns, though I wasn’t sure why she was telling me. It was one of those convenient lies. I knew exactly at that moment why she was telling me. But I had no reason to make it easier for her.
‘I’ve offered to.. you know.. pull him off. I could do that. But he says it’s my mouth.. or it’s nothing. So…’ she looked at me then, unsure exactly what to say next.
‘So you want to suck my cock… just to see if you like it first,’ I said, flatly, releasing her from her obligations to explain it for herself.
‘Well,’ she said. ‘You’re not.. pretty.. so it wouldn’t be like cheating would it and… you know it’s not like we haven’t… you know….’
I said that I did know and that I might be willing to allow her to have my cock in her mouth and even taste my cum but only on my terms.
‘No questions,’ I told her. ‘My terms.. or.. nothing.’
When it looked as though she was hesitating I got to my feet and began to walk away.
‘Ok,’ she said, a little note of desperation in her voice.
‘My terms,’ I inquired, to be sure.
She sighed and nodded. I offered my work-roughened hand to her and pulled her to her feet.
‘Are your parents home?’
Christine H did not look so confident then.
She said that her parents were out and wouldn’t be back until later and then she allowed me to lead into the house.
‘I need a shower,’ I told her.
In the bathroom I undressed while Christine H fetched towels and prepared the water. When that was done she offered to take off her bathing costume but I told that could wait. I stepped into the bath and under the shower and I told to get in too and to get onto her knees and wash my cock. We had, of course, seen each other’s naked bodies before but this was not the same thing at all. I had noticed that Christine H had studiously avoided looking at me too closely. Once she was on her knees, however, she had little option but to look at my erect cock.
‘It’s changed so much,’ she whispered, and I almost laughed out loud.
‘Take it in your hand and feel the heat of it,’ I told her. ‘Feel the pulse of it in your hand.’
She did as she was instructed. Then she soaped the shaft of it and I directed her head so that she could examine every aspect of my engorged penis.
I told her to pull back the skin of it and rinse the fat tip with the stinging warm force of the waters. When she attempted to put her tongue to me I took her hair in my fist and held her back.
‘You think you’ve earned a taste yet?’
She conceded, quickly enough, that she probably had not.
When I was clean I brought her to her feet, told her to remove her bathing suit, and, when she was naked, pressed her back against the cold tiles and told her to splay her legs. With one hand I tilted her hips upwards so that I could see her cunt, and with the other hand I unhooked the shower head so that I could play the strong spray of it along the swelling shaft of her clit. Her big eyes rolled back in her head, and she thrust herself into the spray.
‘Spread yourself,’ I told her, and she did, revealing the very tip of her clit which visibly rose and fell as the first little wave of spasms seized her.
‘Shit,’ she said, and:
She came so violently that first time (and I knew then that it was the first time) that she almost slipped and fell. To steady I put my hand between her shuddering legs and she came again. Still shaking put a towel around her shoulders and led her into her bedroom. In some ways it was still the bedroom I remembered from our childhood. It was still unbearably pink and scattered with overly cute bunnies and bears. The walls though were those of a typical teenager. The pink (of course) candy striped wall paper was all but obscured by poster of the sort of pretty boys girls have always been so keen on.
In her teenage dreams no doubt it would have been one of these boys who would been in that room and unlocking all of her secret places - and not at all the broad, heavily muscled, and rather coarse featured young man that I had become.
When she was on the bed I brought my cock to her face again and showed her how wet the tip of it was. She reached for it with her tongue as if trying to catch it if it dripped, but, again, I held her back.
‘When you’ve earned it,’ I promised. ‘And not before…’
I told her instead to open her legs and raise her hips so that I could see how wet she was. And she was wet. Her inner lips glistened and a big almost welt of creamy juice began to run from the base of her cunt and down her perineum (I’d learned all of the proper words by then) until it flowed down between her buttocks and was consumed.
‘Dip your fingers into that wetness,’ I told her, standing over her and looking down. ‘And when they are wet enough, massage your breasts with it and make them shine… make them slippery with all your scents and flavours…’
And she did as she was told paying particular attention to her dark and almost painfully erect nipples. And that done I brought my pursed lips to almost meet those pretty buds and I blew a chill across them so that Christine shivered along the length of her whole body. First one nipple, and then the other before, I plunged it into my hot mouth. At that point she attempted to direct my head further onto her breast but I would not allow that. I was not prepared to lose control of her at that point.
Instead I told her to turn over and repeat the same action on her bottom. To lavish her flesh with all her creamy juices – which she did and with no little enthusiasm. Then I told her to spread her self again and to ‘oil’ herself between her cheeks too.
‘And don’t spare the little knot of your arse,’ I scolded.
I stood above her as the little knot untied and, almost without her really understanding what was happening, I watched as softened and the tip of her finger slipped that little way inside. I hooked my own fingers then and slipped them inside her, (just the two) so that I could press on the soft upper parts of her undulation inner wall. She was very tight then – not because she was tense, it was nothing more than the perfectly natural tautness of youth. As I manipulated my finger tips on the upper part of her chamber I saw her own finger slip deeper inside her arse. As I pressed I could feel the pressure of her own finger in the other passage pressing down to meet the weight of my fingers and then she came again. This time she came in waves and I did not allow them to wane, probing her to find where the wave was falling and forcing it to rise again… and … again.
‘Shit,’ she said, and:
When, at last, she was all but spent I let her taste the tip of my cock. I withdrew after a while and asked her if she liked the taste of it? She said that she did. I then let her take in my shaft and I could feel her tongue rise and then flatten (almost expertly) as she drew me almost to the back of her throat. And then, not un-gently, I fucked her mouth for a while. Her eyes were almost glazed as she looked up at me then.
As I gauged that I might cum soon I withdrew again. A little look of almost panic passed across her face.
‘Aren’t you going to…?’
‘No,’ I said. ‘Not this time.’
‘But I think I’d … like it,’ she protested. ‘I really think I would….’
‘My terms… Yes.’
‘Yes,’ she said, too exhausted to argue.
I could have fucked her then, as she lay there, but, though young, I was not so foolish as that. Apart from anything else I was not ready to be a father, and, besides, fucking has a habit of forming bonds. And I had no desire to bond myself to Christine H.
Instead I laid my shaft between her still quivering arse cheeks, and wanked myself to a reasonably powerful orgasm. I was certainly powerful enough to lay a trail of cum along the entire length of her spine. Christine was not so spent that she had not been able to push back on me and so assist and she made a very satisfied sound as my cum struck up along her back.
Recognising that she might fall asleep and be discovered by her parents – cum stained and reeking of sex, I led her back to the bathroom and set her back under the shower. This woke her enough so that she was able to ask why I had not cum in her mouth.
I answered, simply, that I had not been ready to do so.
‘Perhaps.. next time.’ I told her calmly.
She did not appear overly upset to hear that there was to be a next time.
I had good reason for not allowing Christine H to taste my cum. I was aware that once she had Christine H would quickly realise that she had not further use for me, and she would return, no doubt to her pretty young men.
I, on the other hand, had many more uses for Christine H – as she would discover before too much longer.
9 people like this
9:58 pm Monday, 25th November, 2013
I enjoyed the first version perhaps a little more than the PG one. Having read that i actually cannot remember the first time i sucked a cock... must have been a memorable experience....I remember ones since but not that one...I shall have to make it up for myself ....
10:16 pm Monday, 25th November, 2013
surely not a problem not to remember first time you sucked a cock.....
10:18 pm Monday, 25th November, 2013
oh.. and i continue to type into that other box thing.... should i set a time limit?????